exsilium | [text; backdated ever so slightly]

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[Samus had missed the initial flurry with the murder of Amar Singh, as she was over at Adam's apartment tending to his wounds. It wasn't anything she regretted, but rest assured, as she came into the precinct the next day her efforts were focused on helping to gather evidence. By necessity of her trade, Samus was well adept at reading corpses and crime scenes. Perhaps she would have been the one to note the nature of the entry wound, and the second bullet that missed him and lodged in the adjacent wall. Aside from the mismatching ballistics profile, all other evidence wasn't looking very promising for the suspect.

Pinkman would take the stand tomorrow. Samus, for the most, seemed content to not give any statements and only procure the evidence to be used in the trial; let the lawyers do the layering. The results should speak for themselves one way or another. She would quietly observe the (ridiculously theatrical flying holographic screens and all) court proceedings as she had been, and then go back to working on a personal case of her own: how Adam truly sustained his wounds.

Zagreus has also been distantly on her mind. Ah, yes... she should probably check in with the Doctor and Blue...]

For the record, next time there's a party don't invite a horde of dragons and firework robots, or whatever those were. I've been picking wings and scales out of my suit all week.

[Private text to one (1) Doctor]

I haven't seen much of you since the masquerade. Have things with you-know-who stabilized?

...Thanks for the Christmas vodka, by the way.

[Private text to one (1) Blue]

Just following up from the masquerade. Are you feeling [how do expressing concern...] better...?

[Private text to one (1) Prestor]

I'd like a minute of your time.

[OPEN ACTION]
[As implied Samus has been a busy lady again these past few days; going to-and-fro from the police department, around the Hold and in the city as her job/business takes her. Perhaps she's working hard down at the precinct ~~talking about space jazz with Calhoun and Shepard around the water cooler~~ ~~yelling at Adam for stealing her snacks god stop it~~, or she's investigating for the trial, in the market/shops shopping for spare mechanical parts/tools, ~~hunting wild burger beasts to feed Maya~~, or just out and about.

If she's in the police department or her apartment, she's probably not in the Power Suit. If she isn't, she'll have her big conspicuous suit of orange alien space armor on.

Either way, Samus is very susceptible for random (even literal) run-ins as of late.]

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I've been called many things before.

[She's never cared to confirm or deny if/when someone mistakes her gender, or in this instance, purposefully calls it into question when someone gets it right. But any bounty hunter can appreciate a veil of mystery. Especially a man-eating one.]

How do you even know I'm a woman? Samus is a fairly ambiguous name, isn't it?

[But it'd be interesting to what he does with that. Maybe he's been inviting over man-eating-man this whole time.]

Edited 2013-01-02 06:27 (UTC)

And I will call you many more, if such is your liking.

[ The suggestiveness to his replies is overt now. He's pushing just to see how far he can go, how much she'll take before telling him off. It's not hard to see why Adam had made a favorite of this one. ]

You've been brought up briefly in my conversations with Adam, outside the network. The fondness in his tone is clear, greater than it would be for any man.

He fancies you, Miss Aran. But I'm sure you already knew that.

[This entire conversation she's been on the offensive, more or less seriously so; but now she finds herself suddenly on the defensive, and she doesn't like it. She knew that already, but it was different being hearing it--reading it--from someone else. What's it to you?]

I hope that's not jealousy I detect in your text.

[ There's plenty of things he could say here, but ultimately saying less leaves it open to interpretation—and to a whole slew of implications, which he always delights in hanging. So much fun to torment already, he can only imagine how she'd be in person, how wonderful she'd be to pick apart...

Well, one step at a time here. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, dear. ]

Why would it be?

[It's the implication she doesn't like most of all; she knows what happens when she lets someone into her life too closely. They inevitably get hurt and she gets hurt as a result. If you care for someone you need to be able to protect them--and that was typically something she was very good at--but she still hasn't quite figured out how to protect someone from herself.

Damn implications.]

