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Roleplay examples
Who: Grayson Wilkes, ft. Cor as Bellatrix Black
What: Bella and Grayson bond... over digits >O
Where: Borgin & Burkes

Honestly, Bella didn't know why she bothered with Borgin and Burkes sometimes. Their management was going down the drain--how dare Borgin have the gall to tell Bellatrix Black that they 'just couldn't manage to get in' her item in less than two weeks. The man was getting a lot of very frustrating courage as of late--but it was all right... she'd just have to send her father to have a little 'talk' with him to set things straight.

She'd do it herself, but... well, getting her hands dirty for the sake of a digusting old man was hardly what she would call a prudent use of her time.

Pulling her robe closely around her shoulders, Bella stepped out of the shop, a satisfied grin noticable on her face despite her unfinished business with the shopowner. Nothing lately could truly spoil Bella's mood--after all, when your boyfriend was both paying sufficent attention to you for once and was buying you diamonds, not much could go wrong. So with a bit of a skip in her step (or as much of a skip as you were going to get out of her, which wasn't too much), she continued to stroll downt he streets of Knockturn Alley. Bellatrix found herself nicely satisfied with the way that the scum that hung around the place neatly parted like the Red Sea in front of her. She always liked it when it was obvious that she gave off an air of untouchability, especially to such peons as these.

Ugh, Knockturn Alley. While he knew this was the place to come when one needed some ... unseemly potion ingredients all the way up to human fingers and toes, it still bothered him that the place was so dirty.

He flexed his gloved hands and stepped out from the alley he'd apparated into - as it so happened, he was heading in the opposite direction as Bella - right into her path, as a matter of fact. The scum only parted so much, naturally.

And besides, he had yet to kill anyone here, specifically, so no one was terribly worried about his presence. He was headed to Borgin and Burkes to pick up a special double-release vial when he spotted the familiar woman. How he adored Bellatrix in the most platonic of senses - she was exactly the sort of lady that he could respect without treating her as someone less than an equal. He doubted she would stand for less.

"Good evening." Grayson greeted, nodding to her as they passed and slowing enough that it would be obvious conversation would be welcomed.

Aha, Grayson Wilkes. How refreshing and convenient, Bella mused, that he should pop up just now, when she was so certain that she was completely surrounded by filth. Although a deal younger than herself, Bellatrix rather favored the youngest Wilkes boy, a bit more than his brother, even. He was determined, wealthy, loyal, strong, and probably just about insane as she was. He was one of those few men in her 'profession' that she could stand for very long and not have the urge to run a spike across his jugular.

Again, how pleasant.

"Good evening," she returned, halting in her course and turning to address him properly. The way he was slowing made her imagine that he would not be opposed to talking (and even if he was, when was the last time she had cared what someone else wanted?), so she supposed it would be only polite of her to stay for a moment. Bellatrix sent him a charming smile. "What brings you to these slums, Grayson?"

He might have felt the same way about anyone in their profession, really. Grayson had always hoped that at least one of his sisters would end up like Bellatrix. But alas, no.

"What brings anyone to these slums, Bellatrix? Aside from the homeless filth and the lovely decor, of course." A tight-lipped smile and he glanced up the street in the direction he had been going, although he had turned to face her when she addressed him. It was only polite, after all.

"Borgin and Burkes has finally notified me of the arrival of a package." It wasn't a terribly important one, but he was still irritated with how long it had taken. Double-release vials could not be that hard to find.

"I think it's a measure of the decreasing quality that it took nearly a week and a half for it to arrive." A distasteful half-nod in her direction.

Bella smirked and put a hand on her hip, tilting her head back towards the shop in question. "It's funny that you bring that up, really," she drawled. "I just came from there and it would seem that your problem is not a personal one. Hence my coming out with a severe lack of... items. I do believe that Mister Borgin is becoming far too daring with his more important customers for his own good."

A rather homeless looking wizard in nothing but rags for robes passed by her a tad too closely, and Bella offhandedly put a boot out rather hard into his side, sending him into a witch near him and into a building. "Ew, now I'm going to have to change my robes," she muttered, looking down at an imaginary stain that would have been left by the wizard if he had actually gotten close enough to do more than brush her. "How inconvenient. Fucking peons."

