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People love spectacle.

It was like a drug, always searching for the latest innovation, the newest novelty; they would line up for hours, sometimes days, just to receive the most recent phone and would attend sporting events in the hundreds of thousands simply to experience something ever so slightly different than the previous year.

It should come as no real surprise then that the approaching advent of a lunar eclipse had turned New York City, the tourist capital of the world, into something more akin to a festival than a place of commerce. Food trucks lined the streets surrounded by scattered booths of different shape and size selling everything under the sun, from beer to burgers, chips to corn dogs, even miniature telescopes were on sale to those with more money than sense, which given the crowd was depressingly most of them.

Amongst it all the residents of the city swarmed like ants, an old cliche true, but as he gazed down from his perch atop a nearby building Simon couldn’t quite deny how apt the description was. Each speck down below was an individual human being yes, but as a wise man once said, ‘the intelligence of the creature known as the crowd is the square root of the number of people in it.’

Though to be fair, the elemental couldn’t claim to be so different from those below, he too was whiling away the evening waiting for the clouds to clear (or his patience to run out, whichever came first). Yet after having spent the past month out of town he’d forgotten how tedious such throngs of people could be and it hadn’t helped that something amidst the crowd was causing the air to twist and surge in ways which were simply not natural and left him with the faint stirrings of a new headache. Thus he’d quickly retired to his current retreat to enjoy the night sky in silence.

At least, that had been the plan.Reality however was a far more fickle mistress then even luck herself. For just as the moon filled itself with the anticipated blood red hue it was as if a trigger had been pulled and the quiet revelry of the night air shattered like glass as reality abruptly gave way with an explosion of sound, as a gash tore through the air itself and seemed to breathe in with the force of a localized hurricane.

Under other circumstances it would have been fascinating to watch, as it was though the suddenness had taken him by surprise and Simon spent the first several seconds simply trying to stand his ground as he fought the winds clawing at him even as others were tossed around like dolls. By the time anything approaching normality had begun to return to the park sirens were already starting to echo down the streets and the hessian found himself braced against an air duct as he stared at the newly formed rift and tried to grasp what his senses were telling him.

So intent on the anomaly before him the elemental almost missed the faint ringtone from his phone. Drawing the slim device from his pocket he glanced at the caller and arched an eyebrow before answering. “Isabel, to what do I-” A frown crossed his lips as the brunette interrupted him and began babbling through bursts of static about missing doors and ‘wrong’ strangers in a shaking tone that was bordering on panic. That more than anything gave him pause.

In all the years he’d known Isabel he could count on one hand the number of times she’d been visibly scared. She could be emotional yes, but she was far more likely to turn to anger or, recently, embarrassment than fear. And while he had an idea of which building the missing ‘doors’ referenced he needed to be sure before he tore off to collect her which was easier said than done due to said babbling.”Isabel you’re not-, Isabel-, Isabel calm down. Just breathe and start from the beginning.”

Eventually, after what could have only been minutes but felt like an hour Simon managed to coax the entire story from the girl, and even if she didn’t know how she’d gotten to where she was, it took no great leap of logic considering the rift in the centre of the park that the police were even now working to cordon off with impromptu barricades made from nearby booths, yellow tape and a generous guard of METAbots.

Interesting fact about Metabots, they’d largely been modeled off of humans and while they were packed with all manner of advanced senses they were primarily designed to focus on what was in front, beside and behind them, but not above. It was a subtle quirk rather than a glaring flaw, since the machines could look up just as easily as humans, but it was one Simon had no qualms about exploiting as he dropped down from the above the rift like a falcon and ghosted through the rift with little more than a whisper.

He was living in interesting times.

Standing without a proper Isabel shaped anchor to hold onto was lot harder than it should have been. His head kept wanting to sway back and forth to keep pace with the floor except floors weren’t meant to -memories of redheads casting tremors throughout liberty island flashed in his thoughts.

..alright, floors didn’t normally act like that, but that wasn’t important because he’d found a door frame and was simply resting against it because it convenient and not because down felt like several directions at once.

