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Although he didn’t like it when Valentina – the girl formally known as Isabeau – invaded his space, he allowed it. The alternative, after all, was violence and it would have been pretty pathetic to respond aggressively to such a minor offence. Any other capo might have shot her for her tongue alone let alone the invasion, but Levi wasn’t just any capo – fortunately or unfortunately as that might have been. Ordinarily, a capo wouldn’t be without a guard or two – or twelve, depending on how important or hated they were. Levi was far from sitting within the bosom of everyone’s hearts, but he was arrogant and up to no good most of the time so he needed privacy more than protection. He certainly didn’t need protection from this little hot-head because being as close as she was meant that she had Levi’s undivided attention. He scrutinised the intention within her eyes, was alert to any sudden movements of her hands, he even heard – and indeed felt – her calm pulse pushing at the air between them, meaning that his focus wasn’t entirely on what she was saying. He still heard her loud and clear however, so when it seemed like she was doing her best to seduce him, bring him to a high and then drop him like a stone by stepping away, Levi could only sneer.

Valentina thanked him for the earlier cigarette, changing the subject to keep up her self-presumed power, so Levi rolled his shoulders into the brickwork. He could let her think she’d won and she’d get bored if he didn’t retaliate, leaving him alone with his thoughts for the night. But, wouldn’t he get bored too? All he had left to do for the night was work and although she was about as welcoming as a bee sting to the crotch, he still found it amusing to smack that beehive. Valentina was looking straight at him, expecting a reaction, maybe expecting him to shiver with excitement or something, but his attention wandered to look down the street, expressing boredom. Her little seduction hadn’t worked, and why would it? Did he look so highly strung that the mere presence of a woman was going to arouse him? Maybe he needed a shave or a change of clothes or… something. Or, perhaps more likely, it was simply that Valentina was used to getting a rise out of stupid young men whose heads, paradoxically, remained up their own arse and inside their dicks all at the same time. Her little stunt might have worked on them, but if she was going to boast about how amazingly sexy French women were, she had some ways to go because right now, she was just proving his point.

“Yeah,” he murmured, almost like he was talking to himself. “Still not very French.”

The comment, snide as it might have appeared since Levi didn’t bother to look at her the whole time, only got nastier as he finally looked back to her, regarding her like some cheap puttana. Still, behind the cruel stare, there was intrigue. What would Valentina of Harper Rock do? Would she slap this man who’d insulted her? Would she attack with words? Or would she take it on the chin, maybe work to find a way to prove… whatever it was she was trying to prove. Levi wasn’t sure what her point was, but she seemed really ******* determined to prove her heritage. Were French women this proud? He’d always figured they were quietly confident, elegant, stylish, and all those other really popular stereotypes. If truth be told, Levi didn’t really care all that much and he was only picking on this subject because it seemed to piss her off – just like the good old bat and beehive scenario. He’d found an easy way to annoy her and now he was just having a little fun. It wouldn’t do her any good to attack him, but Levi figured that Valentina of Harper Rock didn’t allow logic to overcome impulsiveness. She’d have to be quick to get in a lunge too because Levi was soon to change the subject.

“So,” he began, checking the flashy Panerai Radiomir Firenze watch on his forearm. “As wonderful as this chat has been, unless you like the track, I’m gonna have to leave you to it, Valentina.”

Levi quirked a brow at her sudden confession. You don’t talk about illegal activities so boldly – least of all with a stranger. Seriously, did he even look like he could be trusted? His brow fell back into its regular position soon enough, his frown looking more suspicious than angry though – not that anger was completely off the table. In his mind, he was sure that something was wrong with this woman, but seeing as how he’d had few to no interactions with the general populace of Harper Rock, maybe this was the city’s version of normal. It wasn’t normal to him – not even close. Cosa Nostra never talk so openly about their misdeeds and when such matters are worth boasting about, they are always concealed under some kind of code. Maybe it was paranoia, maybe it was just about being safe rather than sorry, but that was what Levi was used to – it made sense to him. He wanted to tell her to shut up, give her some friendly advice from one criminal to another, but he wasn’t in the business of giving things away for free. Besides that, he still didn’t know if he could trust Valentina – or Bo, as she seemed to prefer.

“Yeah, I’m not calling you that,” he said with a sneer. “You might as well start ya talking then, Valentina. We do have a bit of a walk ahead of us.”

Levi pushed himself off the wall and began to walk in the direction of the race tracks – greyhound racing in fact, but she’d figure that out for herself when they’d get there. She’d be disappointed too because this wasn’t like the Kentucky Derby or the Breeders’ Cup where rich people gathered; this was just a good old fashioned track. As they walked, Levi fully expected her to keep the conversation flowing, or at least to stay true to her threat, so he was quiet. Levi disappeared back into his own head in fact, where he continued to question this strange woman. She could have been a cop, his first thoughts offered, though that thought alone made him laugh a little. He had to disguise his amusement with a turn of his head, looking up the lonesome road ahead of them to the left and then looking back on the path they were walking. Eventually though, his eyes fell back on the woman and his thoughts seemed to instinctively return to questioning her motives.

