Jo
6:00am.
The sun had barely risen. The kitchen was dark, empty. It was a time before most people awoke, which was perfect for Elya. She hated the crowdedness the morning brought, the chatter, the people. She much preferred early morning silence. 
So, here she was, stood beside the counter chopping the various fruits and berries she could find in the fridge. Almost past ripe, but she didn't mind. 

Elya moved in a way that kept her presence pretty much unnoticeable. The lights in the kitchen weren't on, aside from the glow of the hallway which gave her just enough light to know what she was doing. Her actions were softened, the sound of the knife against the board barely audible.
She was used to keeping quiet. 

On her arm, her tarantula sat calmly. It blended into her dark coloured sleeve, and with the low visibility and little movement, Princess was practically invisible. Elya figured she would enjoy joining her for breakfast, despite not enjoying fruit. 
She would give her a bug later to make up for it.
David
Danica wiped a small towel over her face as she came up the stairs, gulping down from a lukewarm water bottle. She'd just come back from a brisk run, enjoying the cool air granted before the sun soaked the earth. Her hair was tied up, and she was in a simple athletic outfit. Now that her muscles had gotten some motion, she truly felt awake. And hungry. 

Walking towards the kitchen, she paused in the hall, hearing the quiet noises of preparation and seeing the dark figure working at the counter. This wasn't the first time her and this girl had passed each other in the morning. Usually Danica just grabbed an apple and was on her way, they had never spoke. 

She knew now though, that this girl held ability to become quite the behemoth. Having encountered her in the mindscape, she could attach the choppy layers to the person she'd seen then. She was always awake early, too, which Danica respected. The accent she'd glimpsed acclimated her as-well. She couldn't recall her name, but she could recall the image her face peering out from behind her bangs like a veil. 

"Is there any reason you never turn on the lights?" 

Saying *Hi* Just to say it always felt foolish to Danica.
Jo
Elya turned her head over her shoulder to glance at the familiar figure. She stopped chopping the fruit in front of her. 

This was someone she had seen before, in passing, yet one she could not pin a name to. All she knew was the confidence in which she held herself, which Elya could greatly respect. She looked and moved like someone with purpose, a goal. 
Alongside this, even in the dim light, her sun coloured hair always caught Elya's attention— but Elya was always quick to pull her gaze away. 

Not this time. For this time, the other had spoken. 

With a tense expression, the girl stared. Silent for a moment, a prickly sort of alertness bit at her nerves. Elya did not like when people talked to her— and this would be obvious if not for the complete lack of emotion on her shadowed face. Though, her face did hold a clear analytical look, harsh eye contact that finally took the time to drink in every feature on the other's face. It almost seemed as if she was surveying whether or not she could respond. 

"... I like the dark. The light in the morning tends to hurt my eyes."
The words came out slow, with a few pauses, pointing clearly to the fact she wasn't fully accustomed with english. Despite this, her voice was smooth and calm, almost monotone. 

Elya turned her head back forward and continued chopping fruit, like she always did. 

"Is there a reason *You* Never turn on the lights? You are free to do so should you need it."
David
Danica took the staring in full, undeterred by the eye contact. They exchanged visual information like one exchanged business cards. She was glad for not having to mask her naturally dull, considered bitchy, expression. What reason did this girl give to be any more than how she was already going to be? 

She raised her eyebrows minutely. This one must exist in darkness often for mere lightbulbs to sting. Although, Danica held the ability to stare straight at the sun so maybe she wasn't a good metric. 

"I can see fine enough. I'd assumed you had a reason. You don't seem dim enough to just forget." 

Though she didn't see why, it was a solid reason. Danica would keep the lights off, but would grant herself some diminished illumination for food prep. Hungrier than normal, she moved to prepare toast. The light of the fridge spilled out briefly in a sterile bloom.
Jo
Elya gave a small hum in response. A little *'hm,'* As confirmation she had heard what the other had said. 

"I ... Appreciate it."
Most people would've turned the lights on without a second thought. The consideration to respect her wishes was seen, and internalized by Elya. 

As the other opened the fridge, Elya softly put down the knife she was holding. She moved her hand towards her left forearm, and allowed Princess to climb into her palm. The spider moved its legs slowly, calmly, it clearly trusted Elya immensely. This pulled Princess out of camouflage, the spider was incredibly visible against the pale white of Elya's skin. 
Slowly, she moved Princess onto her right forearm instead— and the spider disappeared once more. 

And like nothing happened, she resumed cutting up her fruit.
David
Danica nodded, pulling bread and jam from the cold of the fridge. She didn't notice the other's movements, or the spider.

Not one to invade someones space any more than needed, Danica set up on the island just behind her. She needed a plate, knife, and butter. She puttered about to grab these things, pulling forth a subtle illumination to grab a knife that wasn't shit. 

