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Who: Matt Murdock and YOU
Where: All over Haven
When: Early September
What: Going for a walk, trying to memorize the layout
Warnings: None to start, will update if needed

Matt tries to go for a walk every day, if he can. It helps him feel more comfortable with his surroundings. Helps him work on memorizing the way the town is laid out. Each building, both standing and ruined, each street, each stretch of dirt.

Sometimes, however, he concentrates a little too hard on the way the ground feels under his feet and not what's in front of him. So occasionally the sweep of his cane will knock into someone's ankles. "Sorry," he apologizes, taking a step back. "Wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

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Jayne isn't normally one of those types to go out for a walk just because but today he needs it. Today he needs to get out and work off some of the anger swirling inside of him over the fact that someone had been brave enough to go into his room and take Vera from him.

It is that kind of knowledge that has him glaring at almost everyone he comes across. At least until something hits his ankle and he stops to face the guy, ready to snap his head off until he realizes it's an accident. More so, why.

Still, he gives a bit of a sullen glare when he realizes he can't really take his anger out on this guy. "It's fine. Just don't swing it so much next time."

Never mind that he had been a bit too close.

"Oh-"

The yelp is small, voice a little hoarse - Donna stumbles a step, but doesn't fall. Spotting the cane, then Matt, she immediately understands, simply meaning to dismiss it as an accident.

Angie, on the other hand, isn't feeling as charitable, and her shrill voice and clacking jaw fill any gap of quiet there could possibly be.

"Watch where you're GOING, Mister! You almost TRIPPED Miss Donna, you big, stu-"

"Angie. No." The voice is similar, but very different. Shy. "It's all right. It was an accident."

He hears the sound of wood against wood, but can't quite wrap his head around what might be making that noise, out here. And then there's the two different voices, both of them coming at him from different angles, and his mind is working to try and figure out what exactly the scenario is, here.

"I -- apologize, Donna. And... Angie? I'm still learning my way around the town, and I was focusing my attention on what was under my feet instead of what was right in front of me. I'm sorry if I hit one of you with my cane."

"Well, swinging it does help keep me from fully running into you. Even if it does cause a few sore ankles." But he pulls his cane in closer to his body, leaning against it with a sheepish smile.

"I do apologize for hitting you with it, though. I wasn't focusing on where I was going as much as I should have." He holds his hand out in the space between them, his smile widening a little. "I'm Matthew."

While he is addressing the two of them, Donna just stands, anxious, patient, and near silent save for a subtle rasp to her breathing. Angie, on the other hand, is not content to sit still in Donna's arms - so she hops out of them, staring to drift circles around the stranger while sizing him up from all angles.

"Well you SHOULD be sorry! You're LUCKY Miss Donna is so NICE or-"

"Please. Stop." Donna paces forward a step, rolling her eyes behind her veil. Angie is impatient for the both of them, which usually is nice...but it does make these types of interactions that much more awkward. "It's all right. It must be...a little difficult here."

Oh. Now one of the voices is coming from somewhere around his knees. A child, maybe? But the voice seems to move, varying a little in height, which only serves to confuse Matt further.

So he chooses to address Donna instead, while he tries to figure out what is going on with her counterpart. "It isn't terrible, just new. That's why I've been going on these walks. Doing my best to uh, learn the ropes, if you will."

Malcolm is similarly not paying attention to where he's going. That morning, he noticed that his katana was missing. Back home, he collected antique weapons and that katana was always his favorite. He was thrilled to find that it had come here with him, but now it's gone.

Generally, he doesn't make a habit of carrying the sword around, though it depends on where he's going in Haven. Some places in this city require having a bit more personal protection.

How does one lose a katana though? Malcolm's retracing his steps, though surely he would have noticed if the sword had fallen off of his belt somewhere. He already tore his apartment apart, so he wants to make sure he didn't lose it somewhere outside before he considers other options.

Malcolm's standing at an intersection, trying to remember which way he had walked yesterday, when he feels something hit his leg. He turns to find Matt, cane in hand.

"That's alright," he replies, moving out of the way. "Need any help?"

"I'm all right, but I appreciate that offer. Unless you feel up for a walk." He smiles, holding his hand out between them. "I'm Matthew. I'm not new here, exactly. But I haven't been here long enough to really know my way around like I did in New York. So I go for a walk every day to memorize the layout."

He ducks his head and laughs self consciously. "I'm sorry, that was probably more information than you wanted."

The tap against his shoes had Miles finally tear his gaze away from his phone, glancing at the end of the cane first before looking up at the person holding it. He'd seen that kind of cane enough to know what it means.

"Hey, no problem, man," he replies. "It's all good. Need some help?"

Jayne can't tell him that having the man run fully into him would have been more preferable because, honestly, he might have tried pushing him for that. Which would have made him feel like an asshole afterward.

"It's fine, I've been hit with worse," He shrugs it off before glancing at the offered hand and reaching to take it with a little grunt. "Jayne."

"Malcolm," he replies, shaking the other man's hand. "I'm from New York too. Manhattan." The Upper East Side originally, but saying that one is from there engenders connotations that he'd rather avoid.

"Information is good." It's interesting to learn how blind people manage to get around. Many of the ones that he's met seem to do it surprisingly well. "I'll walk with you if you don't mind the company."

"Jayne. Nice to meet you." He hasn't come across many men with that name, but it probably wouldn't really behoove him to point that out. Jayne sounds like a rougher sort, so Matthew will tread lightly for the time being.

"Have you been here long?"

"Oh really? I'm a lifelong resident of Hell's Kitchen.

And no, I don't mind the company in the least. I've been meaning to meet more people. I suppose running into them is as good of a way to do it as any. Shall we?" he asks, and gestures in the direction he was headed.

The voice sounds younger, and Matt immediately feels bad for running into a kid. Teenager, maybe, given the height the voice is coming from. "I think I'm okay, but thank you. Apologies for running into you like this. I'm Matthew."

He laughs a little. "Like I said, no problem. I run into people all the time. I'm Miles."

He's about to offer his hand, because it still feels like the polite thing to do though Matthew might not realize what he's doing at first, when he suddenly feels his bag shift, and he glances back to see his orange-striped tabby pull itself out and onto his shoulder, before landing between them.

The cat looks at the end of the cane curiously before batting at it. "Yo, O'Malley! Knock it off."

"Really?" Malcolm falls into step beside him as the two of them walk. "There's a really good Irish pub in Hell's Kitchen that I used to go to a lot as a kid." With his father. He hasn't been there since his father went to prison.

"How long have you been here?" he asks.

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