A jog downtown...

[Whisper]

Ion, dressed in a simple gray tank top and blue sweats, was on the run downtown. A pair of Dre Beats rested in her ears as she flipped through her playlist on her phone. Her pace was tailored to endurance as she had been trying to become better in that department. She had speed, but could not keep it up.

Lately it was all work, not in the sense that she was countering the fae or anything, but that she was trying to keep up with rent, make sure the lights stay on, and use whatever is left to put some food in her stomach. Let's face it minimum wage sucked, and these jogs cleared her mind and helped her not to kill anyone, literally...

[Wolven Pryde]

Some ways down the street, there is an adorable little flower cart set up. It is laden with many of Summer's more popular beauties, in fresh bloom. Bellflowers, some mixed garden Roses, Marigolds, Lilac, even some sprigs of Lavender and Baby's Breath. It's a simple assortment... nothing too wild or exotic. But some might say that there is a quaint charm in it all.

Now take a look at the bloke fussing over them. Because you can't miss him. Especially if you can perceive the touch of the Fae around him. Tall, broad, musclebound, with a prominent brow and a piercing gaze. Very much an Ogre, and very unabashed about his job.

Warren Locke kind of has a green thumb. Two of them, actually. Along with every other square inch of his skin. He is dressed in a plain white shirt and brown slacks, along with a well-used light leather apron. His massive hands are delicate when they touch the plant life. A gentle sort of attention only learned within the last couple of decades.

Before that, there was only violence. Hate. Brutality.

Locke himself is always rather curious to learn that he can be capable of such new intricacies.

I remain such a glorious hypocrite.

OOC

Assuming since you didn't tag or narrate anyone that this is an open thread? You forgot to note that :3

Also, what time of day is it? I need to know whether Locke is setting up, selling, or packing up.

[Whisper]

The morning rays were still filtering through the buildings leaving swaths of shade and light. It was a cool morning perfect for a run. Ion drew near, and through the shroud, her silvery skin danced with electricity, and her eyes were lit with energy.

So focused on the run, she did not notice the brute until she drew close. As much as she had been enraptured in her mortal life, she could never get away from the truth. Her pace slows as she nears the flower cart. Pausing the music, she removes a ear-bud from her left ear.

Ion was unsure and cautious. It being such a public place helped displace some tension but she did not know what to expect. Worse comes to worse she knew she could outrun about anything that decides to chase. Her pace slows to a walk, though the Levinquicks walk is still fairly quick and energetic.

OOC

I did not see any appropriate tag. It is indeed open.

[Wolven Pryde]

Locke considers the assortment as he arranges them carefully, aesthetically, on the little wooden cart. He takes pride in his new job, and the simplicity of it. Perhaps something can be said for how hands that had once crushed throats now carefully lifted a blossom to face him for examination. But he gives no thought to such analogy.

The Bellflowers look a little dull this morning. The might have missed their last watering in the small shop, blocks away, where they had originated. Help had been needed badly enough that when a man the size and bearing of Warren Locke showed up looking for a job, he'd been given it with little pause.

The wilted flowers get a little more thought. They were not really wilted, by anyone else's standards, but the Witchtooth could see it coming soon. Perhaps he could just...

I think not. I barely have enough power as it is.

Little enough, that his Mask is not hardened. Any agents of the Others would see him for what he is, and he will just have to risk it until he gets a better handle on this new life in Sacramento.

Rather than the sound of running footsteps, it is their slowing that draws the Ogre's attention. Joggers are frequent, this time of morning. Those that bother to stop near him are not. His hooded gaze, a fearsome, hungry yellow behind the Mask, regards the Elemental a little more openly than might be considered polite. A bare couple of decades on this side of the hedge is not enough to instill in Locke the instincts of etiquette.

He still has to remember not to act like a tyrant.

Expression softening slightly into a small smile of greeting, he nods. Where the jogger's energy seems constantly kinetic, his is all potential.

"Good morning to you."

[Whisper]

"Eh...Hey..." Ion studies him then feigns interest in the flowers for a brief moment. It has been quite a bit of time since she has ran into any from the other side of things. His appearance did not help bring come comfort, but in a open area she feels a bit more at ease.

Ion tucks her phone into the pocket of her blue sweats and removes the other earbud from her ear, letting it dangle lazily over her shoulder. "How are you?"

[Wolven Pryde]

Admittedly lacking any expertise or interest in really reading people, Locke quietly goes about arranging things for a sparse few seconds. A part of him that he neither understands or knows how to express wants to reach out to the energetic little... sprite? Yes, that could be a nice descriptor for her. To say something beyond hello, something that will give them a reason to chat.

Aha. Yes. Small talk. Let's see...

"I am well, thank you. Only just arrived in the city a few days ago, as a matter of fact. Still settling in." His voice is hard and powerful, but not cold.

"Yourself?"

King Charisma? Not exactly. But he has done worse.

[Whisper]

OOC=Oops

[Whisper]

Ion nods in response. "I have been her for a bit..." Her gaze dances across the assorted flowers. "I trust you are here with peaceful intent." The Summer Courtier states, rather then question as her attention snaps back to him

[Wolven Pryde]

It takes Locke a moment to consider the statement. Is he here with peaceful intent? Not exactly. Does he intend harm to this one, or any other members of this Freehold's Courts? Again, not exactly.

How best, then, to respond.

"I am not here with hostile intent. Any violence I involve myself with will be merely in defense, or to protect those like us." By which, he assumes that he isn't speaking to servant of the Gentry. A Loyalist, he would be most happy to kill.

Finishing his work, at least until an interested party happens by, the Ogre wipes his hands relatively clean on a cloth. He turns to regard the young-looking Elemental with one hand braced high on the cart, and the other in his pant pocket just beside the apron's edge. It is a posture that is meant to display some semblance of relaxation, but Locke's bearing reduces the effect somewhat. He has yet to stoop or lean.

"I also commend you on your wariness. Though it may be wasted somewhat on me at this moment. I am only here to sell flowers, today.

"Tell me, what do I call you?"

As if remembering that thing called manners, and that he is a nobody in this place, Locke intones a noticeable beat later, "I am Warren Locke. I would shake your hand... but mine are a bit dirty."

[Whisper]

Ion can not help but smirk as she enjoys the direct and honest words. "Warren Locke...I am Ion." She offers her hand, not one to care about getting a little dirty. "It is a pleasure to meet you."