testdrive.

[Wendy Berber] *She turns around at the voice and nearly bowls over some pedestrian, hands flying out to steady herself.* um.. uh no. *She shakes her head, surprise clear on her face.* I tripped on some grass. *She gives him a little frown, looking around for "Olaf" warily.*

[Boy] "Hey." He says when he's close enough, and in a last minute effort to retain some small amount of dignity, he brushes the french fry crumbs off the heavy gauge knitted sweater he was wearing. His jeans are still worn and ripped in places, and his sneakers still mismatched, but he looked a bit more pleasant, more together, than he did the other day.

"Didn't I tell you to stay off that foot?"

[Wendy Berber] *Wendy starts again as Boy speaks, corners of her lips twitching upwards as she nods.* hey.. um. You did. Sorry.. I just, I don't have a fridge..so.. *She gestures towards McDonalds as though that explained everything, smiling apologetically, she sort of hovers between Alex and the Boy, unsure of where she should be going.*

[Alexander Vaughn] 'Olaf' is nowhere in sight. Just Alexander sitting in a hip-centered slouch on his bike, a Buell 1125R in brilliant red.

He looks better than he did the day in the park after Matthias got through with him. He's not wheezing for breath, and the bruises are gone like they never were. God bless supernatural healing, even for those less favored children of Gaia. With one foot is up on the prop, the other gently balancing the bike against the asphalt, he looks relaxed, sure ... edgy. There's an aggressiveness even in the way he chills on a bike; something about him that brings to mind a fighting cock, compact, hair-triggered, preening, vicious.

He sees her wire-rigged glasses and smirks. "Nice. Brings out your eyes." He doesn't mean it one bit.

Then Boy's coming up, this kid maybe ten or more years younger than Alex, and already more than Alexander will ever be. Atop the Buell, Alex unconsciously -- or perhaps consciously -- shifts his weight a little more evenly between his feet. He rolls his head on his shoulders to crack his neck, then watches Boy address the rather dowdy girl.

[Wendy Berber] *Wendy swallows, hurt flashing in her eyes at the comment about her glasses. She brings a hand up self consciously, reddening around the ears.*

[Boy] "Oh? Oh yeah, me too. I mean, I'm just coming from there."

He waves the empty french fry container.

"Sorta celebrating with--"

He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, but there's no one specific in the constant crowd of passers-by. Its a fact that he doesn't realize until he turns and doesn't see the person he was indicating. Great. More imaginary friends.

[Wendy Berber] *She seems to have been struck shy again, nodding and looking at her hands. *oh, um.. what are you celebrating? *She looks up to see who Boy's celebrating with, and seeing no-one, she blinks owlishly, then looks to Alex. Her hands come to her spectacles again nervously.*

[Alexander Vaughn] Alex isn't one to turn down an opportunity like that. His eyes flick over Boy's shoulder in the direction of the point. He leans to the left, and then the right, exaggeratedly looking around Boy.

"Man, I hate to tell you this, but I think your friends ditched you."

[Boy] "Uh...She was just here. I must have....Oh man, I lost her."

He doesn't look too worried about it though. He shrugs it off but his face is a bit less relaxed. A bit more akwardly embarrassed.

"S'okay. We'll probably meet up later. Uhm...I'm Boy, by the way." He says with a slow nod to the guy on the motorcycle.

[Wendy Berber] *Wendy stands on one foot - wobbly. Walking was fine, but standing for any amount of time was a bitch. She reaches a hand out to the motorcycle to try and steady herself.*

[Alexander Vaughn] Wendy already knows from Grant Park that Alexander's hot-tempered and not terribly wise. What she's rapidly learning now is that he's also a total dick. Boy's awkwardness and his embarrassment, which might've made a better man relent, only seems to encourage Alexander. The grin he gives Boy is razoredged.

"Oh yeah? That must suck. Hope they like you enough not to hide from you." He laughs. It's full of false camaraderie. "Boy? What kinda name's that -- Indian? I'm Alex, man."

[Wendy Berber] *Wendy gives an embarrassed sort of frown, eyes pleading as she looks down at Alex. Yes. Down.* Um.. Alex..? You're um..doing it again.

[Boy] He looked over his shoulder again, as if hoping whoever he was with would magically appear and he'd be vindicated. It didn't happen just then.

"Not Indian. Not really. Just my name. Good t'meetchya, Alex."

He looks to Wendy again for a second, noting her discomfort.

