The young man had a point, but moderation had never really been Isabel's thing. Her self control probably wasn't at its best, especially when she decided she wanted something. And should she decide she wanted to have a drink, she rarely stopped at one, and that had more often than not lead her into trouble. Particularly where a certain musically inclined mutant was involved. She'd indulge in alcohol only when she was safely locked in her room and settled in for the night, thank you very much.

And while she hadn't had wine before, the comment about not knowing what it was doing until it was too late only cemented her decision against it. With vodka she could easily tell when she was beginning to slip into drunkenness and could potentially stop at any point she felt was going too far. She certainly didn't trust a drink that could sneak up on her.

As the manager-waiter asked if they were ready to order, Isabel made up her mind and requested the pita, pointing out the one in the menu that seemed to match the description Aedus had given her a minute ago. She closed the menu again and placed it at the edge of the table for the host to take once her companion had placed his own order and the employee went on his way.

"Well, I'm gonna go ahead and guess you're new around the city," she stated after the older man had scurried away with their orders and menus in hand. At first she had though he might have been around a while if he already knew the good places to eat, but even newcomers could find somewhere they preferred to grab lunch, so that thought went out the window quickly enough.

“I will have the Greek salad.” He didn’t want to copy both of her choices, so he went with the other mouth wateringly delicious thing in the restaurant. He was happy to see the manager move on, not that it was cramping his style.

He looked to Isabel with an amused look on his face, “I’m curious why would you think that? I was born at New York Presbyterian and haven’t left the city since, I don’t know about you, but it’s weird not being surrounded by buildings. People say you can see the stars, that it’s so much more peaceful, I’m skeptical though.”

He thought briefly about the fact that if there were buildings every where it was hard to find a forest, and wondered how much his phobia contributed to the fact he didn’t really want to leave the city…how weird was he that the countryside didn’t appeal to him in the least.

So he wasn't new to the city. That was surprising. Then again, Isabel did know of a few people that seemed to be living under rocks, so it was quite possible that he really did live in New York and was just a completely clueless individual. With videos games and other gadgets advancing more every year, people were often more engrossed in something like Irritated Avians than with what was going on in the real world. Then, there were also the people that couldn't afford something like a TV, though she didn't quite get that vibe from him, especially if he was grabbing girls off the street to get lunch with.

While she was contemplating such options, the host brought out their drinks and scurried away again without a single word. Unwrapping her straw, she allowed herself to briefly study the young man that sat across from her. He wasn't a bad looking guy, she'd give him that, but he was a bit clueless.

"I just assumed you weren't from around here since you don't seem to know who I am," she explained, slipping the straw into the glass before proceeding to fold the wrapper into a small square."I'm not exactly the most popular person in the city, in case the way the people in here were acting has escaped your notice."

“Hmmm, well I can’t say I watch much tv. I don’t really read magazines or newspapers often, I read books pretty often.in general I seize the day. I know I have seen you somewhere and I now I realize where.” And it wasn’t the realization she was trying to lead him to. His hand went nervously to the back of his head and pet the fuzziness of his haircut almost as if he were shy. Of course the fact that he picked her out of a crowd and was dancing around the subject had nothing to do with it. He listened as she said she was unpopular and he was perplexed by that, he hadn’t ever heard of a swimsuit model becoming unpopular due to her profession. But then the proof was all around him.

“No, it hasn’t escaped my notice, but after you said you could take care of yourself I am trying not to make an issue out of it.” He stated that in a way that said he very much wanted to put them in their place. “ I don’t see why a bathing suit calendar would make you unpopular though, I mean the pictures are flattering and not any more revealing than Maxiumus magazine. I get it if you don’t want random guys coming up to you drooling, I’m sure it gets old. But you seem interesting, and I for one would like to get to know you.”

Isabel sipped at her drink as she listened curiously to the young man offering up an explanation. Didn't watch much TV or read many papers. She'd assumed as much, and had apparently been correct. She was a little confused and somewhat concerned by the suddenly shy manner he adopted, though. She wasn't so sure she'd like what he had to say if he was reluctant to say it.

She nearly spit out the sip she'd just taken when the phrase 'bathingsuit' popped up. Oh good God. He'd said she looked familiar, but it hadn't even occurred to her that it could have been because of those damn posters. Or calendars, apparently. That was one of the newest additions that had a certain redheaded reporter to thank for their existence. She wasn't sure which one was worse.

