Welcome to London

The man leaned casually back against the ticket booth, watching the unloading passengers with mild interest. Every time a flight came into London from a place he had never saved enough money to visit, he watched the unloading people as though he could gain some sort of insight from the place through osmosis. Not that it ever worked. He had never been to Japan, and hadn't the faintest idea what it looked like, even though he'd witnessed many incoming flights from Tokyo. Perhaps it was the people alone that interested him, but he liked to tell himself it was the places, maybe to make it less creepy in his own head.

Just coming off board was one of the strangest women he had ever seen. She wasn't particularly tall, but the way she held herself spoke volumes of authority, a sense that when she told you to do something, you didn't question it. She was wearing a white cloak that fell off her shoulders and swept nearly to the floor. On her head was a white hat with a green ribbon tied to it. Lines chiseled her face, marking her youth rather than her elder age. The dark blue orbs set deep in her face darted around the terminal before stepped forward, leading two children actually into the building.

"This way, ma'am!" he called to her, fearful that if she looked at him directly she might sting him the way bees do.

She however did not sting him. She stepped forward gracefully, sweeping the children along behind her with a gentle care that made him relax. If these children could survive his presence, surely he could.

The woman smiled at him as she approached, reaching into her pocket that he had not seen and pulling out a wallet with an ID card in it. "Like this, kids," she said, not without kindness. She handed him her ID card and read off correctly her birthday. "Corndella, Hatfield," she said lastly. He looked at her ID once again and nodded, handing it back to her and waving for her to go on.

"Mistress Hattie!" The younger of the two children cried. "Wait for us!" The young'un was very small, wearing exactly the same outfit as the Mistress Hattie before her. Her hair was short, just the blonde ends of it sticking out from beneath her white hat. The child had strikingly blue eyes that stared up at him with a childish fear.

Wanting only to ebb her fear, he smiled gently at her asked for her ID. She timidly handed it to him, arm shaking. "October 9th, 1982." Her voice shook. "Sabrina Thatcher."

He chuckled, "Thatcher, Sabrina. Welcome to London." The little child smiled at him her perfect teeth blindingly white. He turned to the last girl, watching her walk up with confidence that roughly mirrored the older woman. She was wearing the same outfit too.

Her waist length red hair was pulled casually over one shoulder. When she smiled, her teeth were all straight, and just as white as little Sabrina Thatcher's. Her eyes were hazel, and her face was very pretty. He could tell just by looking at her that she was very kind. All of these things added up made him decide he liked her.

"ID card please?" he asked politely. She handed to him and recited,

"Born July 31st, 1980. Evans, Amanda."

As he handed her back her ID, he couldn't help but smile. "Well, Amanda Evans, welcome to London."