"Oh hey, Why don't you ask Alex to take you? I mean I know its not that far, but you really shouldn't be walking."

[Wendy Berber] *Wendy can't quite keep the look of disappointment off her face for a moment, nodding to Boy and murmuring.* Yeah. Ok. um.. thanks. I will.

[Alexander Vaughn] "Doing what again?" Alexander laughs. "All right, okay; don't worry yourself about it."

Boy responds to him, then, straightforward, simple. Alex considers him a moment, his eyes flickering over the kid who was not a kid, and then he rubs his nose with a sniff and turns to Wendy.

"Where you headed?"

[Wendy Berber] um..just ..*She points towards the McDonalds down the street, chewing on her other hand* I was just going to um, get some supper. You don't have to come if you don't want to.

[Boy] His brows furrowed a bit and he considered the two of them for a moment, as if trying to peg what, if anything, was off about them.

And then he's looking over his shoulder again. Where was she?

"Thing is, she shouldn't be walkin around." He says just as he's turning back, and facing Alex. "And I just figured, since you had the wheels...."

[Alexander Vaughn] A better man would have relented at Boy's awkwardness. A better man would have acknowledged Boy's quiet grace in refusing to engaging in a pissing contest with a belligerent stranger. A better man would have asked Boy to join them, if only for the conversation.

A better man wouldn't have bristled up at Boy at all. He wouldn't have felt threatened.

Alexander is not a better man. And it's really a toss-up whether or not he would've given Wendy a ride any other day, but the confluence of events today means he frowns at Boy for a moment, looks the bony girl over once, and then reaches around to unsling his motorcycle helmet from the back of his bike.

"I was going to get some food myself," he says, shrugging. "Wasn't going to be MickeyD's, but I'm flexible. Get on board, Skinny."

[Wendy Berber] I guess that makes sense.. *Boy is offered a partial smile, self conscious, eyes widening as Alex tells her to mount up.* Oh on the bike?! Oh dear.. um... Ok. *With a parting look to Boy she nods, moving to awkwardly straddle the motorcycle. This was such a bad idea. She looks around on either side for a seat belt or something, increasingly nervous when she can't readily find one.* Um.. Alex sir? how do I.. uh..stay on?

[Boy] There was something happening here, but he didn't quite know what. He seemed more confused than anything else as he watched the situation he'd arranged unfold. Something about it made him uncomfortable, but in a way he'd never quite felt before. What was that? What was the name for that?

Where was she?

[Alexander Vaughn] Alexander fits the helmet over his head with both hands, then clicks the chinstrap closed. Then he grabs his spare helmet from the side and hands it to Wendy. When she puts it on, the inside smells faintly of perfume. She's definitely not the first girl to ride on the back of this bike. With his fingers spread, Alex pushes the visor up to speak. Even then, his voice is muffled.

"Guess we'll see you around, Boy."

Maybe that's when it hits Boy, what's 'off' about these two -- or at least one thing off about Alexander. Though Boy's rage isn't overpowering, the humans still don't like to look him in the eye. They avoid it whenever possible, without even knowing they're doing it. Alexander, though: he looks him right in the eye, unflinchingly, as often as possible, with a wary aggressiveness turning over and over just behind the stares.

Alex says over his shoulder to Wendy, his smirk in his tone, "Wrap your arms around my waist. Duh." Then he's footshifting the bike into neutral and backing it out of the space, craning his head around to make sure some idiot car doesn't rear-end him and kill him.

[Wendy Berber] *She puts the helmet on warily, hands shaking at the prospect of riding on a motorcycle.* Um.. Bye ...Boy . um.. Nice seeing you again sir.. I - *Whatever else she was going to say is cut off by a squeak of terror as the bike begins to roll backwards, her spindly arms thrown around Alex's waist in a panic.*

[Boy] And he's the loser in the knitted sweater, holding the greasy french fry container.

"Yeah. See you around."

There wasn't this kind of inadequacy where he came from. Where everyone knew everyone else. There wasn't this brand of akwardness. And boy had never felt this kind of...jealousy...before.

"You guys take care of yourselves."

[Maija] Here's the thing about awakened Payote. It's hella good. Hella powerful. And gives you a hella case of the munchies. And tonight - nothing in the house would do - tonight, it has to be french fries. McDonald's french fries.With catchup and mayo and salt and...

...yeah.

