Not Your World

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"Yes, yes, a long list of arduous responsibilities and strict expectations without which you have no hope whatsoever of keeping my interest." As the engine quieted, Persephone took a moment to collect herself before moving to step out of the car, at which point she looked up to see Ixom already at her side, arm extended. A short, though genuine laugh escaped her, not one of sarcasm or mockery, but of legitimate amusement.

"One has a tendency to pick things up, living in the city and playing big sister to five kids. Girls have to develop some sort of defense mechanism; mine, apparently, was wit." With a look up at him, she slowly stood and slipped her arm around his. "So no, I don't miss much, especially when such passionate words are being bandied about." Again the smug look entered those dark green eyes.


 
Ixom threw the back of his free wrist to his forehead dramatically, and let out a wistful sigh. "Alas, my hopes crushed even before they had a chance to fly free." His hand fell, and he escorted his date towards the cafe's entrance. "Whatever shall I do? Shall I wither and fail under the burden of my crushing defeat, or shall I charge on like a Quixotic hero, with you -fair Persephone- as my windmill?" With that particular flare of drama delivered, his grin sprang back as thoroughly amused as ever.

"Ah yes, the little ones will make a girl quick. Quick of hands, and quick of mind." He nodded sagely. "Although I'm not sure I'd go so far as to say I'm <i>bandying</i> words of passion. Then again, I might just to be contrary." He glanced down at the green eyed girl, and arched a merry brow as they came to the doors. "Although if I don't miss my mark, I'm not the only one who's pleased with himself any longer. Of course, if I had eyes as pretty as yours I'd feel much the same at all hours of the day. Come to think of it, I <i>am</i> rather perpetually pleased with myself, although I like your eyes the best between us. After you," He said, pulling one of the doors wide for his date to step on through.
 
Persephone laid a hand over her heart and feigned an expression of deep emotional anguish to rival even that of her companion. "And how shall I be able to live with myself, knowing that I have inflicted such pain upon a poor young suitor...?" Such was her dramatic skill that the tearful tone might have been almost believable, had it not been for a quiet snigger at the close. They were really quite similar, and such an equal meant there was no need for her to hold back.

"You seem to enjoy the sound of your own voice, dear Ixom," she said, passing through the doors with a polite little nod, "and yet you would punctuate your clever monologue to compliment a simple girl like me? I'm flattered by such chivalry." Then striding ahead of him, she gave a cordial wave to the hostess and continued past the waiting area to an obviously antique table in the corner.

"No need to fret; the owner's a friend." Persephone sat down with conviction in what was most likely her usual spot in the small establishment.
 
Ixom glided after his date to the table she'd selected. He really did love humans, and their quaint little inventions. "You will just have to soldier on, I'm afraid. Bear the burden of your beauty, and the terrible responsibility that it entails. Breaking hearts, and twisting men to your whim. You're a girl after my own heart." He let his grin subside into a more polite sort of smile.

"And I love the sound of my own voice. Nearly so much as I do yours. Especially when you're talking about me." He leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, "I have -at times- been called a narcissist." Back he leaned, before taking a seat across from Persephone. "But don't let that keep you from speaking about things other than myself, difficult as it may be at times. Your voice is lovely enough to merit listening to even when my name is <i>not</i> on your lips." He folded his hands on the table.

"Have I yet convinced you that I'm a self-serving, egotistical, pretty boy?"
 
That devilish glint shining in her eyes, Persephone adjusted her seating by crossing her legs over and leaning her chin on her hand, tilted over the table towards her partner. He was a real piece of work, though there was something rather attractive about that bold arrogance. The end of his speech elicited raised eyebrows from her as she responded,

"I was convinced of that after our first conversation, love." With a gesture to their surroundings, she grinned and said, "And yet, here I am. So you must have fulfilled at least one or two of the 'requirements' to have lasted this long." Her smile faded a little, though it still sparkled in her eyes. It appeared that she was...well, observing him, like the people she'd watched so intently from that park bench. "Advantages to being a conundrum, indeed."

"Well hello there, Miss Hampton." Persphone started a little at the voice that drew her gaze suddenly away from Ixom: it belonged to their waiter. "Nice to see you too, Teddy." The youth observed her date a moment before looking back to the girl. "So I see there's a new guy in your life." Looking momentarily uneasy, she laughed it off. "I can't say I recall there ever being an old​ guy."
 
Ixom would have gone right on pursuing the fluid back-and-forth conversation, but a third voice intruded on the conversation before he had the opportunity to do so. For all of his claims at self-serving narcissism, he wasn't going to talk over his date's acquaintance. Quietly, he subsided and folded his hands in his lap as the two spoke. It was very nearly as if he was shy.

Rather interjecting himself into the conversation at a pause however, he finally turned his eyes from his date to the establishment itself, in search of a list, or a menu within easy eyesight. Demon or no demon, Ixom was getting hungry, and without the consistent tet-a-tet to tide him over his stomach was beginning to make noises of protest.

His smile turned more genuine, as his own silence stretched.
 
