Ahh, back to the land of his birth. Wonderful food, a population that would do anything for cheap plastic beads, and weather with more mood swings than a needy ex-girlfriend.

Today had actually been pretty nice for the most part. Ike liked it just a bit on the chilly side, enough to counteract the lovely humidity he'd lived in most of his life, and today he'd gotten that on his way in to New Orleans. He hadn't been back here in....Lord have mercy, seven years? And it was just a shame to have come back too late for Mardi Gras. He'd missed out on king cake season and for a guy who ingested sugar like most people did water, that was a horrible horrible miscalculation on his part. Not that he hadn't eaten a few king cakes, up in Tennessee, but it just wasn't the same. They didn't know how to really make a standout king cake, not like people down here. He'd even detoured home to get his fill of meat pies, straight from the source! Well, and to see Mom and Dad. Too bad Angie hadn't been there, it had been...what? Over a decade, for sure, since he'd last seen his sister in person.

Well, whatever. They stayed in contact by text messages, and she was working in the gulf somewhere, so Isaac might get the chance to see her sooner than he expected. And there would always be another Mardi Gras. At least the shelves were now stocked with chocolate bunnies so big you could use them for baseball bats. Isaac felt like he probably cut quite a figure as he strolled through the public park, in an old AC/DC shirt, faded jeans, and muddy brown work boots, with an old guitar flung over his back without even a case and the handle of a lollipop sticking out of his mouth.

Watermelon Jolly Rancher lollipop, thank you. He was a man of culture, after all.

He'd spent about an hour walking the park, just relaxing for a bit. He wasn't sure how to go about putting his foot in the door of the underworld rumors said existed here. Well, he was in no hurry, either; all would come in good time. Ike stopped at the next park bench, pulling his guitar off his back and sitting down, swirling the candy around in his mouth for a moment. Then, just because he had nothing better to do, he leaned his head back to watch the clouds, the invisible threads of his powers keeping his neck propped up so it wouldn't get stiff and sore from sitting like this, and began to absentmindedly strum out an old tune on the guitar in his lap.

Yes, a nice day indeed.