Which is exactly how this particular street rat, huddled in a sweatshirt at least two sizes too big, her hood pulled up and low over her face, hiding her features, her jeans practically falling off a frame that can only be described as 'waifish', the denim off patched, and mended. Her hands are shoved into the 'roo pocket, and her beat to hell boots are making a languid tattoo across the cement with one thing in her sites.

The golden arches.

[Boy] ((Pardon me while I slide out folks. Was good playing with you, but the bed is calling me.))

[Alexander Vaughn] (thanks for the scene man!)

[Wendy Berber] *Wendy's not what she's more afraid of, falling off the motorcycle in Chicago traffic, or being pressed so close to a man as volatile as Alex. She's got a white knuckled grip on his shirt, her body held away from his as best she can, ugly grey skirt crumpled unattractively around her scrawny chicken thighs. Her helmeted head bobs at the Boy, before the sound of a car pulling up nearby snaps it back around in terror.* ((Bye Cell!))

[Alexander Vaughn] Alexander's response to the goodbye is a sharp clack! of the visor shut followed by a shit-eating wink, if there is such a thing. He starts up the bike, twists the throttle to make the engine snarl.

Wendy's probably lucky the trip to MickeyD's is short and straight. She probably didn't buckle the helmet on tight; she probably doesn't know how to balance on a motorcycle, nor how to lean into the turns, nor ... any of that, really. Alexander probably knows that. It doesn't keep him from accelerating hard toward the first stoplight.

A motorcycle's torque-to-weight ratio is a hell lot higher's than a car's. A high-end speedbike like this one goes from zero to sixty in under three seconds; the best supercars take over four. And motorcycles don't have the buffer of a frame, a windshield, body panels. The ground streaks by underneath. The wind tears at her dress. Wendy's whiteknuckled grip is well justified, especially when Alexander swerves around two or three slower moving cars, sliding between the lanes recklessly, and then braking hard to pull into a free parking space.

Alexander rotates his shoulders to make her let him go. The torso beneath the fitted, padded black motorcycle jacket -- racing gear, not hell's angels gear -- is hard and compact, solidly muscular. He reaches up and unsnaps the helmet, pulls it off, tucking it under his arm.

"You all right back there?" He's smirking again.

[Wendy Berber] *He's answered with silence. She's so tense she's shaking, letting go of him instantly and scrambling off the bike in terror. Wendy doesn't even think about the bum ankle until she's landed with her weight on it, a choked noise of pain muffled within the helmet, hands flailing at Alex to keep from going down in a heap beside the bike.*

[Maija] The roar of the bike gets her to look up briefly, as does the terror filled jump of a gangly gal off the back. she blinks, and part of her think for a second she'd head over to say hello but then a breeze carries the scent of deep fried heaven her way...

...there's no resisting that call.

[Alexander Vaughn] Alexander laughs aloud as Wendy goes scrambling off the bike. Then she steps on her busted ankle. Starts going down like a sack of bones. Grabs at him.

Instantly, Alexander shakes her off, twisting his arm about hers to break her grip. It's not the reflex of an amateur; he's trained in some discipline or other. For a second she might think he'll follow it up with a hard shove -- and then he reaches out to counter-grabs her by the forearm and hauls her to a hard stop.

"Watch it there, Skinny." A beat; then he grins at her, baring teeth. "Another fall and you'll be crawling home."

[Wendy Berber] *She's already turned her head, braced for impact. If he's got the air of someone whose trained to dish out punches, she seems equally accustomed to receiving them, the helmet muffling a whimper. She's jerked to a stop and regains her footing cautiously, before slipping the helmet off and offering it to him contritely.* I' s-sorry. um.. th-thank you.

[Maija] She reaches for the door, thin fingers grasping the handle and pulling it to her, as she glances over her shoulder at Alex and Wendy once more. She watches him shake her of, and her flinch, hesitating midstride, waiting. When it seems there won't be an actual punch that'd break Wendy in half, she pulls the door open all the way and moves to step inside, free hand already digging in the pocket of her jeans for the crumpled cash that'll pay for her late night treat.

[Alexander Vaughn] He ignores her sorries where another man -- a better man -- might've asked her why the hell she flinches like she expected to get hit. Or assure her he won't hurt her. Or something.

He takes his spare helmet back and locks it onto the back of his bike. His own helmet he keeps with him, rolling the Buell onto its kickstand and dismounting with an easy swing of his leg over.