She could have been a cop. She almost looked like one. The tough exterior, the acid tongue, the stubbornness, and the naïve criminal knowledge just smacked of someone who was trying too hard. Valentina was trying to deceive someone and if it wasn’t because she was a cop, then it was probably because she was insecure. A lot of people were insecure about a lot of things – even the proud and stalwart Levi had his moments of uncertainty. It could even be argued that Levi’s whole life was built upon the premise that he hated himself seeing as how he was always looking for a way to improve. He would never admit to that though, his reasoning was because that’s how people should be, they should be looking to improve on themselves, to learn new things, and strive for something better. Those that didn’t, in Levi’s opinion, were unambitious and were better off doing the menial labour in life. Well, someone had to come pick up your rubbish and mop your floors, didn’t they.

“It doesn’t bother me either way, honey,” he told her. His voice suggested that he would shrug his shoulders, but he remained composed; hands in his pockets, shoulders straight, eyes dead-ahead. “You’re the one who suggested it though.”

Levi wasn’t aware that her threat about listing off her string of lovers was meant to be some kind of a joke. He couldn’t understand what was funny about that; not that he knew why it was supposed to be threatening or distasteful either. Did normal people cringe at the thought of other people having sex? Did they find it hilarious? It didn’t seem like they did. If anything, they were hungry for that knowledge, made evident in the types of entertainment which were going viral over the internet, TV and literature. Levi was predominantly unaware of what exactly was popular from one minute to the next. His limited time meant that the kind of news he had to absorb had to centre on what would affect business; were there any wars going on, any kind of environmental disasters, political debates, referendums, new laws being passed – that kind of ****. He didn’t need to know if Justen Bieber was trending or if Kim Kardashian was having another kid or if putting cats in shark costumes was a great idea – regardless of how funny it would be to do the reverse and dress Shiro in a cat costume… Actually, scratch that – that was getting beyond off-topic and sounded beyond weird. The last thing he needed was to draw correlations between sexiness, Shiro and cat costumes.

Seeking a distraction, Levi turned his attention to the heavens pursuing the diamond brightness of stars beyond the inky clouds. A rain speckled breeze stirred the ends of his clothing and ruffled his thick, dark hair. Even Levi was forced to draw his clothing closer to try and keep out the cold. While his body temperature was generally cooler than your average Human, he was still warmer than the chilling air around them. He could still perceive the cold too and since breathing was a habit, it wasn’t too difficult to fake his misting breath. All in all, with his natural cinnamon-coloured skin, Levi still looked Human too and more than that, he felt it. At this point though, Levi kind of wished he was more a polar bear than a ******* humanoid; he was used to warmer environments and even after eight months or so of being in Harper Rock, he still wasn’t quite acclimatised. A glance across to Valentina and he quickly became aware that he wasn’t the only one. He genuinely smiled at her – well, he smirked – then decided to strike up a conversation.

“So… You wanna play twenty questions or something? It might take our minds off the cold as we walk.”

“Well it doesn’t have to be twenty questions, that was just the first thing to come to mind,” he said casually. “But, if ya wanna know my name so badly, we have ourselves a first topic.”

Of course he was going to wait for her response before just cracking on with any other suggestions. Her amusement and snide comment – well, what Levi took to be snide – suggested that she thought this game was perhaps too juvenile and beneath her. Levi had never officially played the game known as ‘twenty questions’, but he always used the term to describe a sequence of enquiries and answers; that thing most people did when they were trying to learn something specific or just trying to get to know someone. He probably didn’t mean it as literally as she’d taken it, but since the card was on the table, he couldn’t just snatch it away. If Valentina didn’t want to play or didn’t want to talk, that was fine too. He could just as easily keep to himself and walk on like she didn’t exist. There was barely enough time as it was for him to consider everything he needed to, so a little more time to devote to his thoughts wouldn’t have been a bad thing for Levi. If she wasn’t interested in conversing though, one had to wonder why she was tagging along. There was the possibility that she was just interested in the money to be made from slipping her fingers into other peoples’ pockets, and if that was the case, Levi expected her to throw her nose in the air and leave the minute she caught sight of their true destination.

