An Offer and an Invitation
Porch of the Inn, early afternoon, 5/22

The porch swing had been taken over by Shae's recline. A folded blanket behind her back served as a makeshift pillow against the slats of wood that she reclined sideways upon. One leg hung down to the porch where the tip of a simple black flat applied occasional pressure to keep her in motion. The other leg was drawn up, bent at the jean covered knee to provide a post against which a notebook was propped. Fingertips just visible from the ends of her sweater sleeves gripped a shortened quill which offered the sound of occasional scratching as she added to some writing there. No favors were given to her tired eyes by the messy bun that left a few strands of black to frame her face. Under the steeple of her bent leg, a furry body inhabited territory. Fox sprawled in a curl around her calf, dozing in a spot of bench that saw sunlight during the occasional break in the cloud cover. Last of mention, but not least, was the can of sugary drink that her free hand continued to deliver to her lips. Poor source of energy, but one that sufficed.

The day was too nice to be caged by the cold walls of a barren room. He had exited early morning just before the sun stretched above the horizon to spread himself thin in every direction where errands were concerned. It ended with him dappled in small trails of sweat draining from his temples, staining a little of the oval neck to a fitted t-shirt, and a grapple of his hand against the bulk of his right thigh with a casual stretch of worn jeans. Ezra was regretting a routine that often cost him a little of his man skin, the tailoring of it that often felt too tight around his sinew. The limp is so minuscule that it could barely be noticed. At the steps he catches her scent before executing an actual glance at the way she folds her limbs like origami, a whimsical bit of dusk on a dying light day. "That stuff will kill you." It's a jest and is complimented with the often brazen grin she could coax from the painted mountain. One step at a time; he finally let go of his thigh and made it a top the porch.

Those small inconsistencies in her form had disappeared since their last encounter. Her breeze was back to stir the air around her with the faint smell of metal and leather, though neither things were in evidence in her attire. One brow raised over a deliberate sip from the soda can before her eyes deviated from a scribbled note to smile in his direction. Just the eyes, her lips were playing shy with the gesture today. "You don't say." Another slow sip during which humor crawled into eyes the proper shade of honey gold. "Mm. Thank you. And here I thought I was fated for a more unfortunate demise! Death by sweet drink sounds far more gentle and gradual. I'm sure I'll have several good months, at least."

"At least. Maybe more." Cutting himself into the thick of the space she had acquired for herself but adjusting; a lion basking in the warm breeze that combed from her aura. He took a generous lean to the railing near the swing with a grunt from beneath the splintered wood from his weight. "What are you writing?" Against the grain, he went, ignoring the revving engine of small talk to tear through and present a question that birthed on his lips the moment he saw the pen and paper.

His motion into that space prompted her toe to drag and slow her sideways rocking to a sedate sway. All the better to appreciate the closer view. It was his direct question that spawned her smile at last. Airborne cancer had once been used to reference her curiosity, and now it seemed as if he was picking up her terminal habits. In answer, the notebook was turned for his view. On one page a hand drawn map of a district of the city, with a few buildings marked by symbols. Symbols that corresponded to a list on the opposite page and notations in a neat, runic script. "Just gathering some information on some spots in the city." Perhaps it was the hints of wear in her face, or perhaps it was the distraction of drinking in the visual details, but her words came in an unhurried fashion. "How goes the quest?"

Curiosity or comfort. He chalked it up to both given how simple it was for him to throw caution to the wind when interacting with her. Their banter existed as wicked and spritely, even with the more dominant timbre his throat was congested with. "Is the Bench on there? And with it, my own name?" Fishing through the vats of her eyes was as easy as shooting fish in a barrel; the ochre of his stare had come with the stripes of citrine and fools gold. Her question gave him hesitation in answering because he swept a nonchalant glance across the porch. It remained a ghost town save the two figures that let their shadows stretch on the floor boards. "It goes as it always does. Sometimes I find nothing but speculation, people looking for a quick dollar, and other times it profits."

"My but we do flatter ourselves today to assume the nature of my scribbling." Employing the royal we to playfully reference the man who exuded regal confidence in the midst of earthy charm. "Allow me to help you with that, the flattery that is: I don't need notes to remember our drinks there." The notebook was let to turn back towards her and slide back to position on her thigh. Writing didn't resume. "I have to wonder, though, if you were implying something else that I ought to be cross at you for." Lips pursing thoughtfully before a smile banished the threatening of a mock scowl. The friendly curve faded to a more serious regard. The half-quill tucked into the fold of a page and the notebook closed. No ink in sight. "I've decided, and you're free to reject the offer, but in the near future I should like to offer my help with that."

The laughter she coaxes is earthbound, rocky with shards of warmth nesting in the crevices. It is thick enough to wrestle at his lax posture and quake at broad shoulders. "I have to flatter myself sometimes when others don't, especially those that have been wronged by my flighty behavior when offering to buy drinks." He wasn't intimidating in watching the small movements she made but he was aware. Attention followed the roaming of her ethereal fingers, the quill itself between paper thin confines, and back to the proposal of her own subtle jubilance that could be witnessed on her smile. It lingered, mayhap a moment too long, before he replied and readjusted his sights on the banks of her eyes. "You would? And what kind of payment would you be looking for, if I was to accept your help?" There was a good chance that he was still baiting her. He could blame the sun and how it unleashed a little more of his mirth than usual.

The avalanche of released humor is a soothing one that wipes some of the fatigue from the landscape of her features in its passage. "Please. Surely you hear a good measure of flattery in your day to day." Look at the man. The ink drew the eye and the canvas was admirable. "And you've but to pick a place to make up for that first round of drinks. I'm hardly wronged with so gentle a repayment." Yet now he talked of payment of another sort. "I realize my flair for business negotiations might have intimidated you before, but really I'm not so cutthroat." A hand to her chest as if to ward of the thought that she would insist on compensation, full of playful sarcasm as her grin reappeared. "I'm sure we could come to an arrangement that satisfied."

He was superb at deflecting when the situation called for it. He did now but with only a small degree of sincerity to the cut of his tone. "Day to day? I don't know about that." Feigning bemusement that lasted as long as her own charade of sincerity often did: Shortly. "You're not? I've been reading you wrong this entire time, then." More for them to grin about. His own stationed frequently as it was rare to capture him without it. Arms curled to cross a long his chest, folded with the weight of his lean still giving some faint creaking to the railing. "And I'll tell you what; if I ever need assistance in this quest of mine, you'll be the ... second person I call." Again, humor.

She let him have his deflection. Well almost. Her expression didn't cooperate with her silence. It quite clearly said: Uh huh. "I'm quite contrary, sir." Admitted without it sounding at all like an apology for that fact. One final sip from the can, draining the last measure of fizz. An arm stretched out to balance it on the sill of the nearby window as she spoke. "Oh, have you already a partner in research? Well. I wouldn't want to step on any toes." Gradually both hands found a home in her lap to pick at the ends of sleeves. "In truth, the only 'payment' I would seek would be your continued tolerance for my ceaseless questions."

"In a sense, yes. In another sense, no. They help to locate certain items and more often than not they are just dead ends." There were other things within the crossroads of his condition of questing but this was not the place to indulge her on that information. Regardless that they remained the only two shadows to be seen, he was not convinced the play was not riddled with unseen ears. "You talk about it like you are capable of a cease fire with the questions." There is no cruel delivery. It's meant to be lighthearted, unconstrained from the grinning his mouth continues to be saturated with. After a moment of thought and a brief glimpse over his shoulder, he settles on something else. "There is one thing I could use you for, if you're interested." He trailed there, letting her mind wander. He had no control if it was towards the gutters or the serious fleck of grain in his tone.

Drawing her other leg up onto the swing required a careful positioning relative to the sleeping canid. She managed it with the ball of her foot pressing against the far armrest. "I'm not even sure what help I could offer but..." The latter half of that statement, if it had even existed in the first place, trailed off to nothing. "I am capable. I just don't want to now that I'm here." The rise and fall of her shoulders accompanies this answer to his lighthearted teasing. She wasn't oblivious to the way he paid attention to his surroundings for this topic. While her eyes did not deviate from the study of him, she was no less aware. "I'm listening." Be it gutter or more noble pursuit, she didn't let the alleys her mind wandered bleed into those words. Simple curiosity was all she expressed.

She was an enigma for the amount of endless regard she showed, not just to him. He had been witness to how she was a leech for knowledge. It was inspiring in it's own way; he had been stifled of pursuing many interests based on what sailed in the pipelines of his lineage. "There is a museum that I've been meaning to go to. There's something there that I need to see for myself. I could use backup if anything goes wrong such as falling victim to monotone historians wishing to give me a tour. Think you would be up for the challenge?" Soliciting this was a less profound way of inquiring on a date that would have ties to his actual inspection of the museum itself.

The mention of a museum prompted sharp eyed interest. A coincidence he could surely know nothing of. Or did he? To cover the sudden fault in her heart's beating she sought clarification. "Which museum, might I ask? I am only aware of one in the city, but I would be keen to learn of others." The history of the amalgamation of worlds from which the denizens of this city originated was a subject of personal interest, that might go without saying. "I could do my part to defend you from such a life threatening risk, I'm sure. I'd throw myself on the sword of education to spare you." That bit of teasing eased the honed interest in her eyes to something warmer, but didn't dull the edge completely. "I'll need details, of course. Where. When. Attire so I might smuggle the needed defenses." There a grin.

Unaware, completely, of the coincidence. The truth is laid out on the canvas of his eyes, painted in the glassy mud of fresh river water with the every-now-and-again flecks of citrine. If he's aware of the very slight difference to her body language than there was no urge to show her. He remained as a lenient warden against the railing. "It's up near High Town, further out. About a two hour drive from here. High Town Museum of Cultural Arts, or as my intel said, a place for lost and found items that no one has claimed yet." Loosening up a chuckle from the grasp of his mouth which had gone thin lipped for a mere second. "I can't think of anyone else I'd ask for such a sacrifice. There's no need for dressing up for it, really. Whatever you're comfortable in." A show of his hand to gesture at what she was wearing now.

Relief, like the trickle of rain down her limbs, cleansed away that brief flirtation with a lingering stressor. Of course a city of this size would have other museums. Mentally, she chided herself for leaping at shadows where their interactions had always been a matter of sunlight. "Wait. Drive? As in cars? You drive? We'd be going by car?" Her interest in his description of the place was superseded by her fixation on the method of transport. "Oh good." In regards to the attire. The thought not voiced: I'll be able to die in a wreck of flames and metal, but I'll be dressed comfortably.

Another laugh, this one thriving on her initial reaction and how the question posed was so sublime in shock rather than her needling lust to drink him dry of answers. It absolutely rolled as pearling rumble after the genuine boldness it supplied before. "I do drive. It's a quality I obviously need to exploit more often. Of course we're going by car. I'm not sure how to fly a plane, nor am I completely financially secure to even have one, and I'm not often fond of the more otherworldly traveling such as the portals, unless of course you have some asinine fear of cars in which case, I could make an exception." Still grinning. She was quite good at keeping him doing just that.

"Asinine." Her echo of that word seemed to take it as a challenge, and the woman puffed slightly in her seat. "They're huge rolling things of metal and flammable liquids and they travel at such speeds that collision might well mangle you beyond redemption, but no. Me have an 'asinine fear of cars'? Perish the thought. I'm just...not used to them, is all." All that puffing to finish so lamely while the flicker of light in her eyes dared him to mock her.

And he was not one to back down from challenges, no matter how brilliantly appealing they were. "That sounds a little like fright." Though his ribbing of her lasted only as long as his most recent delivery of laughter, more a muted chuckle where it was more seen than heard. "I'll bring you details. Even a copy of my safe driving record over the years to help you with being overwhelmed with sitting in a car." She didn't need to know magic in how to get the painted mountain to seem less the stalwart fighter and more a mundane artifact in an otherwise strange world. "There are some things I need to do so I'll leave you to your notes." The first step is taken with a minor pause, his right hand grasping at the right meat of his thigh. He continues on with a lively shade of a smile aside to her when passing. It's his eyes that remain troublesome in how they pinpoint a direct line into her own, and that look spoke louder than his words at the moment could.

Between her shifting and the rumbles of his mirth, the fox beneath and between her legs lifted a head to blink groggily between the two of them. Shae distracted herself by reaching down to scratch the crown of his head. The motion was enough to convince him to settle back down into slit-eyed repose. The words she might have said were set aside to better mark his departure and his lingering attention. "Mm." A lazy flick of Fox's tail drew her attention back to him. "Oh be quiet." The woman turned to sit up, gathering Fox into her lap with her notebook. Blanket to be tucked under her other arm. With a bit of juggling, she stood and stepped away from the swing. Towards the steps and down. Off into the evening.