Putting such ponderances aside the hessians thoughts returned to the present and his azure gaze returned to Isabel who still hadn’t spoken, and the ghost of a grin crossed his lips. There was something oddly satisfying about the arrant lull that came in the wake of the kiss. Leaving the often obstinate soubrette speechless was no mean feat after all, but the dumbfounded expression that lingered on the girl's features as her amber eyes flickered was something else altogether.

He thought he rather liked it.

As if sensing his amusement the brunette bunny’s face quickly gained a crimson hue which nearly matched her top as she snapped her hand back to her side and finally found her voice somewhere between a shout and a squeak which was somehow even more amusing. “Stop doing that!”

“Stop doing what?” He asked feigning a look and tone of confused innocence which was hampered only partially by the slight upward curl of his lips, but which wasn’t helped when she petulantly tossed aside her rabbit ears in response or when she tried, and failed, to remove the cotton tail from her callipygian figure.

Thought it did do wonders in testing the limits of her top.

"Your wordsing is not helping any things-

Simon paused at that, tilting his head in apparent confusion as he tried to process the statement, because in all honestly things had only gotten interesting when they’d both stopped talking so if she didn’t want them talking then was she-

-and I hate you,

Ah, she was sulking, that made more sense, though really the soubrette had no business pouting at her age, he was dealing with enough distractions as it was. His eyes slid to the bathtub briefly before returning to the brunette. “You have have an odd way of showing it.”

"I'm bein' real tired of all you dumb face and words,"

And that was apparently Isabel speak for not wanting to talk any more as stalked forwards and somehow managed to squeeze past him in the doorway and stumbled into the dark bedroom hunting through piles of clothes for something or another.

Taking a moment to watch her go Simon shook his head and stifled a yawn before deciding to check the state of his own clothes. They were still soaked which was no real surprise and his shirt was missing most of its buttons but aside from that they actually looked to be salvageable, though he wasn’t sure where his belt had vanished- ah, there it was looped around the shower head. How had.. no, he’d deal with that later, preferably when the floor wasn’t proving so disagreeable.

Taking a few moment to collect the rest of his attire the elemental absently folded them over the bar of the shower curtain, a feat that was harder than it should have been when one hand was needed to keep balance and weariness tugged at your other limbs, but it wasn’t until he finished that he belatedly realized that Isabel had been talking.

“...I'm staying right here for sleeping now."

Hmm, sleep was actually sounding rather exquisite about now. How long had he been up now? A quick glance out the door showed Duskmoors silhouette sitting on the edge of the bed but no clock. He did note however that the bed was large enough for two even if the soubrette looked to have taken most of the blankets. “Is that how you always do sleeping?” It honestly didn’t look very comfortable with the hunched shoulders and crossed legs.

Barely even hesitating as he ignored the voice in the back of his mind warning what a terrible idea it was Simon flicked off the light in the bathroom and stumbled made his way over to the bed before laying down and resting a hand on the girl's shoulder to gently tug her back as well.

“This is way is better.” He informed her solemnly.

Clothes and showers did not, as a rule, tend to complement each other. Nor did a shower generally provide adequate room for two people. When one (or two) attempts to reconcile both of these problems and adds a fair share of inebriation to the mix well, the results were… utterly expected if he were being completely honest.

Which raised a whole set of issues he truly didn’t want to deal with right now. They’d done more than teach other french after all, they’d taken a few stabs at multiplication as well. The consequences of which, well, he’d deal with them later, when he was sober. For now he’d just enjoy the still miraculously hot water and… try not to get an elbow to the face as Isabel pulled herself upright?

“Careful Issie.” He called out, catching a flailing limb with one hand and guiding it to the edge of the tub while his other hand steadied her from behind. “Are you… s’re you w- to m’ve?” His words came out somewhat garbled given the shower and not at all because he was feeling tired or lightheaded. Regardless Duskmoor seemed to understand him well enough.

"Told you it was danger bad. So very much bad danger," She rebuked, though her words lacked any heat as she seemed more occupied with awkwardly flinging her soaked shorts across the room.

That was… certainly one way to put and while part of him might have felt more inclined to agree with her were he more awake, at the present Simon simply shrugged his shoulders, a smirk on his lips, slowly leveraging himself up as well; turning off the shower as the water finally began to get cold. “Satisfying though, where did you learn French?”

