Gal's Place (Open RP)

Satanz was confused. He'd been yelled at, spit on, and had people try to intimidate him since he's been in Paragon. He's been misunderstood, forced to the shadows, and generally looked down on. And who could blame them, he's an imp, they're short.

This was new. Ever since Christmas, the incident with the tree, he'd felt things were different. He'd regained less than half his strength from that night, but already he was dangerous. Unknown, but dangerous. To be treated like this, well, there must be some mistake.

She did say something about a disguise or an alternate form. And she called him small master. Hrm.

Satanz waited patiently for his food, careful to smile at anyone who's eyes met his.

((OOC: Funny you should mention the alt+tabbing Asuryan. Ive started doing the same thing. This thread is addicting! ))

((OOC: Not giving in...must get Sibling to 36 today....no time to post...))

"I didn't mean any disrespect, I was just sayin' that you were always outnumbered but still managed to put a beatdown on the thugs you fought." he said to Isis apologetically.

"As for my favorite film of yours....that's a tough one. If I had to pick, it'd have to be Ebony Heights. That fight scene with you and Dilemma was one of the best examples of real street fightin' in modern cinema. I heard you and the actress both had broken ribs from that one. They all say how actors these days are going out on a limb doing their own stunts...but back during your day, you had to. I heard the budgets of your films weren't much by todays standards. You'd be a big hit if you tried a comeback film." He kind of slowed when he realized he had mentioned "back in her day". He hoped she wouldn't take offense at it, he meant it well.

"Thank you for sayin' that about my momma. She thought your movies were good...but she hated me watchin' any violence. "Marcus...look around you, there are real people getting kicked in the street for a nickel...and you want to watch that stuff?" she said to me one Saturday afternoon while I was glued to the tv. "Go on...but don't you ever think you can lay a hand on a woman like those thugs in that movie are doing. You hear!?!" he chuckled, remebering her words of wisdom.

"Isis, would you like to come down to the gym one day and talk to the local kids? It would be good for some of the lil' girls and boys to see a strong woman such as yourself doing good for the community. I'd pay ya' for your time, of course."
he asked.

Isis blushes and looks away, "That fight scene... what they don' say, an' most don' know is that we had a bit of a rivalry. In a movie, you're not really supposed to hit the other person. The cameras are set up so you come close but miss but it -looks- like you hit. Well, she said a few things about my fightin an' I said a few things back, off camera, an' when it came time t'do that scene... well, let's just say none of that is make-up an' it only took one take when the director realised what was goin on." she shakes her head, "I can't believe how stupid I was back then. I also wish I had the healin I have now. As for a comeback... I don' know. I thought about it but I think the age of Sistahs fightin to clean the streets of crime are over. These days it's all special affects and what not. I don' think I could compete... or keep up.

I'd love to come an' talk to the kids, but you don' have t' pay me." she grins, "I might notta been payed as much as actors these days but I was smart an' put it all away. I really don' need money much. Except for food. I could probably eat twice as much as you and still look how I do now. Jus' tell me a place an' time an' I'll be there. Though, I don' know what you'd have me talk about."

Setting her drink down on the table. Wendy watched the Imp being led to his table. She found it a bit odd and disconcerting to see such a creature in the restaurant, but decided she wasn't one to decide who they should and should not serve. After watching it take its seat she looked away quickly as it glared and bared its teeth at her. Turning her attention back to Alex she requested, "Tell me more about how you gained your powers Alex."

Alex glanced back at Wendy realizing he was being spoken to. He had been watching Gypsy wander around the room. "Ah my powers, well that story is a bit longer and you've told me nothing about you except that you are stronger than me. Fair is fair, spill it woman." he glanced around again and saw Gypsy talking to the Imp. "Humpf, I guess I pissed her off too."

"He might just be a regular or perhaps a VIP you never know." Wendy watched Alex's face. He seemed very interested in the woman, or maybe her ability to bring him drink. She couldn't tell with him. "So you were saying about your powers." she tried again to get him to tell her.

Alex turned back to Wendy again, "Yeah my powers... no, you were gonna tell me about yours. Or something about you. How did you end up in Paragon? Where ya from?" He picked up his beer to take a sip and realising it was empty put it back down again.