Her hand glowed with the warm light of the setting sun through linen. The other would have been able to see it through her peripheral vision, cascading gently onto the geriatric coffee maker. It was gone again when Danica found what she was looking for. 

For now, the arachnid was the other's little secret.
Jo
As the other moved about, Elya kept half her gaze on her. It was habit, one unfortunately learnt. She didn't like when people shifted around her— but it was something she'd begrudgingly have to get used to. 

Due to this habit, once a small glowing light appeared outside of a usual light source, Elya noticed and was immediately intrigued. She remembered when the shifting-face stranger appeared in that odd realm, and when that light had used to scorch and burn. The strength that tiny glow held. 

"Thats a rather interesting ability you hold." 
Her voice broke the silence once more. Elya continued to speak calmly. 
"It can be used for general use as well as combat. Versatility is quite convenient." 

She usually wasn't one to talk, and usually she left the two of them to silence, but for some reason this morning she was feeling *Chatty.*
David
Danica could feel the eyes. She couldn't say she was thrilled, but it was no major offence. It wasn't like she wasn't wary of people. 

The feeling of warmth in her hand was comfortable, natural. An extension of herself. Feeding the sun felt like a deep breath of air. 

She peered at the other, then looked back to her toast. 

"It is." 

Danica knew when she wielded. The other girls voice was pleasant. 

"I've learned how to make it so- it bends to me well." 

She pressed a piece of bread between her hands, the glow shining through her hands like a powerful flashlight through the flesh of fingers . The smell of toast wafted into the air. What she placed onto the plate was perfect. 

"You too wield much. I commend it." 

She recalled the mindscape, Giannis tapping everyone out of existence. She thought of Giannis now. Danica frowned to herself.
Jo
Elya stared at the fruit in front of her. She placed the strawberries she had just cut into the bowl by sliding them off the cutting board in one clean swipe. 

"The way you have... Honed your skill— is quite impressive." 

This interaction was strangely nice. The unease that kept Elya alert was melting away, ever so slightly thawing, allowing a bit more comfort in her words. 

She took a second to respond to the compliment of sorts.
"Thank you." 

Her voice wavered, slightly unsure. 
Elya did not find it commendable. She felt shame in knowing the one across from her had seen her coated in metal, eyes aglow— however this was nothing she was about to bring up. 

She let the conversation rest. 

Princess slowly moved up Elya's arm. She didn't move. 

There was more on the tip of her tongue, but she did not know which conversation topic to start with. 
Instead, Elya simply grabbed the apple she had laid out beside her, and sliced it in half with a satisfying *Chop.*
David
"Thank you."

Danica saw nothing off about knowing what the other could do. She'd seen her flinging fire. That was even. Danica felt strongly that she needed to be able to control her abilities, and worked hard at them as a result. Thus: toast. 

Onto her toast, Danica first put butter, and then some jam. 

The accent carried in the other girl's voice made Danica a little friendlier. She was a sucker for other Eastern Europeans, feeling more at home when among them. A part of her mourned the Russian accent she had as a young child. Now, she just sounded like any other kid coming from New York. 

Having listened, she'd heard enough of the other's accent to be certain of the specifics. 

"You are *Cheshskiy.*"

She couldn't remember the English. Czech.
Jo
"*Ano,* I am."

Elya turned over her shoulder slightly, her voice softening. The other did not hold a familiar accent, but when she spoke the word *Cheshskiy,* It was far too well pronounced to be from someone entirely American. It wasn't the Czech word, for Czech, but it was slavic in origin— one she recognized but could not pinpoint. 

"Are you... As well?" 
Her voice unsure. 

A pull in Elya's brow showed her interest clear, she had not talked to someone from the same place as her yet. Everyone seemed to be from all over the world, which was lovely in concept but incredibly alienating for someone who wasn't used to people outside of Eastern Europe. 
Elya was dreadfully craving a reminder of home. 

The vague idea that the girl across from her might be similar to her, was already enough to ease the tension that pulled on her shoulders.
David
Of the four Czech words Danica knew, that was one of them. So she was Czech. This girl was Slavic. Danica felt warmer. 

"No. I am Russian. Where I lived in America was *Very* Slavic." 

She put the knife in the sink and then leaned against the counter. 

"Not many of you, though. I know little." 

"*Kurva.*" 

*Fuck.* Her mouth pressed into a sly smile.
Jo
"Mmh, I see."
Elya set down the knife she was holding out of courtesy to the conversation, and placed a blackberry in her mouth while the other spoke. 

"Ah, where in America?
My father went abroad for school, so perhaps it was in a similar area." 

The more these two talked, the more Elya realized how similar they were. It was... A nice feeling. One she couldn't internally articulate or elaborate on. 

