<strong>Name:</strong>Zed<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Marc<br/><br/>She listened to his voice with quite a bit of respect for his charm. The way he touched her hand, teased, and then addressed his interests directly. It wasn't her normal kind of meeting, after all.<br/><br/>"Floors are dreadfully flat," she said, "there is no pleasure in walking on them. Besides, if I didn't use my wings, they wouldn't stay in shape."<br/><br/>"I'm a fixer," she said, "and I'll be good at whatever you pay me to be good at, even if I have to fake it. I'm good at that too."<br/><br/>The enigmatic response was typical of her particular kind. A trickster by nature, it was hard to engage in straightforward conversation, dancing around the issues was much more fun.<br/><br/>"Let's say, my line of work with the Maidenhood was of the revenue intake, and lead output variety. I specialized in delivering and healthy amount of metal to a specific spot, anywhere, anytime. Quiet, loud, doesn't matter to me. I work on demand."<br/><br/>She licked her lips, and as she did so, they changed colour from a pale shade of pink, to a bright shade of orange, and then to a sparkling blue when she licked them again. There could be no doubt of her talent, she had hardly been kept in position because of her inability to do whatever was asked of it. Rather, it was her proficiency that had assured that she never rose in the Maidenhood's ranks. A trickster was a nuiscance at worst, a trickster with guns, was a nightmare on wings.