Isabels reply was a towel to the face.

"You are a bad influence,"

Mhmm, the worst” He agreed absently, resisting the urge to yawn while pondering what to do about his attire as he mirrored her in drying off, which was harder than it sounded given the limited space. He could still ‘see’ to some degree though even if his limbs felt like lead at the moment.

What condition had that bed been in?

"The worst influence. I'm need better friends."

“Tsk tsk, careful Issie, you’ll hurt my sister's feelings.” The hessian drawled, rolling his eyes as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “Or she would if she ever heard it, which she won’t, agreed?” The last thing he needed was Maya learning they’d shared a second night, or was it morning now?

When he didn’t get an immediate response he realized that the soubrette was busy fumbling with whatever garments she’d brought with her before, having left one item on the floor and fighting a losing battle with her top, or was it a vest?

Letting out a short sigh and a muttered “Let me do it.” Simon picked up the forgotten antenna? No it was a headband, and stepped in front of his not so adroit partner, deftly fixing the one button he could make out and slipping the headband over her hair and resting his hand there.

“Now, not a word of this to-”

Light flickered and burst into life leaving him blind and dazed, using Isabel as an impromptu anchor as his eyes struggled to adjust to the illumination after so long in the dark.

Adjust they did though, leaving him with a view of Isabels own ambers eyes and equally surprised face as they stared at each other nose to nose.

Resting his elbows on the armrests and interlocking his fingers Simon echoed the grey girls thoughtful hum as she demurred his question. He’d intended to come across as impressed; to persuade the gamine to further elucidate on her abilities but given her response and brief glance towards the exit, the conversation was having rather the opposite effect. A tad unexpected given how garrulous she’d been thus far but not unreasonable; perhaps she’d learned the benefit of keeping her skills in reserve or, more likely, she was just naturally modest.

Whatever the case, he acknowledged her reply with a dip of his head and let the matter drop; no need to make redhead feel as though she was on trial after all.

When the subject turned to her areas of study the hessian again found himself a non-answer. This one though didn’t seem as deliberate, rather Gina herself didn’t seem quite certain how fashion and social work would function together. From the sounds of it she’d simply not thought quite that far ahead and was already receiving what could politely be referred to as ‘parental concern’ over her choices.

Letting a slight smirk settle on his lips the elemental refrained from chuckling as Gina trailed off and instead merely shook his head in bemusement. “It is the duty of good parents to be concerned for their children's future, even when they’re fully grown. At worst they become insufferably irritating for a time, alternatively they help you avoid problems that could last years.”

Case in point student debt; the absurd enrollment levels in colleges across the country meant that a degree was no longer a mark of distinction and wouldn't command the attention of employers as it would have in the past. Graduates were increasingly finding themselves with diplomas that could cost tens, if not hundreds of thousands of dollars, but were unable to find work at anything except minimum wage, leaving them far worse off than if they’d gone into the workforce directly after high school or chosen a trade school.

Still he doubted Gina wanted to hear any of that, she likely heard more than enough of it from her mother, so again he allowed the topic to drop… until the conversation turned to his own ‘occupation’.

"So what sort of issues, hypothetically, would you handle as a business consultant? Dealing with competing companies and government regulations sounds pretty serious, and I'd love to hear what that entails."

Lifting a single eyebrow at the unexpected query Simon glanced to the ceiling as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. He rarely got questions on the nature of his beyond the initial description, he phrased it to be vague and dull for a reason after all. Still, he was more than capable of blagging his way through the conversation, despite what he thought of his own father than man had run his own business for most of his life.

“It really depends on the client.” He offered, giving a simple shrug. “A smaller enterprise is likely more concerned with local competition and how to gain the upper hand, whether that’s sourcing better equipment,” like bigger guns, “or designing a strategy to command more market share.” Such as using bigger guns to eliminate the competition. “I’ve been everything from the middle man helping buyers and sellers connect to a key advisor helping an owner decide on how to carry out their strategy, even carrying them out myself.”