Elya gave a quick exhale at the vulgar word, but clearly it was a sound of amusement. 

"Very classy. Is that the only word in Czech you know?" 
Her head tilted slightly to the side, moving her bangs to show both eyes. The gaze underneath was less harsh, less alarmed; it was now more curious, more intrigued.
David
Danica's heart felt lighter. A feeling of home settled into her bones. 

"New York. Brooklyn. Brighton Beach, also called Little Odessa. It's near the ocean, and an amusement park."

She seemed amused. 

*"Ano, ne. Ahoj. Kurva."*

*Yes, no. Hello. Fuck.* 

"You speak any Russian?"
Jo
"Ah, New York."
Elya looked to the side for a moment, she was thinking. 

"Yes that is what it was called. That is where my father studied." 
She gave a soft nod.
"He recalled it being a... Big city. Lots of noise, but nice at the end of the day."
Long talon-like nails plucked another blackberry out of the bowl in front of her. 

Elya rolled her eyes at the others lovely list of words. Which was very clearly a joke, even if she hadn't properly smiled yet. 

"*Jsem neuvěřitelně ohromen.*"
 
Despite her sarcasm, it was actually quite nice to hear her first language being spoken to her. 
Once Elya switched, her words immediately flowed smother. Her voice more quick, less unsure. It suited her better. 

Once it was asked if she knew Russian, Elya's brow pinched with thought. She attempted to recall the few things her father had taught her. 

"Hm. Uh. 
... привет,
... Я не говорю по-Русски,"

She paused. 
"That's... All. Just that."

All that she confidently knew, anyways. Somewhere in her brain she could maybe find the words for *'how're you,'* Or *'please,'* But she wasn't about to embarrass herself trying. 

She left it at the two phrases she definitely knew.
David
"Very big," Danica agreed. "Very noisy."
She seemed distant for half a second, the kind of twitch that was all but impossible to notice unless you'd known her for years. New York felt so far away. It was, truly; multiple flight hours could attest to that. But it still felt so *Far.* Further even than it usually was when she used to spend time in Moscow. There was something deeper than distance between her and Brooklyn now. 

Danica's lips gave a quick curl.

"Я без понятия что это значит." *I have no idea what that meant.* 

Like this girl, in her mother tongue, Danica spoke differently. Her voice was clearer, more her own. It was fuller, her mouth curling lovingly around the language in a way it didn't for English.

Hearing the way this girls Czech tendencies billowed around Russian was fascinating. Each language was slavic, but they shared different linguistic roots, resulting in different ticks and twangs. She jumped across the sounds like a rabbit hopping over snow. Russian moved more like a river, Danica felt. 

"Far more practical than what I know."
Jo
The other returned the favour of speaking in her native language, much like Elya did. She tilted her head slightly, with the minimal knowledge she had there was no way for her to decipher what was said. Maybe one day she'd figure it out. 


Elya only knew Russian for one reason. 

"We get some people who speak Russian in Czechia— especially when I lived in Prague. People who think they can get by because the language is *Similar enough.* So I have had to learn how to tell them I cannot help them when they speak Russian to me." 

The girl moved her left hand once more towards her bowl of fruit, grabbing a strawberry between her thumb and index finger. The strawberry was soft, the red painted her lips very briefly. She paused. 

"It is a beautiful language, though. Perhaps I should learn more of it."
David
"Seriously?" 

Danica frowned. 

"I am ashamed, then."

She'd been annoyed by language barriers enough times, but she was embarrassed to know that her language was used like that. It only made sense, she supposed. Still. Eugh. 

Her eyebrows un-twisted themselves when the girl spoke again. Many felt Russian to be an angry language. Again, Danica felt warmed; more whole than she'd been in a while. She felt more at home than she had in a long time. 

"You'd learn?"

"Have you passion for language?" 

*Danica approves.*
Jo
Elya's expression shifted when the other took what she had said as a bad thing.

"It— happened with English too— Prague is a big place where a lot of... Tourists and travellers go. It makes sense people who speak different languages would live there." 
Her voice was softer, slightly embarrassed. She attempted to backtrack her words, as to hopefully remedy making it out to be something bothersome. 

This awkward tension did not last long. The warmth once Elya mentioned learning Russian was immediately noticed. She looked to the side. 

"Yes, I'd want to." 

"Hm. I would not say I have a passion for it. I know Czech and English— that's it. However, I want to visit Russia one day, so I want to be able to speak the language."