"Alright, my turn." Wendy finally conceeded. "I came here about the same time you did, about a week ago, to fight evil and all that good stuff. Mainly though I came to see what the Rikti have done to Paragon first hand. I mean you see the pictures and stuff, but up close it looks extremely different. There is also a creature I believe called Hamidon I want to get a look at, but they won't let you go near until you reach a certain Security level. That's why I'm here. Well that and Portal Corp. They helped a lot." Wendy finished taking a sip of her cosmo and waited patiently for the obvious questions from Alex.

"Yeah, them aliens were rough on a lot of places, but they sure tore this town up. Never heard of the Hameton thing you mentioned. Sounds interesting though, must be one tough creature." He leaned back and gave her a level look. "Now I personally don't like Portal Corp, don't think we should be messing with other worlds and the like, but I'm glad they helped you out. Ya still haven't answered where ya came from." He was getting a sinking feeling in his stomach as he waited for her reply.

Wendy looked him over and seriously contemplated lieing to him. He might not take her answer very well. It didn't seem like he would take it very well at all. She needed him to trust her though. She needed him to rely on her. She would get it one way or another, now she just had to tell the truth. "I came from another planet in an alternate dimension." Wendy stated only loud enough for Alex to hear.

"What?!" Alex replied for almost everyone to hear.

"Shhhh." Wendy held up a finger to her lips. "I'm trusting you with this. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't pass it on to everyone here. Now hear me out." She waited until Alex showed that he was calm enough to listen to her. "Ok, Portal Corp. opened a portal to an alternate dimension Earth. Now I was born on a planet called Adelphe, and our star name is Aster, known as Centauri A in this dimension. You see there was a world war on Earth that left the planet pretty much uninhabitable so most of the people who survived went to Adelphe to join the rest of the human race that had already colonized there. Some of us stayed and worked the land trying to make it livable again." She took a moment to sip her Cosmo and gauge the reaction from Alex. He seemed to be taking it ok, but it was hard to tell. He had a really good poker face. "So when a portal openned in the middle of our domicile we took the opportunity to get to know the travelers. That is when I learned of the Rikti invasion. It is good to know of a potential enemy. And that Alex, is where I'm from." Deciding to stop while she was ahead, Wendy lifted her cosmo and sucked it down half way. She was pretty sure Alex would have a number of questions and she did not feel like answering any of them right now.

((OOC: Ok, I'm not posting again until Gypsy takes there order because I really want a break in conversation right now. It seems like 15 minutes or more. Um... Sibling I don't get to play the game right now, and I want to know more about the other conversations going on, so log and type. Luckly I got Isis Jones and Sweet having a great dialog.))

((OOC: Curse you and your begging! LOL. Seriously, you have all appealed to my more base emotions, pride and ego, which will motivate me every time. So, after posting my new Ladies Thread, getting Sibling within one bubble of 36 and NOT sleeping, thank you, here is my catch up.))

((To Falcon))

Steve was flattered, all the wonder of this new world and Miss Falcon wanted to hear about his home? He considered where to start...

"Miss Falcon, mah' life was none to interestin', until the end anyhow. My father, 'e was a gen'lman with land an' some wherewi'all in Irelan', wha' got a business proposal from a man in America. A' tha' time, was a wild an' new place, an' many o' my people were travelin' 'ere. There was work, an' things an Irishman could do.

"E' lef' mah mother ta' see after the home, an had many a good man wi' 'em when he came." Steve felt a sudden loss, realizing that he had not even a photo of his family, nothing from his time except what had been buried with his remains and restored by Azuria.

"Tha's how I know Martin. His father, many times over, was one o' my father's men, a true gen'lman's butler. I was but a pup when we came, stepped off a ship righ' in New York. Then, there were no tall buildings, ha'nt e'en put up the Great Lady in tha' harbor." He paused, unsure if that had endured.

"Do ye know of tha' Great Lady, Liberty? Does she still watch o'er tha' harbor?"

Steve motioned to their almost empty glasses, "Miss Falcon, can I do ya' the honor o' another drink?"

((To Manion))

Beth rode through the crowds on a little cloud of delight. Her smile was beaming, her step light for all the work she had already done. THAT was a man. How he could ignore Gertrude or Gypsy, she didn't know, but if he really was around to walk her home...