"We really should find a cage for the lot of them." He agreed, glad of his gloves for the umpteenth time since he'd arrived. Or perhaps they should just exterminate them entirely. That would be a bit more trouble. Upon hearing Bella's words, however, he sobered mildly and let his lips twitch into a smirk.

It meant he had a plan, or was formulating one as they spoke. "Well, perhaps it would do to remind Mister Borgin just why we are his most important customers and the consequences of mistreating us," he drawled. True, it would be a more enjoyable way to spend his afternoon than picking up the silly vial and having come down here with absolutely no bloodshed at all.

As Grayson continued to speak, the smirk on Bellatrix's features widened considerably. Oh, now she remembered why she liked this man so much--they thought almost exactly alike.

Well, she hadn't been intent on bothering with Borgin to begin with, but with Grayson here, there was some fun to be had. And it wasn't like she had to touch him now... She'd have to remember to start wearing gloves. What a fantastic idea.

"You know, I couldn't agree with you more," she said, turning back to face the shop. "I was just going to send my father or Rodolphus to have a little lesson with him, but your idea sounds to be.. amusing, in the least."

Grayson wore his gloves more often than not for exactly that reason - nevermind how many pairs of soiled gloves he went through in a good week. It was more than normal, but they were strictly necessary for him.

He might have been thinking that it would be a great deal more fun for the both of them to torture him than her relations, of course. "And dealing with his customers of the day may prove to drive the .. point.. home." After a moment of consideration, he offered Bellatrix his arm.

"Anything particular you'd like to encorporate, or are we feeling spontaneous today?" Yes, he enjoyed this sort of thing far too much - but then again, so did she.

Bella gladly took Grayson's arm and allowed him to lead her back into the dank, dusty shop that was Borgin and Burkes'. Sweet Merlin, was it disgusting in there--it was a place she wouldn't deem suitable for herself were she not so often in such need of some of its more... black market... items. All for her cause, of course. Voldemort was the only one that she would ever put herself through this for.

"Oh, nothing special," she mused to herself and to him. "Although I would particularly like to see him go through a good deal of pain before we're done. It has been far too long since I've had the pleasure of causing someone's face to contort into the beautiful shapes signature of pure torture."

The way she said such frightening things so casually, you'd think she actually liked it. Oh, wait.

God, it really was digusting. It made the back of his neck prickle just a little even just standing in the place. But it was the best place to get illegal things, even if it was becoming intolerably slow.

Then again, they were aiming to fix that ... so perhaps it would redeem itself eventually. He held the door open for her and stepped back enough that she wouldn't need to brush against the oily doorframe, then glanced about to try and find Borgin.

"I cannot quite think of a more pleasant way to spend the afteroon." Which was the truth. Torture before all other things, perhaps. "I suppose we'd best leave his hands intact. He might need them at some point." To scratch his arse.

Bellatrix sighed dramatically. "Well, I suppose," she conceded, then looked up at him and pouted playfully. "At least let me have a finger?"

As they manuevered through the many rows of odds and ends in the shop, the click of Bella's heels on the floor was accompanied by a crushing sound that could only mean that the wood of the floors were rotting. God, you'd think with all the business people like them gave the man, he'd at least have the good instinct to put in some more durable floors. She could imagine that if she actually got hurt shopping there, she probably wouldn't hold back enough to stop from killing him on the spot.

Bellatrix's thoughts were drawn away from her bloody fantasies however, at the sight of Borgin appearing from behind the counter. "Oh look, Grayson," she said, mock sweetly and loud enough that Borgin would surely hear. "He seems to be expecting us."

He couldn't help but smirk when she spoke. "Well," he patted her arm, "I suppose we could grow most of them back, but certainly one finger would not be missed in the least. Or two..." Or really, the man could have his entire arm replaced from the elbow down with some sort of enchantment. He supposed it had to be possible.

Grayson's nose wrinkled and he absently tightened her grip on her arm just in case of an event that caused her to trip or fall through the rotten boards. He certainly would not tolerate such an event happening, and he was rather sure Bellatrix would not allow Borgin to live in that case.