Travelling had never been something Elya, previous to Newtons Cradle, would've even considered. She had dreams, but it always seemed much too far away. Now she was in Sweden, the out of reach possibility slowly morphed into realistic probability. Russia was a good place to start, she figured. Close to home.
David
Danica's nose twitched in a sour pinch. It wasn't this girl's fault, but she had reminded Danica of the annoyance of other's thick-headedness. Any disruption to regular proceedings was a disruption Danica was sorry for. Not sorry personally, it wasn't her cross to bear, but sorry all the same. She knew it angered her. 

*'Yes, I'd want to.* 

Hm. That was a sweet thought. 

Danica nodded her head. 

"That is thoughtful of you. Practical."

She paused for a moment, then opened a hand towards herself in a small gesture. 

"*Danitsa.* What do they call you?"
Jo
Taking a blackberry between her fingers, Elya took a bite of the sour fruit. She never got tired of the taste. 

A soft hum echoed from her lungs at the idea of her being thoughtful. She was. She was prepared in every sense. She had been made to be that way. 

When a name was finally mentioned, Elya looked up with curious eyes. Deep, dark wells, pools of swirling information, that loomed like pitch black clouds on the horizon of a moonlit night. Her gaze was an intense one— she had a certain *Stare.*

*Danitsa.* It was a gorgeous name. It suited the one she looked at. 

"Elya... It's a pleasure to meet you."
David
She was not deterred by the staring, and met the look with a similar stare in return. 

"Elya. Likewise-"

A habit she'd picked up from the people she spoke to in New York, Danica always liked to know full names. She felt that names where important to people, and kept your ties visible. She also let people change her name to an americanized dani-*Ka* All the time though, so maybe she was a hypocrite. She felt she knew who she was, so why did it matter. 

"What's your full name?"
Jo
Elya straightened her already rather good posture, slightly set off guard by the sudden formality of giving her full name. Usually people stuck with Elya— especially given the fact that her current last name was something she gained recently. 
Elya was a constant, the rest was not. 

"*Elya Nováková.* I don't have a middle name, it's just the two." 

She spoke her name the way she always did, how her father pronounced it. She did not lean into a more American accent, and in fact kept a strong Czech sound to each syllable. Even more so with Danica, Elya knew she could handle it. That she'd give justice to her name.
No more *Ellie-ah.* *Elya.* 

"May I ask yours? As a fair trade?" 
Her tone was slightly lighthearted— Elya didn't care for full names but she felt as though she should maybe ask. 

This interaction was shaping up to be another that Elya could put on her list of very few successful conversations.
David
Outside, the sun was rising. 

Danica nodded. 

"*Elya Nováková.*" 

She often made a point to repeat peoples names. It was a confirmation that she'd heard, and was committing it to memory. *Elya Nokáková.* Danica had always been better at remembering slavic names. In the back of her mind, she remembered the faces of the people she used to live with; bodega owners and old women, scruffy teenagers and aunts. 

"*Даница Димитриовна Беляева.*"

Her name was long. Many found it imposing. *Dantista Dimitriovna Belyaeva,* Danica, daughter of Dimitri Belyaev. 

"We'll meet again." 

It was time to be moving along out of the kitchen, at least for Danica. Her expression was pleasant.
Jo
The sound of her name coming from someone else's mouth was an something Elya did not witness often— she had seen it on adoption certificates, especially her new last name once it was changed— but it had been far too long since someone had repeated it to her in it's entirety. A part of Elya felt seen, recognized. 

The quirk was interesting, repeating someones name. Elya never did that, however it was oddly something she appreciated. 

"*Danica Dimitriovna Belyaeva.*
That's a lovely name..."
Elya returned the favour, moving her non-Russian accent around the sounds best she could. She didn't stutter or stumble, and quickly committed it to memory. 
The last part was muttered mostly under her breath, in a wispy sort of mumble. 

"Im sure we will."

Elya usually didn't leave the kitchen until she had finished eating, so she gave Danica a soft sort of smile. It wasn't a massive change from her usual intense expression, but it was different. Equally pleasant. 

"I hope you have a lovely rest of your day." The girl turned her head slightly to the side.
David
"It is." Danica agreed. It was one of the few nicer things her mother had given her. 

"As is yours, Elya." It was sweet, short. 

She nodded, and smiled in return. 

"It's supposed to be sunny."

Elya probably had big curtains to support her fascination with the dark. Danica knew her own fondness of the sun was... Unique. She gave a small wave. 

"Goodbye." 

Like an apparition, with her hair bouncing behind her, Danica disappeared into the hall.
Jo
"Thank you." The compliment was again, something unknown, but far from unwelcome. 

"Goodbye." 
Elya wanted to return the wave, but didn't, and by the time she had recognized the lack of the gesture Danica had already begun walking down the hall. 

*It's supposed to be sunny.*

The sun was never something someone like Elya tended to appreciate, but today she looked out the nearby windows, out at the vast blue sky, with just a little bit more fondness.