[ He takes his cue from the newcomer, slamming on his own metaphorical breaks in mid-air as she pulls up abruptly. Hanging in the sky, thousands of feet above the ground, Apollo appraises her with a curious eye; the uniform, the mask, the hair. The sheer power she'd projected, cutting through the clouds. Not something to be taken lightly.

Still. Lightly is how he's going to approach this. His tone is light, his smile is sunny, his body language - suspended here among the clouds - is open and curious. ]

Sure, the upper atmosphere's great this time of year. [ Yeah, he can do small talk. He jerks his chin, his eyes crinkling in a smile. ] Nice mask. I always wondered if I should have gone down the mask route.