Shaking Up the Art Scene, part 1
9:00 AM, Outside The Bench, 5/27

Only a few minutes early to the destination of The Bench was given. He had to make up for the last time he had been present here where he strode in a few minutes late. A day like this was recorded in gunmetal and white with how the world seemed to be cushioned in overcast skies with a mild temperature of cooling breezes. Matching his scenery of how the early hour was already dressed in the term casual delivered him in a pair of slate gray jeans and a white t-shirt that seemed more appropriate as an undershirt but his posture suggested a James Dean technique that suited his attire sans cigarette. Wrinkled edges of a newspaper dog eared down, fingers pressing vague pressure to the sides, with a to-go cup letting out small puffs of steam from the plastic lid resting atop the hood of the Dodge Charger. Newer in model but the body aspiring to it's old classic.

By contrast, this time around Shae was a few minutes late. Joking about hell beasts aside, she was more alert than she should be at this hour of the morning. That by no means meant that cup of tea would be unwelcome, or unneeded. Her morning had started early at the docks, and carried over the faint scent of sea air when she arrived. With perhaps a touch of something metallic. Today she'd dressed herself, in defiance of the overcast skies, in a sleeved dress of pale color and layered light fabric. The topmost of which boasted the faint patterning of birds in flight. Sandal covered feet approached that figure who, for all the oddity of seeing him juxtaposed with a car, was unmistakable to her. "What's the good news?" She asked as she drew close enough for comfortable speech.

"From Marmaduke's perception it seems to be good. He got the bone." Spoken from behind the typography of the newspaper itself before it was edged down to look directly at her. "You don't look like a monster. Not sure if I'm inclined to be glad about that or a little let down." Caution was not his strong suit when orchestrating conversation with the airy marvel not even if the auspex of her eyes told him a little of a darker story she had been filling in the pages with on her own time. Newspaper became folded up recklessly when he leaned around to reach within the open passenger side window he had been mastering his lean against, dropping it but not coming out empty handed. A full masked football helmet emerged and was casually offered out to her. Never mistake the painted mountain for being without a sense of humor. "I brought you something to maybe ease your nerves a little if the tea doesn't work." Opposite hand rolled over and gave a sound knocking of knuckles against the outer shell of the helmet.

The confusion presented at his opener and the question poised on her lips melted away to be replaced by a grin that, while tired, was clearly feral. "I could show you why looks are deceiving, but I would rather have my tea, please and thank you." Hand extended with a grabby motion towards him once her steps came to a rest beside his car. Demanding seemed to be in her character at this hour, and she was not shy about it. However, what he was offering to her was not, in fact, tea. "Oh ha. Is this your way of telling me that I shouldn't trust your assurances of being a safe driver?" The helmet was lifted from his grasp, tried on even. The mask was jiggled with a hand, but proved solid. "I'm not sure this will stop me getting at you, look at all this airflow. No, perhaps best that you wear it." Summarily tugged off without a care to what the brief visitation had done to her hair. "Might buy you a few seconds." The helmet extended back, once more a grabby hand. "Tea."

This early hour proved to drag out the brat beneath her bones but instead of finding it childish he found it enchanting. Sneak peeks behind the thin mask that he was achieving at chipping away in their treasured moments of privacy. "Not at all. You should trust my driving skills but maybe I don't trust you trusting them?" Webs of riddles that weren't meant to be innuendos but bordered on them. He collected the helmet back but made no show of mounting it atop his head. Instead, he adjusted to lean the opposite way he had when reaching into the front lobe of the car to present to her that steaming to-go cup. It may have just been a touch out of reach for her greedy fingers to collect. "You're welcome." Curling his spine down to be fruitful in his endeavor to become eye to eye with her for that split second of comradery. "I also brought actual sustenance seeing as how I'm not sure just how cross you might get on an empty stomach of just tea and honey." Uprooting from his station at the rib cage of the car to open up the passenger door for her where a small plastic container and lid housed slices of fruit, a variety that consisted of cantaloupe, strawberries, honeydew, and Pink Lady apples.

The bratty behavior might have been a masking of her nerves regarding the upcoming drive, or just a facet of her early morning tolerances. Time would tell. "The helmet was a sweet thought, but it doesn't match my dress." As if that were the reason she wasn't wearing his jest of an offering rather than it being a jest. Single-minded in her pursuit, Shae took the step needed to fetch the cup from his teasing grasp, closer to his eye-level lean. "Thank you." The cup interposed between them for a deliberate sip, eyes smiling over the curve of plastic. His precaution of food transformed her face with naked appreciation. "That's very thoughtful of you, to exceed my steep demands. You trust me with food in your car, or am I to eat here?" Another taste of tea, the sugar coaxed down her throat. The heat of it hit her stomach and was slowly spreading into her limbs.

"It's a rental. I'll make sure if you dirty anything up that you'll be paying for it." It was spoken as he began to usher in around her, not to tower but to ease a lamb which he thought more of a wolf into the modern chamber of the car. A grin was proposed to offer any answers to her if she found herself questioning the sincerity of that statement. "Plus, I brought napkins." A lower set of tone as if conspiring with her, selling himself out by chuckling in the realm of her personal space so she could feel the warmth of not just the tea but for the man who stood so near to her.

"Oh, napkins." Picking up his tone of conspiracy and running rampant with it. "Well that will foil my plans of tossing fruit at you, for sure." Winking as she shifted with him, cooperating in his endeavor to load her into the rented death trap. Snake charming with the vibration of his laughter and the soothing warmth of tea and body heat. This close, her breeze would toy with the edges of him, providing further distraction. "Somehow I think you'd have difficulty passing the blame, but I'll take care just in case."

"I'm actually extremely good at passing blame." He said this just before she was sheltered in the seat, taking a step back to shut the door. It only took him a few moments to ease a gait around the front of the car before settling in himself to the drivers side. "Put your seatbelt on." Triggering a notion of it by mentioning and tilting his chin to give her wind of just where it would be. Key in the ignition and when he turned it, the car purred alive.

There was a minor space of juggling, re-positioning the container of fruit onto the dash. Finding the hollow of a cup holder to place her tea. Hands free, she could now navigate the complexities of strapping herself in. The latch on the belt might have been tested a few times to reassure herself that she could indeed get back out once she belted herself in. Satisfied, the container of fruit was drawn down into her lap. In the closed vehicle, she felt the twitch begin deep in her muscles. "Does the window go down?"

"It does." Answering her once he stopped watching her be overly delicate in tying herself in with the seatbelt. The manual shifting of the car came and he pulled away from the curb. He wasn't cautious in his driving but comfortable with it, as if he had been doing it since the first miracle of technology had put one together. The Bench was in a perfect area to hit up the open roads that would stretch for the majority of their journey. The music that was on a lower volume was Lovely Day by Bill Withers, and the man cast in shackles of ink with the build of a once upon a time savage mouthed the words a long.

Her tea proved a temporary distraction to the unease that was building in her, and she closed her eyes for the space of a long sip and controlled breathing. At last, when the vehicle finished acceleration to road speeds, she ventured to string a question together. "Can you tell me how?" Because the buttons on the door would mean nothing to her.

It wasn't announced like he was mocking her but the question itself reminded him that not all had been exposed to certain elements of other lands, lands that made a network here of all places. "See the button with the up arrow and the down arrow just near the arm rest?" And as he explained he also drew his right hand away from the bulb of the stick shift to what he was talking about that nested near the center of the console. Every now and again he would take his eyes from the road to give her a brief glance. "Need a little fresh air?" He rolled his own window down but didn't coddle her; she would have to press the button for her side to get the same outcome from his side. He had faith in her.

Once directed to the control responsible for such things she didn't need his example. The simple arrows were enough. Her own window cracked down at the same time that his did, and she held it all the way. Confined to the interior of the car, her breeze didn't allow the air rushing outside to whip in drastically, nor did it cause that ear punishing buffeting sound that might come with a change in pressure. "Yes..." She exhaled a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Relaxation seeping to replace the anxiety that had been building. "Thank you." Her right hand slipped out the window to feel the passage of air rush against her skin. It clearly comforted her. Enough that she was able to approach a more natural topic of conversation. "The car plays music?"

"Thankfully.", was his response with a gesture of a half grin aside to her. "Or else I may have to be subjected to your voice alone." Which was obviously nothing more than a ruse of a statement since he had nothing terrible to compare it to. The ease of their banter was what he found most inspiring in her presence while he also sought to let her focus on that rather than the endless road that they traveled on, or the small bumps that would give the barest shake to the quick pace which they went at. "Do you know who Bill Withers is?" A moot question but he asked anyways.

"Perish the thought." Tea back to the cup holder, she opened the container with fruit with enough care to show that her earlier threats of making a mess of his car interior had been playful at best. The smooth passage of his driving aided greatly in her endeavors, even if she did tense slightly at those small bumps. "I don't." Though she had been listening to the soothing repetition in the lyrics. "Is he a local musician?" This might seem a strange question. Ezra was currently ignorant of the deplorable state of her Earth music education, but that was bound to change sooner or later.

Another laugh, just as genuine as the first. She had that way of being able to coax them out of him. "No, he's not. He's from the 1970's. Still alive but I don't think he performs as much now." During his brief schooling of Mr. Withers to the soon to be fruit eating sylph next to him, he had reached to turn the volume up a few notches to let the serenade of Just the Two of Us. "He's a favorite for me and driving isn't the same without him." Watching over the great yonder of hills they began to navigate through rather than taking a moment to appreciate how she chose what piece to start dining on first. "So, if you don't mind me asking, the other night -- when I happened on you at Teas and Tomes. You talked about demonstrating yourself on the offense that started as a defense and mentioned Fox wasn't too keen on what had transpired. Are things better now?"

"So he's an Earth musician?" Attached to this question for clarification was a note of doubt. The reasoning hinted at in her next words. "The style is very different than I have been previously introduced to. And he's not singing exclusively about backsides, unless I'm missing some metaphor in the cultural disconnect." The more she listened the more she smiled. "I like this much better." Her stamp of approval was a softer vocalization, eyes closing briefly. A short lived escape. His question drew her back to the present in which she settled the matter of which fruit came first with a slice of apple. The skin resting on her lips briefly before she bit. The act of eating a space in which to gather her thoughts. "Yes, they are. The guard hasn't come banging down my door, Fox and I came to an agreement."

Her admission to receiving Bill Withers as a sound to enjoy was the forefront for the building of his smile but he didn't turn it to her. She could spy at him from the passengers side rather than drown in the ochre of his stare, and still that grin would remain. It barely dissolved even with the context of their more sincere topic. "The guard? You know this only calls to my curiosity more now, right?" But he didn't dig into the meat of the subject. While in close quarters there were still boundaries to obey. "I'm glad to hear that Fox and you have worked things out. Not sure if you would be as interesting without a vulpine familiar." That was a lie. Spoken with the familiar timbre he seemed to have no shortage of.

"I suspect I'd be in equal measures far more interesting and far less likable, if I'm being honest. After all, interesting isn't always a good thing." Sometimes it could be downright dangerous. Another small lapse to appreciate the music. "Would you like some fruit?" Nevermind that he had been the one to procure it in the first place. He was driving, and she was willing to assist if it kept him focused on that task. "And I know it does. We've got a while in this car. If you're really keen to know the details I could indulge you, provided you promise to listen with an open mind and not to repeat it."

"Interesting is always a good thing." Two sides to every coin. Danger or not, life was worth every second of its trials. He gave a small shake of his head at the offer. "I had breakfast earlier. You go a head and enjoy." There was no comment of just how long he had been awake but he had plenty of time to organize some errands and eat during those hours. Her willingness to tell him the story earned her draw of his right hand across his chest. "Cross my heart. I won't breathe a word of it. Consider this car our chamber of secrets; nothing gets in, nothing gets out."

Shaking Up the Art Scene, part 3

For a space she just breathed, leaning back in her seat and slightly to the side. Not a withdraw, but an angling from which she could more comfortably regard him. Blatant, open study. "Well. It's clearly something very important to you. Are you so certain that they wouldn't be willing to assist you? Are your interests in doing this in conflict with them? Granted, I don't know the full scope of what you do for them, but..." The arm that had spent most of the ride out the window drew in. Wind chilled fingers reaching over the space between them to lightly touch the upper arm of his that was closest to her, where that tattoo of the tree had been, or in the mirror location of it. "Something tells me you don't give enough credit to your value to them. Equally so, that if they did not take enough value in you to be willing to offer their help that they'd be rather foolish." His markings, at the least the one that he had showed to her, spoke much like the un-listened-to wind, in her mind.