"Oh, how considerate of him to acknowledge or presence, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix could almost smell the fear coming off the shop owner as they approached, their delighted smirks well plastered on their faces. And fear he should. For crossing Bellatrix Black was a great feat of courage, but crossing Bellatrix Black and then in turn crossing Grayson Wilkes was a whole other thing.

She noticed the grip on her arm, but decided not to comment on it. Even if it could have been taken as something of an insult to her own ability for self-preservation, she figured he didn't mean anything by it. And favoring someone often meant that one would put up with things they wouldn't normally. It was that way with Rodolphus, as well.

"Mister Borgin, I'm so pleased to see that you're still here," she called out to the shop owner. "It's would have been quite inconvenient if we had not been able to catch you."

Not so much an insult to her self-preservation as a show of his willingness to keep her well-being in his hands if necessary, but it was good that she didn't comment. He glanced over the owner with an unimpressed, appraising furrow of his brows.

"Yes, quite inconvenient indeed. I would like to think that you treat your customers a little more highly than that, Mister Borgin ... but it seems to me that there have been some ... complaints." He turned his gaze to Bellatrix.

"Isn't that right, Mistress Black?" Ever polite in company other than people considered 'more than acquaintances'.

Bellatrix continued to look straight at Borgin, even as Grayson spoke to her, her icy gaze boring into his terrified one the whole time. It was an intimidation technique, as if any more intimidation was needed... a technique that had never, to this day, failed her.

"That would be correct, Mister Wilkes," she said, without a nod. Borgin shook his head a few times quickly. "I--I don't know what you could be talking about," he answered, shakily.

He could feel the part of his personality that sometimes had second thoughts about things melting to the background as she spoke. Oh, she could be so delightfully ruthless.

Grayson had taken the liberty of placing a slightly complex locking charm on the front door so that they would not be disturbed during their ... playtime. His head tilted minutely to the side and he sighed, irritated.

"Now, Mister Borgin. All parties here know that is not true. And you know, liars are really at the bottom of my list at all times." His fingers itched in his pocket, but he simply turned his own eerily calm gaze to Borgin.

"Now--now look. Sometimes, well, you can't--you can't always get what you want! I've got a business to run here, I can't always stop everything to cater to you people!"

Oh, wrong thing to say. Bella bit her lip and gave him a look that was mock-bothered. "Oh no, that is bad news, Mister Borgin," she said, pouting to him. "I suppose then it is pertinent to know that I have never wanted for anything in my life. And when I want something, I get it--in a timely fashion. So it is quite unfortunate that you can not, as you say, cater to me... were you able to speak to them, all the house elves on my entryway wall would have some interesting stories to tell you about what happens when I don't get what I want, when I want it."

Oh, that was the wrong thing to say. His gaze lighted when the man spoke, however. This was going to be ever so much more fun than he had first anticipated.

His nose wrinkled only minutely. She kept their corpses? How very unsanitary, even with a preservation charm. But then again, he did have to admit it would be quite an interesting decor change in his own home.

"I do believe, Mister Borgin, that for the amount that we pay for your less than mediocre services, quick delivery should be expected and not asked for." Mentally, he was running over the options in his mind that would make the largest splatter of blood across the back window.

Bella's arm slipped out of Grayson's and she leaned forward, resting her arms on the counter and now close enough to Mister Borgin that he visibly had to back away. Straight into a shelf of questionable potions ingredients, a few of which fell over, broke, and spilt on the floor.

"Oh dear, I do hope that none of those were expensive, Mister Borgin," she said, making a slight 'eesh' sound. "You seem to be rather skittish lately and it would be a shame if you had to waste any more of your stock. Tell me, what's the matter?" She cocked her head to the side and smiled sweetly at him. It was funny how evil Bella could look when being sweet.

"It must certainly be that he's having latent remorseful tremors at offending you so, Mistress Black." He mused, drifting one of his hands into his pocket. He felt around for the slender, long-bladed knife he kept there with some difficulty, fingering the sharp point.

Of course, Bellatrix seemed to be enjoying herself, so he contented himself with shifting his own weight to the small opening where the shopkeep could exit from behind the counter. A tight-lipped smile.

