Just north of the French Quarter was Louis Armstrong Park. Within the park was a historic landmark of New Orleans that heralded back to the era of slavery. Congo Square was a place where the slaves were allowed some time for relaxation and enjoyment once in a while, and was today marked with a large cobblestone walkway area. In the day, it wasn't odd for passerbys to see hot dog stands and the like, as people spent a day in the sun at the park with their kids.

At night, it was quiet, and only the light from street lamps lit the way. In the dark, any passer bys might not notice him, but Santino stood in the center of the walkway, wearing his iconic style of clothing, this time a pure white business suit, with a white button up shirt, and a black tie. His fedora was black as well, and worn partially obscuring his face. His head was bowed, and his eyes were closed, and with a small amount of power, he let the flow of the sands seep into the cobblestone. Like a computer, he collected data of those that had walked to the area. Most were of course of some insignificance, as the power wafting off from the stone bore no uniqueness to it. Humans, en masse.

He'd retract his power when he could find nothing. He had doubted his power would work to that extent. It was a big stretch from what he had been capable of in the past,  but it was never without practice and trying to out do your limitations that something was gained. With that attempted, he had nothing else planned for the evening, and so he would begin to wander the square.