Why bring it up? I thought we were doing just fine talking about you.

You don't strike me as the shy type either, Prestor.

[ That's the thing about snakes, though. You don't know they're too close, too embedded in your affairs until the fangs are out, and before you know it, they've lunged from the place you least expect them, wrap themselves around your neck and bite. Expert hunters... and it took a hunter to kill a hunter, in most cases.

Samus of course cannot see it, but that smooth smile of his is very nearly visible in his words alone. ]

Propositioning you outright for the evening is a bit forward, even for me. I am most regrettably a man of my times, but I do recognize the need for discretion when it is due.

I also know better than to challenge another party's claim so brazenly. It is simply a matter of manners, madam.

[A hunter was always another hunter's most formidable enemy. Worse was one she couldn't see and didn't even know if it had a taste for her yet.

At least he's polite... in an unflattering, offensive way. Congratulations on that, Prestor.]

I'm not something to be claimed, and I'm not anyone's property. You'll make your first mistake thinking that of me.

If my body has needs, then so be it. I will sate them one way or another; no different than eating or sleeping. It's nothing personal.

[...Or so she tells herself. And she frankly detests using her body for any other reason than that. Especially not to seduce someone for information; she has too much pride for that, and why bother when a fist or gun worked just as well? Far more efficient. Still, if he's so interested, then there is an angle she could begrudgingly check out in her detective efforts. Prestor's coming across to her as a sleazy, unhelpful but innocent witness, but maybe it would be fruitful...]

But I did say I would keep it in mind. Where exactly do you live?

Edited (how doe tenses and thenthans) 2013-01-02 09:45 (UTC)

[ Oh, it did.

It definitely, definitely did. ]

Now, now. I never said that you were. [ More implications. They are being implied. ] But I think we can both agree that aggravating Adam at the moment would be an unwise decision, yes? Those blades of his are on the nasty side, I'd much rather not be skewered by them in a fit of... what was it you mentioned?

"Jealousy."

[ Except he already had been, but that's besides the point, really. ]

You may visit me at Unit 1001 at your leisure, Samus. My door is always open, for drink or for discussion.

Perhaps the answers you are seeking will be there, as well. Who can say?

[Forever damning those implied implications.]

I can only hope so.

[But a lady's got her priorities. If Prestor's aware of Adam's blades then no doubt whatever fight happened that night was a grand one. The bar tender probably had a fit, and she's going to go snooping around to find out just how bad it was, and where.

And when she comes up inevitably empty-handed is when she's going to consider that other angle--Prestor himself--begrudgingly.

Samus is the type to not announce her coming and going either. She'll grace his door in casual attire; KNOCK KNOCK.]

[ No matter how gifted of a hunter you are, Samus, you're still human, and Prestor is still a dragon. He can hear you and smell you long before you even arrive at a doorstep. Heaving a light sigh—honestly, if he could just one evening without being disturbed—he waves the door open, propping up his head on his hand at the table as he shuts his book. ]

Good evening, madam.

[ The flicker of the fire is warm, inviting. Come a little closer, it seems to say. I won't bite.

Hard. ]

[Hey, he did say at her leisure. And this is so.

Sturdy boots enter his floor in slow strides, almost a saunter. Regardless if she has a suit of armor on or not to protect her, Samus walks with confidence. Fearless. Her attire is nothing to speak for it though; simple shirt, military-esque jacket, and jeans... something comfortable enough to give ease of mobility yet keep the winter cold at bay. Apartment or not, the poor insulation in most of this building tended to show--making the fire seem all the more out of place/inviting. Probably most notable though was the gun strapped to her thigh. She wasn't here to pick a fight but she rarely went anywhere without it--a girl's best friend, really.

The door trick doesn't bother seem Samus ~~because if it shuts and locks behind her then she knows she's in for a boss fight~~ but she does let her eye roam around his study; taking careful note of the decor, available entrances and exits, furniture placement, taste in books, wines, and of course--him.]

