[Palenski]

"Avida..." he mumbled her name as he scribbled it in his book. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that it took a moment for him to register her question. He glanced up nervously. "Not...strictly speaking. They're all interesting people. I just sort of...keep tabs. They're friends."

He was not used to being nervous. He always made other people nervous, and that's how he liked it because it meant he could get any information he wanted with little effort. The last person to make him nervous was a green-skinned alien who thought he was very funny. That had been a very odd day.

"I won't keep tabs on you, if you prefer," he added quickly. "I promise."

[Indigo]

"You keep tabs on your friends? Why, what do you think they're going to do?" After all, why track someone if you didn't expect them to do something suspicious? They couldn't be very good friends, if he didn't trust them. Not that it was at all easy to find people you could trust enough to call friends, but then why bother pretending? He was certainly very strange.

"Well," she said, "since I've given you my first name, I think you owe me yours." No full names, so they wouldn't be able to track each other down—her name wasn't terribly common, but it would be harder to find her without more information. Nothing personal, since this guy wasn't worth that much thought, but it paid to be careful.

"What are you doing here, anyway? Besides stalking me."

[Palenski]

Well, she wasn't quite as hostile anymore. That was an improvement. He cleared his throat again, stood up straighter, and said, "My name is Jack. I keep tabs because they continue to be interesting after we part ways."

It was true. When he found someone that interested him, he liked to see how they had changed sometime later on. Had they become more interesting, less interesting? Were they an asset? Sometimes he met someone who needed a certain something, a certain kind of magic or specialty, and he could send them in the direction of one of his friends, who often had special skills.

"I happen to be here in Nabias because...well...I travel around, looking for antiques. I like old things, I like history. I just stopped here for coffee."

He didn't deny stalking her. Really, he had been. But not anymore, at least not in his mind. As soon as she confronted him, it was no longer stalking. It was his own logic, and he didn't really care if it made sense.

[Indigo]

He didn't deny he'd been stalking her. That probably meant something, but she wasn't sure what. "What, and your friends don't object to your watching them all the time? You must not have very many." Not for very long, anyway. She wasn't sure why she was still talking to this idiot, except that she had a sneaking suspicion that if she tried to leave he would follow her again. Then she would have to deliver a beating, and neither of them would be very happy, though he would certainly be the one who came out of it worse. She glanced at the other side of the street briefly to make sure they weren't being watched. Didn't want anyone to see her with this loser.

"So what about me is so interesting?" Of course, she was interesting. She was well aware of that. Rich, commanding, and periodically going down to fight with the big underworld names—what could be more intriguing than that? There were a lot of interesting rumors about Gallagher, too, which she found funny; how stupid the lower classes were. He was just a baker, that was the reason he existed. Why would she have him do anything more? And they had no idea how foolish they were being.

Anyway, she knew she was interesting, yes. But Jack clearly had no idea who she was, hadn't recognized her markings or first name, so he wouldn't know all the other things about her. So what could have gotten his attention?

Well, besides her beating up a drunk, of course.

[Palenski]

He squirmed a little at her interrogation. He wasn't used to being asked the questions. "I don't really watch them all the time, I just sort of call on them once in a while. Like...checking in." He shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Some of them are magical, and the rest are just...fascinating. Sometimes they have valuable skills."

He made a couple absentminded notes in his book. "You are interesting...because you are ruthless." He paused. "Originally I was just going to see how the confrontation would play out. But then you waited for him to make the first move, which I thought was smart. And then you just scared him. Which I thought was merciful. And...I liked your staff."

He eyed it again. He wondered what kind wood it was made out of.

[Indigo]

She didn't take much pleasure in making him uncomfortable; it was the same kind of squirming she sometimes got from servants when she asked them to do something they'd prefer not to, and just made her irritated. It wasn't as if she had asked him to recount his life story.

