"We can't all be so clever and charming as I am," she says, arch, tilting to look at him properly now he's closer and she can without squinting out into the night. "What would be the point of being the best at anything if everyone was?"

Nothing, probably. Also, how could she then distinguish herself to the people whose attention she wants? (Not irrelevantly, 'warm and unsettling' seems like an apt descriptor for the fondness she inspires in most people she's inspired it in, all told, even the ones who actually know what the thing is and what to do with it. Here she is pushing things off shelves and staring around corners in the shadows, and somehow, clawing her way under the skin. Figuratively speaking. Mostly figuratively speaking.)