"But I must say, I am quite concerned as well."

Borgin looked at them both, an amazing amount of courage in his eyes as he glared daggers at the two Death Eaters. Bella stood back and arched her eyebrows at him, looking amused at his newest move.

"Is there something the matter, Mister Borgin? Please, we're here to listen if you'd like to impart your ailings," she said. "Do not seem so angry, for we are only a couple of humble patrons trying to help."

Borgin continued to glare, understanding the way Bella never meant anything she said. "You two--just--LEAVE! Get out of here now! I don't need your kind of business, you bring me more trouble than I need. Go, now, before I kick you out myself!"

Bella's eyebrows raised higher, if it was even possible, and she turned her head to Grayson. "Well, Mister Wilkes, would you have something to say to that?" she asked, a subtle hint that it was time to start having some real fun.

What an insolent man this Mister Borgin was becoming. He did not know quite what to think of it, but it irritated him to no end that Mister Borgin would be so awfully rude not only to Bella, but to himself. And really, it bothered him more where it came to Bella.

"You do not need our kind of business, Mister Borgin? Well, then there is no need for us to retain or business-like relationship, is there?" He brought the long-bladed dagger out of his pocket in a swift movement and then slammed it down on the counter as hard as he possibly could ... through Mister Borgin's hand. It was rather embedded in the wood of the counter, making it quite hard to remove with either tearing his hand and breaking some bones or trying to jerk it up.

In the latter case, the broad-edged handle would (intentionally) prevent removal.

Borgin let out a great scream of pain as the metal plunged into his hand and he grabbed his wrist with his other, looking down at the impaled hand in shock. Sweat beaded and ran down his temples, easily seen when he looked up, mouth open wide, at Grayson. Apparently he had sorely underestimated how far the two of them would take it.

"I can't--how--aah--auuugh--" Borgin choked out before looking back down at his hand. Bella sighed and rolled her eyes as she flipped her wand out of her robes in one fluid, swishing movement.

"Oh please, Mister Borgin, your incomprehensible monosyllables are putting me to sleep," she said, pushing the wand up under his chin, pushing it into the skin and forcing him to look back up. "Now, I would hate to have to take your disgusting head off just to get you to comply with our terms of business..."

There had been a disappointing lack of splatter from that particular movement, but at least the scream had somewhat made up for it. And the evening was young, after all.

He scoffed mildly and glanced to Mister Borgin, scrutinizing his every movement for the moment. No, he was not quite in enough pain.

"I do believe, Mister Borgin, that you do not quite realize how much you need our business...no matter how tiny your brain seems to be. I'm sure that if you try very, very hard, you will recognize the mistake that you made..." For now he would allow Bellatrix her fun, but his own wand made its way from his pocket.

Bellatrix took her cue, with no happiness left to be hidden. Jabbing her wand straight into his neck--hard--she caused a choking sound to emanate from his mouth. That was all he had the time to do before her hiss of a voice spat at him.

"Crucio."

There it was, there was that deliciously bloodcurdling scream that she had been waiting to hear. And ah, how it went on and on. If she could bottle up that sound and keep it forever... how wonderful that would be. She returned to forcing his face up at her, not only so she could look into his tormented yellowed eyes, but so she could let him know that she was serious. If he hadn't gotten that already.

"Now you listen to me, you useless, filthy scum. When I let you go--and there's no telling if I will or not, so don't get all excited yet--you're going to go immediately and make my order. Then you are going to get it within 24 hours, and have it special delivered to my house. You will also be remembering that this is the way any order made for myself or one of my" --she glanced at Grayson-- "colleagues will be treated. Is that clear?"

Or a picture. They could take a picture and enchant the voice into it - it would be perfect. He had to admire her wonderful useage of words, and when she looked to him he simply continued to grin madly.

Of course he knew that she was a little less messy than him - he'd simply have to do something on the way home to alleviate his bloodlust and then perhaps have a warm cup of tea at home. He turned his gaze back to the shopkeep and absently ran his fingers over the countertop.

He'd retrieve his dagger when Bellatrix was quite finished.

And quite finished she was, Bella decided upon seeing the man's labored attempt to nod in all franticness. Good. Good.