No fear of the touch. She lacked the charge of the voltage she packed that night at Teas and Tomes, where they had casually jested over the candy he had. Warm beneath the cool gauze of her finger tips was his own flesh, the very life of the tattoo's almost radiated as did his presence in such small confines. He had no reason not to glance down at the way it felt, tiny pinpricks of wind worn skin to his ifrit heated coating. "Even if they would be willing, I wouldn't ask. This isn't for them, it's for me, and possibly selfish since I keep it from them but in that same sense I'm protecting them from being troubled. They have faith in me much like I do them, and I would give my life for them even without the Oath that was placed. They're good people and always have been since I've sworn to them. This challenge now? Is better left in the dark while they sort out their own affairs." Gods knew there were plenty affairs to deal with in the O'Connor clan and all those associated. "You mentioned before that you believe you are one of a kind, or the last? How do you feel knowing that? Does it ever cause you to feel -- lonely?" This question seemed to come out from left field but it was inquired of her to help him understand whatever was tumbling in his skull.

Had she still that charge in her skin, despite his playful reassurances that he could handle it, she wouldn't have made that simple contact. She was too cautious for such a thing. This. This had been a calculated gesture. One that she just as gently withdrew as the warmth was just beginning to put the heat back into her fingers. "I can respect that." Offered with acceptance for his reasoning. Still, the mention of his Oath and his assertion of the willingness to die on their behalf gave her pause. A deeply personal challenge, perhaps. Shae gave thought before she spoke again. "Where I came from, such seemed to be the case. I've been disabused of that notion, somewhat, since arriving here." Space measured between thoughts. The container of fruit was shifted to the floor that she might have the span of her lap in which to gather her hands. "The searching and the disappointments. Were I not already accustomed to solitude, yes, the loneliness might have been suffocating."

"It always is." Suffocating. The asphyxiation of a long life served with the regret of watching those perish where you only succeeded. He didn't voice any of that and casually instigated a different piece of them to dissect. "If you are, in fact, a sylph, that means you are not alone. There are those closer than you might think that have the same incantations at their fingertips. I'm sure they're different but it could serve as a highlight to knowing you aren't the only one." They continued at a decent speed through the path which wasn't littered with much else aside from the rolling scenery of grassy hills and an overcast sky that seemed to start slitting itself open. "Who else knows what you are aside from me? I only ask because some are more prone to their privacy while others are open to what they are, or were, or are becoming."

"I've met one recently. Though I've been arrested on how to approach the matter." Murmured quietly and dismissed again. It was a leap she'd have to take at another time. "A few others have had the courage to ask. Three, four at most. I don't tend to broadcast it. People assume. They see Fox and some examples of what I can do and draw different conclusions. It's something I'm comfortable with allowing. More than once it was that I put out my feelers by announcing myself more boldly only to find myself hunted for my trouble. The ones I've told...have been those I felt I could trust with the information when they asked it of me." Clearly, that included him. However, she was still stuck on his initial reply. Those three words of agreement. And the thing that remained unsaid between them. What he was. She ventured gently into that territory with questions that revealed her harbored suspicions. "Is that why you fight so hard to put them back together? Because you worry you will be the last?"

"I suppose you could go through his mail." It was in association to their first connection, what had intrigued her enough to be so keen on infiltrating the painted mountain (as she was the one to declare him) and all the abstruseness he was shrouded in. Really, it was only a matter of time till she could fill in the blanks and let her hunch be given light in the way of questioning. He was quiet for only a moment but it seemed to stretch on like the miles they cruised. "I can remember a time that there were many of us. You would think after living for so long you would start to forget things. I can recall us as beasts before we were sought out by those we pledged to, being called to them by way of sacrifice. We weren't the smartest things at the very beginning but I assume not much is when the world was savage. I'm unsure if evolution is the correct term for what happened but we came to them as if we were curious to what mankind wished to ask of us. And from every corner of the realm we showed our faces to these men and women, and from there we chose those who resonated within us. We were what you would call the guardians of these families. The warriors who were sent when nothing else seemed to be the answer but what you have to understand is that not every family was good natured. Some were wicked, some were hellbent. Others were groomed in the light. Few were kept neutral and kept their ground in the gray area. Some of us were killed by a brother or sister, others found their physical demise in witchcraft from opposing families, but each one fell because of the Oath. I believe that some of us should never have fallen. Even more so now when there are so few of us left. To bring them back would mean that they would no longer be ushered into the Oath by families that I now deem unworthy of our service." Every breath of his statements came with a tenor framed in the strength of a guttural baritone, spoken slowly to officially lay it out on the proverbial table. His eyes never once left the route they were on. "And yes, it is a fear that I will be the last." To fully answer her question without the earlier nostalgia that he dragged from his mouth.

The callback to her mail tampering was enough to coax her smile out from hiding again. "That would be repetitive. How boring." Teased quietly in the space before he affirmed the questions she had been holding for what felt like forever to the woman who often pursued her suspicions in the immediate. Some things, some matters, she was able to handle with patience. Patience, at least, for her. And so his recollection came. Listened to with the sort of rapt attention that hung on each word in order to savor each last detail and greedily hope for more. A little illumination into the shadows of the lonely mountain. Cherished for what was allowed. Riotous in the storm of thoughts and questions set afire in her mind. Her face surely flickered through several emotions, though undeviating eyes would likely miss the marking of them. Was it really any wonder that she had volunteered her assistance? "I can't fathom..." Beginning softly when the vibration of his voice had stilled once more. "That is to say, I have known the loss of family, but not on such a scope. And not as a simultaneous winnowing of my kin." Cutting through the wellspring of emotion that his outpouring had sparked, was the simple absurd thought that she couldn't quite shake. There beside her, a being older than time, driving a car. It was a surreal moment, and she fell silent to absorb it.

A chuckle would serve to splice the tension from his own shoulders, how they were cluttered with depictions of the battles won, the stories never told anymore. Each one a recollection to the past with only more to surely come. "The odd part is, we are not related in the traditional sense. Most of us are just as clueless to how we came to be but we have our suspicions. Regardless, we knew one another to our bones. We fought, often and terribly chaotic, but then again, we are just animals when we are put under the microscope but we're all very different. Each one seemed to embody something else entirely. Some took to the sky, others the sea. Some found within the deserts while others prospered in the flourishing jungles." It was almost cathartic to be able to unleash this unorthodox fable to innocent ears. Her ability to cope with the amount of things he spoke on was a testament to her grounded philosophies. "The bloodline that I swore my Oath to is very kind. I have been with them since the first dawn of our contact. I do not regret it, either, not a single day. Perhaps that is what my kind was made for, to serve as hidden champions though somewhere along the way many of them became so involved in the scheming and need for power that they lost sight of what we once were. And for that, I am regretful." Eyes stole a glimpse of her within the gut of this car. It had to have been more than enough to swallow and sate a good portion of her insatiable appetite for answers. "And now? Do you look at me any different or do you find me to still be as charming as ever?" Even a conqueror from the primal days could herald some kind of insecurity no matter the dominance which brewed under the wrapping of human skin. "Because if so, then I take it all back and request that you think of this as me being creative enough to come up with such an extravagant lie." Flashing teeth beneath the fancied grin.

The more he spoke, the more questions formed in her mind. It was, perhaps, a kindness that her constant reordering of these inquiries into layers of importance kept her from interrupting the landslides of self-secrets that he let tumble from his lips in rumbled soliloquies. His stolen glance would find her a fascinated listener. Sating the insatiable was just as endless an endeavor as it seemed, but her hunger for answers could be temporarily abated. She would need time to filter through the things he had said. Time to analyze the way his inflection had changed on this word or that, to read the way his face changed, to listen for the words he hadn't said. She'd need time. And then again, she'd need only an instant. "I'd be lying if I said that I was sure of my suspicions before. I'd be lying if I said that the way I look at you hadn't changed in some way. But that change is not one that diminishes my opinion of you, or your ability to be charming. It's an expansion of my understanding of you that serves to reinforce my interest. Even if I don't think you're as good at lying as you claim." The draw of her lips in the flash of a smile to lend humor to words meant to be reassuring. Words that were, perhaps, an understatement. The fellow was a captivating conundrum. "Ezra, I have ever so many questions." She exhaled in a playful tone that seemed to cheerfully lay the blame for this squarely at his feet.

She was incredibly tenacious in the way she cloaked herself in self control. The powerhouse of answers he gave without many questions only leading to more locked doors that she undoubtedly would try to pick. It was the way she looked as a guileless seraphim from an age of paradise that few knew, compacted there in the car, greedily watching him but her sights were purely on him, that made him capture his own chin and jaw and scrape a calloused hand over the artistry of it. A symbolic gesture to attempt a shadow across his grinning aspect. "I'm sure you do, Shae. I'm sure you do. I suppose you have a little bit of time to ask while we're still on the road. There might be things that I can't answer, though."

Eyes darted to the road ahead of the vehicle as if the passing asphalt were a form of timekeeping, teeth worrying at her lower lip. As she truly looked out the window she realized that they had passed into a region of this realm that she was wholly unfamiliar with. So distracting had been their conversation that she'd been able to tune out the fact that they'd been in the car the whole time. Sure, it was there in the back of her mind, but when she spoke to him her attention had a way of narrowing to a space of mere feet. She turned her face back to him to give voice to one of many inquiries. "You said you each embody something. What is is that you embody?"

"The hunt, or so I was praised for. The evolution of life as it was before mankind. The natural order of all things, great and small." It was a tough question to answer but it should have been simple; nothing ever was. His words were carefully chosen from scriptures that had been forgotten while incorporating his first years of bestial memory into an explanation. She could probably pick out the telltale signs of being frustrated with conducting an answer that would make sense to someone so foreign to an archaic creed. "The heart." After a small production of silence from him. The ritual of his grin being granted aside to her. "Boring in comparison to those that seemed to run in the stars or challenge with tsunamis in the sea."

Fitting perhaps, that the heart should be afraid to be the last standing. The way he described himself made her fancy that he carried more precious memories. She was a long time before she spoke again. The interval used to fit the words he had chosen against her picture of him. Taking note of the frustration that flickered at the edges of his features when words proved insufficient. When he dared compare himself to the souls of his brethren, then did she speak. "No, I'd disagree." Quiet certainty. "So. The essence of...a framework for what came before? Distillation? The hunt, you said. For what?"

"The hunt for all that matters. Survival. We all survived by the will of the hunt, the need to sustain ourselves but not indulge. Some were hunters, others prey, but it was a full circle of what kept everything in motion. An animal dies to sustain another but it is not in vain. It was not to curb some initial instinct that made us predator. It was who we were, and what everything was." Still, there was that minute degree of frustration anchoring across his features but to abolish it he kept the grin, no matter if it curbed to the edge of a smirk. "The hunt for balance." After another period of quiet while he tried to issue answers from both his methodical thoughts and the memory lane of primal endeavors that seemed to be a shade of his long ago past.

"Survival. Balance. The dance of the rise and fall of the natural order of things." Not questions, nor assumptions. She mused through words, letting them slip from her tongue without certainty just to see how they sounded on the air. How was it that those first few that sought them had not believed these Primordials to be wild gods? Maybe they had. Maybe it had been an awe of the raw representation of forces in life that they could only hope to reach understanding of. "Thank you." It wasn't awe that filled her own regard. Gratitude, a measure of fascination. Perhaps it was the man skin he caged himself within, though now the straining at the edges had new meaning. He had evolved, he said. "Are you always as I see now? Has this become your state of being?"

Her understanding in those few phrases seemed to encourage the raw laugh that emerged in show rather than sound. The way his shoulders shook to pair with the effortless smile he was content to offer. "You're welcome." Still, the composed bravado of his murmur was in mirror image to his secure poise now even while driving. Her next quest for an clue didn't prevent him from taking a minute to formulate a response. "Not always, no. Most times I am for the sake of blending. We all had to adapt and with it came a sort of costume. It is still who we are but more of how we are seen now. In an effort to conceal us, those that we swore to gave us talismans and trinkets to undo our more aboriginal images. With time it became second nature for us to hide under the cover of a glamour, so it is now a part of us. Some are more comfortable than others while some are still peculiar about their state of feeling constricted. Every so often we take the mask off but we are cautious of where we choose to do it."