I hope I'm not disturbing you.

[The dryness in her voice indicates again that, it's not anything she's apologetic for.]

[ Click, click, click...

Prestor's gaze, dim and dark in the limited light available, makes no disguise in its sweep down Samus' form, trim, well-toned, and held squarely upright with utmost assurance. Clearly, then, a woman who suffered none in the ego department, and not one easily trifled with. The gun brandished out in the open comes as some surprise, and he has to wonder what sort of statement (if any) she's intending to make with it, but he refrains from comment, offering her a faint smile instead. ]

As if you could ever.

[ Prestor gives his tome a series of taps, and it promptly disappears in a poof of black smoke. He is slow to rise as Samus had been to enter, well-tailored silks sliding smoothly along the floor as if they were part of him rather than mere bits of fabric he wore, yet another feat of magic he seems to wield effortlessly.

Dipping his head into a bow once he reaches her, he keeps his tone polite and reserved, a lord greeting a lady. ]

Is there something I can get for you? Something to make your stay more comfortable, perhaps?

[ A question he'd repeated many, many times to prospective prey, all leading to the same result. ]

[She doesn't answer immediately, still taking in the surroundings, his demeanor.]

Just a drink.

[She was still not liking this part of her self-created mission, but no turning back now.]

Something we could share.

To share?

[ There's a questioning lift of a brow on Prestor's end, but he's turning, moving to the minibar regardless. ]

You should've let me know you were coming. I would've prepared a more adequate welcome.

I'm easy to please.

[That statement lingers somewhere between truth and irony; Samus was anything but easy to please, especially in what Prestor probably wanted out of her. As it was she would do this often; purposefully not announce her coming and goings. Sometimes it was unintended--out of habit. Samus followed her own rule and no one else's.

She follows more into his study, thoughtfully quiet for a few moments as words lingered on her tongue. Small talk was never her strength.]

I take it you're not busy for the rest of the evening.

[If he was he wouldn't be now with how intensely she was staring at the back of his head, as if the ice blue in her eyes burned right through it.]

Edited (now how) 2013-01-05 09:22 (UTC)

[ Prestor withholds a chuckle at the sheer transparency of the entire affair as he reaches for a pair of glasses. Samus was not a target easily seduced, from what he'd gathered, so for her to display such eagerness, concealed in her posture if not in the fire of her gaze that left little to the imagination, struck him as peculiar.

Of course, the possibility existed that she simply took interrogation very, very seriously—which was fine by him, really. He had the world and then some to hide, but she wouldn't find it. And if she dug too deeply... well, at least Adam would have company in his state of utter hopelessness. ]

I'm suppose we'll see. [ Flicking the fridge open with a over his shoulder. ] And no, I hadn't any other plans. You're free to stay as long as you'd like.

Good, then.

[It's not a snobbish or sarcastic "good", but simple affirmation. With any luck she wouldn't be here too long, but Samus wasn't the sort to leave until the job was finished. She lets herself linger by the fire, feeling it's warmth prickle at her legs and cast long shadows across the room. She's studying him ~~in his study dohoho~~, patiently waiting for her fine liquid refreshment.]

I didn't have a whole lot of luck with my hunt.

[It's a slight lie. She might have come up empty-handed in regards to the bars she inquired in, but that didn't mean she couldn't make that lack-of-information useful. It meant that wasn't a direction she should pursue.]

I figured I could use a drink and some company [There's barely hesitation on this choice word] for all my efforts, especially since you were offering.

[Samus rolls her shoulder, showing off the apparent stress this has caused. She's so stressed, Prestor; wouldn't you like to help this lady out?]

Edited 2013-01-06 07:45 (UTC)

That is most unfortunate.

[ Fortunately, she won't be waiting long; Prestor mixes the drinks with the combination of adept magic and a talented hand, handing her one on the way to the couch and sinking into it, the rest of the bottle waved onto a small table near the armrest. He sees no need to gesture for her to follow as his lazy, half-lidded gaze says as much. If she wanted to share, he'd share.