They were around a mile away from the tracks, meaning they had about twenty minutes to waste. Whether Valentina would leave immediately or continue to be in his shadow didn’t really matter to Levi; her decision wouldn’t put a damper on his plans. He had business to attend to, he wasn’t going there on leisure and frankly, Levi didn’t like to gamble all that much. He was too calculated to make gut decisions – unless emotionally or alcoholically inhibited that is. He’d had a couple of drinks, but not nearly enough to make him anything more than tipsy, and besides that, the cold air was quickly sobering him up. Levi was in the position to make normal, rational decisions and he was heading to the tracks because he had people to check up on. If he hadn’t been late to his meeting with Shiro tonight, he probably would have been discussing their new business acquisition from the Luen group of Hong Kong instead. Incidentally, if he hadn’t been bought that bottle of whisky from Valentina, he probably would have wasted the night drinking too. In a way, he owed his new proactivity to Valentina, so maybe he could stand to be nicer to her.

"Up to you, Isabeau."

Isabeau St Martin: Bo blinked for a moment as he stated that they didn't have to, then mentioned that they would have a good first topic. "More like a good first question..." She said offhandedly before glancing at him again when he said it was up to her. She rather liked the way he said her name but she didn't swoon like some child.

Levi D’Amico: “No, definitely a topic to ask questions on,” he said bluntly. “Ain’t that how you play the game?”

Isabeau St Martin: She smirked, "Oh, going old school, eh?" She nodded "Yes, that is how the game is played in traditional standards. However, with thousands of names to choose from twenty might not be enough questions."

Levi D’Amico: Levi smirked to himself. “You gonna keep chatting at me or are you going to start asking questions? Like you said, there’s thousands of names to choose from. Might take us some time.”

Isabeau St Martin: She nodded and smirked a bit. "Alright, wise guy, are you from Italy?"

Levi D’Amico: “What a waste of a question,” he laughed at her. “Si. Sono Italiano… Next question. Only nineteen to go.”

Isabeau St Martin: She rolled her eyes. "Which part of Italy?"

Levi D’Amico: “Verona.”

Isabeau St Martin: She sighed a little. "Verona... Fair Verona." She said and then glanced over at him. "How many letters in your first name?"

Levi D’Amico: Levi genuinely smiled at her. “Four.”

Isabeau St Martin: She nodded and bit down on her lower lip, thinking for a moment. "Is it a family name?"

Levi D’Amico: “No.”

Isabeau St Martin: "Is it popular?"

Levi D’Amico: “Nope,” he said, grinning. “Especially not the why mine’s pronounced.”

Isabeau St Martin: She arched her brow then smirked, "how is it pronounced?"

Levi D’Amico: Levi mirrored her expression. “I’m pretty sure I can’t answer that. Try again.”

Isabeau St Martin: "Had to give it a shot," she said with a slight laugh. "Does it start with a D?"

Levi D’Amico: “Nope. You got fourteen questions left.” Levi smirked to himself again. There weren’t even enough questions to address the letters of the alphabet. She was doomed.

Isabeau St Martin: She arched her brow and then nodded. "How about a G?"

Levi D’Amico: “Nope,” he said, eyes glancing down the street before making their way back to her. “I reckon you might need another strategy.”

Isabeau St Martin: She smirked as she looked at him. "Perhaps, but it is unlikely that your name starts with a vowel, especially given that most Italian names have two or more in them to begin with. And then only certain letters carry names that are unique in pronunciation. And the fact that you are telling me that I need a new strategy tells me I'm close. So how about L?"

Levi D’Amico: Levi’s umber eyes narrowed at her. He couldn’t necessarily deny her logic, but his name wasn’t Italian, so it failed to fit her hypothesis anyway. There weren’t any Italian male names that came to his head matching the current criteria; most of them were five letters and above. “It’s L,” he said casually nevertheless.

Isabeau St Martin: She arched her brow again and then nodded, once again thinking. She had to make sure it looked like a random guess not that she knew... "Is the last letter a consonant?"

Levi D’Amico: “Vowel,” he told her, still frowning. That meant it wasn’t Leon, Liam, Luis, or anything like that; narrowing things down further. She didn’t look so doomed anymore and Levi wasn’t too happy about that.

Isabeau St Martin: She nodded and pulled her coat tighter around her. "Is it Luca?"

Levi D’Amico: “That’s a ******* girl’s name,” he growled at her. “No, it’s not ******* Luca.”

Isabeau St Martin: She laughed and shook her head. "Luca, Lucas... I was tempted to say Luci... Short for Lucifer."

Levi D’Amico: Levi glared at her. “Wow… That’s what you think of me, huh? Charming…” Yes, because it was much worse to be named after the Devil than it was to be named after the Leviathan. Good logic, Levi.

Isabeau St Martin: She looked at him, not at all put off by his glare. "Well, glaring at me like you want to rip my head off doesn't help, but then again, Lucifer actually has a rather good meaning despite his fall from grace." She sighed then and shrugged. "How about Ludo?"