Shaking Up the Art Scene, part 5
The Museum

"You said you were a good driver, and you proved that." That did little to diminish the fact that she was noticeably happier to be out of the vehicle. There had been a layer of anxiety simmering beneath the surface of their conversations during the drive, and she now worked to shed it. Head lifting, Shae rounded the car and fell into step beside him with her hands clasped gently behind her back. "What was the name of this Museum again? The Museum of..." She couldn't recall, looking about for a sign or some lettering on the building. "There's a school here? Is it attached to the museum?" Still blissfully unaware that long yellow cars meant children. "Well, we don't have to go into the school, do we? Surely it will be on display somewhere?"

"High Town Museum. Mostly historic pieces but some are also from different realms that have been collected over the many years it's been around." Reciting what he had heard about the place, what he had looked up. It was like many other places of history that were rich with diverse culture. A laugh was let go just as he opened one of the many doors lined up in the front where people came and went. "It's not a school in the museum. Field trip, probably, for a local elementary school. Can tell by the buses." Gesture of his chin out to the line of them. "Did you have a school that you went to?" He found it a bizarre question but given the differences in the bloodlines found here he thought it a neutral inquiry to make.

One could almost smell the culture walking into the building. History was an odor that was hard to define. Slightly musty without being offensively so, decades of polish and wax, the metallic undertone of stone and brass. When he supplied the name of the museum, she simply nodded, but his comments about 'field trips? and 'elementary' school threw her briefly. "Buses..." Echoed quietly as she turned her head over her shoulder to spy them. Well, at least she knew what they were called now. "I...no, not officially. Did you?" Eyes brought back to the man as she passed inside. The mental image of the nebulously defined 'Primordials' attending an Academy lecture drew a stifled smile to her face. "I suppose you've had a good bit of opportunity, given the scope of time. Or is it that your...profession kept you away from such things?"

These things had not passed him in age. He had eons of time beneath his fingers and beneath his skin. Shallows of his eyes were for the sake of peacocking, of glamouring a world that didn't bother to sink too deep beyond the ochre. Still, he smelled of soap, clean laundry, whispers of a docile cologne. He didn't smell as the museum did though he surely could have been one of their pieces. "I never did go to school. Didn't find a reason to. Everything I have learned is from a different era and no longer is valued in this timeline. I also could never show evidence of a high school diploma." He shadowed behind her before emerging to her side. Hands slipped into the mouths of his pockets. Casual was his walk and in no rush so that Shae could browse the wide canvas of art on the walls or items on display that few people circulated around like a school of curious fish but he did go in a certain direction once they hit a split in the long hall they had entered.

Aged for display though he may be, he was still far more alive than those things that had been curated here. His did not seem, to her, to be a state of carefully arrested decay like the pieces that surrounded them. Showing no discomfort with the ebb and flow of bodies nor in navigating their currents, she lingered on a few items here and there. Long enough to read a placard, not long enough to let her imagination fester into inquiry. They were, after all, here for a reason. So it was that she didn't give cause for his stride to tarry overlong. Casual progression versus what would have been a longer train of visitations. During which she spoke. "I snuck into a few institutions of learning. Brief visitations. Some more successful than others. None with a tenure long enough to be considered 'schooled'. My father taught me much, the rest I picked up along the way." Books. Experimentation. Observation. Veering down the path he took.

"Was it your father that taught you about thaumaturgy?" It wasn't that she had completely laid the land of that philosophy but he was keen on observing, much like she was. There are certain stories to be told in a person, through the panes of their eyes, the bristling of weather or an unspoken taboo art. Not all creatures of diabolism hid behind brooms or sage burning; she was as unique as she was beautiful like many historical diviners. His question was located just to the side of her and muffled with how he coolly drew his tone to a slumbering murmur rather than a brazen cadence to capture any attention but her own.

There was no surprise attached to his conclusion on her arcane leanings, she certainly didn't take him for the oblivious sort. If he were, she might not have been so intrigued. "He laid the foundations, yes. Though piecemeal and with absentmindedness. I don't think he ever truly considered me as a fit apprentice. And, in truth, at that age I was nowhere near adept." Sheepish grin, eyes drifting briefly into the realm of memory. "That is to say, I was rather hopeless. It disappointed him, I think, but he taught me other things. Language, mostly, and a love of books." Her own words were the quiet sort shared over a cup of tea across a kitchen table, the setting was unimportant. Her voice would only reach his ears at her will, after all.

"Youth makes many seem hopeless and foolish but it's just a process. Everyone has their own coming through stage." It was his delivery that spoke the underlined meaning: He didn't find her to be either of those things. A grin cut and tethered along his mouth for a long moment and only melted the closer they seemed to gravitate to a specific location. "What kind of books do you enjoy the most?" Almost as if they were playing a little bit of her game but this one was sliced differently. There didn't appear to be any rules to just how many questions he could trigger off. Their foot steps were giving the barest of echoes the more empty the grand halls became of others, almost if they were being summoned elsewhere while they were driven forward.

"I'm not sure that stage ever ends. At least, I choose to not believe it does. I'm saddened by those who see themselves as finished pieces." The woman would not object to his questions, nor enforce those rules with him. It was a matter of comfort, and clearly she felt comfort in rewarding his queries with honest answers. In truth, her reminders of that game were subtle encouragement to that end. It was, after all, meant to be an ice breaker. Still, she was amused by reminders to have it playfully define some of their exchanges. "Cultural or personal stories are my favorites. Or ones that are written with a depth that brings truth from beneath fabrication."

"That is because you are genuinely interested in what people have to say." It was his take on how he had seen her, without the attachment of any type of mask. Whatever she concealed from him, from the world, wasn't completely hidden but it wasn't glamorized either. The grin he had been wearing began to dissect itself till it was barely recognizable. Stoicism wasn't rare but he hadn't shown an ounce of aggression when her shadow lingered. Now, the closer they got, the more he fought with the truth of what soon was before them. Both his hands still resided in his pockets when he slowed down to a complete stop in front of a glass casing. What it held was a thin piece of a thick creature. A bone that was discolored from age that could fit in the palm of his hand. Beneath it was a brief title of what they believed it to be but he knew better. It surely wasn't a fragment of a now extinct dinosaur from the plain of Earth and it wasn't a theorized bit of a long ago dragon fabled with Arthur and his knights.

"Of course, but it always helps when they, themselves, are interesting." There were some with rather plain stories and there were those with more exciting ones. Shae was self-aware enough to admit which one she had a preference for. Her eyes slid aside to offer her smile to him, only to be treated to the sight of that deconstruction of his own in progress. Falling a half-step back, she feigned interest in the displays along the way as he closed the distance to his prize. Allowing him a few moment's privacy upon coming face to face with what may or may not be another of his long sought puzzle pieces. Eventually, Shae meandered to a position just behind his left side. A hand reaching out to gently touch his arm as she leaned forward for a look. So it was that she quietly reached out with senses not unlike the ones she had used on his mail, curious if this piece of bone had a similar feeling.

Radiating. That's what it was doing. It pulsed as firmly as his own. What lay inside it was dormant but crackled with an unseen force. Ezra only took note of the small touch after a moment of her resting fingertips to his skin, finally breaking from centering his attention on the familiar puzzle piece in that glass casing to sidelong a look to her. His mouth eased up into a subtle tracing of a smile. "I have to give my source of information some credit this time around. I was expecting nothing, to be honest." His way of voicing that what he sought was literally right in front of him. There was no trick to the way he spoke to him. Teeth caved in against his bottom lip when he looked around the surroundings. Most seemed to stray elsewhere, some lingered to eye the works on the walls. "You trust me?" Spoken to the ever curious sylph, his smile morphing back into an unrestrained grin. Left hand pulled from his pocket to circle close to her lower back, touching almost as easy as she had laid fingers to him.

Shae took note of that feeling, that resonant pulse that spoke of history beyond what the plaque that labeled the piece was guessing at. A sleeping potency that sent a small thrill up her spine. It was his words that drew her eyes away, albeit reluctantly. One brow raising at the implication. Her senses had told her as much, but he was confirming it. It was what he was looking for. His eyes darted here and there to note others. Meanwhile, hers strayed from him to the piece and back again. Waiting, simply, to know his plan to secure it. The inquiry locked her gaze to his, a moment of serious consideration visible in discs of gold. What answer came forth was weighted where his grin warned of possible mischief. "Yes. I do." But then it was his hand against her back, and the warmth that seeped from it through the light layering of her dress, that shook her from her air of business. Suddenly, she was hyper aware of those two points of contact. Something she deflected with a playful narrow of her eyes. "Is this the part where I get to be distracting?"

Touch was an interesting thing that spoke in volumes not normally heard. An undertow of emotions could spark or crumble with anything as simple as what he constructed. Flat of palm urged against the crafting of the clothes she wore till he could pick out where the knots of her spine were. He was not quick to lure her in but slow, the baiting of a creature that was as wild and unpredictable as the breeze that wove about her shoulders. Inviting this fox in lambswool closer into his personal space till they could meet with an alignment of angles. The fitting that wasn't perfect but nothing ever was; he was flawed in being taller, thicker, a landscape of sinew coiled behind the scales of simple cotton and she was deceptively slight of glass bones that wouldn't shatter at the first toss of a stone. This was the stone. What he said came near her temple. Breathed out in an unorthodox sound that was less man, but not yet beast. "You are always distracting." Whispered with a flush of humidity to her skin and through her hair. The trembling that came rattled at the structure of the museum, first coming through their feet before it crawled into the walls. Those around looked cautious, and curious, till the earth itself shook as Jormungand tore through the center of their ground. Brought with it were falling canvas', the shattering of glass, the sudden hysteria of people fleeing in the midst of the quake but he stood his ground. And hoped Shae would stand it with him.

Of the possible scenarios he had intimated when discussing his caper, such a primal shaking of the earth would not have been high on her list of inferred outcomes. Broken glass, yes. Perhaps the fall of a canvas to distract from an object gone missing. A strategic retreat, some misdirection, some sweet talking of a tour guide. All of those things first. In fairness, she liked surprises. Ezra was treating her to several in a row. First that slow coaxing embrace and that heated whisper spoken with a layer of sound she'd not yet heard from him, then the rattling of the earth's bones. Either one could be responsible for the way her heart was now hammering in the cage of her chest and all the other little indications of a dose of adrenaline. He was sturdy amidst the violence of vibration, and she sought the implied shelter in an example of the trust he'd requested of her. Her breeze did not remain dormant, but rose in instinctual defense against debris that may fall or sail in their direction. Dust clouds and glass shards deviating in midair.

Subtle was not what he was attempting at this moment. A clean break away with no suspicion would be his ultimate goal. All rumbling ceased once many had vacated where they had been. He could have unwound from her, left her to flee the gravitational pull of his lineage, but he lingered a little longer than expected. "Must have been an earthquake." Not an announcement but it was far less visceral than his earlier claim to her being a perpetual diversion. Hand left the flat of her back when he dipped low no matter the definition of annoyance to doing so; the mechanical grating coming from his right side. "You okay?" It was a ruse of a question for the woman but he prompted it regardless while his hands were busy dusting some shrapnel from the walls and ceiling from his shoes, and hers before standing back up. The item they had come looking for nowhere to be seen across the scattering of it's glass tomb.

Overt had been his success in clearing the wing of the museum in which they now stood like two stubborn pillars amidst the wreckage. It was good, perhaps, that he didn't draw away too quickly. She had to release a handful of the fabric of his shirt where her left hand gripped above his right hip and pry her fingers, likewise, from his left arm. "You don't say." Drawled with all the sarcasm she could muster past the humming of her heartbeat and the conflicting urges her brain was screaming of to a body that was slow in responding. The brush of his fingers across the bare skin beneath the simple straps of her sandals tickled. That odd sensation served to give her brain the reboot it needed. Hands checked for missing parts, but found all accounted for on her own person. "Mm. Yes. I'm fine." Bone had vanished, an absence to be noted, hopefully, only much later. "Are you alright?" That harsh sound from his side drawing her attention. "I imagine they'll want us to evacuate the building." There was the vague persistence of dry humor, and a study of his face. Whatever she was looking for, she clearly didn't seem inclined to flee.