"So, Manion," she seemed awkward using his name, "was dinner ok? Gypsy is pretty proud of her recipe, even stood over Gal when she was making it."

((To Basilisk))

"Sir," Martin said, turning towards him. His hesitation was almost imperceptable, a man used to dealing with the impossible in a totally dismissive way. "I applaud your fine taste, and the purveyor of the cigars, one Tuck and Sole of Founder's Falls, sends their compliments as well."

He made a flourish of placing the box on a nearby table, and from somewhere about his person he draw a long, thin bladed knife. Carefully, skillfully slicing the tobacco stamp and seal, he lifted the lid of the expensive box to reveal long rows of neat cigars.

"Sir, I present to you, the one box of Partagas Number Four Specials, in Paragon City." The aroma of tea and chocolate, intemixed with leaf tobacco, emanated. Martin allowed his guest to choose from the box, not presuming to leave so important a decision to himself. He held a gold and silver cutter with his free hand.

((To Magnus))

Gypsy caught sight of the bloody hero before he entered the restaurant, her powers giving her a slight edge where blood was present. The small imp was waiting for food, but fresh blood was not welcome. Beth was occupied as well, she passed the front.

"Mister, your dress looks like fighting. Please to the toilet, to clean your face. I make a place for you at the bar, please." She showed him to the bathrooms, not at all put off by his appearance.

((For Satanz))

Gypsy brought a bowl of the ratatouille, and a large portion of thick bread, knowing that some of the older races could eat enough besides their diminutive size. She guessed that he might want some beverage, and brought both a pitcher of water and a large glass of Czech Beer.

Not knowing his precise race, she could only hope to accomodate the imp, trying not to offend.

"Little Master, will this suffice?"

((To Alex and crew))

"I beg your pardon, Sir, ma'am," Beth said, returning from another table, her face flushed and smiling. "Can I get you refills? And have you decided on dinner?"

((OOC: There ))

"Ok? Wow it was more than ok. That was absolutely delicious. My compliments to Gypsy." He made a show of rubbing his stomach.

"Now about dessert... I'd like to order, but I need to ask a question of Gal first, as soon as she has a moment. Once thats done though, I'd be happy to look at the menu. Just out of curiosity though, what would you recommend?"

He couldnt help but grin. He wasn't quite ready to spring his idea yet. First he felt he should clear it through Gal to make sure he didn't overstep his bounds.

((OOC: Go get some sleep! Goodness, how some people do it I'll never know. <shakes his head> ))

"The Great Lady?" Falcon thought about it for a second "The Liberty statue you mean? Yes, it is still there. It's the symbol of the city of New York. One of the symbols of the city, at least."

She nodded toward the engineer, hair waving "Thanks, I would greatly appreciate another one."
3 Chimays weren't enough to take their toll on her, the bottles were little, and a single liter of beer was something she could drink without any problems.

"I don't know if a hundred years ago there were already airplanes. Those are giant machines, able to fly from america to europe and even farther, resembling in shape a dragonfly, and they can carry with them lots of passengers."
She looked at him smiling, her eyes shining from the beer and the aura.
"Engineers nowadays are in control of airplanes, as you were in control of a locomotive. The gist of it hasn't changed, what has changed is just the appearance. The only real difference is that an airplane sails through the skies, and a locomotive rides on the land."
She ignored all other differences, like fuel, aerodynamics and the rest. As she had said to Steve, those were only details.

"Lots of things that existed a hundred years ago still exist to this day, but under a different name and shape. Your watch, for instance - people are now using smaller watches, tied to bracelets for quickness of use, and call them wristwatches. Or guns: guns today can shoot faster, bigger bullets, with more accuracy, than the ones yesterday.
Their purpose however remains the same: killing."

She paused, waiting for his reaction. She felt relaxed, and was enjoying the evening with Steve. Her right hand touched slightly her cape, to adjust it on the back of the chair.

"Little Master, will this suffice?"

Satanz looked at the table without expression. "Wow all this ratatouille?" He looked up at her and smiled. "Thank Gypsy."

