The guy on the other end of the couch from Elsa is a little weird. And this is coming from a woman who can shoot ice out of her fingers. And while he may be playing the "what are they?" game, Elsa is playing it too, about him at least. He's dressed in a style that either says hipster or immortal. She can't quite tell which. Being immortal would place him in either the fae, werewolf or vampire camps. Despite the shag on his face, Elsa doesn't get a werewolf vibe off of him.

Then she sees him light his cigarette with his hand and vampire is off the table. Fae is still on though, and now witch can be added to it. And meta-human. Maybe he can do fire with his hands like she can do ice.

Basically she has no idea. But he's not a normal human.

Blast, bloody cigarettes, Elsa hates them. Young people think they're so posh. Obviously her condition prevents her from any activity that would involve her literally inhaling smoke, but the very smell of cigarettes bothers her too. She coughs, not obnoxiously, and sips her tea.

"Do you need an ashtray?"

There's one sitting on the table next to her end of the couch.