"Those are not what I was talking about!" she hissed, her temper immediately spiking. The nerve of this kid! She wondered whether or not something would click if she scratched one of his eyes out. "Looks like I'm gonna have to spell it out for you after all," she continued, having no worry over the volume of her voice or how it might further affect the chilly reception they'd received upon entering the restaurant. "I'm Isabel. People don't like me. People are afraid of me. I'm one of New York's Most Wanted criminals. I'm on the news all the time because I kill people."

"Those are not what I was talking about!"

His eyes popped open in surprise at her tone, it was like she had come to life, her bored and unamused demeanor evaporated, like the soda the sprayed out in a sticky mist.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to spell it out for you after all,"

His eyes settled but his left eyebrow arched in curiosity over her tone and what he heard next was appalling.

"I'm Isabel. People don't like me. People are afraid of me. I'm one of New York's Most Wanted criminals. I'm on the news all the time because I kill people."

Fight or flight, fight or flight, fight or flight….Fight. if it came to that. His eyebrows came crashing down in what his father would call the look half annoyance half anger. He was throwing that calendar away. When he was a teen His father left him to his angst if it was on his face.

God, anger made him stupid. “Really? Are you proud of that? People don’t like you. Does that feel good? People are afraid of you. And you like it? is that why you were annoyed with me I wasn’t running the other direction?” His hands gripped the edge of the table so that his knuckles were turning white. “You’re a wanted criminal and a killer and proud of it?” The last was said in a mixture of disbelief and foolish outrage.

His eyes bore into her, it was something that he wanted to hear from the wicked, he always wanted the bad guys to feel remorse. “Really?”

Why wasn’t he a mutant yet? Why hadn’t he brought that handgun, why hadn’t Jude warned him about today..a bead of sweat was growing on his forehead and his hands grew slick with anticipation of how this might escalate. Was this what the world was trying to make Chase into?

Isabel had not expected the young man to react so violently to her statement. She had been more expecting him to shrink down in his seat or excuse himself and make a quick getaway. He actually had a little bit of spunk and wasn't afraid to throw his new opinion of her in her face. He earned a smirk for that. Spunky, but terribly dense if he thought she was a good person to be preaching to.

Leaning forward to place her elbows on the table, she then intertwined her fingers and rested her chin on top of them, grinning in a satisfied sort of manner across the table at the young man. She had seen enough bravado to occasionally be able to tell when people were bluffing. She could see him beginning to sweat a bit, and that white knuckled grip he had on the table was on its way to slipping. Not brave, just brash.

"As a matter of fact I am," she stated without the slightest hint of remorse or discomfort in the face of his accusations. She had never really felt bad about taking someone else's life. For the most part she just killed humans, anyway. It's not like she was murdering her own people or anything.

"I would much prefer to be hated and feared than to not matter. I have my reasons for doing what I do, and I have people that aren't bothered by it that I can call my friends. I don't need some guy off the street to give me his approval. I'm not going to feel guilty just because someone I don't even know doesn't like what I do. You gonna do something about it, Mr. Goodie Two Shoes? Hmm? You want to risk playing games with someone like me?"

She leaned forward like a cat with a mouse and he knew immediately that there was nothing salvageable here. A good man was only worth his actions. Or so his grandfather had told him.

A frustrated huff puffed from Aedus’s nostrils as he listened patiently to her rant. Aedus stood up deliberately slow, opened his wallet and tossed forty dollars on the table. “I don’t hate you, I don’t fear you, I pity you and your friends that accept it. If you think killing people makes you matter, you’re wrong and you are sick. Unfortunately, I’m not going to do a damn thing about it though. At least not today.” He looked into the cool chocolate eyes once more and shook his head. They used to be so sexy, her pouty lips, delicious. Now all he saw was something he desperately wanted to smash. He turned on his heal and began to walk away.

He had to find away to get Faust pharmaceuticals to give him what he needed. Isabel needed a firm hand, he was pretty sure an obsidian one would do the trick. Sorry, Grandpa I am only words today, but he would be damned if he didn’t figure out how to take action. He stopped and turned toward her once more. “ Hey Isabel, where can I find you? For when I do want to play.”

Well that certainly was anticlimactic. All that huffing and puffing he was doing and all it lead up to was him standing up and heading for the door. She'd give him a point for daring to turn his back on her, but that's all she'd give him. She was rather disappointed that he'd turned out to be all talk She would much rather he'd have tried to back his words up.

