Incompatible

In the little town of Fowlerville a young woman practiced her dance routine for the 13th time that night. Her long curly hair flowed around her face as she moved with an unnatural grace. Her eyes, normally a sparkling blue green, were hidden behind her closed lids. The girls name is Luella Moreau. Her history we will learn soon, but for now we focus on the present. She stopped on time with the music then opened her practically glowing eyes. She looked at her watch with a sigh then started to pack her things. She would have to run to work.

A seemingly young man ran with incredible speed through the forest. The wind blew his dark hair in all directions, making it messier than usual, as his dark almost black eyes scanned the path ahead of him. Lukan Arkwright is his name, and like the girl, we will learn his history soon enough. He made it to outskirts of London then stopped. His eyes roamed his surrounding for a moment before he composed himself then walked at a normal pace into the city.

Luella walked into the local bookstore and smiled at the man behind the register. She walked to a closet in the back of the store and got out her black vest as the man walked up to her. "You look tired." he noted. He was an older man with graying hair and soft blue eyes. Luella flashed him a smile as she put on her vest. "I was practicing." The man laughed. "You dance beautifully already dear." Luella's eyes lit up, making them even brighter than before. "Thank you Sam." She gave him a short hug then got to work.

"We are now descending in New York City. Thank you for flying London Airways." Lukan opened his eyes and a small smirk played on his lips. He walked off the plane with his single carry on bag and hailed a taxi. "Where to?" the driver asked. He was surprised with the smoothness of Lukans voice as he answered, his British accent obvious. "Take me to the Fowlerville hotel."