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A man who did not care what others thought. How novel. Whitney sipped at his drink, the level already close to the bottom half of the glass. He watched with neutral eyes as the man waved away the bartender. So he did not intend to get drunk tonight. That was a bit of a relief. In all his past dealings with people, drunk people were the worst. Perhaps it had something to do with them not being able to keep their hands and words to themselves. He 'hmmed' casually, his hand tapping the side of the glass. The next comment however - “I already shared drinks and a cigarette. What I do for fun, though, I don’t think is applicable to you,” - made him flush faintly.

He knew damn well what the man was referring to and to be perfectly honest he was not comfortable with anything those words implied. "Well then, find someone else who it is applicable to," Whitney snapped, his embarassment forcing him to be both rude and harsh. The response was purely instinctual. He hated the fact that his pale skin would be forever doomed to revealing emotions he did not particularly want to. Part of him almost wished he had stayed with his human family long enough to learn how to control himself better. But it was only a small part.

Whitney frowned at the man. "Excuse me for having an accident. And you make it sound like I'd be interested in you or something. That is not the case I can assure you. And as for sniffing around you....I listen to the rumours and extrapolate the truth from that. I do not go around stalking you." He tapped out a rhythm on the bar, a simple set of notes that repeated itself over and over.

He was annoyed the man seemed to think he mattered so much Whitney would bother spending more time than necessary on him. Whitney was simply intelligent enough to work out things for himself. Deliberately, he ignored the stares he was garnering from people around them, their attention caught by Myobu's expansive wave. That was more attention that Whitney felt comfortable with, and he shifted a little, putting on a disinterested expression.

Whitney was startled into laughter. It was quickly smothered but while in the midst of his visible amusement, his eyes sparkled with emotions and his slight body shook a little. "You think..." he could not seem to finish his sentence.

He took a hold of his drink and practically inhaled the liquid inside. Putting it down, he looked at Myobu with the first carefree grin he displayed that night. "You think that everyday people just spread these rumours around about BPSA, current and ex members? Do you think the BPSA would honestly allow us that much freedom?"

He did not wait for Myobu to answer. "The people I hear these rumours from are true devotees. And they are not just the usual tech users. They - that includes me - know how to keep secrets, very secret." He grinned again. "Wanna know what else people are saying about you?" It was pride mainly that made him speak this way. There was nothing about himself that Whitney was proud of that was not eclipsed by his confidence in his computer skills. His onmyouji abilities came a far second. Hacking was the one thing he did not have taught to him by someone else and he spent the majority of his life refining that skill.

His fingers once again began tapping a staccato rhythm, this time on his right cheek with his elbow leaning on the bar. The amusement from before had toned down into a mild smile that he knew, from experience, annoyed people. People just seemed to have a problem with him looking at them like they were ten year old children. "In this city, no, in this world, there is nothing secret. A secret is something that belongs to only one person but it always wants to break out and be told, so people do. They tell someone else and then it's no longer a secret." Both fingers and words came to a pause as he analysed the sentence. "Or because they're idiots who didn't hide whatever they did properly. It's always one or the other." He leaned back in his chair in a posture that mimicked comfort. "BPSA is lucky such few people know about them." It was not intended as a threat, but the way he spoke and the way his smile tilted up ever so slightly, it could be taken as such.

Then Whitney changed his smile into a grin. "As for what they say about you..." he held up three fingers, folding them down one by one with each phrase, "Some think you're a hero. Some think you're a villian. And some think that you are merely being human." He let his hand fall to his lap. "But no matter what opinion they have of you, they're scared of you. And probably right to do so." He smiled brightly, not baring his teeth, "So I don't suppose you've heard rumours of me?"

After Marc finished Aileen studied him for a moment. She had long finished her dish and had set it neatly aside. All she had in front of her were a stack of papers and an apparent werewolf telling her about a not-so-secret-secret organization. Oddly, none of that phased her. In fact, so nonchalant was her attitude about this dawning revelation the only thing she could think of was asking, "Oh so you're a werewolf?" Then she realized that what she said might've been a little rude. "I'm sorry if I've offended you," she said frantically back tracking, then stopped and dropped the subject completely. Aileen shrugged, "I believe you, and I only have one question. Her gaze went from the stack of papers back to marc, "so, what now?"

Cillian quirked an eyebrow at the ‘merely human’ phrase. For some reason, this man struck him as being more than human. Or did he mean less?

”Why would you ever think they should be afraid of me, bozu-chan? That mock-hurt look made Cillian want to laugh a little at how innocuous the man could seem if he tried hard enough. Cillian could think of plenty of reasons for people to be afraid of the man before him, his association with BPSA being one of many. For people that did not know of BPSA, the predatory smile, the cat-like grace, and the all too palpable aura of danger would be enough of a warning. Although, Cillian did not doubt there were idiots out there who ignored all those signs. He also did not have doubts about the result of their stupidity.

“You are more than you seem. You don't do things the way people expect you to,” he finally replied, “And that unpredictability makes you dangerous. And as for rumours about me….I’d be hurt if there weren’t any around. But maybe you just don’t travel in those circles where I’m a legend.” He was not boasting at all. Cillian knew damn well that he was considered a genius by certain people. But he also knew that his reputation was limited.