"A little shaken up but I'll be fine." It was a play on words and the phenomenon of activity that had passed them by. Unscathed save for the slash of his grin that could have been devilish had it not been for the recurring fervor swimming the depth of his eyes. "Come on." Encouraging her by relocating his fingerprints across her lower back. It was a particularly common spot to touch at yet his own surged with that savory oscillation that was common among forgotten aeons. Each step they took brought them further through the labyrinth of the halls, passed wide eyed folks that were struck with a bit of fear at the suddenness of the quake. Their own features didn't seem to express any kind of confounded state, not when he was holding back the conscious smile that threatened to unleash a chuckle. "I suppose you're a bit upset at not being able to wander the museum longer? Damnable forces of nature. Ruining it for you. Maybe I can make it up with buying you dinner, to make this trip a little more worth the time spent in that death trap of a car?" All spoken during their journey. They didn't rush; people were chattering about what they felt, what they saw fall from the historic landmark, and they were casual in their autopilot to the doors.

"Ha." That single syllable of sound was more exhale than vocalization in acknowledgement of his punning. Careful steps used to navigate past the foot hazards that riddled the floor, such that she could only offer the occasional echo of his smile. It would, she hoped, read as nervous giddiness to those they passed. From his angle, sly appraisal was evident. Still, the guiding pressure of his hand had the effect of straightening her spine. Glances spared presented farcical, wide eyed faces to her gaze as people became sudden vocal experts on how lucky they were. Voices of hushed excitement and false bravado finding the shell of her ears along with the refrain of hoping no one was hurt. She heard no cries of pain, but such thoughts distracted her from an immediate response. "I lament the unpredictable damage to the collection, to be sure. I suppose dinner might console me." Absently, she reached over to pluck a piece of plaster out of his hair. It was flicked to the side and her palm brought against the curved metal of the bar that would push open the door by which they had entered not so long ago. "So much driving for such a short time, hm? But what little I got to see was very educational."

"I'm sure it was." Commenting on what she found so inspiring about their short visit with a zealous tone to conclude his humor. Once outside (and once she had finished helping to groom the mess from his hair) he drew in a deep breath to help center himself. The item stationed in his pocket was an organic link to bold times, to more primitive days, and it shook at his nerves as an inside hurricane might. "What do you feel like eating?" They were headed back for the car but he was sending out his attention to the streets nearby, interpreting if they held anything worth their time in terms of food or even just a drink.

Were there ever a one who could empathize with the sensation of a hurricane trapped in a confined space, it would be the woman who walked beside him to his car. Outside she gave him a half-step of space and considered. "Are you sure dinner is the matter that should be foremost on your mind?" Her words were quieter now. "I mean to say, is there something you should be taking care of first?" Dinner was appealing, sure, but she felt it only prudent to offer an alternative itinerary. "Unless, of course, that earthquake set off a rumbling in your intestines that requires addressing." A touch of amusement as her steps angled towards the passenger's side of his Charger.

Laughter came and shook as the ground might have but the landscape it rumbled through was his lungs, his throat, past his mouth. "You might be right." There was no instinct to devour anything other than the element he had stolen from the museum. The song it sang was as rich as a siren to the ears of a sailor. "Rain check on dinner, then?" Questioning her; he found that she was more in tune with what he was dying to do than he was. Charger gave a clicking when the doors were unlocked and the alarm turned off the closer that they got.

"I have my moments." His laughter came as her heartbeat was once more finding normalcy in its rhythm, giving it a final skip. That jolt tossed a smile upon her features. "Rain check it can be. I know I wasn't much help today, but I appreciate you letting me keep you company." The car was making noises at her. There was a moment of hesitation before she touched the handle to unlatch the door. No more noises yet. Nothing exploded. Shae deemed it safe to sit in the car again.

Words sat on the edges of his teeth. His lips parted but nothing was resolved from it, only a grin that lasted as long as it took for him to settle into the drivers seat. "I'm glad you accompanied me." Genuine in sound, just as authentic as the expression he passed aside to her. "Let's get you home in one piece. Though, I'm a little upset that you didn't wear the helmet the entire way." Teasingly said in baritone richness. The car revved alive before they were set to coast all the way back to the Inn.

Delivering Assistance, part 2
11:13 PM, 6/6

Room 103 in the Inn had a door that was unassuming, unlike the one down the hall carved with spiders. It was quiet, and perhaps that was the first sign that there was something different about it. Light came from beneath the door, but silence prevailed. Those with the senses to detect magic would be able to sense wards of privacy and protection. The lock, in particular, had a slightly dangerous aura that quietly dissuaded sneak thievery via forced entry.

Aura or not, he would have treated the door as if it were any other. Making good on a subtle promise to acquire a meal for the recluse woman that resided in the very space that he did. The Inn was a giant vat of different faces that were just living day to day in the same vein. Knuckles gave a good scrape across the front of the door. Opposite hand held a plastic bag that smelled of slowly cooling junk food.

Silence. Then the wards lowered and the sound of movement could be heard. "Just a second!" Through the door. Fumbling at the lock and then the door was pulled just wide enough for Shae's face to peer out. Black hair in a braid that was already half fallen apart. Fatigue and purpose bright eyes. The hallmarks of hours past requisite sleep with the aid of things like caffeine and sugar. "Oh, Ezra." Her smile did a good bit to disguise the indications of effort in her features. The door swung wider, giving a partial view of her room A chest at the foot of a bed whereupon Fox had made himself a nest of her blankets. The woman, herself, was attired in dark grey dancer's pants and a long sleeved shirt of pale yellow. "Ah, come in, come in." Stepping back further to make room.

Exhausted was the first word to be written in his mind at seeing her. There was a lack of what he considered a natural, aromatic chaos that she swept in or out with. Fatigue traced from her eyes to her brows, down across the show of her lips. He didn't make mention of it. Bag of food was held up with the contents remaining a surprise in the containers hammocked by plastic. "I kept my end of the bargain. Where's the helmet?" Sounding forlorn in tone till it cracked with a break of his grin. He towered with his shadow along her floor when stepping within. Fox was given a general glance but they were not on speaking terms. Not yet.

That breeze was still there, filling the interior of her room and circulating air when wards shut down the natural flow. The rest of the room would become visible as he slipped within. Across a small stretch of floor from her bed, spaced by a curtained and cracked open window, was a desk and a chair. The desk was of a decent size, light in the room provided by candlesticks and lit lanterns amid a row of neatly labelled jars of herbs. The majority of the desk space was given over to an assembly line of strips of parchment decorated in runic markings. At the end of the desk a door led to a private bathroom. Against the wall on the other side of the door was a bookcase that was already near full. Many tomes, however, were labelled with the mark of the Academy library where she worked. Fox lifted his head as Ezra stepped within, up-nodding a greeting to the man. "I left the helmet in your automobile, remember?" Wrinkling her nose at him. "I don't see a cape, either."

"I figured you could overlook the lack of a cape for the food." Humored in timbre, mirth in the ochre of his eyes. He took in his surroundings, from the runes grafted into wood to the tomes all orderly in the book case. "Hope you don't mind, it's just a cheeseburger and french fries from a diner I spotted on my way here." The goods were set down atop the desk, mindful of anything that might have been cluttered close by. He wore the tradition of simplicity, still, with faded jeans and a t-shirt that clutched to the broad lines of his torso. Smelling of sandalwood, far away rain over dirt, and muted hints of shower soap from hours prior.

She hustled to the desk to move her work aside, Papers gathered into a pile and shoved into an empty drawer. Quill set in an empty jar. Her backside took the space on the desk where her work had been. A gesture to the desk chair welcomed him to have a seat. There or the bed. She wasn't picky when space was at a minimum. "I can forgive you." Soft grin. Hands were already digging into the bag to pull out the greasy goods. "Did you get something for yourself?" With crossed legs, her lap became a table. Fries leaned against a leg, burger wrapper balanced on a thigh. "If not, do you want to share this?" Offered around the quick stuff and swallow of salted strips of potato. Drinks? If not, she had some.

"No, thank you." Hands showed themselves with palms facing out. General in his declining of her offering though he took note of her willingness to share. Desk chair was taken up as his own in lieu of the bed. His right side hadn't been bothering him much since their excursion to the museum which he always found interesting; after laying his claim to the bits left of the Primordials it always seemed to make the pain lukewarm rather than festering to a boiling degree. Shae was watched once he had finished inspecting her little shop of sanctuary. "You know, I have to ask why you couldn't just relinquish your station in this room and go forage for food yourself." Clever in wording it away from seeming concerned. A grin positioned lazily across his mouth.

"Because." Pointing a fry at him before eating it. Leaning to the right let her reach another drawer from which she pulled a bottle of water. "I'm under a bit of a time crunch with this project and being prepared too early is far better than not being prepared for what may come in this situation." Careful straightening of her torso and a quick hand to keep the burger from falling. The bottle of water was cracked open for a sip, then set aside. Greedy fingers were after that burger wrapper now. Fox yawned wide, the smell of food pulling him from his lethargy. Slowly, he extracted himself from that blanket nest. Coming to a rest and a set at an angle adjacent to both the chair filled with mountain and the desk perched breeze. Casual flaring of nostrils took in Ezra's scent, but his attention zeroed in on Shae's food. Without breaking her attention from her guest, Shae was tossing the canid a fry. "If I could make the food manifest in here, I wouldn't have bothered you. At least this affords me the brief pleasure of your company." Pausing, she lifted the cheeseburger. "And our raincheck."

"What project would that be?" Baited into the question as he was completely oblivious to what that entailed. She was harboring the current in these four walls with her company being in the form of unspeaking books and a lax eyed companion. Fox moved and with it came Ezra's line of focus; he didn't stare in a malicious way, or even a curious one, but seemed genuinely amused over the subtle task of the creatures begging. Brows shifted up, his expression changing from lenient to manifesting a made up disinterest. He could be good at holding on to such a sobriety for only a few minutes. "Oh, you are mistaken. This counts as me buying you dinner. One you didn't need to get made up for." A dubious comment on her choice of ensemble. "It's cute." Confession paired with a deep chuckle that was rich and warm with pestering enthusiasm even when it was delivered slowly.

Delivering Assistance, part 4

Her contrast was vibrant enough for him to witness. He wasn't about to let it be swept beneath the proverbial rug. "No, go on. What did you want to ask?" Fox was given a brief glimpse and though he didn't say it, there was humor curving along his mouth with an appreciative smile for the gratitude of the familiar. "You suddenly shy to ask me a question?" Given her ability to overwhelm most with them, he found this curious on his own.

Another sip of water after her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. The window and the curtain that stirred in her zephyr held her eye for a spell. Brief was her debate. "It's not shyness. I misread the moment, I do that sometimes, it wouldn't have been appropriate there. I can find another to ask, if you like." Gently curving lips quirked in his direction before her eyes detached from the shifting light to settle there. "Such as what you were doing before I interrupted your evening?"

He allowed her to escape from the quarantine of what she had at the tip of her tongue before storing it for later, or never again. Not ushering in some prodding to get her to spill whatever it may have been. That wasn't to say he wasn't attempting to decipher her expression, like the answer may have been stowed away through the colors of her eyes. After a moment of studying and coming up empty handed, he gave up on that task, too. "I was running errands. Spoke a bit with some friends of mine who are interested in the piece that ended up being real at the museum. I believe two of them will be showing up at some point just to make sure I'm not lying."

The reconsideration came in that moment of study, but it would be a saving rather than a discarding. He'd moved on in subject at her insistence, after all. Teeth to the inside of her cheek, hands finding purchase on the edge of the desk between her thighs. A small sway in place as she listened. Her reply took a moment. "Friends, recruiting more help?"

"No, just old friends. I wouldn't ask any of them to outwardly help me." He had his reasons but he kept them close to home rather than delivering them into the open, no matter that they were far away from public eyes or ears. "We haven't seen one another in a while. Would be good to see them. Libby was around not too long ago, around the same time that I came to check on everyone. She's a bit like the wind, though." A chuckle emerged as it went both ways between a close kin and the sylph who looked to sway to the timbre of his words. "We'll see if they actually show. We all have our Family's, after all."

"But they approve, more or less, of what you are pursuing? Or is that the point of them coming, to pass judgment?" Despite the privacy, or perhaps because of it, Shae's words tumbled forth quietly. Other Primordials. "When you say this one, Libby? When you say she's 'like the wind', do you mean that in the same way that you are like the hunt?" One foot drew up onto the desk and arms shifted to wrap around that bent leg. "I..." Cutting herself off again. Maybe not so long of a delay as she had planned. She wanted to ask more about this woman, but she also wanted to know if her aborted request would be interpreted in a way she wouldn't be able to tolerate. "Ezra. How do you view me? People like me. Are we...do you find me foolish? Too young? When you probe my actions, for example, is it concern or..." Or. "I realize that my life may be but a footnote in length compared to yours."