Levi D’Amico: “I ain’t Catholic or Christian, so I wouldn’t know,” he said offhandedly. “And no, it ain’t Ludo, either.”

Isabeau St Martin: She arched her brow sharply. "I thought Italy was a big Catholic area... Especially given the Vatican. However that said, Lucifer means bringer of light or something to that effect. I would said Liev but that doesn't end in a vowel... Lowe?"

Levi D’Amico: “Nope,” he said with a roll of his shoulders. “And there’s plenty of Jews in Italy, just fyi.”

Isabeau St Martin: Bo nodded for a moment and then looked at him. "It can't be Love..."

Levi D’Amico: “Ain’t nobody called me that and kept all their teeth,” he said with a smirk. “I’ve lost count of the questions you have left.”

Isabeau St Martin: She laughed and shook her head, "note to self, never call you love. Not that I'm one to use that sort of pet name for a guy anyways. Well there is only one other name I can think of... And it reminds me of a pair of pants... But you said the pronunciation was different... How do you pronounce Levi different?"

Levi D’Amico: Levi paused for a minute, growing a little impatient. It was weird how the brand of jeans triggered the recollection of the name, like the brand came first and the name came second. Where did people think the brand came from in the first place? Idiots. “There are at least three ways to pronounce it,” he said casually. “There’s Lee-vie, like your jean’s man, and then there’s the Jewish way, Leh-vee. And then, there’s my way, Leh-vie.”

Isabeau St Martin: She looked at him for a moment and then nodded "Levi..." She pronounced perfectly in a gentle tone, almost as if she were whispering it. "Not a bad name, I guess." She said normally shrugging a bit.

Levi D’Amico: “Yeah, at least it suits me,” he said with a wry grin, umber eyes regarding her carefully. “I guess that means it’s your turn to pose the next topic.”

Isabeau St Martin: She shrugged a bit. "I believe 'Bo' fits me..." She then thought for a moment before looking at him. "I really can't think of a topic that would be good for 20 questions that you would wish to talk about with a stranger."

Levi D’Amico: Levi frowned at her. “There’s gotta be a million different subjects. How about your job, your favourite colour, animal, vehicle… **** like that.” He rolled his shoulders impatiently. “But if you don’t wanna talk, that’s fine.” He reached for a cigarette then and by the time he got one balanced between his lips and was about to put the pack away, he remembered to be polite enough to offer her one.

Isabeau St Martin: She arched her brow a bit at his questions, and then nodded. "Call me nuts, I was under the impression we would be talking just about you. I didn't think you'd give a rat’s *** about anything I'm into," she said with another laugh then she took an offered cigarette and slipped it between her lips as well. "But if you're curious about those things, I guess the job one would give you the most challenge I believe."

Levi D’Amico: “Well, I do like a challenge,” he said with a grin before finally putting the packet of cigarettes away. “Alright –” he lit up his cigarette and passed the lighter to her “– do you work outside?”

Isabeau St Martin: She smirked at him and nodded. "I thought so," she said offhand before taking the lighter and lighting her cig, her head tilted a little, her neck bared for a moment to the chill of the night before she handed it back to him, careful not to show any interest in it. With a long drag, she glanced at him then gave a slight shake of her head, exhaling a, "nope."

Levi D’Amico: Levi might have been smirking to himself, but he doubted they were amused for the same reason. The reason he’d asked if she worked outside was because he was taking a chance on whether or not she was a prostitute. She didn’t necessarily dress like one, but that didn’t excuse her from his judgement. “Ok, so, do you work in an office?” he asked, pocketing his lighter.

Isabeau St Martin: She inhaled then once again exhaled a small, "nope... 18 to go."

Levi D’Amico: Levi’s brows knotted in a frown as he gave his next question some thought. He took a drag of his cigarette, savouring the warmth of the smoke in his lungs and reserving the exhale for when he had a question. “You self-employed?”

Isabeau St Martin: She glanced at him and smirked a bit. "Yes and no."

Levi D’Amico: Levi’s frown exaggerated. “How the **** does that work?”

Isabeau St Martin: She arched her brow then shrugged, exhaling more smoke into the cold night air. "Two jobs."

Levi D’Amico: “Ah,” he said immediately. Really, he knew something about how that worked. “That’s kind of cheating though. It’s not like you were trying to guess my both names.”

Isabeau St Martin: "I didn't know you wanted me to," she said with a soft laugh before she added. "But I guess you're right, I sell things I create through auctions for the yes... You still have to guess the no," she said, glad she had changed a bit since she would have been covered in a big clue had she come straight from the mall.

Levi D’Amico: “So for the employed job… Do you work in entertainment?”

Isabeau St Martin: Her brow arched and she eased the cigarette from her lips. "Do you find me entertaining?" She blew the smoke out to the side then continued. "No, I don't."