Whipping her wand to the side and breaking her eye contact with the man, the curse was broken and Borgin was left laying limp over the countertop, his hand still pinned there. His breathing was heavy, but once he had regained his bearings enough to speak, he looked up at Grayson pleadingly. "Now... now re--remove the--"

Bella frowned and put a finger to her bottom lip. "Oh Grayson, dear me--the dagger," she seemed to fret. "Why, it can't possibly be removed before the deal is sealed... I would so like one of those fingers we spoke of earlier..." Oh yes, she had been serious. Even in joking, it would be imprudent of one not to take Bellatrix Black for her word.

Grayson looked intensely thoughtful for a moment. "No, it certainly cannot be removed just now. It is more a case of deciding which of the fingers you might like, I should think."

He admired the pool of dark blood forming underneath of Borgin's hand. If he cut the finger just right, there would be a lovely spurt of blood before it trickled off to join the puddle in the middle of the countertop. Yes, that would do for now.

After a moment of consideration, he leant forward and grabbed the hand that was not pinned to the table, jerking it toward him enough that it would cause pressure on the impaled one if Borgin squirmed too much. He squeezed gloved fingers around the shop keep's wrist.

"Do let me know when you decide, Mistress Bellatrix."

"Oh, and such a difficult decision it is," she said with a sigh, pocketing her wand and leaning over the counter again. She prodded at each finger individually, as if testing their quality, smiling as they squirmed like worms under her hand. Oh, the man was quite horrified, he was.

"But you know, I'm going to have to settle on the middle finger," she said, returning to her earlier stance and crossing her arms. "Yes, the middle finger. For not only will he no longer be able to offend me in that particular non-verbal way, but it's also, I hear, the best for potion brewing." She nodded once, definitively, and motioned to Grayson with a hand. "I'll let you do the honors, of course. Are you sure that you don't want one yourself? There'll be nine perfectly good ones left, you know."

"Quite a good choice." If only he could simply snap it off - but that would be more trouble than it was worth. Holding the tip of Borgin's middle finger, he drew a second, smaller knife from his pocket and began to ... saw. He cut slowly through the meaty part of his finger until he felt the grind of the metal against the bone - then he brought the hand down onto the table and the knife with it, severing the thing neatly with an impressive amount of blood.

That done, he paused. "And would you like it wrapped, Mistress Bellatrix? I'd hate for you to dirty yourself with his filth." Grayson, meanwhile, was eyeing the man's thumb with interest. It was the most useful, and it would be the most detrimental to remove it.

Yes, that one would do.

"If you would, Mister Wilkes, that would be just lovely," Bellatrix said with a nod and a smile, sounding far too pleased with herself. Oh, that gush of blood had been beautiful. If there was one thing Grayson was good at over anything else, it was his ability to get the most blood possible out of a person. That was a wonderful quality in a man, in her books. "I wouldn't want to dirty myself either, you understand. It would be most lamentable to have to visit Rodolphus tonight smelling like a dirty old shopkeep."

She stepped back out of the way minimally as the blood began to run down the side of the counter and onto the floor by her feet. Again, beautiful.

Grayson was truly an artist, in the strictest sense of the word.

He dropped the thing neatly into a bag and folded the top neatly for her, making sure the inner bit was plastic so that it wouldn't ooze through and make an offending stain on her fingers or robes.

"That would be unfortunate, I agree." He offered her the bag and after she had taken it, moved to the hand that still had all the fingers intact. It wouldn't be terribly fair to take from the same hand, but then ... it was his left, and the right was already mostly drained of blood from the dagger through it, so the spray wouldn't be as impressive.

Decisions, decisions. In the end, he settled for the four-fingered hand and plucked the thumb up in a similar matter, delighting when the spray actually made its way half-way across the table. Nowhere near spilling onto Bellatrix, naturally. He dropped his own finger into a bag and then wrinkled his nose.

"I do believe now would be an appropriate time to retrieve my dagger." Rather than lifting it cleanly, of course, he lifted and dragged, leaving a deep wound across the meaty top as well as the puncture wound.

Ooh, the thumb. Nice, Bella approved in her mind. Likewise, she sent Grayson a look that reflected that approval. The man would certainly have a difficult time with himself after all this; all the better, because now he was sure not to forget it.