"None of them outright approve but I think they're curious. To see if it can be done. And if they are coming just to pass judgement, they will be extremely let down when they get here." A grin could easily be paraded into a smirk when his expressions were varied, even in the shadows here with the dim light to address them accordingly. Libby was an easy topic for him to juggle given their contact, a strange bond that often happened when you went an eon of surviving. "In a way, but Libby is her own. She's quick, adventurous, compassionate but fierce. Many of us have always been close with Libby. It's hard not to be when you get to know her." He may have spoken openly about his own state, the legends that fell in his eyes, but he was less interested in serving up facts of brethren. Wasn't his place. Her next question made him scale his brows in a small frown, out of confusion, but as she went on he realized what she meant. "Foolish? No. Not at all." Hand dragged across his mouth before giving a drape to his jawline, tilting his head in it's new station to eye her sidelong. "I question things because I want to know the answers to them. It has nothing to do with me judging you, or thinking you immature. If I found you like that, would I have told you such things about myself that I haven't shared with anyone in a long, long time?" Still watching her. Reading between the lines of her features if they changed, softened or hardened.

"Curious is a state of being I find I can understand." Murmured with the phantom of humor in a self-deprecating flicker of her lips. One that returned at his smirking. "In a way." The words echoed to try and decipher the meaning in that short phrase, but with very little luck in actually doing so. His follow-up seemed to suggest something else. "A quality of her character, then." Neither of these an actual question. With mouth and chin pressed against her knee, she surveyed his reaction to her more personal inquiry. Guarded. Such was the state of her eyes. Caution in the lines he was currently reading. Eventually, she drew back to speak. "I don't fault you for the questioning, how could I? I am still learning you, Ezra. And I hope you'll tolerate more of my curiosity about you. Lately you've learned some things about me. I find I have a hard time reading your reactions. I asked rather than operate on a misunderstanding of our mutual impressions and I...need to stop talking." Soft chuckle, the caution breaking as she heaved a sigh through her nose.

"And am I supposed to be reacting a certain way?" A legitimate question, he figured, since she was scouring him for reactions in the first place. He wasn't the type to wear masks, no matter that his entire being was, literally, a facade but it was more to blend rather than to conceal his thoughts on things. "What was your impression?" She could stop talking but that didn't mean he wouldn't instigate her to do it more. There was nothing he looked at her with that would be scathing or stubborn, not even pompous, but he was clearly analytical about the topic that she was now dragging the roots out of. Keeping his chin and jaw tucked in the fold of a large, rough housed hand had a good leverage of eyes on her, in a rare moment where she was slightly taller than the mountain who sat in the chair.

"What? No." Blinking at him with a shade of alarm. "Stars, no." She watched him for reactions, yes, but there was never a mental script of what those should be. Fox had finished his greasy foraging and returned to the business of watching them while licking his chops. "No, that's not what I meant. My impression? A bit confused." Fingers tugged at her hair gently. "Hence why I broke down to ask for clarification. Normally I tend to figure things out as I go, but normally I take a little longer with what I choose to say. So I suppose new territory called for adaptation." Was she doing it again? She felt like she was. "Ah hell."

He felt it may be subjective to laugh at her digging another hole for herself but he helped her climb from it by drawing a grin to show as a new sun. "Look, Shae. I don't think you foolish. I don't doubt your perception to things. I don't think you are making a mistake. The times you have told me about certain scenarios didn't change my view of you, and it sure didn't place any kind of judgement in my bones. I like you, just the way you are." Announcing without boasting. His tone was constant, rumbling, far away as if a monsoon was threatening but never really passed. Hand gestured away from his face to lean against his left knee, drumming over the bone that was there.

She wouldn't have blamed him for laughing if he had. On another night she might well have done the same. In her fatigue, all she could muster was a rueful little grin. A hand, then both to rub at her face. The second leg drawn up to fold with the first, her lap becoming a new home for her restless fingers. "Thank you, Ezra." Genuine gratitude in her tone. "That's very clear." Verbose before, she clearly was attempting to curb her verbal choices and confine them to more succinct sets.

"Good." Executing the conversation at the throat with that period piece, letting it out just as he started to push to his feet. Emotions often ended up being misconstrued, or thoughts were thought on longer than needed, when the body was as tired as the mind. He didn't wish to pressure it further. "I should be heading out. Glad I could bring you some food, which is technically like buying you dinner." Enriched with a fool hearted chuckle that drummed deep through his chest, spidering out through the ever present draft that followed her. "I'm down the hall, which I'm sure you know, if you need anything else. Try to get some sleep, though."

His rise seemed to shake her back towards her usual composure, which she used to deliver herself back to her feet. The rise from her desk perch wasn't her most graceful, but it would suffice to give some hint to the dancer's elasticity in her frame. "You were very kind to bring it." Palms sketching a path across the outside of her thighs before she took a step towards her door. "Hey now. I was the one that said it could count. You were the one to insist it didn't." Reminded gently as she paused by the door. "And yes, I recall which one." Chin tilted down in a poor attempt to hide her smile.Fingers on the door, the turn of the handle. She stepped back to pull it open and stood with the exterior handle at the small of her spine. Eyes lifted then to him. "Though I think, if I visit, I'd prefer it to be better company for you. So yes, I'll try to get some sleep."

"I'm a man who is prone to changing my mind." Needling in the potent alchemy of his tone to reassure her that the frame he was composed with was just as mirthful as their first encounter. He stood adjacent to her, the door opened and him free to leave, but he watched her for a minute longer than he set out to. "You're always good company, Shae." Improving on his grin by letting it crease into a smile, one that unraveled from teeth before biting into the bottom of it. "Have a good night." Curving around her to casually exit her abode. A few steps through the heavy shade of the barely lit hall he glanced over his shoulder back to where he had come from. Soon he became a myth to the night by urging himself into his own sanctum that was not far from her own.

First, the tilt of her head was to take in the evolution of his expression. To enjoy that unintended linger and offer a playful reply. "You're not so bad yourself." Then it was to mark his exit and retreat. "Be safe, Ezra." The murmured words catching up to him as he slipped through his door as if she were standing next to him rather than down the hall. Her door shut shortly after his.

Wandering Mountain
Late Morning at the Inn, 8/5

The denizens of the town were not as active at this hour. Nocturnal by nature, late nights partying, or days at work. Whatever the excuse, daylight often meant an Inn devoid of company. Taking advantage of this, Shae was coming back from what would qualify as a long evening. At some point she'd changed and showered, but it couldn't quite eliminate the smell of oils and fire that clung to her breeze. Her clothing was clean, a simple summer dress in sky blue, hair damp and combed. Fox slunk in just behind her and headed straight for the stairs with his tail hung low. Her destination was the space behind the bar.

She would be greeted with an empty ghost town of an Inn save for a single fragment of familiar outlining. It's a sight for sore eyes, surely, to witness the painted mountain back in the thick of the nostalgic scene that started it all. He had gotten in late but his timeline was severed between here and where he had been traveling. Sleep was not on his side this early in the morning but come noon he would feel the prior hours weighing heavily across his shoulders. The coffee pot was just being snuck back into it's holster when he gave a small glance over to the steps but he didn't need to survey the patron that breeze by scent was connected with. Half of his mouth quirked into a grin when he turned back to empty three packets of sugar into the black abyss of his morning brew. "Good morning." No matter how low the decibel of his murmur, it seemed to vibrate in a land that was empty of any save the primal wearing a man suit and the zephyr inspired witch.

Progress halted halfway across the common room when gold eyes picked the figure out of the bar furniture gauntlet between herself and the kettle. There, occupying the space she sought was a man of colorful skin projecting that voice that had become a familiar rhythm to her. One she heard now when she read things penned in his hand. One blink. A second, then a flicker of a smile as warmth crept into her greeting. "Well. Would you look what the cat sith dragged in." Smile grew as her progress resumed to the server side of the bar, making room for herself with the mountain. A hip bump for him in her passage towards the kettle. "It's good to see you. Thank you for the post card." She'd had to ask what a post card was, but once she understood the concept she was touched.

Well worn is the sound of his laughter. A deep chuckle that could be felt through the atmosphere. The nudge of her hip to his own got him to be lured in a turn, resulting in a lean along the back of the bar to face her better. This place was empty, save for them, so he made no effort to give more room seeing that they both had plenty. "Cat sith?" Curious, his eyes spoke it, too, when he kept watch on her during the anticlimactic rendezvous after what seemed like too long. "You're welcome. I'm glad it found you, to be honest. Wasn't sure if it would survive given where I was, and where this place is. How are you?"

The process of preparing tea was so familiar to her that she might even be able to complete the task while asleep. Distracted by a face she found herself glad to see was a surmountable obstacle. Hands moved smoothly, if a bit slowly, to complete the task. The right kettle, enough water, a mug favored for no reason other than she liked the character in the faults of the pottery glaze. "Cat sith. Fey creatures." The tone of her explanation suggested she had expected him to get the nod towards his oathbound obligations. Shae wasn't unaffected by the reunion, in fact the urge to grin still threatened at her lips. And she was awfully intent on that tea. Surprise lurked in her eyes, directed more at herself than at him. "I'm..." Words briefly failed. It had been almost two months and they had not been uneventful. "I'm okay, ...yeah." Lower lip trapped in her teeth, the flesh stretched against the smile as she reached for honey. "Maybe we can work something out so I can send you return missives the next time you're off. How are you? How was...wherever it was?"

"Ah." Another chuckle, this one only stifled when he took a drink from the mug in his hand. "I wouldn't say I was dragged. Was happy to come back." She seemed extremely aware of where things were to bring her morning tea to life and he watched the way she did this with a small show of interest. It's the pause she gives that pulls him from playing voyeur to her hands to looking up against the backdrop of her eyes. "Okay?" The husk of the tone is questioning but not bullying. He isn't the type to corner her into spilling the highs and lows that came while he was gone. "Okay is good. And that would be nice but I'm not sure if it's possible." About her replying with missives of any kind. "Aside from being tired --", trailing with a hand to pat against the front of his chest. The fabric of that faded black t-shirt wrinkling around the bulk of his sinew beneath. "-- I'm good. The trip was great. Saw some old friends, happened on a brother of mine who I hadn't seen in quite some time. Was good to get away for a while."

"Okay." She reassured him with a smile. "No deaths. No injuries. Been introduced to hot dogs, which I've decided are poor attempts at sausages, and milkshakes, which are just genius. Fox has gotten a job. Well, a future job. To be paid in steak to help advertise a new business. Contract work is progressing, no more unpleasant surprises while dancing. Oh, and I'm no longer working at the library. I've taken a position teaching at the request of an acquaintance at the Dragon's Gate Orphanage." All this rattled off while she put the finishing touches on something that smelled of rose and lemon. It was a part of her day to day, the lighthearted section to match her current mood. "You missed a lovely art gallery opening. Though you seem to have made it back in time for the upcoming drinking festival." The mug was left to steep as she took up a lean on the counter opposite him. "A brother? So you have a direct sibling among the living, or is that just how your kind refer to one another?

"Sounds as if you have been very, very busy." Which was not at all a bad thing. He implied it with a smile before settling the mug down. Both arms swarmed out to wing themselves, stretching the tense batch of fatigue that was bottled in his marrow from all the recent travels he had done. "There's a beerfest? I guess my timing is just perfect, then." Which was to say that regardless of his mannerisms, his pedigree, that he was still somewhat a man. A man who enjoyed taste testing new things where alcohol was concerned. "So will Fox be paying the bills now? Dragon's Gate Orphanage. Can't say that I've heard of it but that isn't surprising seeing that I still don't know much about this place." Her inquiry towards his family got him to tilt his head towards her. "It's just how we refer to one another. We're all different but no less family since we were spawned at the same time. I have no actual, blood related siblings in the traditional sense of the word."

"I went back to that fruit seller, too. She seemed disappointed that you weren't there. Something about increasing sales with innuendo." Delivered with a straight face, no less. "I have been, and yes, there is. I was tempted by it. Will probably go just to enjoy watching other people get drunk. Take pictures. Start a sideline business of blackmail." This time she made it more evident that she was teasing. "If the bills could be paid in cuts of beef I'd be willing to let him shoulder some of the load. As it is, I'm thankful that a few of his meals will be taken care of." Because the witch was under no illusions that she'd actually get to have any of that steak. "It's been in the news now and again. Most recently when a trafficking ring was broken and several underage girls were transferred there." Shae nodded her understanding as he clarified on her question. "Tell any of them about your recent find?"