Though she spoke amiably to her vague acquaintance, Persephone's eyes often darted to the man across the table from her. To be perfectly honest she was probably spoiled by her previous conversational partner, whose rapid combative dialogue had been entertaining her for the past half hour or so. In her circles she was polite and well-liked, but few people (if any) caught her interest the way Ixom did.

"What can I get you two to drink?" She had to restrain herself from letting loose a sigh of relief as the painfully cordial colloquy came to a close. Sitting up a little straighter, she replied, "Pomegranate oolong for me, and Ixom...?" Persephone looked expectantly across the table.
 
Ixom soon lost interest in Persephone's acquaintance, instead taking the time to study his date's features. The way her expression changed as the conversation drew on. When the waiter got down to business, Ixom's cocky self-assured grin returned like a mask he donned when attention was set upon him. "Pomegranate oolong sounds delicious," He said. "And since I doubt you have top-shelf whiskey at hand, I'll take a mug as well." He paused. "Although if you've got the whiskey, I..." He glanced at his date. "Would refuse, as I seem to be driving for more than myself." He flashed his pearly whites at the waiter, before laying his hand down on the table, palm up.

"May I see your hand, Persephone? My uncle once taught me about palm-reading, and I'd quite like to see how thoroughly full of dung he was." Again, he glanced at the waiter. "Just while we wait for our drinks, of course. You can have your hand back as soon as they arrive. Scout's honor."
 
Persephone looked up at Teddy and said politely, "Thank you, Theodore." The use of his full name coupled with an unmistakable look in her eyes sent a clear message: I'm on a date; you can leave now. She looked back to her companion as the waiter left and fixed him with her emerald stare.

"Again with the paradox: I honestly didn't expect you to propose such a threadbare seduction technique." Feigning an exasperated sigh, Persephone made the habitual motion of tucking her hair behind her ear, then extended her hand to him, palm-up. "But," she said, a trace of that smile crossing her face to clarify her actual interest, "I think I can let it slide this time. Palm read away, Boy Scout." Raising up her opposite hand, she leaned a bit on the table once more and awaited his next move.
 
Ixom smiled, amused. The girl was as effective with nonverbal conversation as she was with her tongue. "You wound me." He said, although he didn't look anything close to upset about the claim that his technique was threadbare. He let his hand slip under her own, and the other joined it. His fingers laced beneath her knuckles, and his thumbs began to trace the lines of her hand. "I see," He murmured, his amused grin falling into a stern sort of concentration. "Though I think I'm glad for your forbearance in this, miss Persephone Hampton."

So he hadn't missed dear 'Teddy's' formal greeting. Quietly, he made a series of humming noises, as if he were confirming suspicions he'd had about his date all along. Unless Persephone prodded him about the reading, he'd go right on hemming and hawing until the waiter returned for their meal order.
 
"And you're so known for your fragility, particularly in the face of verbal confrontation." Persephone formed a pout as she gently teased him, carrying on the theatrics of their interaction. However, her expression changed gradually as her gaze drifted to where their hands met, and up to his face. The cocky grin she'd become almost accustomed to was faded, which caused her to wonder about the catalyst for the change.

"Anything terribly interesting?" She asked casually, tilting her head against her hand. "Or foreboding? I could do with a bit of danger to add drama to my personal narrative." Persephone was nothing if not persistent; she didn't back down from things that held her interest, despite challenges in getting there.
 
Ixom hummed appeasingly until the woman asked him a question directly. When he glanced up again, a mischievous smile spread itself across his face once again, and his thumbs stilled in her palm. "Oh hardly. I don't have any uncles. I told you, all the psychics in this town are charlatans. I didn't exclude myself from the statement." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, although his hands were quite loose enough for Persephone to retrieve her palm if she so desired. "I just thought that this would be the easiest way to hold your hand 'till it was time to place our order." He winked cheekily.

"Although if you so desire, I could very likely come up with something vague and foreboding that will doubtlessly be fulfilled to your mind's eye within the next week or so if you're into that sort of thing." His grin turned from wry to impish.
 
Persephone rolled her eyes and for the briefest of moments resumed her tongue-in-cheek expression before finding the words to tell him off. Jokingly. "See? Threadbare. Leaving me, the girl who saw through your ruse and had full knowledge of what you were actually doing, to have no other possible motive except the obvious." With a direct look into his eyes, she then flashed a charming smile and made a point of leaving her hand just where it was.

"Also, I told you that I wouldn't waste my money on something like a psychic. Or even accept a free 'reading', for that matter." She glanced towards the window, scanning the darkened sky, then turned back to Ixom. "So no, not 'into that sort of thing'." Though she didn't exactly smile, her trademark look of smugness lingered.
 
Ixom retained his impish grin, and he too left his hands precisely where they were. "Threadbare it might be," He agreed, "But the means -I think- is not quite so important as the end in this case." Much to his surprise, Ixom was growing <i>fond</i> of this puzzlingly resilient human. "Well it's a good thing you haven't wasted a penny on me. I'm a wastrel. A liar. And a very poor palm reader. One thing I do have in my favor, -apart from my manly charms, rapier wit, and obscene amounts of money- is the fact that I seem to be quite unable to think of a single reason not to enjoy this date. Which is -if you stick around long enough- something of a rare occurrence for me."

