The light, it burns us [D1, EM]

[Samantha Hayne]

Samantha emerged from the place she had spent the night; though none on the street she now wandered down could see her. She would have to return there tonight; make it her own now that her old haunt was beyond use. It wasn't a terrible change of scenery at least. Just needed a personal touch. Until then though, she much prefered to not be cooped up inside there all day.

Even though shadows hid her from the world; the darkling was entirely exposed to the morning light. Not really her scene, but hardly something that could be avoided.

Once she was a suitable distance away from the place she was likely to live from now on, the darkling became visible again. There was no need to stay hidden from the world *all* of the time, after all. Not when the magic of the Wyrd kept her true visage hidden from the mundane world. Though, that said, people still tended to give her an odd eye here and there. While she'd managed to figure out how to dress in modern styles, her attire basically said 'homeless goth'. Not the sort of look that earned one a warm welcome in most places of commerce.

She wandered the old familiar streets, taking the one that took her past the largest old mansion in town, where her steps slowed down a little; as she watched the comings and goings of servants on their way to work in the LeBlanc mansion. In some ways, in some places, time hadn't moved forward much at all; it seemed.

But lingering too long while others might see wasn't ideal, so her feet carried her onto a different street again. Walking toward one of the small parks that was usually quiet around this time of day. No bread for the birds today, but perhaps they would still keep her company.

[Jonathan Whitford]

It was always a strange experience having coffee so readily accessible. Just walk up to a place, order a coffee, and you walk out. It's a whole social experience, if you stop and think about it. Used to just sit at home and brew some with friends before, making it a more intimiate experience. Maybe stop by a diner and have some for breakfast or as a pick me up.

Though there was a hell of a lot more options going on with it. Adding so many sweet things to it, making it less of a means to stay awake and turning it into more of a dessert. Plus, some were darker flavors than he could remember. All he could do is just stick with what they called a Americano, since he remembered some of his buddies talking about it in Italy, and added in pure cane sugar (which honestly was a nicer flavor to him than the sugar he remembered) and walked out of the busy line.

Overall, it wasn't bad. Nice flavor to it, a improvement over the stuff he was given before he was taken. Just he could never get over the fact it cost him $5 to get. Inflation of prices was definitely the first thing he had to get used to on the road of normalcy. The style of the area, as well as its dated architecture was definitely a lot better than the sprawling metropolis he had seen when he had returned to.

Though he did catch a familiar face along the way past the old quarter, he looked on at her to adjust to her vision. The morning had a effect on removing the shadows of the world, making the world less haunted and fearful in its appearance. The monsters still existed, and some even basked in the sun's rays, but one had to take their stable feelings and control where they found them.

"Hello there." He paused and gave a smile to her fellow Mantle bearer. It was always good to be social with them, no doubt. "Coffee?" He holds out his cup to the young girl with a smile.

[Samantha Hayne]

She had seen the man come up to her; just as she had seen him... somewhere... before. One of the local Lost; briefly encountered at a gathering here, or there... or perhaps like today, simply out on the street. Their interactions hadn't been many, in any case; Samantha had not even seen a full passing of the seasons since breaking her chain, and for most of that time she's been living fairly secluded from the rest of her kind.

The Darkling was both easy and hard to miss. Easy; because she was so small, and lacking in that natural magnetism that drew out a person's being and imposed it upon the world around them. Hard; because she was a thing that should not be. A doll, or a corpse, or both; unnatural, unnerving, moving in that uncanny valley sort of way; a creepy thing that didn't blink and who; in her best moments; seemed to belong more in a Tim Burton production than the sleepy streets of Minuit in the morning.

Samantha wore Autumn a little better than he did. The dead leaves in the air around her: not constant, but frequent enough to be noticeable. The flickering of brief points of candle-light, sorcerous signs that disappeared as soon as you focused on them.

She stared at him, then looked down at the cup and stared at it; and then looked back up at him again. "Bonjour," she said with her Cajun accent, "Ça va?"

Only then did she take the cup of coffee. She had never been a coffee drinker; it was not a thing she had known before Mother had taken her. And it had only been a thing for her a few times since; but she was not unappreciative of the taste.

[Jonathan Whitford]

"Uhh..." He gave a small pause, trying to remember the basics of French he had been taught, as well as picked up being in this area. "Ca va bein. Et tu?" It was clear with the accent he it was not something he was accustomed to, not to mention lacking the proper drawl on himself for added effect.

Clearly a Yankee by anyone's guess..

"Looked like you needed it....Sam, right?"

[Samantha Hayne]

"Merci," she took a tentative sip of the coffee. The way she held it, and brought it up to her mouth, might almost remind one of a fraggle. She decided it was still too hot to drink, and lowered the cup again.

"Samantha is what dey call me, oui. And you, de name is... it shares a ting with de king, oui? Whitt or such. Lotta names as such, in one fashion or another, 'ere in de vieux carre."

[Jonathan Whitford]

"Whitford, though Jon will do." He says it with a small smile as she moved away from the heat. "Don't worry, I've only been here a year and I'm still getting accustomed to the names and faces. Just have that sort of head to learn all the names I come across. Associating something with a name helps you to learn it."

Hers was just that line from that movie he saw. Though he wasn't really sure if she knew how to play the piano.

"Pleasure, Samantha, to see you once again; looking forward to the harvest season already."

[Samantha Hayne]

"De autumn is here. Dey say it is de season of de freesons. It is my first in a long while."

She looked back at the cup, briefly considering having another go, before deciding it was still too soon.

"You saw last autumn pass, oui? Saw what ting's happened 'ere back when last de leaves went bad?"

[Jonathan Whitford]

"No, I did not. I came in right at the tail end of it. Very excited about it, though. Good season for us. Everyone's already ready to get scared by the films and the atmosphere. Wasn't too hard to get the hang of back in Pittsburgh, figured small town such as this, should be even easier, if not as abundant."

He looks down at her, grabbing the cup of coffee with a small smile. She was like a small child with it, tipid with its contents due to the heat.

[Samantha Hayne]

"Den," her eyes darted around for a moment, "let's go sit in de park, and tell me of how dey do in Pittsburgh."

[Jonathan Whitford]

He smiles at offer, and nods his head. "Seems like a plan to me. Well..." He paused and walked with her, letting her lead the way. "Some people got some complexity off of it. Some worked at haunted houses and fields. Why I'm trying to set it up out here. I think there's enough time to get it going and get a good source going if we move quickly. Ghost tours, that sort of thing. Get the emotions in primed up and ready."