The way this girl acted, Mark could have sworn she was the quiet shy type. Was that a blush? Looked like a blush. Strange as she was, she was definitely cute. But was this a good idea to be flirting with her and getting her all hot and bothered? Probably not. Wouldn't be the first time he's made a bad decision like this, though.

The desire to have a few tips had him nod his head, tapping the counter a few times before nodding. "I'll be sure to swing by in a few days then to offer up what I know. Couldn't help to be overprepared." Truth of it was, not many people in Japan knew about firearms, and as much as he stressed gun safety making ammunition was just as dangerous. There were a few times in his childhood where him and his brother hand singed their eyebrows doing stupid stuff with black powder and other explosive materials, so passing that information on would be a godsend for her. At least when it came to loading up the cartridge. Everything else was going to be on her to figure out.

Tabitha Yamamura

Lone Wolf, appearances aside, was perceptive enough to know Jason was that much more susceptible to heat compared to most other students. He didn't quite understand the how or why, but he made it a habit in his career to not question why the brown cow that ate green grass produced the white milk that turned into yellow butter. There were principles in this world, and so long as he knew what those principles were followed there was a way to predict how things would turn out.

Hence a large reason why he was forcing Jason into this mess in the first place. Mark knew that situations like this might end up happening, which could lead to bad things happening. While many might call this situation uncontrolled, it was leagues more controlled than out on the streets every day. Thankfully, the concoction that Mark had used was made up of predominantly gasoline, so there was less of a chance of those inside having shrapnel or concussive injuries was low. That said, anything that could catch fire was on fire, and that would definitely be the case in the small office on the second floor. Clearly this was where the manager did the work keeping the books, and a dummy would be sitting in a chair with the desk and papers all around it all on fire, flames threatening to lick away at the "civilian's" clothing.

Kupo

Mark couldn't help but roll his eyes, a slight smirk on his face as he shifted his hand to a new spot. "Guess that's what I get for making a joke," he says, shutting himself off to her memories. The monitors would go back to normal activity, though has his fingers ran over another person there would be a spike in the perception portion of his brain. "You know, you probably don't have a good case. You asked me to use my quirk, and I used my quirk. I've done less training with it compared to other, more practical skills, but I can tell you have some level of interest in it. You might be missing an opportunity to ask whatever you want about it, because we both know I'm not exactly peppy when it comes to talking about quirks."

The spike would fade once he reached for the apple, taking a bite out of it as he crossed on leg over the other. "Maybe you can help me figure out if there's more to it." Despite being hesitant, he seemed ready to continue. Assuming she didn't yeet him out first.

Iphigenia Pavlina

He nodded, though he wasn't expecting such a straightforward answer. Then again, his brand of humor was something that not many people could latch onto, and was normally taken at face value. That was fine, he could work with that. He couldn't help but look over to see what exactly she was scribbling down, only to find she was trying to get his questions verbatim. The last one got a grin out of him. "So what you're telling me is you hang out at the beaches and piers often?" Unprofessional? Absolutely. But he was committed to the gear switch now, he just had to find the right tempo to not make things weird. "You do have my number now, unless you're the type to not mix business with pleasure."

After a moment he would direct a thumb at the door, figuring that if he stayed any longer he might end up breaking something. "Though if you want I can go ahead and leave, come back in, what, a week? Two? Check in on progress and all that? Maybe two, since there might be a few tools you gotta put on order." A pause as he thought for a moment or two. "Unless you want a few tips how to clean and prep casings. Stuff like that was more lax at home than here, and I know the basics at least." And now he was straddling the line.

Tabitha Yamamura

Mark wouldn't bother interrupting the rest of the song, and the bartender would also spend little to no time on him after the reassurance. At least a small one. The crowd wasn't as rowdy as he was anticipating, which was good. Mark had been in his fair share of bar brawls, and each time he always came out bruised and bloody as much as the other guys. It was why it paid to have leverage.

Once the song wrapped up and people started to move around he picked up his half-finished beer and made his way over to the gaggle as Dante was swarmed by bikers, not in an aggressive way but wanting him to play at their usual hangout. "'Scuse me, gentlemen," he says, intending to put a hand on Dante's shoulder. "This right here is a top-notch musician that unfortunately none of you boys can afford. Pianoman, think you can spare at least five minutes? Gotta talk with you real quick. I'll even buy you a beer." Mark was 100% playing with fire, but fire was something he was used to when it came to Dante. As much as he hated sounding like a broken record, there was just a few things he needed to emphasis to him.

Dante

He raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure if that was foreboding or what. Most of the faculty to Mark was strange, and clearly his ideas and experiences were vastly different than everyone else's. The closest person to him was probably Dauntless, and that was because of the shared language between them. He wasn't sure how this stuff worked, but he didn't exactly want to take Iphi at face value.

"As you wish," he says, setting the apple down before taking a seat, fingertips raking across the surface of the table in a casual manner. It looked natural, but he was establishing that she had interacted with the table beforehand. Sure enough, her face was there alone with a few others, assistants to ensure that everything was set up prior to his arrival. He'd shut the link down as he reached for the headband, strapping it on before reaching for the armband. "Fair warning, I don't have precise control over this, so there might be some things I say that might be weird to you. You like weird, right?" This was a lie, but she didn't need to know that, right? He couldn't start out with the quirk, no, he had to show that he was capable without it.

"Alright, let's see...I know you're a workaholic." He reaches up, pressing two fingers against his head. There would be no abnormal spikes in brain activity, and no other evidence to show he was engaging his quirk. "I see you clacking away at your desk well before I get in...and that's not counting the work you've done at your agency first. You're in well after I get done, like super late. Burning the candle at both ends is a little unhealthy." A pause, his brow furrowing. "You were doing some number crunching yesterday. You got your hands on a dataset and discussing standard deviations yesterday." He was walking a fine line, and he knew it. If she called him out on it there was always his ace in the hole.

Iphigenia Pavlina

He paused a little. This was becoming less of a professional conversation, and more of a casual one. At least, it was starting to take that turn. He wasn't sure how to take that, but time would tell. "<He's younger,>" he says, taking on a more somber tone. "<If it's alright with you, I don't want to discuss him too much. Unless you've heard anything about his whereabouts, in which case I'm all ears.>" And maybe that would be all that. He hoped.

As the world went more to normal Mark would begin to reach for the Carry, glancing up and around for the spirits. They were lacking from his vision, but that didn't mean that they weren't there anymore. Creepy. "<Thanks,>" he says, returning it to it's holster. <"The rifle itself is maybe...fifty years old? It's a replica of an old world war design, something the Marines used during their campaign across the Pacific. Not as sexy as some other designs, but I've been shooting it for years. Don't get to use it outside of classes these days, but at the same time it's also hard to work around Japanese laws regarding guns.>"

Tabitha Yamamura