03-04-2014, 08:55 PM
A tell-tale ripple diffused around Jaxen. Moments later, a figure in black appeared before him. She was a young woman. A hot young woman - in a scary, S&M kind of way. She looked at him with about as much curiosity as he was likely studying her. I think I under dressed, the smirking thought leached onto his avatar's face and twisted it into an amused grin.
Before he could comment, the world slid by in a flash. They were plunked into the center of a cafe - or perhaps the cafe fell around them - and Voxel, his devilishly plain avatar, hooked his thumbs in his pockets and strolled to the window as though to peer out of doors. Although his voice and appearance were different, Jaxen's graceful saunter seeped through.
"Times Square, huh?"
He turned and fixed her with an accusing look. "You must not have ever seen the real version. It's an absolute shit hole."
He flipped the shades down and met her at the table, where he pushed his cup aside. "Thanks. But no thanks. I'm not a fan of coffee."
Voxel was such a stand up guy. Instead, he pulled a flask from his pocket. In the real world, he was drinking a glass of water, but the program scanned the movement and translated it into his profile's settings. And Vox sipped from a flask. A stand up guy. And classy, too. It was all part of the act. Vox was a famous guy, after all. He had a reputation to live up to.
"So. Two random people suddenly fascinated with nineteen Nikolskaya street. If I were a suspicious person, I might be prone to think you're up to no good. And in that outfit, I'd be willing to bet that to be the case."
He lounged back in the chair, fingers laced across his abdomen, and watched her carefully.
Before he could comment, the world slid by in a flash. They were plunked into the center of a cafe - or perhaps the cafe fell around them - and Voxel, his devilishly plain avatar, hooked his thumbs in his pockets and strolled to the window as though to peer out of doors. Although his voice and appearance were different, Jaxen's graceful saunter seeped through.
"Times Square, huh?"
He turned and fixed her with an accusing look. "You must not have ever seen the real version. It's an absolute shit hole."
He flipped the shades down and met her at the table, where he pushed his cup aside. "Thanks. But no thanks. I'm not a fan of coffee."
Voxel was such a stand up guy. Instead, he pulled a flask from his pocket. In the real world, he was drinking a glass of water, but the program scanned the movement and translated it into his profile's settings. And Vox sipped from a flask. A stand up guy. And classy, too. It was all part of the act. Vox was a famous guy, after all. He had a reputation to live up to.
"So. Two random people suddenly fascinated with nineteen Nikolskaya street. If I were a suspicious person, I might be prone to think you're up to no good. And in that outfit, I'd be willing to bet that to be the case."
He lounged back in the chair, fingers laced across his abdomen, and watched her carefully.