"I see." Fascinating, with valuable skills—so he was someone who used people, then. Probably he didn't care too much how they felt about the things he wanted them to do, as long as they did them, and he thought of them more as subjects of study than people. Well, that was what it sounded like. She could respect that, since she treated people that way most of the time, though they weren't study subjects to her, but the other kind of subjects. As long as he didn't try treating her that way, they might get along okay.

Ruthless, she liked that. She wondered if she could work that into her underworld reputation somehow; Avida the ruthless, don't challenge her unless you really mean it, because she won't let you get off easy. She was too busy thinking about that to notice Jack making notes. Lucky for him.

Merciful? How could she be merciful and ruthless at the same time? He was right, though. "Well, he was drunk and he was a creep. Annoying but not the worst type I've ever encountered, and now he's learned his lesson. Unlike you. You're still here." Idiot.

She noticed him looking at the staff and rolled it a little closer to her, in case he decided to grab it; she didn't like him, any more than she liked anyone, but she didn't want to have to tear his arm open. Besides the hassle, he was fairly innocent and probably didn't deserve quite that much pain. "What's so interesting about my staff?"

[Palenski]

Ah. Now they were getting onto more comfortable grounds of conversation. "Is it old?" he asked. "I like antiques. If it had history to it, or some kind of magical power, that would be good to take note of." He tapped his pencil against his little book.

Jack, you could say, was a collector of interesting people. He wouldn't keep them, of course, because he wasn't actually insane. But whenever he found someone who was odd in some way, or whenever he found someone who was magical or outspoken, he would get their name, information, like a sort of history keeper. Leaving behind evidence of the existence of someone who caught his interest. It was almost a project of his.

And he would very much like to include this lucain, Avida, in his records.

[Indigo]

She raised her eyebrows. "Of course it's not an antique. What kind of idiot uses an antique anything to hit people with? It's not historic and it doesn't have any magical powers. It's just a staff. It doesn't even have anything interesting carved into it—see?" She rolled the staff around a little to demonstrate. Its surface was completely smooth except for a few tooth marks, and an almost imperceptible line where it had broken once and been fixed. "I had it made so I could fight with it, and that's what it's designed for."

Interesting that he liked antiques. Maybe he wasn't as unrefined as she had thought. Of course, he could still be dirt-common, but she had rarely encountered such people who had an appreciation for that kind of thing. And if he was somehow low-class, perhaps he aspired higher; ambition was acceptable in moderate amounts.

[Palenski]

"Hmm." He made another couple quick notes. "So you fight? What does that mean? Like, club fighting?"

Fighting was not usually his thing. He preferred talent, magic, interesting skills. Artistic and creative things. But he already had her name in his book, and she was still very interesting, so his curiosity persisted. She was obviously very good in combat, very aggressive, and very smart, strategic. Perhaps she had other skills, too, that he just didn't know about.

Avida the fighter. He had some friends that would like her, too.

[Indigo]

At this point, she supposed she might as well keep answering his questions. He was a little bit off, sure, but he seemed pretty harmless, and he wasn't likely to track her down. And if he did, by some strange chance, then she could always get her servants to send him away. Tell him there had been a misunderstanding, because otherwise how could he have thought himself welcome? But she'd worry about that later.

"Yes, I suppose you could call it club fighting. It's not technically illegal, but the authorities would have a field day if they found out where we were, so you'd better not tell anyone." Not that she'd given him that much information, but perhaps some of his "friends" would know about it, and then there could be trouble. "I have a formidable reputation, as I should."

Hold on, what was he doing? Was he writing in that stupid book again? He'd admitted to stalking her, so she shouldn't be surprised, but even so. He could find her that way.

Still making notes. Idiot.

She invaded his space in one smooth movement, too fast for most eyes to follow, teeth bared in a snarl, claws at the ready. She was even closer this time than she had been when she'd threatened him before, and she stared directly into his eyes, watching for fear. "You had better put that stupid pencil down right now or things will go badly for you," she spat. "And trust me when I say I'll enjoy it a lot more than the rest of our conversation."

