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Hugging several records to her chest, Chandra reached out to pluck another one off the shelf in front of her. This tiny hole in the wall music store had been quite the find and she jealously guarded her time here, hiding its existence from her entire household. The time she spent here thumbing through old records to add to her growing collection was some of the only time she had to relax. The place really was a haven of sorts.

Studying the back of the Pink Floyd album she had plucked from amongst the multicolored multitude leaning together on the shelf, Chandra couldn't help but wonder what it was that possessed humans to make music. It wasn't as if most of them were even aware of the power it could have - at least conciously.

"Can I help you?"

Chandra started slightly as one of the sales staff spoke from beside her and shook her head furiously, eyes wide. The records she had been clutching began to slide against the smooth fabric of her dress and both she and the helpful young man lurched forward at the same time.

Moments later, sitting on the floor - Chandra favored the young sales person with a look and spoke quietly (dispelling the popular rumor that she was some sort of ghost).

"I am quite alright without any assistance."

Nervously swallowing at the unntural seriousness in Chandra's tone, the young man stood quickly and backed out through the slightly maze-like shelves until he was out of sight. Chandra, having already dismissed him from her mind, reached out and pulled another record into her lap for inspection.

A jingle as the shop door opens and closes briefly attracts Chandra's attention, but as the average customer is about as social as she is - she doesn't worry about it overly much. As the newly entered customers speak to eachother, she rolls her eyes a bit and stands.

Hefting a growing pile of records in front of her, Chandra turns and favors the doorway with a scowl - hoping to convey her distaste for noise. She doesn't recognize the woman and she softens her scowl. New people can be forgiven their rudeness - they just haven't absorbed the atmosphere here yet.

Looking down at her pile, Chandra begins to thumb through things to figure out the damage. While she didn't have many expenses, an allowance didn't really go that far. She would likely need to find another source of cash soon if she intended to continue shopping.

"Five, ten, ..." Chandra muttered to herself, adding things up as she began to walk back towards the front of the store. It was a good thing used records were so cheap. As she absently reached up to brush back a chunk of hair behind her ear, balancing the records on one arm, the Pink Floyd album slipped out of place and raced towards the floor.

"Or anything." Chandra corrects, reaching out for her record. Her face is already flushed, a combination of the fact that she has very pale skin and her embarassment at having been caught being so clumsy by a child.

Raising her eyes to his as she grabs for the record, Chandra stops short and the blood drains out of her face abruptly. She can feel it, the cooling feeling of her cheeks losing blood and the sinking feeling in her stomach that often accompanies it - as if she had just plunged over a cliff of indterminate height.

"Oh," is all she can muster, whispering. She studies the boy in front of her, working her way from his feet up to his trademark red hair.

"You look like someone I used to know," she says to excuse her rudeness. "But he was older than you."

The rational part of Chandra's mind is already pushing her to take the record and go, but her body doesn't seem to want to move. So instead she just stands there gaping, one pale hand extended.

"I'm sorry?" she says, making it a question when she doesn't mean to. "Dare?"

Startled, Chandra dumbly nods as the little boy tells her he isn't who she thinks he is. She doesn't believe him, especially not after he hands her the record - but she is confused and a little hurt.

Tucking the Pink Floyd album back into her pile and setting the whole thing carefully on the shelf beside her, she makes her voice as neutral as possible.

"You are taking this whole thing a little far are you not?" she asks, plainly irritated, despite her attempts to hide it. "I realize we parted under less than ideal circumstances, but I really do not think you need to pretend you do not know me."

Catching herself, Chandra takes a deep breath and reaches out for Dare's shoulder to turn him around. If he is going to continue lying to her, she wants him to have to do it to her face.

"I know you are Dare. Either that or you mugged him, which considering your diminutive size I find difficult to image."

Certain in her logic, Chandra holds up her own ever present crescent moon shaped charm so the boy can see if he turns.

"You have his hourglass charm."

Chandra softens slightly at Dare's admission that she is correct, although she tries not to show it - keeping as close a semblance to her natural icy demeanor as possible. Swallowing, she picks back up the records she placed on the top of the shelf beside her.

"Logic has never played any role in our relationship, Dare. You can see through time and I speak to the Dead."

She spoke softly, her voice pitched such that he would only barely be able to hear her.

"Would you like to go somewhere else? The staff here, while friendly, is likely to listen in on any conversation we have."

Chandra favored him with a slightly wistful look, hugging her records in close as if they could serve as some sort of shield.

"I have been struggling with destiny as well. Perhaps we could... empathize with one another?"

"Cheeky," Chandra commented dryly. "Should children like you really be out unaccompanied?"

She glanced around, trying to get her eye on the woman she had glared at by the door. It would make sense if Dare was not in fact unaccompanied on his trip to the record store.

Raising one delicate eyebrow, Chandra set the records down again - this time without any regard for the delicate balance of the pile. She kneeled, getting much closer to Dare, but careful not to actually touch him.

"Are you ok?" She asked quietly. Her tone implied that the question could mean more than the usual limited social function it served.

"I see," Chandra said, her eyes narrowing. "Are we going to be stopped if I attempt to take you elsewhere to speak more freely?"

She stays kneeling, also more comfortable with less of a difference in height. It feels so odd to be taller than someone she thinks of as older. It s a reversal of roles which makes her uncomfortable. She isn't comfortable with the idea that she might be the one who needs to lead.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Chandra attempts to smile - she finds that people often find such a guesture reassuring in this sort of situation.