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Zyrid bent his legs, leaning his back into an arched stretch before he found himself sat upon an identical stool to the one Alex sat upon. The stool shivered once and then lay dormant, for this stool was his mimic companion, and of course a comfy seat. He rolled up his sleeves delicately, turning the leather and silk in the same motion, leaving a slight trim of silk at his elbow when he finished. Sipping once more from his glass, he felt the drink seep through his body and caused his eyes to flare once more. 

At that Zyrid let out a great sigh of relief and push back his hair behind his ears. It had been a long while since he indulged on such mortal treasures as this, and a little while longer since he had a proper conversation with anyone but himself or a book. There are some books that can hold interesting conversation, though their enchanted nature proves to be a rigid master, leaving their responses repetitive and frustrating with time.

However, he had high hopes for this one sat opposite him, she seemed to be different. Though, admittedly, most material dwelling planoids are a unique variation in some manner. It was the internal flame of magic that interested him, suppressed but all the more powerful. Of course, it did not compare to the Gods or Zyrid himself, but those were tall orders indeed. He would be sure to uncover the source at whatever cost.
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"So, Alex, tell me abut yourself."[/color]

Zyrid smiled complacently and looked almost to temper his drinking glass as he tapped his ring finger against it over and over, he looked into the females eyes and then at the space around him and then at his drink, switching focus so at not to seem rude. Eyes were important conveyors of interest and thus emotion. He was undoubtedly interested in her life story, in everyone's really, but he knew from personal experience that staring at someone is not the way to go about getting answers.