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The evening air is crisp with a good solid chill, as Mearcstapa walks the path from playground toward tennis court. A lanky fellow, to fae eyes he glimmers with neon greens and reds in the evening's darkness. It's that distinctive shade of green, too, bright and bold and sharp and threatening. But he's taken the oaths and bears an Autumn Mantle, despite the marks of who he used to serve lingering in his mien.
As he reaches the tennis courts, he sees they're locked for the winter, still. Which leads to thoughtful examination of the padlock itself, as he decides whether it's worth the picking practice.
Another glowing figure streaks through the park at a much faster speed--themselves nearly unseen, but made impossible to not notice by the trails of bright glowing neon light left in their wake. The light trails twist and curl as they flip over picnic tables and grab onto the bars of swings to use like some manic gymnast would.
They make their way to the tennis court, leaping up onto the chain link fence some distance further down--then abruptly halt as they notice the other glowing figure. The light trails fade away, leaving them silhouetted with neons and two glowing eyes staring out from darkness. A cold chill follows them, a fairly faint Winter mantle. They hang there from the fence for a moment, completely still, wide-eyed as they stare. Looking very much like a cat who had been caught climbing a curtain.
And the stare seems to be returned. Maybe. Given that Mearcstapa's eyes are voids, it can be a little tricky to see exactly where he's looking, but the hitch in his breath and how his shoulders tense are probably pretty indicative of his own distinct brand of 'WTF' here.
Silence stretches between them for several very long seconds.
Lux abruptly lets go, dropping down to their feet. Their lights illuminate from within their clothes--which today is a lime green checkerboard hoodie, short shorts, and tye-dye leggings disappearing into high top sneakers.
"...You look familiar," they murmur, the soft slightly-electronic quality of their voice perhaps recognizable.
"Yeah. You too. Um." He lets go of the padlock, tucking his hands into his pockets as he looks them up and down. Mearcstapa doesn't sound quite as electronic, but the hum of neon signs underlines his voice somewhat. "Yeah."
Lux was still for a few more seconds, hesitating. Then they abruptly take a step forward, then another, until they're standing just in front of him, staring intently into his face, the neons of their irises flicking back and forth as they search his features. "It's... you." The first word held clear disbelief before it pitched upwards into delight.
Instinct would have him lash out at someone, anyone, so close to his face, but for the moment he remains still. At least until Lux speaks, and his eyebrows raise way up. "Tautology. I am me, yes. But I'm assuming you don't mean that."
His gaze rakes over Lux quietly, and then a slow smile comes to his face. "You were there, the night we left."
They lean back and exhale a sharp breath, surprise mingled with immense relief. Not quite a laugh--but a soft chortle as emotions bubble up in their throat. "I thought... I was the only one that made it."
"I've been out for...what, almost five years now? Made it out in Chicago. I've only come here recently." He rakes a hand through his hair, taking a little longer to process the emotions.
"What?" Their brows crease, the start of a smile that slipping away. "How..." Their head shakes quickly, creating lingering afterglow effects in the air. "I've only been out a few weeks. I got out the same night--I got separated when the Beacon almost caught us."
"Time is a fuck. We were split, and arrived in different time-spaces. You're out now, though, and that is good to see. You're...eh, set up with what you need, so far?"
A hint of cold sweeps around them, Lux' face becoming more closed off and guarded. But after a few seconds the ice thaws, slightly. "Yeah. I'm good. Winter has been giving me places to stay until I get up on my feet." Their hands tuck into their hoodie pockets as they turn to lean back against the fence. "What's brought you to Philly?"
"The death of Queen Idlewild in Chicago, and the crowning of her successor, Medea Aristopolis, led to me leaving. Mundane work things made this city a good one to settle in, and the local Freehold was as welcoming as I could ask for." He shrugs. "This is a good city, so far."
"It's a good place," they agree with a nod. "Most people are pretty friendly." Their head tilts. "What work do you do?"
"Security." There's a hint of a smirk, because wasn't he always doing security? "Specifically, I do penetration testing and red team exercises to highlight flaws in physical security systems for businesses, organizations or individuals who may be vulnerable."
The neons of their eyes flicker-flicker as they blink, before letting out a not-quite-laugh snort. "I imagine you're pretty good at that. Do you... like it?" They push off of the fence and gesture to the lock. "You going in?"
"It's rewarding work, to be able to tell people how not to get got." He pauses, looking from Lux to the lock and back. "You just want a demonstration of my skills."
Their shoulders lift. "If you don't want to show off..." The Bright One takes several steps backwards--then sprints forward, jumping up onto the fence. It only takes them a few strides of long arms and legs to get to the top, where they vault over and land gracefully on the other side. Complete with a somersault. Clearly they had no problem showing off. They turn back, brows lifting challengingly, hands hooking behind their head.
Mearcstapa lets out a snort, pulling picks from the pocket of his cargo pants. He selects a rake and runs it through the lock a few times, before it clicks open and he can step inside. "Not all of us are so flashy, lightning bug."
