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Her cheek stung, though Cesca could honestly say she really didn't expect any less, if their first(and last) meeting had been anything to go by. They "painted the town red," but...it was quite literal, and it was with paint, not even any blood. Ah well; that's just how things go sometimes, she figured.

"Yeah, you could say I'm doing alright," she replied, adding a little signature to her art: a stylized 'M' for Miasma. Before she could converse anymore, Zek did...something that she didn't see because she was busy touching up her snake. But the next thing she knew, ice shards were raining down, forcing her to perform a (rather impressive) forward roll behind the same dumpster.

She sighed, leaning against the dumpster, closing her eyes. "Gotta admit, bud. This is not how I planned spending tonight, but..." Opening her eyes, she suddenly found herself wearing a rather sinister grin, and a gleam flickered in her yellow eyes. First, she pulled a few pieces of gum out of her purse, then peeked into the dumpster, grabbing an old beer bottle as she chewed, looking very much like a punk chipmunk. Holding the bottle in one hand, and the monstrous wad of now chewed gum in the other, she put the bottle to her nose(no way she was putting this thing in her mouth), and pinched the other nostril closed with her thumb. Then, she expelled a cloud of yellow-green gas from her nose into the bottle, and quickly sealed it with the wad of gum.

"I've never done this before but...let's see how it works," she mused, tossing the bottle across the alley to where she hoped their icy nemesis was taking cover. The bottle shattered against the wall, freeing the puff of gas, which....immediately dissipated upon release.

"Well...f***."

"I love a good bumpy ride, on occasion," she said with a slight smirk as she put on the helmet and sat behind her newfound friend and wrapped her arms around him, hanging on. It'd been awhile since she'd ridden a motorcycle. Maybe when her money issues sorted out she should get one.

It really was a nice ride, her heart racing with excitement for probably the first time since she'd made it to New York. Buildings zipped by, lights blurred, the wind ruffled her leather jacket, and under the helmet, she was grinning, anticipating the evening to come.

Once they got to their destination, she climbed off and removed the helmet, shaking her hair free from its prison and cracking her neck. "Lead the way, Mr. Perky," she said with a smirk. "I warn you, I'm an artist but spray paint is not my usual medium," she said quietly

Her smile faded; in fact if it wasn't for the alcohol, she might have snapped. But something about it just...dulled the situation. Even if it was her fault for not knowing how to properly mutter under her breath while drunk. Inebriated as she was, however, she still wasn't going to divulge too much to quickly. Or at all, really. While she wished they could have just kept talking about wings(and some chicken wings sounded damn good right now), this was the hand she'd dealt herself.

Taking a moment of silence, she shook her head. "That won't be necessary, nor possible, sadly," she said slowly, thoughtfully. "Let's just say, some things went sour back home. Restaurant went out of business, family separated, that sort of thing. I moved here to start over. Make my own way, my own name." She sighed, drawing her legs into herself a little. She was almost...vulnerable. "It's...fairly recent. It just kinda...well, I guess you could say it just sucks. I'm here just starting over, and maybe...well, maybe I'm not as in control as I try to be," she shook the thoughts out of her head before stretching and standing to her feet. She straightened her hair, fixed her tie, and then plopped right back onto the couch.

Taking a breath, she regained her confidence. "Sorry about that. Just one of those things I guess."

Cesca listened intently, mentally taking notes as she prepared for the upcoming mission. "I don't know what kind of effect my power will have on them, but when push comes to shove I guess we'll find out." Her left hand idly toyed with the switchblade as she thought about her next words, and decided that for the sake of the job, it was best she left all her cards on the table for her two teammates to see.

"I have a background in things like this; I'm from a now defunct crime family in Chicago. My specialty is interrogation, due to my mutation, but I've also been known to pull off a successful infiltration, and when need be I can handle myself in a fight. As for my power, I can produce a toxic gas that can have a number of nasty effects on a person," she explained. She had to admit, saving children was far more noble than the type of job she was used to, but she was definitely in it for the long haul. Besides, there were some lines even Cesca Galloway wouldn't cross, and harming children was one of them.

"Sounds like a plan then." she said with a smile, her yellow eyes glancing from Aura to Pause as she walked, slightly behind Aura, and just a little to the right.