Levi D’Amico: Levi quirked a brow in return at her question, but he didn’t say anything. Besides, just because he didn’t like her brand of humour didn’t mean others couldn’t. People found stupid **** funny all the damn time. “How about education?” he asked, though he rather doubted she would come back with a yes.

Isabeau St Martin: She let out a bark of a laugh, "I barely finished High school..."

Levi D’Amico: Levi smirked with her. “At least you got to high school,” he encouraged. Her confession had given him a load of jobs to cross off his list though, and whittled the options down to physical labour or small retail jobs. “So, do you work with your hands?”

Isabeau St Martin: She nodded to his observation and then shrugged. “Yup."

Levi D’Amico: In his mind, that meant she didn’t work in retail, so he carried on that path with his subsequent question. “D’ya work in a Spa?”

Isabeau St Martin: She smirked with the cigarette in her mouth then pulled it away, breathing out the smoke. "Trying to figure out how good I am with my hands?" she teased.

Levi D’Amico: “Well,” he smirked, rolling his shoulders back. “It’s always good to know someone with that magic stress-relieving touch.”

Isabeau St Martin: "I know many ways to relieve stress," she said with a soft laugh then added, "I do believe you're down to ten."

Levi D’Amico: Levi took a long, quiet draw of his cigarette as she explained. When she said he had ten left, he was inclined to agree, which also meant that no, she did not work in a Spa. “So how about a Salon or something?”

Isabeau St Martin: She looked at him with a 'Really?' kind of look then sighed and shook her head. "Nope, nothing to do with beauty... It would be too tempting to stab people with scissors."

Levi D’Amico: He couldn’t help the brow which quirked at the mention of stabbing people with scissors. Isabeau really was a firecracker and it made him smirk. “Ok then… And while I feel like I’m wasting a question, I’ve gotta ask if you work in manufacturing.”

Isabeau St Martin: She laughed a bit. "Yup... That one was a little bit of a waste. No, I don't."

Levi D’Amico: “Yep, ******* knew it,” he groaned. “Now I just need to know if you’re building **** with your hands or taking it apart. Unless you’re an artist…” he paused to look her over again. “You’re not a ******* artist, are ya?”

Isabeau St Martin: She keeled over this time as she laughed, the cigarette shaking between her fingers as she did. Then she straightened and looked at him."I think technically some of that could be seen as a few questions, I'll let it slide though." She brought the cigarette to her lips, licking the lower one before it touched, she took a long drag and held the smoke for a moment more. "No, I'm not an artist, I do take things apart but I don't really see putting them back together as 'building' something."

Levi D’Amico: Was it that weird to ask someone if they were an artist or was it just the way he’d said it? Levi shrugged his shoulders at her performance, at his own curiosity and quietly smoked his cigarette as she explained. He was willing to have that count as three questions, it was only fair, but she was being really generous here so he was fine with that. When she said she took things apart, a light bulb when off in his head. There was no way on this green Earth that she was an engineer if she hadn’t gone through high school, so that meant she was a grease monkey. “So, cars or bikes?” he asked her with a grin on his face. He rather doubted she dealt with LCVs and anything larger.

Isabeau St Martin: She smirked. "Both."

Levi D’Amico: Levi nodded at her, finished his cigarette and chucked the butt into the street as they walked. “Prefer one over the other?” he asked, although he was pretty sure they were finished with the game for this moment in time.

Isabeau St Martin: She finished her cigarette about the same time, but waited until they passed a trash can before she tossed the spent and now almost frozen butt into it. "Cars. Bikes are almost too simple. Plus I race cars, so it's good to know what I have under my hood."

Levi D’Amico: “That’s interesting,” he said. His tone was a little dull, but, he was interested. “I don’t even have a licence, so…”

Isabeau St Martin: She glanced over at him, eyeing him up and down again before she shrugged. "I suppose this city is a lot like New York, I guess, with it being so small. Walking isn't a bad option. Well unless it’s ******* cold like tonight," she said as she shivered and pulled her jacket closer.

Levi D’Amico: Levi shrugged his shoulders at her observation. “I get where I need to go just fine.” He neglected to mention that it usually involved someone driving him around, or, more lately, that he was using this weird tome thing to get him about. He still didn’t understand the way it worked, but the results were worth neglecting that need of knowledge as he could teleport miles and miles around within a blink of an eye. “Driving’s more recreational to me and I don’t got a lot of time for recreation.”

Isabeau St Martin: She arched her brow for a moment. “Shall we continue on with our game or will you actually make it easy on me and just tell me what you do that keeps you from this recreation?" she asked with a mild tone, a cross between amusement and disbelief.

Levi D’Amico: “I do a lot,” he said plainly and he paused like he wasn’t going to expand on that comment. “I run a few companies that manage B2B operations. Nothing fancy, but it pays well.”

