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locke cole (lockecole) wrote in silverage,

Locke smiled at her. "Thanks!" Boy oh boy, a bench and a table.

It had been months since he last had to walk around in thick, overwhelming snow although he had to hand it to New York for having paved roads and walls that were not actually just the outsides of a mining cave. Still, snow was snow and if he was not careful or patient enough, it could spell a damn lot of trouble. So a place to sit down in to rest his legs was almost as good as a hot cup and he sipped the bitter goodness with an air of relief. God, this was good.

"Whew," he said after a while, searing his tongue a little as he turned to see the snow piling up in the sidewalk. "Some weather, huh? Crazy place this is..." then he turned back to the woman.

And it occurred to him: that's some fancy costume she has going there. It was unlike anything he'd seen citizens of New York wear and it reminded him more of...an army or a force of sorts. Kind of like the Imperial Army back home but he would know if they were here by the mere stench of them.

"Hey, you're not from around here, are ya?" Well, there was no harm in asking.