Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20161216022828/@comment-5999656-20161216211248

Zan scrolled mindlessly through the news feed on her Scroll as she alternated with sips from her mocha. None of this public information was captivating to her, not when she'd once been privy to the identities and inner workings of some of the strongest individuals in Vale. She stowed the device back into her jacket pocket and contemplated asking Tez if he wanted to hang out with her - after all, her right hand man had been subject to the same demotion as she'd been, once her parents had returned and shuffled around the power play so it suited them.

Instead, her attention was caught by a vaguely familiar-looking young man at a table in front of her who had risen from his seat. He wasn't unattractive, Zan noted, although she couldn't say she approved of his fashion choices. That patchwork scarf clashed horribly with his smart white shirt.

Patchwork...

Zan thought back to the confrontation with the one faction which had had the guts to challenge her authority as a Dragon. That had been a supremely uncomfortable confrontation, and had cost her no small amount of respect in the eyes of her fellow Heads. Of course, there was no evidence to support that this man had anything to do with it, given how unique most Hunters' fashion senses were. But given that she didn't have anything better to do at the moment, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to pursue him? Even if it turned out to be nothing, she would at least have made another acquaintance, and killed some time while at it.

She kept ogling his scarf, though. Something about its specific pattern seemed familiar, even if she didn't recognize his face. No harm in asking, right? The thought of the clever, conniving leader of the formidable Patched faction, quietly drinking coffee as though he were another sheeple of Vale, was too funny to even be considered. Then again... what was a Dragon Head doing in a place like this?

Let's get to the bottom of this mystery.

Zanipher left her half-finished drink on the table in case the guy wasn't going to be interested in her. It was annoying when you got up to do something, just to see that someone had taken your spot while you were gone. Already she could see a young couple eyeing her table. So she rose quickly and went up to where Diaboli was examining the menu overhead.

"Their brambleberry is very good, if you're not really into caffeine," she offered. Up close he looked even more familiar. Hopefully he would remember her too, and they could work together to recall where it was that they had met.