July 2nd, 1888 - Salem Square, Irvingly

Marlowe had grown increasingly frustrated with the awful fog that had taken over. The darkness that had plagued them had only made matters worse but at least it had faded. Unlike the fog. It was a constant hindrance to her everyday life and she could only imagine how badly her family was doing with it. Their livelihood depended on selling their wares and without the magic to make truly magnificent pieces, they were likely floundering. Marli at least had her income as a lady's maid to see her through but it still bothered her more than she cared to admit. As a result, she'd decided she'd visit her family while Miss Nimmie worked steadily away on her latest novel.

She'd informed Miss Nimmie then promptly wrapped herself up in a shawl, draping it over her face partially to fight the dusty smell the fog had brought with it. One would have thought that after nearly a month of traversing in the fog, she'd have known the path to her parent's home like she did the back of her hand. Unfortunately, it never seemed to work in such a way and instead she found herself walking an all new path.

As she drew near to the square, she felt a decent comfort in the familiar ground. That would be where she went wrong. Feeling comfortable, she picked up her pace a little more and unbeknownst to her she drew closer to the fountain in the middle of the square. Soon enough, she collided bodily with someone but before an apology could be made she found herself falling. And it wasn't onto the ground.

With a great splash, she gasped at the sudden coldness as the fountain water drenched her from head to toe.

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It was, Atticus thought, a relief that the Ministry of Magic was finally doing something about this insufferable fog, and more of a relief still that his sister had elected not to partake. He walked out of doors with a bit more confidence, thus, as the fog would—he was quite sure!—soon be brought to an end. A lantern flickered in his left hand as he made his way from the inn to the centre of the square, the bustling activity within having given him something of a headache.

Carefully, the muggle perched on the side of the fountain, setting the lantern to rest beside him. Its warm glow illuminated his immediate area, though even the relatively near-by inn was now all but invisible. He sat that way for several minutes, relishing the quiet that the fog had brought to the street. While it was rather tedious, as weather went, Atticus did not mind it as much as the magic-folk did. He supposed that was hardly surprising.

The inkeep found himself drawn from that line of thought by the sound of a splash several feet away, but still along the ledge of the fountain. Instinctively, he moved to his feet, holding his lantern up to reveal a felled woman in the "depths" (if they could be called that) of the gurgling fountain.

"Miss, are you alright?" Atticus asked, concern evident in his voice as he moved to be closer to her. The lantern created a dome of visibility about them.

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There wasn't enough water to drown Marli but she was certainly still drenched to the very bone as she sat in the fountain nearly blind thanks to the drenched hair in her face and the fog. But then a gentleman was asking if she was alright and shining a lantern in her direction. She blinked at the brightness of it, teeth chattering.

"F-fine," she called back with a bit of a stutter, "J-just c-c-cold." She tried to pull herself from the fountain only to slip again with another splash. Great.

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Her efforts at freeing herself proved futile, and Atticus hastily rolled up his sleeves before holding both arms out to her. Though it was summer, the fog had dampened the heat of the sun, making the air not much warmer than the water in which she sat.

“Here, please let me help,” the muggle offered, taking a step closer to the edge of the fountain.

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Marli looked up at him a bit wide eyed as he came closer and offered help in getting her out. "T-thank you," she managed to stutter as she reached up for his own arms. She just hoped that he wouldn't find himself soaked in the fountain as a result.

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He grabbed her as gently as he could while still being useful, assisting the dripping woman as she climbed out from the fountain. She looked miserable, but Atticus knew it would be ungallant to say such a thing. Instead, the muggle offered her his coat—much more chivalrous!—to fight against the breeze, for she had been through enough without catching a chill, too!

“Is that better?” Atticus asked with a kindly smile.

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Luckily, he had a better footing than Marli had and he was able to pull her from the fountain without incident. She would have felt absolutely awful if he'd have ended up in the fountain with her though so she was quite glad it hadn't ended that way. She was, however, hesitant to take his coat at first. He'd already helped her immensely and she hated the thought of ruining his coat. Her shivering body ended up winning out though and she soon had it draped over her shoulders and clutched in her hands in front of her to try and gain whatever warmth she could muster.

"Y-yes," she said through chattering teeth, "I-I'm s-s-sorry to be a b-bother. I'll see t-to it that the c-coat is c-c-cleaned then returned."

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“Nonsense," Atticus chided as he might one of his nieces. "Let me at least escort you somewhere warm and dry—I should not feel right, leaving you to fend for yourself."