Cesca gave a hearty laugh. "What can I say?" she said with a wink. "I know my role and I play it well~" She was all smiles by now, relaxed considerably, and a lot more…bubbly than she had been when she first entered.

Cesca also found herself singing along, actually harmonizing quite well between Jonas and Carrick, and when it was over, she too gave a generous applause.

"Certainly is. Anytime, though I admit I didn't do much except provide backup." She leaned back a bit, brushing her hair aside in thought. "You know, a seat by the fire pit sounds nice. I'm in.[/color]" She nodded after a moment, silently reminding herself that she should probably be done drinking for the night.

Cesca picked up her drink and took a gulp before standing to her feet and walking with Warlock. She briefly had a decision to make; appearance was everything, so how should she position herself? To the side but slightly in front, like a bodyguard? Slightly behind, like a subordinate? No, no. She walked right beside him, matching him stride for stride, like a partner. An equal.

When the conversation started, she stood back, off to the side, listening, yet ready to chime in when and where needed. She nodded when acknowledged. “Cesca,” she introduced herself, with very little emotion or inflection to her voice; she may as well have told the man it was raining outside.

The conversation was…interesting. Was Jonas that infectious? He could be, of course, but something in the young woman’s mind wondered if there was something more to him. Whatever the case, she had to admit she was impressed. She noticed she was tense, after the interaction. She too, felt the strong urge to punch the guy in the throat, or at least give him a whiff of her gift, but she managed to restrain herself. Pivoting on her heel, she turned and walked back to the bar.

Once she was out of earshot of the manager. “Good Gods that guy is a prick…” she muttered, downing the rest of her drink.

“I mean, if you can swing it, custom made is the way to go, wing size or not,” she commented smoothly, sort of motioning to her boots and the jacket that was slung over her shoulder. Speaking of, she made a note to find a good source of custom clothes and boots in the city. She didn’t intend on ruining the shoes or jacket she had, but it was always nice to have someone on hand in case of emergency–sometimes, the emergency being Cesca’s whimsy.

>>>>”She looks old enough ta be here.”

Unfortunately, Cesca had taken a very healthy swig of her drink as Carrick said this, and the resulting snort laugh caused her to sputter and spew it all over the counter in front of her. Her face was almost as red as her blouse, and as she choked and laughed, it almost did away with the powerful, confident air she had put on very well up until now. Almost. As she regained her composure, she fixed her hair, straightened her tie, and then promptly leaned forward, grabbing the bartender’s rag from behind the bar and wiped the mess up herself. “Sorry about that, hun,” she told the bartender. “I got it.”

She nodded, smiling at Carrick when he stood to go back to performing. “Sure thing,” Cesca replied with a smile, eyes flashing slightly. “If we’re gone when you get done, take care, and your two drinks will be paid for already~” the young woman flashed a wink at Jonas. When Carrick referred to them as a couple, Cesca seemed largely unphased. Honestly, in this moment she felt much more like a girl in a high school cafeteria than a former mobster in a probably-mob-run establishment. Heh…she’d actually forgotten the reason she’d come out tonight, anyway, and that was to case the joint. Oh well, there were much more important things to…case…this evening.

“If he’s not, he’s a damn good actor and for that alone he deserves to be able to drink. And I’ve seen my fair share of actors, she stated. “Well, I normally cut off after three, but I seem to have spewed most of my second onto the counter so…yeah I’ll take you up on that drink, for sure,” she murmured with a seemingly shy smile. Cesca was clever; she knew when to let someone else take the lead. As she sipped at her drink, she weighed Jonas’s next question. “You know, I think we should. I’ll let you do all the talking, Prettyboy. I’ll be there in case things turn sour or you need a little…feminine touch,” the woman reassured with a smirk as she took a gulp of her new drink. Setting the glass down, she put her jacket back on, then slowly and methodically sipped on the rest of it. When the time was right, she’d slide off of her stool, following Jonas to the manager.

This was the kind of thing she enjoyed. It reminded her of her days back in Chicago with the family. Though she could never return home, maybe she could have a better life here. One with just as much action and adventure without the messiness of getting tangled up in family shit. Only this time, she wouldn’t let her guard down, no matter how pretty or handsome they were.