"Just rolled into town?" Though his glasses make it hard to tell, it seems like Danny's eyes flicker away for a moment. Still, the corners of his eyes crease when he smiles, and he doesn't break the stranger's gaze again. "Well, welcome to Roseville. I'm Jed Olsen. Journalist at the Roseville gazette." He reaches out a hand to shake, gauges the other by his handshake. "'Fraid you've arrived at a bad time, though. There's a rash of crime in the area. Stalking, murders... If you're just passing through, you should be all right, though. If you're just passing through...?"
Americans sure are an interesting lot, aren't they. It's one of the things Julian's picked up on their roadtrip across the country. Friendly to a fault. Loud. (Not as loud as their tourists, though, so they're thankful for that at the least.) A bit odd.
They smile, putting aside their mug of diner coffee. Their handshake's firm but not overpowering - average, really, as much as a handshake can be.
Their smile fades a little at the mention of murder, as one would expect.
“Ah- I was thinking about staying a few days, truthfully,” to take the heat off, “but I might mosey along now that you’ve... informed me.”
Julian frowns. “Lucas Dumont. I can’t imagine that that’s easy to write about, Mr. Olsen...”
Perhaps that’s why he’s looking so intently at them. It’s a bit disconcerting, really. They’ve done their best to fade to the background... they even have that from-nowhere-in-particular American accent that slides away from people’s memories like, to use something of an Americanism, water off a duck’s back. But he keeps staring. Perhaps it’s just a habit from being a reporter. Best to keep one’s eyes open and all that.
They sigh, shaking their head. “Forgive me if I seem off. It’s not every day that you’re told that a nice little town like this is... well, dealing with crimes like that.”