“With larger clients you can still have the same concerns as smaller ones but they’re more likely to be subject to government regulations and have the funds to do something about it. Given the way government works the most common solution is lobbying; there are few investments that pay better dividends than a politician.” At this point the hessian shrugged once again, as if to say ‘what can you do?’ he honestly didn’t particularly care about in the inherent corruption in politics but it rarely sat well with others.

“In those cases it’s more about what you know than who you know.” Until you got to blackmail, in which case it was about who knew what you knew. “So my efforts are largely focused on helping clients get a foot in the door.” Which could be surprisingly difficult at times given the sheer number of skeletons most politicians kept on the other side of said doors, but he wasn’t about to go into that.

Shifting his gaze back to Gina he decided to shift things back to more safer waters, his ever present smirk returning as he continued. “Now, if I had an engagement with you well… I’d have to get to know you a little better, though that’s hardly a hardship.

“From what you’ve shared though I’d say you’re greatest strength lies in your natural marketing. You design mutant clothing and are clearly a mutant yourself; that gives you a certain amount of clout right off the bat. If you decide to pursue a degree in social work you’d be ideally positioned to get government contracts given their focus on diversity quotas.”

“With that in mind, If you haven’t already I’d recommend researching and reaching out to local charities that cater to mutants and inquiring how they address the needs of those with, how would they put it, ‘Non standard figures’? Start by offering your services at discount, or free if you can afford to, maybe try and garner the interest of a local paper and have them write a human interest piece on what you’re doing to get your name out further, maybe attract offers from private individuals. Then, ideally, once you graduate you’ll have a network you can leverage for a steady income.”

Finishing his impromptu lecture Simon took a moment to simply let the the girl process everything he’d said, leaning his head against the back of his seat and watching the redhead from the corner of his eye, waiting until she’d gathered her thoughts before concluding.

“That’s essentially a sample of some of what I do, normally I’d charge anywhere from $500 to $5,000 for someone in your position, however since your a neighbour, how does dinner sound?”

Because sometimes you couldn’t put a price on pleasant company.

---

(OOC:Again, apologies for the wall of dialog. Just wanted to get this out rather than spend the next week tweaking it. That said if you would like anything changed do let me know. I can also have Zephyr offer to buy dinner if that makes a response easier for you and because he’s smug enough to offer. )

Sitting was a woefully under appreciated activity, it let you rest, collect your thoughts and didn’t make the floor sway disconcertingly from side to side. Granted, Simon still wasn’t sure how that was happening given he could feel the ground staying perfectly quiescent but that was a matter for another time when he had less pressing matters to deal with.

For example, figuring out how to get the cider back before Isabel drained the remainder of the bottle. He’d offered it to her yes, but he hadn’t quite expected her to drain it like a marooned sailor. Letting out a silent sigh he watched through his spatial awareness as the soubrettes silhouette tilted the glass up for a second swig as she seemed to debate his offer.

Maybe he could just ask for it back? Stranger things had happened after all.

"Yeah okay, help me with the shower,"

Any further thought on the matter was unceremoniously cut as Isabel off clutched his hand and hauled both of them upright. The two of them stumbling for a moment before leaning on each other as they waited for the sudden sense of vertigo to fade. Thankfully the feeling passed quickly but it was still far from pleasant and took him a few moments to gather his bearings as he oriented himself.

“C'mon, lessgo." Duskmoor however had no such hesitation, immediately trying to set off across the room only for Simon to quietly dig in his heels as he leaned back against the wall, bringing the girls charge to an abrupt halt.

“S’ not nice t’ drag me ‘round Issie’ He chided with a teasing tone, the soubrettes balance wavering before he caught her with his free arm and left them both against the wall. “Sides, s’ hard to help if ‘m pulled around, now..” Quietly relieving the brunette of the cider Simon placed her free hand on the wall for balance before guiding her along. “hold ‘on an follow me”

Shoulder braced against the wall the hessian led the way around room almost casually, almost passing for sober if one ignored the fact it took him multiple attempts to boot the occasional pile of clothes aside. That wasn’t important though.

What was important was that they’d finally found a shower, or at least, something with a shower shaped silhouette. It could have been a watering can poking through the drywall for all he knew; spatial awareness was not the same as actual sight, but as Isabel stumbled into the back of him part of the elemental reflected that the difference was probably for the best.