"Do you need an escort?" He was bold in that question but it came at no price. Behind the words was the same grin he typically wore, the comforting bench of his lips peeling from his teeth that were not shown in some ritualistic machismo fashion. "I'd be happy to tag along if you want." One hand waved outward to signal that he was up for it, or if she would decline he would be fine either way. Completely casual in the inquiry. "Can't say I know much about blackmail but I'm sure I can be good at it if I put my mind to it." Addressing it with his own bout of taunting, sawing away a slice of a chuckle till he reclaimed that mug of coffee. "No, not yet. Maybe once I find a little more of the pieces I will explain myself but till then, no harm, no foul." About how he had been collecting trinkets that were disposed of Primordials. "Plus, it was an unexpected surprise to see him so it was mostly just catching up about our lives, our Families."

"To the fruit seller or to the beer drinking? I don't need an escort for either, but I would be glad of your company, certainly. Such things are always better with others, aren't they?" His willingness to be accessory to her suggestion of blackmail, despite the lack of seriousness behind it, got her smiling again. She reached for the mug which had fully darkened with color, bringing it to her lips as he sipped from his own. "I may have asked this before, so forgive me if we are treading over old ground, but are there any of your siblings that don't have a Family of their own?"

"To either, I suppose. Wouldn't mind seeing the fruit seller again." It was a very see through taunt that he sent there but he knew it wouldn't erupt any sort of girlish envy from the witch. She was too stalwart, not unlike that of a storm that already knew where it was going. "I think so. I can be your designated driver if you would be interested in riding in the car with me again?" Chuckling into the gut of that mug, setting it down again and his eyes trailed after the movements he made rather than setting their full, dark weight on her. "No, not anymore. Those that are gone are the only one's not tied to an Oath, and like most of them, their Families are also gone. It's not unusual for a Family to perish without their guardian." Said with little to no remorse but the vague hitch in his throat suggested it was a somber part to his history.

"I'm sure she has some melons she'd be willing to let you sample." Grinning cheekily. The childish suggestion was practically deserving of a theatrical waggle of brows, but she refrained. "My designated driver?" The phrase gave her a little bit of trouble. It didn't come up nearly as often as it should among the high-functioning alcoholic population of the city, as such she had no reference for it. "You're offering to be my...transportation. Sure. I survived once, I can do it again. If you get drunk you can purge into that helmet you're so fond of." She'd stolen a long glance at him while he stretched, and now she stole another. "You truly do play a pivotal role to them, don't you." Murmured against her tea.

All laughter subsided after catching the drift of her murmuring. His head hung a little while attention navigated towards their shadows, his own displayed as a warped sense of what lay beyond the threading of a human skin. "Yes, we do. Gives us a bit more purpose these days." Which was better than becoming a forgotten bit of history that would eventually die out as the very dinosaurs did. He let his arms cross along his chest, chin etched up to pinpoint his sights on her a bit better.

Shae chewed over her lips gently, busying them with more tea to free them from her tendency to abuse them in certain conversations. Out of habit, her eyes followed those of the person she spoke with, which meant a detour to where the light outlined their forms on the floor. Attention lingered there a bit longer than his, a expression of furrowed brows that eased as she returned her gaze to his face. He had more purpose than just his duties, he was aware of it so she felt no need to say as much. His personal quest on behalf of his kin was the stuff lives were made of. What she did say, in just as simple a murmur as that which carried her last words, was: "I'm glad you're back."

"I'm glad I'm back, too." Which was, in his own way, saying that he was happy to see her. And almost just as pleased to her hear her say such a thing. The coffee mug was emptied out and he came close enough to tower near her when resting it in the sink. "Your friend, how is she doing?" Honestly curious of the whole fiasco which he was in the dark with but clued in enough to want to ask after. Twisting to lean but facing her enough in this new posture. Close enough that the morning shower could be smelled on his skin.

It was enough to allow a smile to ease back onto her face. Even with nervous sips at her tea, she still had a measure left. Now she nursed it. There were a few friends that had been of concern. One issue that had spiked rather dramatically shortly after his departure in June, but he wouldn't have known about that. No, she knew which friend he meant. "She's better. Recovering well. I suspect she'll be released soon and the matter will be resolved." Tilting her head up slightly as his nearer position brought him close enough that the difference in height made it necessary.

"What was her name again?" He was still curious, enough to indicate it by the question he asked with his attention still spilling into the vastness of her pale gold eyes. A grey wash of hurricanes could be in there, caged typhoons. They were the abstract element of being in contrast to the russet and ochre of his own sights. "And -- matter will be resolved? So?" The things they had spoken of before. Of them attempting to snuff out monsters that were hiding in the dark like roaches. She was still alive, well, in one piece. It either meant they had yet to embark on this mission or that they had returned safe and sound.

"Antonia." The gaze maintained over a sip of tea, lightning gold to earthy hues. There were no hurricanes within her eyes that day, but always a storm edge threatened to eclipse. Washing color from her eyes like the rush of clouds covering the sun when stress or emotion gained a foothold on her normal composure. "Within days, I suspect. Final stages. Notes of warning will be sent to those I have promised such offerings to." She paused, exhaled slowly, and continued while taking slow, backward steps towards the stairs. ?You may have gathered already, but I was out all night. In the interest of not sleeping in the common room, I must beg retreat this morning. I?ll text you about the festival when I wake, promise!?

Making Up For Lost Birthdays
The Inn, 09/27/15

Wasn't hard to understand that the lack of light beneath his door was due to his lack of being there. Weeks had gone by since he had borrowed some of the shadows here, migrating across to unknown landscapes that had once forbid him from entering, centuries later and he had given up with playing by the rules. Traveling didn't take much out of him but the structure of thoughts he had, ideas that evolved, weighed down on his energy to keep him sleeping like a formidable beast for a few days since his return. Reshaping his stature into a more cordial mummification where clothes were concerned, drawing a t-shirt over the thick sinew of chest, shoulders, arms, before reattaching the fabricated limb of his leg. Fixing it to help with the phantom pain that never washed out from his sensory perception. Shae knew the secret, making it easy for him to not cover it up and keep the length of carpenter shorts he wore on, khaki in its travelers opaque color.

Destination didn't take long to reach given her room wasn't far from his own. He wondered what had happened between then and now, if she could precisely remember the sharp architecture of his features, could recall the bass of his timbre or the deceptive sound of his aloof laughter. Right hand balled together to knock against her door. His left hand carrying a medium sized gift box that wasn't wrapped in anything other than brown shipping paper with a knotted bit of twine holding it all together.

As usual, there was nothing but silence from her door. This, of course, didn't mean her absence. Light escaped the net of her wards and the warm glow that just stretched orange fingers onto his feet betrayed a presence within. Shae hadn't been expecting anyone and so the door opened a crack to reveal a slice of a curious, confused expression. "Who is--" The question stalled out as recognition widened the one visible eye. The door opened wide enough to reveal the sylph with a hand on her hip bunching a fold of her dress. Well look what the storm blew in, or so her posture said. Her face, at any rate, sported a wide smile. "Hello stranger."

"Stranger? Forgotten my name already?" Not sincere in any of the rolling thunder that was swept away by the curve of his grin. Head tilted at an angle to draw some of the flickering light from her own shelter to his face, shadowing a portion to help conceal the tease. "Thought I would stop by, say hello. Maybe see if you were interested in a gift." Casually rolling out the offering with his left hand, the right clutching at the door frame. "If you're not, though, I'm sure I can find someone else that would be willing to take it off my hands."

"Hardly. Did you come back to town because I spoke your name in conversation the other day? If that is what summons you I'll have to do it more often. I was beginning to think you had forgotten where I lived. Or my phone number." The witch took the step back needed to swing her door wide and gestured him inside. "Come on in, you. It so happens I have something for you as well. We can trade while you regale me with what it is that you've been up to while you've been away."

"I was wondering why my ears were ringing." Half truth, half lie. He swindled his humor into the cut of his smile, moving from the door frame to roll the bulk of his figure into her haven. The package he had been carrying was set down on an open space before he could take himself to a chair. At ease, completely, with no lines of tension tightening up his anatomy. "There isn't much to tell, unfortunately. Typical story about a humid jungle that I did some searching on, coming up pretty empty handed. Waste of time." A slight edge to his confession as if he was disappointed in himself, in the way things had gone, but it didn't linger longer. "Something for me?" Now he was glancing around for clues. (d)

Once the mountain had shifted his mass within, the sylph nudged the door closed. Her room wasn't terribly different. Perhaps a few more books crowding the bookshelf. A different sort of arrangement on her desk. There was somehow less of her presence here, as if it didn't retain as much of her essence as it once had. Perhaps it was the way the bed was still made, or the flowers that were dried in the small vase by the window. He claimed the solitary chair, and so she took to perching on her desk next to the package. Curious as ever, she eyed the parcel but managed to restrain the urge to pick it up. "I'm sorry to hear that. And yes, something for you." Leaning to the side, Shae opened a drawer on her desk and removed something wrapped in cloth and tied with a satin ribbon. This she held out to him. "Happy Birthday."

"Happy --", but it didn't take long for him to regain a type of cleverness, finding the rippling of what was happening when he reached out to take what she offered. It made him laugh. Not a bellow of a sound, not quite enough to escape an audible volume. It was rich with the sincerity of an eon old beast that had kidnapped the savagery and turned it into a more mundane sound. Still, in the thick of it, you could hear the rough scaling of a Cerberus tongue. "Happy birthday, to me." Guiding the clustering color of wet earth to slant a glimpse at her, taking in a snapshot Kodak moment that he wanted to retain for as long as he possibly could. "Thank you." Lifting the gift to tilt it in a toast to her, his shoulders still trembling from how he found this primarily charming of the sylph girl. "So, who opens what first, then?" Like a child, for a second, he was giving a playful shake of the cloth bunched together by the satin ribbon she decorated it with.

He caught on. And it pleased her to hear his laugh again, even if it was colored with bemused charm. "It's your birthday. You get to open your present first, or tell me to open mine, or have us open them together. Such is your prerogative." Shae explained as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. "I have a lot of birthdays to catch up on for you, mind, so if you don't like it we can just say it was meant for a time when you were a different man. If I'd had some warning I would have gotten you some sort of cake or sweet. If you like you can blow out my lantern?" Gesturing to the source of light on the side of her desk. One of the sources, anyway. There were quite a few lit candlesticks scattered about.

"I'm going to go and be selfish. I'll open first, you open second." Designating certain plans for something so simple. She had a habit, good or bad, of bringing out a certain degree of his grins that were normally not this alive. One was fixed to his mouth and didn't seem to be dissolving any time soon. "I'll save you from having to light the lantern again." Though there had been a hesitation in his answer to that; he regarded the darkness to be intimate, and her to be the slow burn that might light up the night. Teeth grasped bottom lip till he found his thoughts on the parcel, slowly unraveling the ribbon as not to completely shred the cloth it was wrapped in.

The contents of the cloth wrapping could easily fit into his hand. Two objects there that both seemed deceptively plain. One was an iridescent crystal on a silver chain. The other was a thin leather bookmark into which a design of whorls had been etched. As he unwrapped the items, she was reaching for a nearby book. "One thing at a time. First, the bookmark is meant to hide things." Here she extended the novel in her hand to him. It was number four in a fictional series. "Whatever book you mark it with, even ones that are enchanted it alters. First, it hides the contents." If he placed the bookmark in the pages of the tome she passed his way it would read as something different. A book of tax law or something equally dull. "Secondly it hides its own nature. It is extremely difficult to detect as it cloaks not only the magic it holds but the magic of the book, should any exist. I thought it might serve you if you have any sensitive records."

Confusion wasn't what was written between the lines of his features. He was more appreciative that he was even on the receiving end of such gifts. The book she offered was used as a tool to investigate just how it would work, and almost word for word, it achieved it's goal. "This is ..." Loss for words, right off the bat, immediately letting his thoughts wander to the tomes and grimoires that he was secretly hiding beneath the boards of his room. "This is amazing, Shae." Looking up then, finding the copper fields of her eyes where the fools gold was enchanting enough to lighten the ochre of his easy stare. "And this?" Lifting the crystal that hung from the necklace, arching a brow to help emphasize his curiosity.

"Is a rare stone from the world I came from." Her answer a continuation to his question. "I'm not sure if you're familiar with the like, but they are called ioun stones. When attuned to a person they float about your person. Unless, that is, they are attached to some item to be worn or held. There are certain mages from my world called ioun angels because the blur from the stones rotating around them looks like a halo." Here a small smile. "Each of them does something different. This one...put it on." And if he did so, she followed up with another suggestion. "Now hold your breath."