Standing now, Wendy can see Alexander is a good three inches shorter than her, compact and lean. She's so scrawny it's possible his shoulders are a good bit wider than hers; there's a hard, triangular look to his torso. He comes up on the curb and heads toward McDonald's.

"Well, are you coming?" Alexander has, miraculously, the good grace to hold the door open for her.

[Wendy Berber] *She limps inside, nodding and thanking him again as she goes through the door. She does a double take when she sees Maija nearby. She brings a hand up in a shy wave, before turning to Alex.* Um.. are you uh - sure you don't want anything?

[Alexander Vaughn] "What's your obsession with feeding me? You're the one that's skin and bones, not me." He follows the direction of her wave and -- oh look, the other half of the mouse brigade. He waves too, sarcastically, and then turns a onesided smirk on Wendy. "Or were you offering sexual favors?"

[Maija] Nearby - at the counter eagerly waiting her two large fries and large coke she'd ordered. She already asked for a side of mayo, and gotten the packets of it and ketchup opened and mixed on the tray before the first fry even hits it. She absently hands over the cash, doesn't bother to check and see if the change is right when it' shoved back at her. only when she's shoving that first fry in her mouth does she see Wendy's wave, and she lifts her fry in way of greeting.

Holy hell she's huuuuuuuuungry.

She turns to lean back against the counter, watching Wendy and Alex as she gives her elbow a steady workout - grab fry, swirl thorough ketchup and mayo, lift to mouth, chew and swallow, repeat.

In between. "Hey." by way of greeting.

Alex waves sarcastically? And Maija considers flipping him off - sarcastically. She's busy though. probably a good thing.

[Wendy Berber] I eat alot, I - *And then the sexual favor remark eclipses all of her feeble protestations with embarrassed stuttering and head shaking. The tall kin suddenly choking on shyness, reddening to her scalp, eyes wide. She looks up at Alex like he's threatened her with something outrageous, before opening her closing her mouth on words that don't quite form. The McDonald's employee calls her forward, breaking her shock, and she stutters out an orderfor an obscene amount of food, all with extra pickles.*

[Alexander Vaughn] Wendy goes stammer her order out. Alexander smirks briefly, and then he folds his arms across his chest and frowns at the lit-up menu behind the lackadaisical cashiers. There's no indication that he was actually coming on to Wendy; in fact, he was probably just doing it to engender exactly the sort of response he got.

When Wendy's done, he steps up. He wants a double quarter pounder with cheese. Yeah, the meal. Orange soda. He pays with a credit card, slips it back in his wallet, stuffs the wallet back into the rear pocket of his jeans. Then he goes pump himself a little paper cupful of ketchup.

[Maija] Wendy orders an obscene of food, which doesn't entirely surprise Maija, really. She cooked for the gangely gal at her place, and she ate enough for several people, and - to be honest - impressed the Gnawer. She is still standing at the counter, eating, through some desire to stay near Wendy while Alex was making her blush like that for the sheer sport of it.

She's a protective one - usually to her own detriment.

"Ya'llright?" murmured to Wendy, as Alex steps away to get his ketchup.

[Wendy Berber] *The spidery kin nods furiously, sliding her heaping tray over out of the way. She's still cherry red, and looks a mess - her broken glasses mended with copper wire, hands and knees scraped, ankle swollen. And she hasn't even gotten mugged yet. Wendy plays with a awkwardly fry, smearing it greasily along the tray liner.* He d-doesn't mean it. How, um, how are you?

[Alexander Vaughn] (go a few rounds w/o me!)

[Wendy Berber] ((a awkwardly fry??? try - a fry awkwardly. Durpy durpy dur!))

[Maija] She studies her a moment, looking up at her from under that hood, before she accepts the answer with a nod. She reaches over and grabs Wendy's tray, as well as her own. "Come on, ya look like yer gonna fall th'fuck over."

She heads over toward the nearest table, setting the trays on top and sliding into a seat before she attacks her fries again. "Ya place liveable yet?"

[Wendy Berber] oh..um thanks. *Wendy follows Maija to a table and sits down across from her, glancing over at Alex who's fussing with condiments. She sighs and offers the young woman a shy smile.* Yeah... No more poison. Um, Thank you for letting me stay with you, Miss Maija. *The blush is finally receding into her hairline, fading from her cheeks.* I hope your boyfriend didn't um, mind.. *She unwraps a cheeseburger and begins to devour it, eyes on Maija.*

[Maija] She waves a fry absently. "jus' Maija." then the fry is devoured. She's eating like she hasn't for days, and has already made most the way through the first large fry, and eagerly looking forward to the second. It's likely a good thing that she's decided to lay off Wahya's gift, because she's eating William out of house and home....