With that he picked up a fork and awkwardly took a bite. For him, eating was pure experience. All the food was converted to dark energy anyway, if he had the power to do it. Just looking at the setting he was going to be one tired imp, heavy with dark energy when he was done.

"This tasty. Very mortal. Very warm." He tried the bread and the beer. He'd had his share of Czech beer from Riley's fridge, which is to say he had become quite used to the taste. It was familiar to him.

"Just like home." Having no idea whatsoever that he was probably purpetuating the misunderstanding, he beamed a sharp toothed smile and his face responded well, for the first time since he had tried to smile in Paragon.

Beth advised the bread pudding, with vanilla sauce, as one of Gal's home-town desserts.

Gal stopped by his table on her way back to the Grill, it looked like Thang and Isis were doing ok, but Vegas couldn't handle a grill long.

"You. You ain't gonna try ta' pay again? I sent Gypsy over with instructions, and you can trust me on it, she can knock you inta' next week." She smiled at the look on his young face, "was only kiddin'. How can I help?"

Basilisk carefully selected a cigar from the box, took a second to appreciate the scent of it, then held it out for Martin to clip the end. With the cigar properly readied, he headed off to enjoy the cigar in the smoking section, calling back to Martin, "Care to have one with me? It's not proper to take one of these without having someone to enjoy it with, and you look like the kind of man who appreciates a good smoke."

((OOC: Sorry about the distractions, Sibling, but you know how it is: you gotta post when you can. Grats on (almost) 36!))

"Killin'," he saw her stare, maybe trying to gauge his reaction. She probably had heard what a rough place the railroad could be, maybe thinking he was that way.

"I never was much one for tha'. Seen my share o' the dead..." he shivered, despite the steam from his lips. Some things did not bear speaking of, and especially not in front of a lady. "Won't do to speak o' tha' here," he finished quietly, almost without thought.

"Birds with steel wings? Why? I ha' seen the tram, an' it's a sight faster than most trains o' my day, but e'en a roundhouse steamer can outrun a bird, wi' a full head o' steam. Seems like a bird would be less comfortable than a good Pullman car, wha' wi' a good dining and sleeper."

He was curious now, not having seen these flying things. The idea didn;t appeal, the thought of being so far above the ground...

"An if the engineers are like my day, well..." he trailed off, unable to meet her eyes. He was the most famous accident for engineers.

"Erm," he cleared his throat, hoping he hadn't walked into deep waters. Gertrude was quick with the drinks, and he made a show of paying attention to his.

Gypsy could see something of satisfaction in the imp. She could only imagine his feelings, but she had been told they did have them. Being swept from your home, and planted somewhere else, this she could understand, and to her knowledge, no Imp existed on the mortal plane by choice.

"It pleases you, very well. I shall return." She saw the toothy smile, and it did not seem to have malice in it. She did not return it. To consort with Imps, or appear to think you their equal, that was fatal. She could respect this creature, as she would any, but was wary of being seen as too familiar.

The dishes were beginning to pile on the grill, and patrons awaited their meals. It looked as though the mohawked one and the woman desired her attention.

"Sir," Martin actually looked put out, but only for a moment. "I am neither the station nor the leisure to accept your offer. I do, indeed, appreciate a fine cigar, but you are too kind."

Being invited to participate in such an indulgence was very unusual, and Martin chalked it up to these American ways. Asking your butler to smoke with you? Unheard of in the halls of Britain, and yet...

"I do not even know your name, sir." Martin took a few steps, the box held open in one hand while the other withdrew a long wooden match from an inside pocket. He was never without the proper item, for any occassion.

((No apologies, we all do it. ))

"No m'am, well... I may have left another tip, but I wasn't gonna pay, promise. And I trust what you say about Gypsy, believe me."

Her smile came back, and so did his.

"I've got a few questions if you have the time actually. First, I heard about the work you do at the Mission, and I'd like to help. I think it would do me some good to be a different kind of hero every now and then. I know it seems all of a sudden and maybe a bit suspicious, but honestly, I hadnt looked at it quite like this til now."

"Second, I was wondering if I could hang out here for a bit after you closed." he looked and the table and blushed a little. "I told Beth I would walk her home tonight. She says her shift ends at one and Id like to wait for her."