Their lips twitch upwards, watching him pick the locks. "Quiet and subtle has it's place too. I am a Winter now--I can appreciate the small things." They pause, then upnod to him. "It's Lux, now."
"Lux. It is good to meet you. I am Mearcstapa--Janus Mearcstapa, among human society." He offers a polite bow, rather than a handshake.
"Mearcstapa," Lux echoes, sounding out the name. "That's a nice mouthful. You cool with nicknames?" Their hands drop, digging into a hoodie pocket--pulling out a can of spraypaint. They shake it up idly, glancing around.
"Mearc is fine." He pronounces that similarly to may-ARK, nodding, then looks at the spray paint thoughtfully. "Would you like me to stand guard while you work?"
"Mearc sounds badass," they reply approvingly. Another shake-shake of the can, peering over at him. "Yeah, if you don't mind."
"Of course." He nods, and moves to a position with good sightlines of the nearby paths. "We shall call it a lesson in security for the park. Have you been spray painting long?"
They walk over to the corner of the court, popping the top off of the can. Then lean over, starting to spray paint over the concrete ground in quick, sweeping movements with the occasional short spray. They don't immediately reply--focusing completely on laying down the first lines.
"A couple weeks now," they reply. "Getting pretty good at it." A pause, quiet punctuated with sprtsss from the can. "It's kinda cool. Being able to... create something."
"Mm. I suppose I know the feeling. Not in this medium, of course--I already look like I caught a can of green paint in the wind. But, yes, it is very cool to create something."
Their lips quirk, but they don't look up from their work. "It's a good look for you, though." They paint is neon orange, which glows brightly, reflecting Lux' natural light. "What mediums do you prefer?"
"I do Youtube videos about the sorts of things I run across in my work. Educational content, but the editing process is...to take raw footage and make something that makes sense of it, that's pretty neat."
"No shit? You'll have to send me the link. Sounds dope." They quickly lay down the word DREAM in blocky, graphic lettering, then move around to start working on a design that spans off of it. "I've been fiddling around with editing myself the past few days. With music, not video. Remixing stuff. So far it's all shit--but it's fun."
"Well. If you would like a second opinion or something...also. I think it will be hard to send you the link without an email or phone number to text it to." He grins, glancing over his shoulder to see what they've done so far.
"Oh--shit, yeah. Uh..." They stop, crouching down to dig out a cheap phone to poke at. "Haven't memorized the number yet... Here we go. It's..." they read off the digits.
Moments later, the phone gets a text with a link to the MarchWalker613 YouTube channel. And Mearcstapa goes back to looking to potential trouble. "Thank you."
They save the number into their contacts then tuck the phone away. "No problem. You know--feel free to hit me up. Whenever." They go back to spray painting. "It's... good to see you again."
"Yes, you too. It's very good to know you made it. I haven't seen any of the others, yet."
"I only know of one other person from There. He goes by Asbolus, now. He was--" They pause, glancing up at him. "Marked. Like us."
"Maybe it is something about the realm, that those of us who come from it are drawn to picking very extra names." There's a bit of tease in there, tempered with self-mockery.
Lux lets out another not-quite-laugh chuff. "I mean... look at us. We're pretty fucking extra." More quick sprays, before they stop and stand, stepping back to look over the work.
Above DREAM they've drawn what looks to be a brain, cracked open and exploding outwards with lines that maybe resemble vines. It's all very abstract and graphic. They lean back over to tidy up a line or two. Once pleased with the results they pop the top back onto the can and stuff it away into their hoodie. "You already found a place to stay here and all?"
"Yes, I have a place. I've been here a few months already." He nods, moving to walk around the edges of Lux's work. "This is very cool."
"Oh--okay. Cool, cool." Their hands tuck into their pockets, scuffing a foot against the pavement as they look down at the art. The compliment makes them preen, lips quirking as their lights glow just a bit brighter. "Thanks."
"Welcome. Uh...Do you have plans for more works tonight, or are you heading home?" He seems a little awkward about...everything, as he moves back to the door he'd opened. Because it is polite to close a lock once you pick it. Right?
Lux seem to consider vaulting the fence again, despite the door being already open. But instead they trail after the Hunterheart. "Planned on running around for a while longer. See what I can get into." They glance over, a brow arching. "You?"
"Eh, I'd had no plans. Trouble or otherwise. But I would not mind playing lookout again, if you need one?" Once they're both safely out, he secures the padlock, patting the lockbody like one might pat a kitten.
The Bright One watches with a trace of amusement as he pats the lock, eyes flickering up to his face after. "Yeah... that'd be cool." A beat pause. "How good are you at climbing?"
A small pause. "I have not tried, much, but I have stayed in some sort of shape since my return. So I will do my best with it."
"Lets see if you can keep up then," Lux replies playfully, challenge in their voice, bumping shoulders with Mearc as they pass. They take a step, another--then start running.
Mearc huffs, and then begins to follow. He's definitely not into parkour, but a lot of the old tricks he was taught are still up his sleeve.
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