Borgin made one more final gasp in pain as the dagger was pulled out of his hand and Bellatrix retook Grayson's arm, smiling contentedly up at him. "What do you say that we catch a cup of tea before departing?" she asked, casually, turning away from the counter for a statement of finality. It was satisfying to hear the rush of robes as the man stumbled back into his back room, still moaning over his hands. "I would so like to catch up with you."

And that was that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Who: Brennan/Maria, ft. SC as Colin (Continuity: horrorified)
What: Ice cream!
Where: Near a park.
When: Midday.

Colin looked uncomfortably - a little itchy, honestly. He hated the suit. Honestly, it was his only good one and it was like 10 years old and impossibly stuffy. He shifted his tie, loosening it as he drifted through the park post-trial. He hated giving evidence, even real, uncorrupted evidence. He got sweaty, he squirmed on the stand, he resisted the urge to bolt. All those eyes on him, it was just awkward. A little frown and he slouched, rubbing a hand through his hair and ducking his head. He should go home and get a little sleep before his next shift, but he just couldn't force himself to run back to the apartment right now. The day was too nice and he needed to unwind a little with the fresh air, especially after the stuffy courtroom.

Ah, the park. Brennan had quickly grown tired of the arguements in her head and Nathaniel's constant irritating banter in the past few days. She was grouchy and today, for once, she didn't have a shift. So what did she do? She let out Maria. She knew that Maria wasn't made for the night-jaunts that most of the other personalities were - she was far too soft, to delicate and childish to go out under the harsh street lights.

So she was out in the daylight wearing a very long sun dress that swirls around her ankles, eating a very blue ice cream cone. Or she is until she bumps into Colin and manages to let it topple over on his shirt. The first thing she does is pout - her ice cream! - but then she simply bites her lip and frowns. "I'm sorry!"

Colin jerked in surprise and the sudden burst of cold, looking with dismay on the smears over his dry-clean only suit...but he recovered quickly. A flash of a smile. "It is perfectly fine! Don't worry about it, nothing that can't be cleaned off." He resisted the urge to scrub on it, and instead just flicked some of it off and chewed his lower lip for a moment as well. He kept his easy smile through it though, then offered pleasantly enough: "You want me to replace that? You obviously weren't very far in." He didn't have the money, but it seemed somewhat worth it - at least someone's day would be good.

Brennan never would have taken such an offer, but Maria nodded very firmly and flashed him an absolutely sunny smile. "Okay! Thank you. It is bubblegum, you know. The best kind." She looked at the stain on his suit with some disdain and wondered where he came from to be looking like that. "You are fancy today, did you have to do something important?" Unfortunately for Colin, she had a problem with babbling now and again.

Colin laughed. She was like a kid, he automatically liked her. "Just a trial." A little sigh. "Putting the bad guys away and everything." His eyes flicked over his face and for a moment all he saw was a kid sister. "Bubblegum, I should have guessed. Honestly, I'm more of a vanilla sort of guy myself. So you can put loads and loads of toppings." He nodded firmly, covering the stain by buttoning his jacket - it just made him a little hotter - and then offering a cheerful: "Lead the way, then...what was your name?"

"You can put toppings on vanilla too," she insisted solemnly, nodding her head to him and smiling. "I am Maria." Brennan immediately went to chide her for using her real name - but then again, it wasn't as if she could stop the girl and she always forgot. She took his hand very gently and started to lead him toward the ice cream stand about a half-block away. "Who are you?"

"I'm Colin! No one interesting, in other words." He crinkled his nose at her, and then shook back, smiling more pleasantly. She seemed...innocent, honestly. It was refreshing. "Vanilla is best with hot fudge and cherries. My favorite." He was glad she'd forgotten about the jacket, he decided. Just being near someone who seemed so perfectly happy put him in a better mood. "I'm so glad it is nice today..." He said absently, letting her lead him along and already digging for his slim wallet.

"It's nicer out here in the sun than it is at the hopsical." She didn't seem to realize that she'd used the incorrect word until a few moments later when she corrected herself thoughtfully, "Hospital. It smells funny there." Poor Colin would probably think she was some sort of escaped mental patient, Brennan thought. But she wasn't in control and Maria seemed to be having a nice time, so she let it be for the moment.