"And last... if it isnt too much... well..." He decided it wouldnt hurt, and there was no use beating around the bush. "I asked her ealier if she'd like to sit and talk with me. I knew she couldn't because she was busy, but I thought Id make the offer anyway 'cause shes nice, and well..."

"What I mean to ask is if we might be able to sit here a bit after she got off the clock. I was gonna ask her to join me for a dessert. I haven't yet, not until I heard from you. I know you all have families to get to, and I dont want to keep anyone here later than they need, so I won't be dissappointed if you say no. I'll just order the dessert now, and I can still walk her home."

He searched her face for any kind of reaction. He felt like he was talking to her mother, and was worried he might be going a little too far.

Falcon thought a second. She had noticed that her guest had become much more tense. Perhaps his memories; had her talking about killing remembered him about his accident?
She mentally reprimanded herself, she had been blunt.

"No, engineers nowadays are not like you." she said with a firm tone, completely convinced of what she was about to say "They are neither as pleasant to dine with, nor as chivalrous, nor as brave as you are. It would be a true blessing if they all were like you."
She smiled, hoping that she had settled the matter.

"Airplanes are much quicker than ships or trains. I used one to travel from Sweden to America, and it only took it 8 hours to arrive here in Paragon City. However, people travel inside the airplane, as people travel inside trains. There are comfy chairs, kind ladies serving you drinks and food, all in all it's a pleasant experience."

Her smile became almost dreamy.
"But it's nothing compared to flying without machines, as real birds do."
Then she focused her stare on Steve again, and she straightened her back as her idea came out of her lips before she could stop it.
"Would you like to try it?"

[OOC Falcon does have group fly, and would like to offer Steve a fly by two after dinner. ]

Gal gave him a long look. She'd been on the wrong side of many things, and had plenty of people try to take advantage of her, but you grew up fast and tough in East St. Louis, or you didn't grow up.

"You wanna come to the Mission, that's your business. I'd be glad to have you, and it might make me trust you just a little, which would be a rare thing for a man. You got an eye for Beth, you have to take that up with her, but I could let her sit a spell with you. She's done far enough work tonight." She held out one enormous hand and picked up a crystal salt cellar from the table, solid crystal.

"I do have a care for her though, and you mess with my Beth..." she squeezed the heavy ball of crystal, and her hand became rock. The tiara she wore, mostly hidden, lit up for a moment and there was a sharp sound, followed by shining dust falling from that hand.

"Now," she said, wiping her undamaged hand on a towel from her apron, "I'll go get Beth, she deserves a break about now."

Manion saw her white teeth in a smile as she left, heading for the grill.

"Ya flatter me ag'in, Miss Falcon. I was nothing but a trainmaster, a man who threw levers and wheels for a livin'. Nothin' a' all special abou' me.

"Fine lady like yourself," he held out one hand toward her, "pardon Miss Falcon, but a lady you are, could well do better than a coal breather. Ya' ha' been more than generous, but ya must know, I am so far apart from this time, 'tis a rough thing makin' cross the city. 'Twould be like keepin' a jewel in a pine box, you bein' seen wi' the likes o' me."

"Fly," he suddenly said, as though it just occurred. "I kinna' fly, but I fall right well." This seemed to raise his spirits, gallows humor. "Aye, I suppose when I ha' the chance, maybe I'll try tha'."

His eyes never left her face. *She could be a wild bird, fierce and beautiful, unfettered,* he thought.

((OOC: Pretend that he doesn't understand she is asking if he wants to fly, with her powers, but by a plane.))

Falcon's smile became a little sad, then disappeared.
"It doesn't matter to me if you are a trainsmaster or the son of a king, I don't judge a man by how much blue is his blood, but by his actions."

She made a little gesture with her gloved hand, as to encompass not only the bar, but the city itself.
"I don't know if it is because I'm not american. I don't know if it is because I always bring with me a sword so heavy that an untrained man would have problems lifting. I don't know if it's because I don't often visit the places associated with meeting people, like rave parties, cinemas, discos, pubs, and so on. Perhaps a bit of everything. But I often have the feeling that normal people feel too much respect for a heroine without a secret identity, as I am, to even think about a relationship, be it friendship or love. And heroes..."
She shrugged, her pointy golden shoulderpads followed her move.
"Most of them are just running around, searching for criminals. It's like they thought that it's all there is in life. Everything else doesn't matter, their eyes are set on evildoers, not on women from other countries. I can't blame them: there are so many criminals in this city that it almost seems that every moment without fighting is a wasted moment."