Isabeau St Martin: She nodded and then glanced at him again. "Here I prove my lack of education, B2B?"

Levi D’Amico: Levi gave her a deadpan look. “Business to business,” he said. “I don’t sell things to or deal with the general public, basically. Though I do work B2B2C.” He laughed a little then, figuring she wouldn’t understand that either. “Ya know, meaning I sell to businesses who sell to customers.”

Isabeau St Martin: Her mouth did a little silent 'ahh' as she gave a slow nod of her head and then asked, “what sort of things? Or is that too personal?"

Levi D’Amico: He shrugged his shoulders, what was the point in having set up a ‘legitimate’ business if he didn’t want to talk about it? “I head a logistics and consultancy firm. They’re separate business, just fyi.”

Isabeau St Martin: She nodded again. "Interesting," she said softly. "What kind of consultation?"

Levi D’Amico: Levi gave a roll of his shoulders, appreciating the fact that she’d asked about that business rather than about what he was shifting around because that would have been a little more difficult to talk about. “A lot of different things, really. Waste management, finances, strategies, penetration, IT and software… logistics. All really boring, boring stuff.”

Isabeau St Martin: Her brow rose sharply and a wicked smirk came to her lips. "Penetration? Really?" she asked while trying not to snicker.

Levi D’Amico: Her amusement caused him to smirk to himself. “Yep. Ain’t you the only person in the world to snicker at that word choice,” he teased. The fact was, everyone must have had one moment in their life where their mind would go straight to the gutter on that.

Isabeau St Martin: She nodded and then shrugged. "Well consultations on penetration just screams 'sex therapist' or at very least 'sex teacher’," she said with another smirk. "It's about as silver platter of gutter talk as you can get without just going straight out with 'I teach screwing!'"

Levi D’Amico: He had never really considered her observation before, probably because when it came to business, Levi was all work and no play. Since he was on his way to work though, he could probably afford to loosen up a little. “I would probably teach that too if I weren’t up to my neck in everything else,” he said with a very brazen smile.

Isabeau St Martin: Her head tilted and that wicked smirk came back to her face as she looked at him, her eyes glancing down for a moment before she nodded. "Think you're that good hmmm?" she challenged.

Levi D’Amico: Levi, still smiling, decided to shrug his shoulders again. “I’m pretty much amazing at anything I try,” he said in a straight, serious tone. He was serious, he was arrogant, he wasn’t entirely wrong either.

Isabeau St Martin: That brow of hers rose one more time and she looked at him squarely for a moment. "Man, and I thought I was arrogant," she deadpanned though there was a smirk on her face. "So shall we continue with the game or do you have something else in mind with all this talk of penetration?" she asked with a soft laugh.

Levi D’Amico: He was going to run through his typical line about it not being arrogance if it was true, but inevitably decided against it, especially when she changed the subject. “Hey, you’re the one who brought it up,” he stressed, though obviously the statement only worked to keep their innuendos going. “So, it’s up to you to take responsibility or… we can pretend to ignore the elephant trunk in the room.”

Isabeau St Martin: "Oh? Did I now?" she asked, again looked down at his pants for a moment before she smirked and shook her head. Then she caught his next words and gave a soft laugh. "Elephant trunk huh? Does that mean you can grab things with it? Or do you really expect me to believe you're a tripod?" she asked with that amused smile on her face that felt so alien on her face, her cheeks were actually starting to hurt.

Levi D’Amico: Levi followed her line of sight as she seemed to deny the fact that she was the one who started it, and wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel amused or not by the fact that she was basically checking to see if anything in particular could be made out from his pants leg. He was wearing briefs, not going commando, and the black trousers obscured a lot in the dark anyhow – she wasn’t going to see anything even if she was seriously looking. Levi just smirked to himself as she went on, making a further show of her doubt as all the while he just stared up at the stars and continued to smile. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said then, umber eyes looking over at her blues. “Not far off, but not that far,” he added with a cheeky wink. “And, ya know, I’m kinda on the fence as to whether I should be flattered or kinda creeped out by the fact that you’re really this enthusiastic about my ****. I mean, wow. I must be real good looking to you.”

Isabeau St Martin: She met his gaze, the amusement there as she let her smirk ease away. "Well, you are the one making yourself out to be a beast in the sack," she said with amusement and then added, "and I told you I thought you were, you chose not to believe me," she said with a shrug as she once more met his gaze.

Levi D’Amico: Levi’s smirk shifted into more of a wry grin as he considered her words. Of course he thought he was the best thing in the world, so, it shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise when someone agreed with him very loosely. It sort of did though, but Levi just shrugged it off. “Well, I dunno I said that in all those words,” he commented – Bostonian accent layering quite thickly. “But you take it how you want and maybe, I will prove you wrong, maybe I’ll prove me right.”