He’d be far more distracted if it wasn’t.

Still it was time for the moment of truth, pushing aside the shower curtain the hessian began testing the handles set into the tiled wall, ears pricking as he heard the slight rumble of the pipes but without any result. Frowning he twisted the handles further, eliciting a further strained groan from the pipes before they finally gave up the ghost and water burst forth.

In hindsight he really should have closed the shower curtain first.

Falling was not new sensation, he’d already done it two- no wait, this made it three, times tonight. Wasn’t the third time meant to be the charm? He should get a hand hold or something to stop his fall by default. Even as the thought occurred he felt the door frame slip from his grasp before his other hand frantically grabbed for the handle, halting them for a single moment before the door continued to swing open, adding a spin to their movement as they fell out of the closet, his arms wrapping reflexively around Isabel as she clung to him like a limpet.

Huh, maybe the third time was-

He hit the floor. The impact sending a shock through his right shoulder even as momentum sent him rolling. For a handful of moments up and down were the same as he tumbled over the floor, leaving him dazed and winded so when he finally did stop the hessian had no desire to move.

Quite the contrary actually; standing would only have him fall down again. Much simpler to just save himself the trouble and stay where he was, at least until he caught his breath. The fact that he had a buxom brunette laying on top of him and couldn’t move if he wanted too, only served to reinforce his decision.

As he gradually began to get his wits back though and took stock of the still pitch black room Simon once again became aware of the dull throbbing in his skull, now accompanied by humming ache in his shoulder that didn’t seem to harmonize so much as quarrel with each other.

He needed another drink.

Annoyingly, he was also having trouble getting his breath back because, while there were many words one could use to describe Sanctuary’s poster girl, ‘light’ was not one of them. Curves carried weight, in more ways than one, and the shapely soubrette had her fair share and then some.

On the upside he could make out the… ‘handmade’(?) basket Isabel had carelessly left by the wayside and it still held several unopened bottles. Unfortunately the hand closest to the basket was trapped between the brunettes arm and side and the girl wasn’t showing any indication of moving in the immediate future. In fact she was still treating him like an oversized teddy bear which was strange because she’d said that was dangerous, then she kept doing it.

It was confusing, but that was fine because he had an idea.

He had two hands after all and only one was trapped. The other had slipped under her tank top to rest in the middle her back. Shifting his wrist slightly he began trailing the fingers of his free hand down her spine until he reached-

"Danger bad, very, very bad dangerous,"

-and there she went, those were almost the exact same words too though she seemed to be having trouble with them. Maybe she was stuck in a loop? He’d ask her when he got his breath back, and had a drink, or two.

On that note...

Sitting against the foot of the bed Simon enjoyed another sip of the bottle he’d liberated welcoming the warm haze it brought to cushion his mind against the dull ache in his head. He didn’t recall spotting cider in the cellar earlier but then again he still wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up down here with Isabel and it was a rabbit hole he’d rather not venture down in any case.

Speaking of the soubrette, he’d been watching her stumble awkwardly around the room for the last few minutes?, moments,... For last little while, and she really didn’t seem to be making much progress. To be fair she was technically blind and the clothes she’d scattered around the room didn’t help matters, causing her to trip and then hop like a newborn bunny as she tried not to fall.

She wasn’t doing very well.

After one particularly hilarious unfortunate effort which left the brunette slumped against the wall and left him laughing coughing, Simon decided to take pity on her and rose unsteadily to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall as he steadily made his way over, taking care to make plenty of noise as he did. A jumpy Issie did not enjoy being surprised after all.

"Cider?” He offered, resting the bottle lightly on her shoulder after having crouched down against the wall beside her. All that jumping and flailing looked like thirsty work. If she hadn’t needed a shower before she probably did now.

Huh, she had mentioned something about that hadn’t she? Something about dust and spilt drinks. His shirt was still damp as well come to think of it.

"Showers the other way." He added helpfully, resting his hands on knees as he debated whether it was worth trying to stand up again. He didn’t have a good track record with it right now. "I can help you get there if you want a hand.” Probably. Maybe. If he didn’t fall over.