No matter the reason, I am alone, she thought. Like the falcon, hunting alone, living alone, so different from seagulls living in flocks. Perhaps when she had chosen her battle name she unconsciously had thought not only to the pride of the noble bird, not only to the elegance of its flight, not only to its quickness and deadly accuracy, but also to its loneliness.
She mentally reprimanded herself again: what if Steve would've thought her whiny? Damn. This dating thing was harder than they made it sound.

"I'll give you that chance. When we'll end dining, and talking of course, I'll take you with me for a flight. I'm sure you will like it." she pictured Steve flying for his first time, and smiled again...

Now he'd done it, he said to himself. A lovely woman had wanted to spend some time having a bite to eat and in some gentle conversation, and he'd managed to make it morose. It had been a long time since he's had the company of someone other than a magician or in training.

"'Twould seem ta' me," he said, trying to lighten his voice, "tha' a man tha' always looks for trouble is bound ta' find it. If heroes canna' spend a moment in bein' people, lettin' their belt out, as t'were, why bother?" He pointed towards the rear of the bar, where a large, scaled man was speaking to Martin.

"There, ye' see tha' man wi' Martin? Him an' his kin there, they been playin' billiards for some time, an him enjoyin' a cigar. Or the lass what was wi' Miss Narshawn, just havin' a talk. If they are'n heroes, they got powers right enough, an' they can come 'ere an' spend a moment. Tha's wha' I mean."

He looked around the room, and was impressed by how many had come in. No heroes in his day, at least none that could fly and shatter mountains, in that some things had changed. What hadn't, from all he had seen in his two short weeks, was enough to make him feel some connection to this time.

There were still people that cared, earnestly cared for others. Some were willing to put themselves between harm and loved ones. Dedication and duty, which he had seen many times in even the frailest people. A man and a woman could pause and share a quiet evening, strangers before, but perhaps occassional acquaintances now. He would have blushed, but his skin was already as red as it could be.

"I'd say nay, Miss Falcon. A man tha' would pass an opportunity ta' sit wi' a fine lady and talk abou' things such as this, tha' would be a wasted moment. I'd na' turn it down, an' I know somethin' o' long loneliness," his voice seemed to come from somewhere else for a moment, "a hundred years o' loneliness."

When he looked up again, he smiled with his eyes and mouth. "I'd na' like ta' rush things, but if I don' ask, I'll be shamed on the 'morrow. Would ya' care ta' properly dine wi' me? I mean in tha' proper Restaurant, in proper clothes?" He made a motion to what he wore, the denim and boots. "Ye're all the nicest, but I would feel honored if ya' would thin' on it, when I can be properly dressed an' do ya' justice."

Steve was considering the idea of flight, but perhaps more than a single flight. He watched her face with just a little trepidation, still not believing she had no other rooms of men waiting for just a moment of her time.

"That went better than I expected." he said to himself as he brushed the dust off the table into his empty bowl.

He had no intention of "messing with Beth", as she had put it. But he had seen something in her eyes, like a mother bear protecting her cub, that told him he needed to be extra careful. That and the crystal thing, that was a pretty solid hint too.

He wasn't worried though, he would be happy enough just getting to talk with her for a bit. The thought of anything past that hadn't honestly entered his head until Gal's warning.

Now that it was cleared up, Manion sat waiting at his table. Suddenly he was a little nervous, he hand't really planned out how he was going to bring this up with Beth. He turned his empty glass in its place on his table, trying to work up the nerve, and practicing what he would say in his head.

"There are heroes that remember they are people. Only, they are a minority. I guess that is because having superpowers makes them feel different, or because their training as heroes has precedence on everything else. I do admit that I started my fight because of revenge only, but I almost immediately felt the joy of fighting for other people; being the weapon for the people that have none."
Falcon Kitiara shrugged the sadness away; what did it matter if she had been alone until now. Now she wasn't, as she hadn't been the evening before. Maybe it was the place, or the fact she was ready to have relationships now that her revenge was a settled matter.
She was more inclined to think that it depended mostly from the place. It's not that she hadn't tried to go in places that (they had said to her) superheroes visit when they want to relax from a hard fight; she tried the dance party, or something like that.