Her pride certainly hadn't missed his little comments. She didn't like being called things like sick, or being pitied, and she certainly didn't like to hear that she didn't matter. The news would certainly beg to differ. She damn well mattered, she was sure of it. One man saying otherwise didn't mean anything. Her actions spoke louder than his words.

She pocketed the money he'd left on the table, because really why would she leave it for the rats at this restaurant to take after their actions? They hadn't even eaten anything, so they really didn't deserve it. Once the bills were securely in her pocket, she got to her own feet, crossing her arms and leaning her weight to one side as the young man turned around ad spoke to her again. All the while she was seriously debating whether or not a nice gash across his face would improve his looks. She'd done worse to people for less, after all. Perhaps if she got him to hesitate another moment she'd be able to make up her mind.

"And why should I tell you where to find me?" she asked, sauntering her way toward the entrance as well and stopping only a few feet from where he stood, grinning all the while. "You wanna play so badly, you can put in the work to find me. It's no fun at all if I just hand you all the information you need. Now, you do seem a bit slow on the uptake, but I think you can piece something together eventually. I don't think I'll hold my breath, though."

An almost feral look crawled upon his face as she started using the curves that he had moments ago enjoyed, she sashayed her way closer to him. "ah, you seemed confident like something as lowly as me couldn't bother something as important as you. I guess you weren't as fearless as you seemed. So be it, I'll work for it and find you all the same." He held and opened the door for the...woman. "if you did, it would save me the trouble." a parting quip as he followed her out the door and began to walk away.

In the back of his mind his sanity was screaming at him. Shut the hell up and quit mocking a murderer, a news worthy murderer. Why was he taking it so personal...He would find her and he would teach her the error of her ways. HE felt like a burning need.. She was the wrong in this world, she was what made those pathetic bastards attack Chase, she was going to pay. just as soon as he could find a way to make her.

Not fearless. Pft, yeah right. He was correct in assuming that she didn't think he could hurt her, sarcastic as that assumption might have been. He misconstrued her desire to see just how far this kid would go to right her wrongs in some way as fear. Isabel would always tell everyone that she wasn't afraid of anything, and most of the time she believed it herself. She just wanted to see if he really was just all talk. Once his temper cooled down maybe he'd realize he had been playing with fire and just how close he'd come to getting burned.

She brushed past him and out the door when it was opened for her, idly wondering if he was still playing the gentleman just so he could stick a knife in her back or something. She didn't give the thought any extensive attention, though. As far as she knew he was still all talk, no matter how angry he seemed to be.

She watched him turning to walk away and raised on hand from where it had rested against the opposite crossed arm and pointed a finger at him. With a smirk she mouthed the word Bang! and shot a small dart-sized piece of bone at his turned back. She wasn't aiming to do any major damage, just to sent him a little message. And a number to reach her by etched into the side of the small projectile. She was actually starting to like that little trick. Maybe she'd make it a habit when meeting promising new playmates. If he found the number, so be it. If not, oh well. She'd given him a hint it wasn't any concern of hers if he used it or not.

Whipping his body in a circle at the sharp pinpoint of pain Aedus’s Fist was raised and he nearly took a shot at a man that was behind him just because he was closest to him and he was expecting the heartless bow headed wench to be behind him and while he wasn’t willing to provoke her in the restaurant, he certainly wasn’t going to just let her stab him in the street. He pulled his punch even after the male he almost mistook for his target started cursing at him.

He reached back toward his left shoulder blade and plucked the bone dart from his shoulder. Still glaring in the woman’s direction, he wouldn’t have noticed the number if it wasn’t for the fact that a small smear of blood trailed across the area code to what he presumed was her number. She would regret it, was this a reply to his comment about being fearless? He turned again to walk away wondering if her mutation stopped at bone dart projectiles, or if he would be dying of some poison, or even a disease that her bones may have carried over. He couldn’t and wouldn’t do something about it just now, but if she was so careless with others lives, perhaps he would make her fear for her own.

When he got home he would have to see if the area around the jab was infected, it didn’t feel like it went in too deep, and the phone number indicated she thought he’d be around to give her a call. Briefly he wondered if he would have gotten the number any other way. He sighed as he walked away, oddly glad that the pickup attempt hadn’t gone well, what if she fell for him and then he had a serial killer girlfriend. That couldn’t end well. It still probably wouldn’t for one of them.