Isabeau St Martin: "So I may have summed up," she said with a smirk and added with amusement. "Or maybe you'll prove yourself wrong." The challenge was slight, but there until she noticed the change in his accent. When they had started talking it had been his Italian one, now it was a Boston one. "Hey, I thought you were from Italy?" She mentioned with curiosity coloring her tone.

Levi D’Amico: “I am,” he said with a sudden frown and a sudden lowering of his voice.

Isabeau St Martin: She watched him still. "Then what is with the accent change? That doesn't sound Italian."

Levi D’Amico: “Sounds Italian-American,” he commented. “Which is what, I guess, you could say about me. I was born in Verona. Lived there until I was eleven. Then we emigrated to Boston. What’s your point?” He sounded quite defensive.

Isabeau St Martin: She looked at him, noting the defensiveness. "It was just curious to me, I'll drop it..." she said dismissively before looking around. "Are we lost?"

Levi D’Amico: Levi’s focus shifted from Isabeau to their surroundings. Although she was willing to drop the subject, it was going to take a little time before he would calm down. He was easy to provoke and none too easy to appease, so when he spoke, he was still wearing the frown and the low voice. “No. We’re close actually. Just around the corner from here is the tracks. I take it you don’t know this part of town.” They’d walked through Redwood toward Stag Heath where the city’s opulence could best be described as lacking. It was in these run-down areas that people with nothing else to lose would go and, inevitably, lose. It probably wasn’t the best place he could take a girl, but then again, they weren’t exactly on a date.

Isabeau St Martin: His tone said it all he was still on the defense so she would have to be careful how she proceeded. She knew this part of town quite well since she lived in it, but she didn't say anything, she just glanced around to get her bearings for a moment. Once she did, she glanced back over at him. "Oh so we're hitting the Italian hounds not the Italian stallions," she said in hopes of easing his mood a little.

Levi D’Amico: Levi gave her a sharp glance. “That’s racist,” he said gruffly, still full of seriousness, but under that legendary poker face of his he was smiling. “******* French,” he grumbled on, letting his poker face slip to show his amusement. “Always so ******* rude.”

Isabeau St Martin: She shrugged as she looked over at him. "It is also amusing," came her reply, her French accent thicker for a moment before she rolled her eyes. "And rude we may be, but we are hellions in the sack." She added with a very slight smirk.

Levi D’Amico: Levi quirked a brow at her boasting. “Yeah, yeah, princess. Whatever you say. I expect to be able to call you on that though and have you prove it.”

Isabeau St Martin: "Oh do you now? And who says I'll let you into my pants?" she asked, her tone serious, but her blue eyes lighting with amusement. "Even if you are hung like an Italian Stallion."

Levi D’Amico: Levi shrugged his shoulders rather casually, watching her expressions carefully. “I figure we both got something to prove, so, why not?”

Isabeau St Martin: Her brow arched and she turned the full power of her blue eyes on him. "I may be a *****, I may think you good looking, but cheré I'm far from easy," She said with a slight smirk.

Levi D’Amico: “I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” he said leisurely, his eyes flickering from her to the road.

Isabeau St Martin: "Says the man offering a quick **** so he can prove something," she teased as she glanced at the street then back at him.

Levi D’Amico: “Well, if you make a claim, you’d better be willing to prove it. Ain’t that what they say?” he said, raising a brow to examine her reaction. “Besides, I ain’t at all shy about *******. It’s having the time and the energy to **** which is my problem.” He was being a bit overly revealing here, but he assumed Isabeau was mature enough to handle this conversation between one man and one woman.

Isabeau St Martin: She nodded and smirked just a bit. "I never said I wouldn't or couldn't prove it. I can quite easily. I just said I and it wouldn't be easy."

Levi D’Amico: Levi nodded, but didn’t comment immediately. His focus shifted from their conversation to their surroundings as they came around the corner of some street and entered into another. The track was right ahead of them, unmissable, one large arena in the middle of slums, warehouses, casinos and pawn shops. Levi was used to this kind of unassuming, dejected little world. Levi walked right up to the large archways that represented the entrance and decided to light up another cigarette, offering Isabeau one yet again.

Isabeau St Martin: She followed alongside him to the entrance, glancing around once more before looking at him and smirking, this time shaking her head a little. "Thanks, but I'm good," She said, two was usually her limit in a week, let alone the same night.

Levi D’Amico: Levi shrugged his shoulders and returned the packet; not that it would be there long. For someone who was as obstinate about a health routine as he was, he could sure smoke his way through a packet of cigarettes in a single night – or just a couple of hours if things were really bad. Lit up and relaxing, Levi looked in toward the arena where the sounds of cheering and whooping and yelling could be heard, playing over the mechanical hum of the commentator coming over the speaker. “So, before I lose you in there to deep pockets, do you fancy giving me your number?” he asked, looking back at her over his cigarette.