One of his hands retreated from Persephone's own, although the other remained cradling the smaller hand in it's palm. "I want to know more about you, Persephone. This is me being open and honest, and likely as blunt as you'll get me unless you're hiding a fifth of whiskey in your skirt." His grin subsided to a more serious -although not unpleasant- expression.
 
Persephone's eyebrows raised but a little this time, in genuine curiosity rather than sarcastic exaggeration. "You do a poor job of selling yourself, sir, though I admit I'm in agreement: the faults I detect---well, disregarding your bold yet attractive attitude---are at zero." She'd gotten used to his self-glorification now, to the point where she hardly regarded its insertion into a sentence. That said, what came next left the realm of predictably unpredictable; in fact the adverb could be done away with altogether.

"And thus your flattery reaches its peak," she said, almost matter-of-factly in her certainty. "Though, Ixom, I think a gentleman such as yourself would be able to notice if I were attempting to conceal one hundred twenty-eight ounces of liquor beneath my clothing." She sighed. "Anyway..." Her voice rose and then faded slightly, the surest sign of a new topic, "what would you be most interested to learn?"
 
Ixom's eyes remained glued to Persephone's own as she spoke. "I don't need to sell myself." He said. "The people who'd want to buy my act can't afford me, and the people I want to have me will have me at the cost of a handshake and a smile." He gave his slightly too-long hair a flick to keep it out of his icy eyes, as their drinks arrived. He didn't bother to pull his hand back from Persephone's, but rather took the mug up in his left to smell quietly the tea's aroma.

"Although you might be surprised what women can hide beneath their skirts, I can fairly agree with you on that point." He glanced up to the waiter ponderously. "I'll have what the lady's having." He said, his eyes as flat as his tone as he regarded the stranger. With his order settled -and fairly uncaring as to what exactly he'd ordered- he looked back to his date. His face warmed once more. "I'd like to know something of your history at the boarding house, if it's not too great a boon. If it is, you may feel free to upend my tea in my lap, and I'll try my best not to curse if it scalds me.
 
Admittedly Persephone had allowed herself to get a little too wrapped up in this interaction, to the point where the presence of another human being came as a legitimate surprise. Composing herself quickly, her eyes flitted to their waiter. "Provençal chicken salad, extra raspberries on mine." Thankfully Theodore regarded the situation for what it was and departed quickly.

"It's not exactly a weighty task, but I'm doubting that my own story could be found anything close to riveting." She shifted her idle hand to take a sip of her tea, then rested that arm on the table as she directed her gaze back at Ixom. "Still, I'll do my best."

"As one would guess, my parents are gone. One left the other, and a car crash and a gun-to-the-mouth later, I'm on my own. I was about...sixteen?" Persephone let out a little sigh. It wasn't as though she had trouble talking about it; rather, she feared her life was a dull topic to begin with. "So I ended up here, give or take a few foster homes." Her eyes danced about for a moment before resting on the one across from her.
 
Ixom's eyes held neither pity, nor boredom. The first, he expected, was something that people deserving of it rarely wanted to see. The latter was out of the question. Any woman that could ignore his abilities outright -in more than just the psychological sense- was fascinating right down to the way they buttoned their blouses. If they wore blouses. "The tale is all about the telling, my dear." He said, amused. "And although your delivery leaves something to be desired, there isn't a scrap of information about you I would consider less than fascinating. After all, not every girl grows to be a woman with a quick mind and a sharp tongue."

He gave the hand in his own a gentle squeeze. "Have you lived in this city all your life? And do you own the boarding house?" His questions served a dual purpose perhaps, but they were still sincere. He paused in his questioning both to let Persephone respond, and to take up his mug of tea for a sip. It was delicious. Ixom let loose a pleasant sound from deep in the back of his throat.
 
"I apologize for my lack of storytelling proficiency," Persephone said with a chuckle, and her gaze swept downward momentarily before she looked back at him. "It would seem I'm not quite as skilled in the art of talking about myself as some people." That was her nature; given an opportunity, she'd take advantage of it, even at a companion's expense. Besides, it was becoming clear that there was little, if any, that she could say to wound him.

"No to both, I'm afraid." That habit of fiddling with her hair showed again. "I've only been here for about four years. As to the ownership, the house itself belongs to an elderly woman who's currently on hiatus from looking after 'small, loud creatures', as she calls them." She let out a quiet, sarcastic laugh. "I just pay my rent because I'm no longer a minor."
 
Ixom let that wry grin flash again. "It takes years of work on your narcissistic soliloquy before you can reach the level of mastery I've achieved." He said. He let his expression return to the earnest interest it had taken up before he'd been sidetracked by himself. True enough, Ixom's skin was thick enough to make even the most piercing of slander glance off, leaving barely a scratch in his proverbial hide.

"I see," He murmured. "I just got to town myself, although I think I'll stay for a while." He turned his eyes to the hand held in his own. "Do you have any small, loud creatures?" He asked, the corners of his mouth quirking up in amusement. "Apart from the little ones, of course." He was determined to get to the bottom of Persephone's strange abilities.
 
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