[Palenski]

A shock ran through him, freezing him in place for one hot moment. He gulped, nearly dropped his pencil, not enjoying the stench of blood that wafted over him. He gasped, but with the way he was standing, tense and still like a statue, it stuttered down his throat like a croak.

And then, as instinct began kicking in, he took a step back.

"Excuse you," he suddenly said, frowning. "I understand that I might have been a bit demanding with my questions but is that kind of behavior really necessary?"

He snapped the book shut, shoved it away in his pocket and followed it with the pencil. "My apologies if I upset you," he said tersely, stepping further away. "No need for violence."

[Indigo]

She matched him step for step, eyes never wavering. The bluster she hadn't expected, and it threw her off a little, but she'd seen that moment of fear in his face and was quite prepared to provoke it again. "And for a moment there I had begun to think you might have a brain. I'm about to tear out your throat and you're concerned that I'm overreacting? Stupid and rude is a terrible combination. And unattractive, not that you were winning any prizes."

But when he apologized, she stepped back. Oh, she was still seething--how much information had he managed to get down before she'd noticed? What could he use it for?--but it was probably best to handle this in a less direct way. The apology was hardly worth anything from someone like him, probably of bad breeding and definitely not anyone of importance, but she had already stayed out longer than she'd meant to, and Gallagher was bound to start worrying soon.

She didn't say anything, just watched him coldly.

[I'm still getting used to her character; don't judge my inconsistency.]

[Palenski]

Jack could take a lot.

There had been several occasions when he had been called names, and some nasty ones at that, but he had become skilled at ignoring insults in the name of curiosity. Some of his friends still had a certain dislike for him, but that was fine. He had their information, their "legacy" if you could call it that, and that was enough to satisfy him.

But now, not only was he being called stupid, rude, and unattractive when he knew for a fact that at least two of those weren't true (he was often a bit rude), he was also being horribly threatened. And he could only take so much threatening before he stopped being nice.

He ran a hand through his hair and realized that his hand was trembling slightly, that there were small tufts of fur growing on the backs of his fingers. He hadn't consciously made the decision; it had probably been the adrenaline rush. But he supposed it wasn't a bad idea to be on fairer grounds.

"My apologies," he said once more, voice quiet. His bones ached, stomach churning. The transition was never fun.

[Indigo]

She wasn't standing quite so close to him anymore anyway, but now Avida jumped back, and watched the change with a mixture of horror and disgust. Definitely muck-common, one of those who decided they needed to masquerade as a human all the time--not an attitude she had ever understood. Wasn't it better to show off your heritage, markings and colors that served to indicate in a small way what your background was? Who wouldn't want to show their breeding? But she supposed there was no accounting for taste.

He was nicer to look at in this form, at least. Though she could have done with less orange. But the hideous suit was gone.

And now her demeanor changed, a little--she almost smiled, and she relaxed a little, tails no longer lashing in anger. Because wasn't it better to be talking to another Lucain, knowing he was one? She was on fairly good terms with some humans, especially now that there were so many of them around, but to be honest they made her a little uncomfortable sometimes. Something about how superior some of them acted. A Lucain who turned human was okay in that shape as long as she was aware, and now that she knew, she wasn't quite as on edge.

"Well," she said. "This is an interesting development. Got any more tricks up your sleeve? Not that you have sleeves anymore."

[Palenski]

Sight suddenly sharper, hearing clear as a bell. Jack shook his head, felt the ripple of fur all over him. It was disorienting, changing from one beast to another. But he felt good, in a powerful and alive sort of way. Honestly he preferred it this way, with the teeth and the natural warmth of his coat and the way his nails clicked against the ground. But it was easier to write with his hands, and he couldn't really get to his pockets when they suddenly existed, temporarily, on another plane of existence.

"Was this necessary," he mumbled, almost more to himself than to the seemingly amused lucain in front of him. He sneezed violently at the sudden barrage of smells attacking his nose. He screwed his eyes shut, giving himself a moment to settle into his body. After a while, he opened one eye to peer at her.