He always had plenty of things to share with his friends, after all. ]

You preferred mine over Adam's? [ Taking a swig, hot and sharp in his throat. Just the way he likes it. ] I'm sincerely flattered.

[Samus smoothly turns narrowed eyes into a blink while raising the glass to her lips. She takes a good deep inhale of his liquor, letting its scent burn her nostrils--that's just the way she likes it too.]

You two must have something in common, even if only shared over drinks.

[ Prestor just smirks cockily, like a cat taunting a cornered rat. ]

One could say we've endured similar pains. And although he's a bit... gruff, I can appreciate how he approaches problems. He's certainly a rare find.

[ One glass down, and he's already pouring himself another. ]

As are you, I'd suspect.

He's been through a lot, mechanical parts and all.

[And not much more than that does she want to disclose. That was Adam's business.]

You don't have any mechanical parts or surprises under those robes, [She makes it a point to give him a very blatant up-and-down roam of her eye.]

...do you?

Oh, I know.

[ He purposely leaves the statement vague, just to incite her further. And at the pointed question, Prestor leans back, all too aware of where this conversation is headed and all the more amused because of it. That certainly hadn't taken long. ]

Is this the part where I say "there's only one way to find out" and then proceed to ravish you? [ Teasingly added: ] Or is that just going to get a glass thrown in my face?

[Oddly there's a faint smile playing on her lips, however insincere--like if she pulled them back any more she'd threaten to bite him from across the room.

But she doesn't. Samus finds the plush edge of an arm of a chair and sits on it, crossing her leg.]

That would ruin a perfectly good glass.

[She raises her glass in the air a little, but not to throw--as if to say 'cheers' at that notion before taking a sip.]

But I think the robes are a good place to start.

[There's a beat, a slight tilt of her jaw upwards; she's challenging him again--challenging him to contain himself and impress her. Strip yourself in front of her, Prestor, if you dare. Show her what you've got.]

Slowly, one by one.

[ Trying to hide one's fangs from a dragon was a self-defeating plan, doomed to failure. There's no way for her to know it, of course, but he has to keep himself from sneering. Really, Samus? Not that he wouldn't relish the idea of sinking his teeth into her, at some point, but with such a suspicious light cast on him right now...

Prestor shifts, makes sure said robes hug his false body just tightly enough to show that yes, he is indeed trim beneath all that luxurious fabric and there is ample reason he attracts so much female attention, but otherwise does not move. ]

You play a mean hand, Miss Aran, that much I will concede.

[ He gestures to her gun with the glass in hand. ]

But I don't make a habit of baring myself in so vulnerable a fashion if my companion has other intentions in mind. [ Bluntly: ] Why did you come here, really? Was it truly out of personal interest? Or just another form of interrogation you employ in your line of work?

[A little from column A, and a little column B--those Samus's personal interest in Prestor wasn't for his body. It was her professional interest that was.]

I have a very damning curiosity.

[And that much was truth too. There was an odd, undeniable allure that Prestor permeated. Samus felt herself drawn to it as much as she felt a distant voice in the back of her mind urge her to remain steadfast and focused on what she wanted. A voice that wanted to challenge him. A voice that wanted her to find a challenge in him. A voice that suggested she was chasing her tail and this was all foolish and a waste of her precious time.]

I think you know the answer. Are you going to take your clothes off for me...

[There's a pause, as she sets her glass down then raises her hands to the top of her jacket, zipping it down the length of her torso. Her form-fitting shirt sports another zipper starting at the collar, which she fingers.]

Or do you need further incentive?

[Look, don't touch seemed to be her intended game. She hoped he would play it with her too, because his stupid robes were only in the way.]

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LE ACTION

AW YISS

i put on my robe and wizard hat.......

Oh, I like to play dress up.

busts out the whips and chains?

Re: busts out the whips and chains?

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hurp sorry for the delay!