..and not gaining a pound. It's an eternal source of wonder for her... well, Wendy calls him her boyfriend. Close enough, for now. "Nah, he ain't mind. He took me in, ain't he?"

[Wendy Berber] Well yeah..but *Wendy gestures to Maija with a few fries of her own, before popping them in her mouth.* its, you know.. different. *Boney shoulders shrug, and Wendy fixes her glasses before continuing to eat.*

[Maija] "Why, cuz I fuck'im?" There's amusement there, sliding across her face then away again, fast enough that even if she allowed her face to be seen it might be missed. The huff of breath, amused snort, gives it away though. "We wasn't... together or nuthin afore he brought me home t'shower an' do laundry."

They were very together later that night, but that's a different story. "He ain't mind."

[Wendy Berber] *Wendy nearly chokes on her burger, hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tries not to spit on things. She comes up gasping and shaking her head.*Well.. he um, sounds nice. Nice, um, nice guy. *Her smile might even be considered bemused, mind trailing off to another nice guy she'd met recently. She fiddles with a fry.*

[Maija] She is finally starting to slow down a little, taking her time eating the second serving of fries, the gnawing starvation beaten down enough to where it's not quite as bad as it was when she walked in and started. A brief flicker of a grin slides over her lips as she reaches up to tug her hoody lower over her face.

"He is nice. Way too nice for th'likes of me. He'll get bored soon enough of my scrawny ass."

[Wendy Berber] *What does one say to that. Wendy certaintly doesn't know, tilting herhead and blinking at Maija from behind those coke bottle specs* ((Perception + Empathy))

[Alexander Vaughn] It doesn't take Alex very long to collect two cups of ketchup. By then his order is ready, and he swings by the counter to pick it up. Grabs a straw, some napkins and -- after briefly contemplating ditching the mouse brigade to eat away from their chatter -- decides to join them after all.

He has a loose, athletic way of walking; a subtle but distinct swagger. Everything about him is a sort of posturing, a sort of showing off. He slaps his tray down on Maija's side of the booth and tells her to "Scoot over," before sliding in beside her. Before he starts eating, he unsnaps the collar of his motorcycle jacket, unzips it, and then plunks his helmet down at the far end of the table. Under the jacket, which is fine-grained leather with heavy protective padding, he wears a plain white t-shirt, fitted.

"Girl talk?" And then, because he doesn't give a damn if he's interrupting, "You know, I've been thinking about how you said you knew Olaf. Know him how?"

[Maija] SHe glances up to meet Wendy's gaze, her own eyes dark - very dark - and closely guarded. They say that the eyes are the window to the soul, and Maija's well versed in pulling the shutters down tight. She does offer her a slight grin, there than gone once more.

Alex decides to join them, and the reach to tug her hood down lower over her face is automatic. Wendy has seen her without the sweatshirt - and those in Chicago that have, Maija can count on one hand. Alex sees only the line of her jaw at best, the hint of her features. She doesn't allow him more than that.

"Yeah." she says - answering the first question, before she glances at him and shoves another fry in mouth, shoving over so that he can sit next to her. She wasn't really given a choice, and the tension that creeps along her spine, settling in her shoulders declares it to be so. But there's fries, and Wendy, and public space.

"Yeah. Distant cousin of sorts. Way distant. Fucker was all protective an set my ass on a bus home one night - got my ass jumped and fuckin beat th' shit out of 30 minutes later. Shoulda ignored his ass and found my own fuckin way home. Save myself th'hospital stay."

[Wendy Berber] Oh no. *Wendy looks appalled, half eaten hamburger hovering near her mouth.* Thats t-terrible.. *She's signifacantly more nervous with Alex sitting across from her, drawing her body back from the table a little.* is that what had happened before I..um. well..when I fell on you? *She cringes at the memory, taking a bite out of her burger. There are several empty burger wrappers littering her tray already.*

[Alexander Vaughn] "Huh." Now he's watching Maija, whatever he can see of her. "You have a lotta 'distant cousins' like him? Intense?"

He totally ignores the bit about the hospital stay. Nothing to do with him. He jams some fries in his mouth instead, slurps his soda, sets about unwrapping his burger.