Not with the fog the way it was—Heven help her, she might have wandered for hours before she found her way home on her own; Atticus had heard that such things were happening more and more frequently.

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Nodding a bit meekly, Marli tried to offer him the best smile she could muster. He was certainly a kind gentleman, she had to give him that much. Though she still felt horribly embarrassed by the whole situation. If only she'd been paying more attention, they wouldn't be stuck in such a predicament at all!

"P-perhaps the c-cafe?" she said in a questioning sort of tone. She could easily get warmed up and dry there then be on her way back home. She didn't want to drag him all over Irvingly, after all. There was no need for him to have to see her all the way off to Miss Nimmie's cottage.

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“As the lady wishes," he replied gallantly with a bit of ham, gesturing in the direction of the cafe. Probably. The fog made getting from point A to point B something of a nightmare.

"Atticus Sharpe, by the by," Atticus offered as the pair walked. It seemed rude to continue any further in such ignorance. "Innkeep at the Irvingly Arms."

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Marli couldn't help the soft laugh that left her as the man did what he could to add some humor to the situation. She truly began to smile then as she followed along with him, still clutching his coat tightly around her shivering frame.

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Sharpe," she responded in kind, "Marlowe Johnson, lady's maid." It was nowhere near as lofty a position as being an innkeeper but she was far from sad with her lot in life. She actually quite enjoyed her position with Miss Nimmie.

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He smiled in acknowledgement, though was uncertain if the fog would allow it to be seen—the unnatural cover seemed to have a way of thickening and thinning at will, almost as though it had a mind of its own. Perhaps it did; after all, it was not like any proper fog Atticus had ever known.

The two made short work of their trek across the square and, mercifully, arrived at the intended destination with little enough fuss.

"You take a seat, Miss Johnson," he directed amiably, "and I shall fetch us something hot to drink."

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Marli nodded a bit meekly as she obeyed his instruction. She felt a bit embarrassed with at all but she was still quite appreciative of it all. He'd gone far and above what was necessary, after all. She had gotten lucky with encountering a true gentleman in her clumsy moment.

Settling in the seat, she continued to clutch his jacket around her though the shivering had certainly lessened since they'd gotten into the warmth of the cafe. Smiling up at him when she returned, she nodded. "Thank you," she said softly, "You really didn't have to though I very much appreciate it."

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It was minutes, rather than moments, before Atticus was able to return, but when he did it was with two mugs of warm milk—the fog had a way of seeping into one’s bones and leaving a lingering chill, and it seemed companionable to him that he should join her.

“I know,” he said with a chuckle as he set the mugs on the table, “but I should not have felt right if I did not.” Already, Miss Johnson was beginning to look better, Atticus thought, though he was not certain if that was due to the warmth or simply the lighting of the place.

“As well, my sister works as a nurse, and so I have heard time and time again the dangers of allowing one to catch a chill. If a simple act of kindness can prevent such a thing, well, I would be quite the cad to refuse it.”

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Marli nodded with a smile as she reached for the warm mug of milk. She sipped on it lightly, enjoying the warmth it seemed to help instantly bring to her chilled body. It was doing just the trick and she wasn't quite sure how she'd ever be able to express her gratitude to Mr. Sharpe.

"I'm sure your sister would be quite proud then," she responded as she set the mug back to the table, "Not just for your act of kindness but for listening to her as well. I know I'd feel similarly if my brother should have heeded me in a situation." Brothers, especially if they were older, didn't always listen to their sisters. At least, that was of her experience.

"I'd like to repay you somehow," she added, feeling a bit sheepish but felt it necessary regardless, "I don't really have much but, I do make glass bead jewelry. My family is quite skilled with glass blowing as well. Perhaps a bracelet to give to your sister? Or I could get a bowl or vase from my mother if you'd prefer."

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“There is absolutely no need,” Atticus reassured her for the umpteenth time. Bar his actual occupation, there was nothing the man did for which he would expect—or ask—anything in return, and Miss Johnson had already had quite the day. He did not wish to add to her burdens.

Although— “I do, though, have two young nieces. If you would sometime show me some of your wares, I should be honoured to purchase some for them.”

There. She could provide him a service in exchange, it would benefit his nieces and not Atticus himself, and he would give Miss Johnson some money for her troubles. It was the closest thing to repayment that the innkeep felt comfortable consenting to.

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