[b]Dylan Stroud[/b]

The playful smile dancing upon Dylan’s face went slack at the spectacle. For the briefest of moments there was a frown upon his face, and his eyes might have narrowed. It happened so quickly, it may not have been there at all; now, once again, it was so perfectly composed and under control that the falter absolutely must have just been a trick of the mind, surely.  

Quite deliberately, he ran fingers through the mop of hair. All his awe was genuine.

“My dear,” Dylan began, his eyes flitting between napkin and woman, “You have indulged me too! Throughout my long years, I’ve never been quite so impressed by magic.” Runes were unfamiliar to him, and he knew he would be unable to recall them from such a fleeting glance. “Can you use it on people? I may not need use handcuffs ever again.” This came with a wry smile.

He raised a hand gingerly, as if the napkin might bite. With the same slender digit that he had rapped upon the bar, he pressed gently into the napkin. It felt like, almost disappointingly, a napkin - gauzy paper, almost furry with slight moisture - yet it did not budge. A little more force was applied. Still nothing. The finger withdrew.

After finishing his drink and gesturing for another, Dylan spent a moment reappraising the woman. It was plain for all to see she was unique, but to what extent, he was only beginning to realise. 

The blue light on her skin was mesmerising, and he had caught himself reaching out to touch the glowing runes. The hand returned to his knee.

“Truly, there is a beauty in the craft of such magic I had heretofore feared,” He locked eyes with her, “You are giving me second thoughts; a true pioneer [i]indeed[/i]. I wonder what other secrets you are privy too,” His toothy grin was back. With cat-like languor, he leaned upon the bar.

Slender hands made an elaborate gesture to the heavens. “But the [i]Gods[/i] you say? I searched for mine many a year, and never found them,” an eyebrow arched and a thin smile played at the edge of his lips, the blue lights still dancing in and enhancing his eyes, “I thought most magically inclined folk had forsaken gods, how comes you are so different, [i]my muse[/i]?” He rested a finger on pursed lips as he awaited a response.