[Maija] She nods, slightly, at Wendy. "Yeah. Ain't no matter, mostly better now." It was a remarkably quick recovery if Wendy bother's to count the days. All thanks to a medicine man who also has a fondness for awakened Payote.

mmmmmm fries.

A glance at Alex. "Know a few, yeah. Why ya ask?"

[Alexander Vaughn] Alexander bares a quick, humorless grin.

"Are you, y'know. Kin to them?"

[Wendy Berber] *Wendy looks from Alex to Maija, eating and quietly following the conversation.*

[Maija] "Yeah."

She don't sound none to happy about it, to tell the truth. There's something underneath that, a tension that heightens even farther as she concentrates on the food in front of her.

[Alexander Vaughn] The news makes Alex huff out a short breath. He leans back, shoots his gaze across the table full of food. Mostly Wendy's. "You know what we're talking about here?"

[Wendy Berber] *She nods* Yessir.

[Wendy Berber] ((I've to dash folks. mind if Wendy receives a call and flees to hobble to a cab?))

[Maija] ((no worries! Go for it.))

[Wendy Berber] ((thanks for the rps folks! lots of fun! *Scampers*))

[Maija] She glances at Alex, before Wendy's phone suddenly goes off - and she dashes away in a hobbled flurry, leaving part of her food behind, whatever she couldn't shove in a bag.

In reaction, Maija just says "huh." Eloquent, she ain't. Then she steals the burger that Wendy left behind, and goes about unwrapping it. "So. Ya lookin for family, is ya? What branch?" May as well get to the point.

[Alexander Vaughn] "I'm not looking for anyone." Wendy goes skittering off. Alex's eyes follow her a short distance. Then he gets up and relocates to the far side of the table, facing Maija. He moves his food over. "Just seems like I've found you guys all the same.

"Glass Walker."

[Maija] He moves to the other side, and she lets loose a slow breath, taking the time to let her shoulders ease, rolling them once, twice. She don't like feeling trapped - that much was clear. She handled it well... to the extent that it's obviously something she's had to deal with before. Of course, there's a 99% chance he didn't even notice. She takes a bite of the burger, and then looks up as he states his tribe.

"So's she." Wendy, one presumes. There's a beat, then. "Ain't met any true GW. Ya heard of The Brotherhood? Sorta a common meetin' ground for all branches of the whole fuckin' family tree."

[Alexander Vaughn] "Sound lovely." Alexander's grin is caustic. "What, is it like... a combination brothel/soup kitchen? Cook downstairs, flip up your skirts upstairs?"

[Maija] "Somethin like that. Why, ya wear a skirt often nuff t'flip it?" It's out before she stops it, but she just shrugs. "Dorm upstairs. Buncha fuckin' folk livin there. S'a place t'stay if ya need one. Food ain't half bad. Beer's good. Downstairs' official restaurant n bar. Open to all."

She shrugs a shoulder, an swipes a fry through her ketchup. "I stayed there a night or two, till I started fuckin a lawyer." She says it like it ain't no big thing, like she ain't got no feelings for him. Lying to herself is something she's far too good at.

[Alexander Vaughn] Maija announces that she fucked a lawyer, which earns her a shit-eating smirk. "Good for you," he says, and then takes a big bite out of his burger. "Nobody gives a fuck." Pause. "Where's this Brotherhood of yours?"

[Maija] She smirks, slightly. "Yes, it certainly is." Good for her, one would presume. "In th'Green." Then she gives the directions to the brotherhood, without denying that it's hers in any way shape or form, or admitting she avoids it most of the time.

"Can't miss it. S'the Brotherhood of Thieves, official like. Ask for Jenny in the back."

[Alexander Vaughn] "Maybe I'll check it out," Alexander says. He sounds a little dubious; but then, he did need a place to stay, and even a fleabitten motel's daily rates were starting to put a strain on his budget.

He shovels down the rest of his burger, then picks up his fries and drink. "Thanks for the tip, shorty." And he means it like that: shorty. Not shawty. This ain't no term of endearment. "You take it easy."

[Maija] Shorty? He barely tops what, 5'9 or so and she's shorty? Nice. She smirks, and gestures absently at him as he thanks her. "Yeah. You too."

She doesn't call him a nickname, doesn't invite him to stay, doesn't do anything other than watch him stand, and then watch her steadily disappearing foot. He'd never guess tonights conversation is one of the longer ones she's had since coming to Chicago. She doesn't exactly put off the approachable vibe, that's for sure.