Isabeau St Martin: Bo watched him for a minute before the sounds of the crowd made her give her surroundings a good once and twice over. Checking for weapons, watching people place cellphones and watches and all sorts of things in their pockets. Then her head snapped back to Levi and she smiled an amused smile. "Oh I'm sure I wouldn't be that hard for you to find, but if you want my number, mind if I see your phone?" she asked, one brow arched.

Levi D’Amico:Deft hands made a reach for the phone secured in his inside breast pocket – the opposite side in which he kept his cigarettes because all of the important things remained close to his heart. Levi gave her a smirk as he clicked the phone on and began wiping away the missed phone calls and text messages. “If you think I’m just gonna hand my phone over to a self-confessed thief, think again. Just call out your digits, sweetheart.”

Isabeau St Martin: Bo watched as he went for his phone and for a moment held out her hand until he called her on what she had told him earlier. She smirked and slipped her hands into her pockets, stepping closer so that she was once more in his personal space so that she could whisper the number of her hacked phone, not the one her father had given her. Then she stepped back and smirked. "If you think I'd just announce my number out in the open where any of these pervs could listen in, you must think I'm really stupid," she said with a teasing tone and amusement in her eyes.

Levi D’Amico: Levi shrugged his shoulders as he typed in the digits she’d conveyed in a hushed tone; cigarette held between his lips since he apparently needed both hands to type. “It really doesn’t matter to me if these fuckers hear you. That’s your problem,” he said in a low voice. Once it was inputted into his phone, he filed it under the contact Bo/Valentina and smirked to himself again before giving the number a ring. She would be able to trace his phone number from there, but if she was a skilled hacker she would quickly find that there wasn’t much to trace. He let the phone ring once before cancelling the call and returning his phone to its rightful place. He looked over to her then, faint curiosity showing in his umber eyes. “D’you gamble much?”

Isabeau St Martin: Bo rolled her eyes, it was her problem, she didn't want some Joe Shmoe calling her up for a booty call. Her butt didn't take calls, but as she thought that she caught what he had set her detail too and again rolled her eyes before feeling the vibration of the silent phone against her tattooed hip bone. She didn't even bother making a reach for it, the number she gave him was basically unknown, practically a burner phone. His next question made her smirk a bit. "Every ******* day." She gambled whenever she went into a building to rob it, she gambled when she raced her cars, she gambled when she would kill cops that stopped her from moving about the slums the gangs had control of.

Levi D’Amico: Levi frowned to her, flicking the ashes of his cigarette to the floor and watching them fall briefly. “You’ve made some serious nasty habits,” he told her, grinning lightly. The irony was amusing, but he wasn’t going to linger on it. He checked his watch again – half surprised that it was still there, but figured he would be more surprised if it hadn’t been – then he gave her a nod. “Best get to work then,” he said casually. “Coming?”

Isabeau St Martin: She snorted at him. "So sayith the chain smoker,"[/b] she teased before she watched him check the time, her criminal mind marking where everything of value he had shown her was. The cell phone, the watch, the cigarettes, even his wallet she had tabs on. Of course trying to take them now would be pointless and stupid, but she was tempted to slip that watch from his wrist just to show she could. But that would be a stupid move. She was pulled from her thoughts as she looked up at him. "Sure, why not?"

Levi D’Amico: The comment about his smoking habit was easily dismissed – he already knew he had a problem and it didn’t need to be examined. He only warmed when she agreed to come with him, though for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why exactly he was letting her tag along. It was like she was some weird stray he’d picked up and couldn’t be arsed to get rid of. Levi shrugged his shoulders, stubbing his cigarette out on one of the waist-high bollards that was fixed to the ground to stop people from just driving on through those large arches. He’d smoked about ¾ of his cigarette, so wasn’t exactly keen to hold onto the final quarter. He left the smouldering stub on top of the bollard and started walking. Nobody stopped them on their entrance, but they were eyed up by the security men on their way inside. There were men like that dotted about the entire building in addition to CCTV cameras, suggesting that despite the lacking affluence of the surrounding streets, there was a lot of money here.

Isabeau St Martin: She moved with ease, letting him take the lead, but by no means acting as a subservient woman. As soon as they had cleared the security, she was back at his side, matching his pace and stride despite being shorter than him. The chain she wore attached to her pants making the faintest of jiggling as she moved through the crowd. She was once again checking the surroundings, almost as if she were waiting for someone to attack. Her hand in her pocket had brass knuckles on her currently, but could easily be left in the pocket if need be. "So were you planning to bet on a hound or were you just curious of my many vices?"