Oh, so this girl wasn't a reporter. That calmed Phoebe significantly. She was another magic-user, too, as evident from the summoning of a strange blue flower. Phoebe accepted it, a bit wary at first, but after seeing the flower was just a flower, and not some sort of spell in disguise (spells had a certain "aura" to them that even normal people can pick up. A spell object always seems...suspicious.) she carefully placed it on the table, making sure not to harm the petals. 

The lady--Sonja--came from St. Louis, and freely gave out her real name. That was rare. Then again, Phoebe felt like she might have seen her on TV. She must be one of the vigilantes who don't keep an alter ego. There was something about her personality that made Phoebe relax. She reminded her of her grandfather, a natural people person, who could make anybody feel good. Those people are rare. 

"Yeah, it's hard to find Chicago-style anything in Texas. Must be the distance." Phoebe mused, taking a quick bite while she pondered over Sonja's next question, "Uh, I guess my area's chants. All my magic comes from really long ceremonies with lots of words. My spells are over different stuff, and I can hear and see all sorts of new things. Can't seem to pick up elemental magic, though. God knows I've tried. Never done any necromantic stuff, for moral reasons." 

"So, what about you, Spirit of St. Louis?" Phoebe asked, "Is your magic based on St. Louis?"