That hadn't been a pleasant experience. Almost total darkness, pink and blue rays of synthetic light piercing the air like blades, smell of perspiration, of smoke, of closed air; and there had been a repetitive, heavy music, perhaps with a slower rhythm than Metallica, but at a much higher volume.
And then someone had tried to grab her breast, whispering to her that he wanted to see her naked: she had slapped the guy with all her strenght, sending it against the nearest wall with a smashing sound, and went out of the place.

"Oh, you are not rushing anything. I would really like to dine with you in the Restaurant. I can wait for you here while you get dressed."
She was happy that Steve felt as she about superheroes, and it seemed that by now he wasn't caring anymore for the color of his blood. That was good: she liked him better when he wasn't ashamed of the social level he had a century ago. She was sure he would quickly discover that his social level had changed with his change of time.
From engineer to hero; in no time people would start calling him to speak in talk shows. She was sure about that. She only hoped that they wouldn't call him to speak at Jerry Springer's.

Now he looked aside, not having said what he intended. Hoping she would not take it as a rebuke, he tried again.

"I was na' clear Miss Falcon, my finery is..." now he had to think, quickly. Saying he had none, that would not do, she would think he was a man of poor taste or frivolous means. He knew that the Haberdasher closed long before now, and that Martin would be none too pleased if he walked into the restaurant like this.

"Miss Falcon, I was askin' for the pleasure of your company another evenin', ha' you the time and want. May be improper to ask, wha' with all only just meetin' ya' an' you likely havin' many a man waitin' for your time, but, would you do me tha' honor of havin' dinner wi' me? At your leave, 'o course." He had actually stood from the table and moved near her side, an earnest request.

"I've nah known a more pleasant way ta' spend mah time." There was a steady stream of heat radiating from his body, and he dared not come much closer. He could see there was something troubling her, in some of what she had said, but she seemed willing to talk, and that was another sound he had missed, another person's voice.

((OOC: Falcon, don't be too put out. In the story, he has nothing but the clothes on his back and what little his low level influence can buy. If you give him another day, and agree to dine with him again, he will make sure to have something more appropriate to someone so refined, and well described, as Falcon.
He needs to shop first though, and in fairness to the story, that would require a tomorrow. Besides, they say absence makes the heart grow fonder...
Really, Falcon is an amazing character, I hope she will agree.))

[OOC I fully understand, as a player, but the character doesn't have my knowledge, and she simply isn't used to all this: dating, clothing, and so on; so she acts accordingly.
I will assume then that they have already dined, since they ordered their meals lots of posts ago.]

Falcon answered Steve, after just a moment of thought: if finery was the problem, perhaps he would've needed time to choose and buy clothes of his liking. She had heard that shopping sometimes required long hours spent walking in front of shops, or going inside and trying lots of styles before at last choosing one.
Or was the long hours thing only true for women?
"Let's say, in three days, if that's all right with you. It will be a pleasure to dine with you again."
She stood up too, picked up the sword and strapped it to her back, under the shining cape. Obscured by the whiteness of her attire, the sheath was almost invisible. She then turned again toward Steve and asked him, jokingly "It could be dangerous for a lady to walk alone at night. Would you be so kind as to walk me home, Steve?".
With her security level, kings row was as dangerous for her as a pleasant meadow. But she was slowly discovering the pleasure of, occasionally, playing the role of the lady; Steve was so good at making her feel like one!

[OOC if he walks her home, she will wait for them to be far from Kings Row (full of dark fetid smoke) and in Atlas Park, so nice when seen from high above, then activate Group Fly and show him what she meant with flying without machines; she loves flying and will gladly share this experience with a person she deems worthy of it. Sibling: you choose if we shall describe this flight together as a memory that Steve, or Falcon, or both of them, will stop to think about in 3 days.
However it is possible that discussions arise at the moment of paying the bill, since they both want to pay it ]