The similarity to his own entrance - handcuffs - is most of what draws Ethan's attention, although pretty brunettes who look like they might be crazy as shit can usually do that without any help from steel accessories.
Zorya tips her head to the side, eying the tablet screen with mild, incredulous amusement for a split-second. Then she just smiles.
"Did you want me to share?" It doesn't take much guessing to figure out what he means, and she lifts her hand to display the dangling cuffs. "Because I promise, I'm not really very attached to them besides in the immediate, annoyingly physical sense."
Oh, Ethan, you exude 'not to be trusted,' but at least Zorya finds this intensely familiar. She exhales and stretches her arms up above her head (tablet picture going temporarily a bit odd), with a languid little noise, as though this ain't no thing and she's very idly contemplating whether she really needs the help.
"Having thought about it," she says, drawing the tablet closer again, "I do have a knack for the persuasion. What's your currency, kind stranger? All I've got is my gratitude, but I am damn charming. More so in person, though."
Trusting Ethan is sort of like base-jumping with no safeties - 'almost certainly a bad idea'. He's not uniformly unreliable, but that's almost worse than if he were.
Under the circumstances, though, with Taxon providing most everything he could want, including entertainment, and more time needed to deduce something truly awesome, he decides to be generous. "Let me keep the cuffs," he says, grinning.
"You are a prince," she laughs, deciding (it is a decision, where she's concerned, whether instinct is to be indulged or tossed aside) not to be afraid of this place. If there's something that's going to attack her, it'll come at her regardless of whether she cowers or panics, and it's not like she'll be able to handle much very efficiently with steel strapped to one wrist, anyway.
"Are you coming to me? I hope you've got your white horse at the ready."
"The noble steed isn't speaking to me at the moment-" did he just call Giles a horse, maybe, "-so you'll have to wait while I take the train. Ethan Rayne, at your service."
The similarity to his own entrance - handcuffs - is most of what draws Ethan's attention, although pretty brunettes who look like they might be crazy as shit can usually do that without any help from steel accessories.
"Oh," he drawls, "and you got to keep yours."
Reply
Zorya tips her head to the side, eying the tablet screen with mild, incredulous amusement for a split-second. Then she just smiles.
"Did you want me to share?" It doesn't take much guessing to figure out what he means, and she lifts her hand to display the dangling cuffs. "Because I promise, I'm not really very attached to them besides in the immediate, annoyingly physical sense."
Reply
"I could be persuaded to help you with that," Ethan observes with studied nonchalance.
Reply
Oh, Ethan, you exude 'not to be trusted,' but at least Zorya finds this intensely familiar. She exhales and stretches her arms up above her head (tablet picture going temporarily a bit odd), with a languid little noise, as though this ain't no thing and she's very idly contemplating whether she really needs the help.
"Having thought about it," she says, drawing the tablet closer again, "I do have a knack for the persuasion. What's your currency, kind stranger? All I've got is my gratitude, but I am damn charming. More so in person, though."
Reply
Trusting Ethan is sort of like base-jumping with no safeties - 'almost certainly a bad idea'. He's not uniformly unreliable, but that's almost worse than if he were.
Under the circumstances, though, with Taxon providing most everything he could want, including entertainment, and more time needed to deduce something truly awesome, he decides to be generous. "Let me keep the cuffs," he says, grinning.
Reply
"You are a prince," she laughs, deciding (it is a decision, where she's concerned, whether instinct is to be indulged or tossed aside) not to be afraid of this place. If there's something that's going to attack her, it'll come at her regardless of whether she cowers or panics, and it's not like she'll be able to handle much very efficiently with steel strapped to one wrist, anyway.
"Are you coming to me? I hope you've got your white horse at the ready."
Reply
"The noble steed isn't speaking to me at the moment-" did he just call Giles a horse, maybe, "-so you'll have to wait while I take the train. Ethan Rayne, at your service."
Reply
"Out front, apparently. Oh, and it's Zora--Zora Polunochnaya."
Reply
"I'm too hungover to try and pronounce your surname," he says, cheerfully. "Ten minutes. See you soon, Zora."
Reply
She's faintly amused by the directness there (hey, that beats trying and failing utterly), but says nothing, simply waving a hand at her tablet.
She'll wait.
Reply
Leave a comment