[Take me out to the Ball game]

[gypsy_embodied]

Back alleys and strangers on the street, life in New York City took so much heat. Or something. The lyrics never sat well with Rhovas, as he was more a fan to modern rave music than he was to folk music from Wisconsin. The man sat on the brick fencing to the duplexes on Keplar Avenue wearing no more than the usual billowing silk pants of black.

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[gypsy_embodied]

Rhovas shakes his head, smiling still. As she grwos more in comfort, as does he, leaning back more.

"I have no city. We have no city. Nomads never have a city,but in such, we are not bound to them. But, no, Lan. You are the first. I find it rather interesting. I know so little."

[nightflowering]

"...if you're not one of us, then, the scales? How? I'd hoped that maybe you were one of us." A nervous fluttery hand reaches out to where the scales were(are?) and then is drawn back. Aww, sad snakey-face.

[gypsy_embodied]

His head drops, eyes flicking to the side. "I could never be as beautiful as you, Lan. Caine does not allow it in his breed."

Rhovas watches her hand, letting the trickle of color flow down his neck, flourishing on his chest and arms, swirling in patterns he thought her own might not be able to accomplish. "We all have our dreams, darling. I am so sorry that I may have shattered yours, if only a little."

[nightflowering]

There is a soft, sad chrrr and she shrugs. "Qué sera, sera. It's not shattered, just a little dented around the edges. Still, that's beautiful. How do you do it?" So he's not a snaky-person, that won't stop her from being distracted by the colours. It's mostly unconscious, but her own scales partially mimic and partially innovated based on his patterns.

"What are you then?" The feathered crest keeps partially flicking up and then resettling.

[gypsy_embodied]

"A darker creature. Something that cannot be blessed like you are." Sliding around the subject, he watches as a feather joins them. It floats out of time drifting far slower than logicially possible. Rhovas reaches a hand out to gently stroke the blackened weave.

"But, I would rather know more about you, Lan. Will you tell me of your kind?"

[nightflowering]

"There is not much to tell, really. Or rather, I am shy about certain things. When I thought you were like me, I was already more open than I would have been. So, you know that we are hunted. We are quiet, reclusive, scared of people and crowds."

"Everything is blessed, in one way or another. All existence is." She reaches out to catch the feather - what a strange place this is. "You remind me of a poem I heard. Would you like to hear it?"

[gypsy_embodied]

"Darling Lan. I, too, am hunted. And many of my kind portray behaviors like those mentioned."

The feather sways in its watered grace towards her fingertips, bringing a touch of the soft underlayer of goose feathers. The man nods slowly, sitting back up.

[nightflowering]

She closes her eyes and recites. Once she's finished and opened her eyes, Lan is blushing a little (or rather, she smells like she's blushing).

"You are very good at what you do and even if I can't quite place it all, I know that. Are you one of 'the libertine way of the masters of ecstasy'? Will you poison me with your eyes?"

[gypsy_embodied]

A nod. "I could. But, I will not. I am like you. A pursuer of beauty. I do not seek to taint or 'poison' it."

[nightflowering]

"That was a very good answer." A small, delighted laugh and the feathers stand up, flicker and settle back. She's forgotten about the fruit and honey, preferring just to watch him - what a strange and curious fellow.

[gypsy_embodied]

They seem to trade glances, each observing the other. Rhovas purses his lips in thought, an old habit that will probably never die, and then he exhales what seems to be a breath he's kept in all this time.

The feather twirls and flourishes, caught up with time as it just sways into Lans lap.

[nightflowering]

"So then, Rhovas, what do we do now? What do you want to do now? Trade secrets? Talk about the weather?"

She lets the feather stay in her lap, it's a pretty and gentle thing.

[gypsy_embodied]

"I would like to be friends, if that is alright. We can talk about whatever you want. As long as I hear your voice, I will be happy."

[nightflowering]

"Flatterer. Silver tongued flatterer." Another blush and the feathers crest-up again. Blush = feathers? Hmm.

"I would like that, very much. Could you tell me how you made your scales?" A little, chirping laugh. "I feel like we're playing 'doctor'. You show me yours and I'll show you mine."

[gypsy_embodied]

She had no idea how silver tongued he could be. But, he nods slowly, raising up his palm with a small chuckle. "It is a gift from the Fathers, Caine and Ravnos. I can use the blood inside me to make images appear. All I have to do is think about it."

The skin on his palm mottles and hardens, shining over as scales of three types; snake, turtle, and dragon.

[nightflowering]

"That's incredible. Can I touch it? Does it feel real? When you take on the image, do you keep your mind or are you more reptilian? And will you forgive all these questions?"

She's fascinated by his talent. Lan reaches out to trace the scales on his palm.