He couldn't help it. He grinned at her. "Hospital?" He said absently. "Are you sick?" He didn't seem particularly worried, honestly, and he got her two scoops of bubblegum this time once they reached the stand, offering it to her with a crooked smile. "Sorry you lost the first one...Forgive me?"

"That's okay." She took the ice cream with another smile and shook her head. "No, I am not sick." But she didn't say anything further on that - saying that she worked there would be a lie, after all, and she didn't like to lie. Pluto and Nathaniel lied enough for all of them, she'd decided a long time ago. "You will have vanilla with hot fudge and cherries?" Because he'd said that's what his favorite was, and you should always get your favorite ice cream.

He shook his head. "I'll steal a bite of yours and you can convince me how wonderful bubblegum is?" Compromising, because he didn't want to keep bleeding money on all the little things, especially if he was getting the sticky mess beneath his jacket dry cleaned. "I'm glad you aren't sick." That was offered a bit awkwardly before he dropped the subject completely.

She nodded. "I fell out of a tree once. It was very unpleasant." She didn't say that it was the way she died, of course. That would sound very strange, even Maria knew that. She offered him the ice cream cone a few moments later, making sure that she didn't drip any on his suit - it was dirty enough as it stood, after all. "Where do you work, Colin, that you have to go to a trial?"

"I fell out of a tree and broke my arm once. It sucked. I was trying to do the lame fireman-saving-cat thing...of course, I'd stuck the cat up there, and then I couldn't get it down. So I kind of failed." A little smile and he took a lick of her ice cream, gave a hum of approval, then offered it back with another smile. "I work in the Orlins crime lab. Just a lowly computer geek, basically. I present evidence at trials a lot though." He made a face. "Not very fun."

Maria makes a face when he mentions computers. Ech, they were so very confusing and quick! "I do not think so either. I am very bad at computers." Brennan was competent enough with them, but she avoided them when she could out of habit. She smiled softly and then shook her head. "That must be very boring. Why do you do it?"

"I like the other aspects. And...you got to put the bad guys away? I'm good at it besides, you know? Sometimes you just want to do something you're good at." It was strangely sincere. He headed for a bench nearby so he could just sit down and stretch out. "Computers are easier than people, anyway. When I was real little I wanted to be a detective or somesorta thing, but people are just too confusing."

"People are only confusing because they like to hide things. Otherwise it would be easier." Maria sat down on the bench near the end with her feet dangling over the edge, swaying them back and forth while she enjoyed her ice cream. "It's silly. Computers are hard because all the keys have different things to do and my fingers do not know where they should go."

He blinked and then smiled. Sweet kid. She looked a little old, but he could accept staying a kid - the world was a scary place. He reached out and ruffled a callused hand through her hair without thinking. "I agree. Lying and not telling...everything is harder." A little sigh and then he leaned back, stretching his eyes out and then murmured: "Computers aren't that hard. I could help you out. They can be real fun - they've got solitaire and games and stuff like that..."

That got him a very firm pout. She didn't like having her hair messed with, but she didn't fix it just then because she was sure she'd get ice cream in it, and that got very sticky and disgusting. She'd learned that the hard way, along with the merits of keeping your gum in your mouth. Maria watched him lean back and stretch out with a curious tilt of her head. "Games, but that's what the board games are for." Not that she ever had anyone to play with except the Others...

He laughed at the pout, raising his hands - a white flag of peace. "Sorry... You remind me of my kid sister. She is..." He shook his head. "She was a real sweetheart, last time I saw her. Hated when I did that to her." His eyes slid closed, almost pained for a bare moment before he recovered his smile. "You like board games? You play any card games?" He liked card games more than board games - poker and blackjack mostly, but still.

"Card games? Like go fish?" Not so much with the other games that took actual skill. She hadn't paid attention when Victor went to the casinos - she didn't pay attention to a lot of things that the Others did. She grinned a little and then shook her head. "I remind you of your little sister? I have lots of those!" Sort of.

