a world ғυll oғ lιarѕ.

     Trevor takes a small step off to the side, eyes narrowed at the dragon in front of him. If there was one thing he expected to happen today -- well, he never would have expected this. He bares his teeth slightly as a growl begins to form in his throat, hair standing up on his back. Calm down. Just stay calm.

               ❝ is anyone sitting here? ❞

 ' Hm?         No -- I don't think so. '

     The guy doesn’t even detect sarcasm. What a dumbass.       And Johnny can’t just forgive him, people not recognizing       him hurts his ego really badly.                 ”—— ‘Course I caught on fire! I’m Johnny Storm!                 Haven’t you heard of me?”

   ' Johnny Storm? ' He honestly has no clue who this guy is. All he knows so far is that he has the ability to catch on fire, and he no idea how or why. But if he said he wasn't curious now then he would be lying to himself.               ' ...So, you do catch on fire. Please explain. '

     "Hmm? Oh! Oh God no man, my hand did         not catch on fire! What kind of awesome person         would have the powers to burst out in flames          in NYC, huh? Totally not me." 

     He goes silent for several moments, studying his facial expression      and trying to figure out if he's lying or not. Trevor decides that he is      lying, but he doesn't pry.            ' Yeah, alright. So you didn't catch on fire? At all? '

you have a type

           ”…What do you want?”

     "Nothing. I'm just wondering why you're in a bar of all places."

                   Self-deprecation is my thing, okay? You’re a — you’re the real hero here, alright? Nevermind the Avengers and the FF and the X-Men and the — look. You guys — the firefighters and the police officers and all of you — are the real heroes. Forget not having web-shooters! You’re able to work within the law and do an even better job than me. Plus web-shooters are expensive, so…

[ confusion washes over Trevor when the he speaks to him. What's with this guy? He's so... nice. He really didn't expect him to be like this. His lips curve upwards in a smile and he slides his hands into his pockets, shaking his head as well. ]               Thanks -- but why are you saying all of this? You don't know me. You don't -- you don't know what I am.

    “Oooh, so you want it to be a date?” he purrs, catching Trevor in a carefully spun web. He laughs, and then glances at his car. “That can be done — I’ll pay, and everything. And I’ve got the perfect place in mind. Now, if you’ll just hop in the passenger seat, Trevor, we can be on our way.”

   Ah, shit. He just pointed it out. Quick, do you go along with it or act embarrassed? Go with the first option, Trevor. "Yeah, a date. Dinner sounds too... professional. I doubt this is going to be anything but professional," he replies with a small smirk as he walks past him and hops into the passenger seat of the car, heart hammering away inside of his chest.

    “Risky is my middle name,” he purrs (there is more truth to those words than the heir cares to admit). “Although, if you think about it, you’d be the one being risky if you said yes. After all, you don’t know who I am, or why you got sent to collect me. Ah, but you do know that your little errand was canceled, and probably because I’m not at all that risky. Which means that going out to dinner would, in fact, not be that risky at all.”     Yes, he is running in circles, spinning a web of words with his charming smile and smooth tongue; after all, why can’t he have a little fun? 

   "You have a way with words, Elliot," he murmurs as a sly grin appears on his lips, eyes lidded in a lazy manner. What could be so wrong about saying no? True, he didn't know this guy. But wasn't that point when you go out to dinner with someone? To try and get to know them? But, if this guy really was looking for trouble he knew how to protect himself. He always had his last resort -- to unleash the animal inside -- but he highly doubted he would have to pull a stunt like that.             "One date. You're paying." Did he just use the word date? Oops.

     Trying my best as well. But you know, things happen. I'm a cop, you're Spiderman. I don't have fancy web to assist me. I got a badge and a car that can only go so fast, and can only go certain directions.      [ A quiet sigh passes his lips and he grins slightly. ]   So, yeah. I'm trying.

[ ❂ ]      ❝something reckless.❞ now he’s confused— and concerned.

     "Yeah. Reckless." Should he tell him? No. He can't. It doesn't matter what kind of things this guy has seen -- there's no way he can reveal to him that he's a werewolf. There's no telling what he would do to him if he did.

   He offers what is almost a look of sympathy, before chuckling in relief. “No? Oh, perfect.” Smirking, he unlocks his car; they probably figured out that Elliot’s record is clean. Cleaner than clean. After all, there’s nothing a little money and a few corrupt cops can’t fix.    Despite the police thing —  Elliot is never one to miss a beat. This guy looks like a god — maybe he won’t go with him to a police station, but there’s definitely a few other places he’d like to go with him.     “Dinner?” he asks suddenly, smirking cockily, as if he already knows the answer.

   He was just about to leave when that short question rang in his ears. His posture completely still and his eyes look Elliot up and down a few times, trying to decide whether he's serious. By the guy's thoughts he seems pretty damn serious about 'dinner'. His heart races and he turns to face him.   Instead of just agreeing to go out to dinner with him, he folds his arms over his chest and cants his head off to the side. "I just tried to take you to a police station and now you're asking me out to dinner? Do you know how risky that is, Jackson?"