"You seem to be spoiling me." His statement was in jest, though; he didn't mind the gifts at all. As instructed, after setting down the book and mark, lifting the necklace over his head to let the crystal lay a little lopsidedly across his chest. Brow still remained at an angle that would help prove his curiosity, giving her an odd look when she suggested holding his breath. Which he did. What came of it had him relatively shocked, studying the way his lungs didn't burst into a heatwave of needing to intake air, feeling like he was breathing on his own while still managing to not let any of it out. When he did, he laughed, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards. "I feel like these things outshine what I brought with me." Nudging the plain brown wrapping of the box towards her, one hand flexing around the crystal.

"I told you: I'm making up for birthdays from before time immemorial. It's not my birthday. You're not expected, then or now, to give me presents of any specific caliber." Hand waving off his statements with a smile. Simple joy evident in the fact that he delighted in what she had picked for him. Easy excitement for a clever thing gone to someone who might appreciate it. At his nudge, she picked up the box he had brought and transferred it to her lap. "My turn?" Asked as fingers were already tugging at the string that held the wrapping. She had restrained herself, but Shae's inquisitiveness could only be contained to a degree. Mystery packages were a weakness. See for reference: his mail.

Speaking of his mail, she may or may not have some in her possession. It had been weeks, after all, and the cubbies only had so much space.

His mail had looked suspiciously low when he had come back. He had a keen theory of just who had been keeping tabs on it. Later, he would be sure to thank her and make a humored tease out of her stalking through his letters, be they junk or not. At this moment he was more concerned with watching her cast all that sly curiosity to the package that felt only slightly weighted and clinked beyond the muffled stifling of tissue paper. He unwound the necklace from his neck, laying it carefully near the bookmark, both prized possession that he was now the curator for.

"Yes, your turn." Leaning back some, anchoring his foot across the top of that artificial knee to take a more lax pose in the chair. His sights set on watching everything about her, from the tiny bend of her cupid's bow mouth to the filigree treasure of her eyes. Once the package would have been carefully opened (he suspected she wouldn't be tearing into it), she would find a few things. The first being a set of gold washed bronze bracelets with carnelian stones, engravings old yet festive, large enough to cover the entire forearm. The next would be five vials, each packed with specific herbs that were native to the small Utopia he had visited on his travels. He would go into more detail about them after he had had his fill of her expressions.

He'd have been not far off the mark about how she unwrapped the package. With no notion of what was inside, she wasn't apt to rip and manhandle. When she at last got to the contents she was glad she hadn't "Oh." Both exhale and sound of appreciation for the gift that greeted her. Hopefully he wouldn't be terribly offended that her first attention fell to the vials. Rhy'Din had been a treasure trove of new and rare plants, but that particular thirst was a hard one to slake. The sylph sought labels and held each toward the light in turn.

Clearing his throat, settling forward more to help guide his gestures at the specific vials she was picking up. "These are all, ah, rare species of flora that grow where I was at. You won't find them here, or really, anywhere else. That one --", the one she held first, the label reading Annularia, was pointed at. "-- aids in relaxation. You only need a single pinch of it in your tea, coffee, whatever you might drink." Nothing special to it aside from the fact that it had been extinct since before the Permian period. "That is used as a salve, when paired with typical other herbs you might use for soothing burns, wounds to the skin." He wasn't oblivious; she always had a certain air about her that was rife with elements ranging in the herbal area. "Now, those three there." When she began to inspect the last three, one labeled Nilssonia, another Williamsonia, and the last Zamite, he stood to cross the distance, which wasn't much, to lean over her shoulder to look at them with her. "Are toxic if you use too much, so much so that they could probably end a dragon's life in twenty seconds or so." Using dragons as an example given where they were, not sure if saying blue whale or elephant would help. "But, used correctly, they can connect you to your ancestors. Spirits. Whatever you probably call them."

Brows rose in appreciation for the descriptions he gave, particularly the relaxant and salve ingredient. Both were quite useful to the practical minded female. Contours of sable took a quick dive to furrowed as he explained the final three. Confusion evident as she looked up at him (for seated on a desk she still had to look up). Gold flickered between the vials and then back to his face. "I don't understand. Are you suggesting they are shaman herbs? Hallucinogens? How am I to know the correct usage of them?" Shae might know more than her share of poison remedies but if these could kill a dragon with such haste she would have to proceed with extreme caution. Frankly, they were probably highly illegal at that potency, not that she would care about the law. She already possessed a few samples that would cause concern.

"No, not really." He could almost taste the frown nestling a long her brows without looking directly at her face. He reached to take one of the vials, gently, from her fingertips before it could be nestled back into the box. "Most things like that are just that: Hallucinogenic. These will put you in touch with them." Literally. Teeth combed back over his lip, now letting his attention be baited to slant at her. Even as she propped herself on the desk, he was taller. His shadow could have devoured her but it seemed to not loom, had no menacing quality to it. "I'll show you the correct usage of them." An offer to go a long during that journey with her. "I figured it might be helpful, someday, for you. To maybe ask questions to those that would know more about you than even you do, or anyone else for that matter." Reminded by her quizzical nature regarding her own pedigree, how she was salivating with questions for one in the Family but possibly rattled by what to ask in the first place. "I wouldn't let you do that on your own." Giving confirmation that this was not some sick game that he was acting out on, taunting her with some promise like that only to see if she would fail given the dosage. "If you want. If not, I'll take them back." He seemed unconcerned if she did decide to refuse the gesture he was giving her.

Fingers traced over the two that remained in her possession as she listened to him, frown easing to allow her lip to be trapped between her teeth. In touch with them, her mind swam with potential questions about who she might speak to and what she would ask of them. She distracted herself with a confession. "I asked John to speak with me, finally. A few days from now. But this...Ezra this is..." This was Shae at a loss for words. The gesture had overwhelmed her for a moment and she held those vials like they were the most valuable thing she had ever seen. "I want them." She said it last with a quiet, hoarse tremble to her voice.

"You did?" Surprise wasn't very vast across the sea of his features, no matter how close they seemed to near the shore of her own personal space. He spoke quietly, hushed enough to let the vibration from his murmur tremble over her skin. "I think that's a good start." With talking with John. He knew, if anything, that they would not be of the same coded creature creation, but at least she would have someone to understand. If only a little. Her admission to wanting the gifts made him crack the crescent grin out across his mouth, white skin of his teeth barely visible. "Good. I thought they might help." He reached inside the box to grasp at one of the long bracelets, light as air yet they looked heavy in their dazzle of old world fashion. "And these, they don't do anything but look good. Might be well paired with one of your belly dancing sessions." A brief arch of his brow to help imply some kind of playful banter.

Despite her habit of answering rhetorical questions as if they were nothing of the sort, Shae let that one go in favor of the time needed to regain her composure. It took a lot of effort to tuck those vials back into their places in the box. More effort still to suppress further shake from hands or breath. One. Each breath counted out in her head. Two. Outside, in the distance she could feel concern through the tie to her familiar. Three. Her hand shifted to the second bracelet to look it over. "They're very beautiful. I'm certain I could put them with a routine of some kind." There her smile had returned in full with a breezy laugh for his fashion advice. "Thank you, Ezra. This was very, very thoughtful of you."

Augury, part 2

That unfathomable characteristic was one she found herself considering when the moment permitted. For not the first time, Shae wondered if her mind held the strength to grasp his reality. His existence beyond history. Whether her own imaginations did any justice to him, or even if she'd be able to reconcile the form in front of her with the truth. His compliment, for she would take it as a compliment, earned him a smile smothered against her wine glass. One healthy sip later, she set the glass aside. "I'll see what I can do to spend time with John, though I am not sure what reasoning I could manufacture. Know anything that might draw him out of his haze aside from flirtations with pretty women? I don't have interests in that direction where he's concerned so I'm only left with breaking and entering for fun and profit."

"Funny, that. I think one of his most fond hobbies is breaking and entering for fun and profit." Layering in more amusement to help the coast become dry of the hurricane that swept over his mind. Shaking away the remains of a venture down that memory lane that was paved in blood and the madness of the medieval. Unearthing a chuckle till it went with the undertow of a drink from his beer. "And he does like flirting with pretty women, so just keep that in mind." Because Shae was not without her charms, otherworldly and not. Beauty and brilliance, a package tied together with the connective gold of her eyes, the smiles that she could birth which were as unsuspecting as the wind when it blew in. "Other things? He seems to enjoy the dueling venues now and again. You could always attempt a chat with Constance, his cousin, who is genuinely warm to everyone unless given a reason not to be. I know Gavin is here, too --", but he refrained from circulating into that realm; Asa was a bona fide piece to be skeptical of, and wherever one was, usually the other was close. "-- but I would suggest just befriending John. Easiest way given you already know him. Invite him out for drinks or any other recreational things." Another laugh that was checked into a slow gesture of tumbling rocks, distant thunder storms that never quite reached a destination.

"Will his mother think of me as a bad influence if I invite her son out for some casual larceny?" Drawled with the sort of tone that suggested she already knew the answer to that one. "He seems to have eyes for that dueling caller, but I don't know her all that well." Which meant Shae wouldn't have the first idea of how to leverage Peaches in her favor. "I have heard of Constance, but I don't think I've yet had the opportunity to meet her. The only other one I have met was the other Jon." Jon the reclusive one who spent so much time in his labs. Shae rubbed a hand over her lips and then picked up half a panini with which to attempt to coax her familiar into something resembling activity. She wasn't having much luck. "Anything else you think I should keep in mind regarding the matter of my solicitation of your Family for information? Subjects I should avoid? Things like that?"

"No, she'll think you're courting him." Another gust of laughter that didn't herald any gale force winds but helped to aid in a vocal balm to any discomfort she could have come in with. The uncertainty of her situation, and possibly something else, drawing invisible lines of worry through the canals of her eyes. He saw it but didn't remark. Not yet. "John has eyes for a lot of women, I'm sure." He knew well the traits of each beneath the umbrella of his protection, part of his instinct to nurture them as well as be prepared to deal with any of their issues. He was more than just the hellhound they set after their enemies. Fox caught his attention if only because she tried feeding him, and with no luck, Ezra reached over to gently urge thick fingers at the base of the creature's skull, behind one ear, careful to not overstay any welcoming he might get from it. Animals, great and small, tended to read a certain bio-rhythm that the Primordials had, possibly because most of them were descendents of the mythical guardians. "Just be yourself. They won't suddenly put a witch hunt out for you. Be honest of why you're interested, share with them the same things you have told me."

"That's not an impression I want to make with her, either!" Muttered around a bite of the food that Fox had refused. "I think he might have gotten that impression himself, at one point, by mistake. I can't think of many other reasons he'd make the effort to clarify that he could be 'just a friend'." Small snort of amusement died as Ezra reached out to touch her limp limbed, sulking familiar. "Ah." The smile fell. There was the other part of it. The part that laid those lines of concern in her face for him to read. "He'll be alright." Said with a firmness meant to convince herself just as much as Ezra. "That's the other matter I wanted to speak with you about. My guest, the one napping in my room? Her name is Mirini. She's from my plane." Not excitement, but naked worry. What for most might have been a happy reunion seemed to mean something else to Shae and her fuzzier half.

Her slideshow that was done with verbal prose, about John in particular, gave him enough of a reason to crack the attractive shell of his mouth into an effortless grin. It was a calling card, a signature expression, and it died all but too soon when she carried on. His hand groomed in around the neck of Fox before fleeing the scene, unwilling to become an annoyance for the tired looking creature. "And this is bad for Fox, and you --?" Trailing off because he didn't completely understand, wanting her to give more so that he could dismantle it, if possible, and help where he could. Studying her from the darker shade of the corner where the light barely registered them both, making them appear softer through the dim essence of it.

?It?s hard to say for sure, but it?s certainly alarming. From what I?ve managed to piece together of her story, she came here with assistance.? Neglecting to mention that the assistance was Fae in origin was a deliberate omission, she still couldn?t fathom what it implied. Fox registered the pass of Ezra?s hand with a lift of his eyes, and only that. ?I thought my coming here was a fluke. An arcane accident that had much to do with the pull of this place and the chaotic convergence of spells. In short, something that would be near impossible to replicate. It gave me a sense of peace. There are warmongers, flesh harvesters-- people who shouldn?t have the expanse of a second realm to sow chaos in. But if she is here...? Trailing off, Shae forced a smile. ?I suppose I just wanted to let someone know, just in case.? In case of what, she wasn?t yet sure.