He laughed. "I know some go fish, although I think the last time I played it I was like 10." He smiled. "Really? Well...she was special. The baby of the family. She wanted to be a ballerina." A little nod and then he stretched out a little more and murmured: "So, Maria. You live around here with your family?" He paused a bare moment after saying that - it seemed too creepy. She didn't know him, he shouldn't be asking her things like that. Before she could answer he quickly shook her head. "Nah, don't tell me. I'm stranger, right? Don't talk to strangers, they'll get you in trouble." It was half teasing, but half serious. For a moment, he was concerned - what if he had been some freak? He could have kidnapped her or something. "Do you have like...a parent or sibling or something around here?" His eyes got a little more concerned. "You aren't lost or anything, are you? You'll be okay?"

She gave him a slightly haughty look - rather laughable, really - and shook her head. "I do not have any parents for a very long time, but Everyone else takes care of me, of course." Brennan especially, but Calvert and Henry did their parts, too. Maria wasn't going to tell him where she lived, of course, but she frowned at his words. "Talking to strangers is the only way to make new friends!"

"Yeah, but some strangers are bad. I mean, I'm not going to hurt you or anything, but there are some weirdos out there." He made a face. "Just be smart, kay kid?" He shook his head. "As long as you have someone to take care of you, really." That was softer, even more obviously sincere.

Maria made a face back at him - one that involved a lot of contortion of the facial features and sticking out her tongue. "Yes! Thank you." She leans in and kisses his nose with a bit of a grin - of course, she leaves a little spot of ice cream on the tip of his nose.

His eyes crossed when she got closer, but he laughed. Relaxed a little bit. "Don't make faces like that, you'll get stuck that way." But it was half-hearted at best, and he seemed more amused. He smudged the ice-cream off his nose with his thumb and a flicker of a smile and then he offered: "The ice cream good?"

"It has not gotten stuck like this before, and I make faces a lot." She nodded firmly. "Bubblegum is always good. With all the sugar in it, it is hard to screw it up unless you put something icky in it - peanuts or dried fruit, ew. Do you want some more?" Maria might've been a bit immature, but she had perfectly fine manners. Mostly.

He laughed. "Nah, I shouldn't. I'll ruin my dinner." Candy peanuts. He nodded. "I agree, peanuts are fu-freaking nasty." He even censored his language, with a little bite to his lower lip. He quirked a brow at her. "Obviously you're just asking for trouble. What are you going to do when it does get stuck, huh? You'll just be out of luck."

"It won't get stuck!" She poked her tongue out at him and shook her head, licking one of her fingers that had become rather ice-cream-covered. Maria noticed that he wasn't swearing and gave him a sunny smile - it was so silly to say such offensive words! "I never get in trouble." She made an attempt to look ... well, innocent. Not so hard.

He stuck her tongue out at her in return and then shook his head. "Never ever? Ever?" He resisted the urge to ruffle her again as well and then laughed. "I should scuttle off home, Maria." He made no move to get up though - he was tired, and the sun was nice, even if he was double layered in sticky clothes.

"Never ever. Ever ever ever." She nodded while he spoke and watched him curiously, "Okay! It was very nice to meet you, Colin." Maria did so like to make new friends, even if Brennan was insisting that he wasn't the right sort of friend for her to be making. Hmph on her.

Colin grinned. "Nice to meet you too." A pause, and then he dug about in his pocket, found a receipt and scribbled his number. "Here. If you...if you ever do get in trouble, and you need help - call. Okay?" It was a whim. She was like his kid sister, and somehow the thought of something bad happening to her just made him feel a little sick.

She grinned. "Okay!" Yes, they'd all be a little upset if something happened to Maria, even Nathaniel and Pluto - if only because they knew it would effect them too, and that was the last thing that they wanted. Maria took the receipt and put it into the pocket of her sundress to make sure that she wouldn't forget where it was. "Goodbye, Colin!" She hopped from her spot to her feet, planning to go and walk with the rest of her ice cream.

He nodded. "Goodbye, Maria." He pushed up and then headed for home - one last little wave over his shoulder and a vaguely bemused feeling, but he slowly peeled open his jacket and peered down the front at himself with a hint of disgust. Ew, he needed to change.