A woman with no name slips in the negative space between bodies. There are lights, music, smells and activity; it's as though sound itself has color weaved into it. The market has a buzzing about it, an excitement that could intoxicate any goer. She feels it in her gut, tempting her, pulling pitch black eyes to a colorful object in a stand, or an owner boasting her unique assortments to the public eye. It is an entrancing feeling, she'll give it that.
But the woman with no name continues to walk. Engaging was not quite on her mind, she'd always been more of an observer, a window gazer, a wallflower. She would not know how to start a conversation, anyway, as embarrassing as that thought was. But she felt detached and odd in a sea of so many, even if she'd made her home here not so long ago. It had been difficult and unnatural to plant herself somewhere, but she knows if she is to grow at all it must be somewhere. Somewhere safe, and what better place to be than where the night sky, the moon, and all the stars are most beloved?
The Black Doe continues on, passing by what feels like lengths upon eternal lengths of the smell of food, the glint of silver jewelry, remarkable hues of cloth, the lilting sound of music, the energy of a dancer. She does, finally, stop to cling to a corner of the streets; somewhere that is just beside a brightly colored stand, though cut off by thin linen which covers it all around, save for the entrance. Inside, the owner is speaking to some several customers curious of their wares in one way or another ― she can hear the conversation, but it serves more as an addition to the din of the Night Market than anything of genuine interest.
But something pulls her attention another way, and her abyssal gaze lands upon something, someone, in the crowd. Before her, a good ways away, she cannot help being metaphorically grabbed by something that interests her, though she cannot exactly place what it is. It isn't an unknown feeling, she's used to the perplexity, but it does prompt her curiosity to bubble in her chest. Something tells her staring at them will be enough ― but this could be folly, or simple foolishness as she tries to make up every excuse to not approach the subject of her interest with questionable reasoning in her mind ― and though she stays still and silent as she is, she has a forlorn hope she is noticed.
It had been far too long without genuine conversation or interaction, and even in her lifestyle of solitude, it did get lonesome.
Morrighan is conflicted, like she always seems to be these days. She took a risk, an even bigger one than before, and it had been great in the moment. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before, almost as if she was flying in the sky without a care in the world.
It actually made her feel a little sick.
She keeps trying to push it out of her mind and swallow down the butterflies fluttering in her chest. She's imagined herself burning them until they're nothing but ash, but it doesn't work. Her mind will only wander to something else temporarily and something makes her think of it all again.
Even just the name Zahra is enough to throw her off.
Bram sits by her side as she stands at a corner of the market. It's away from all the chaos, but at a good point where she can still see a lot of what's happening. There's nothing really unusual in the markets today, so it's not quite as distracting as she was hoping. Instead, she's decided to play with her magic and maybe "accidentally" burn a few things. Nothing important of course, just things people wouldn't notice were burned until they go to pack their tents up later.
For now, she plays with a small ball of fire by her feet like it's a rock she's kicking back and forth. It's actually kind of mesmerizing and does distract her for a moment. That is, until she gets a sense of being watched. It's like a pair of eyes are burning into her and she turns to scan the crowd.
A pitch black figure across the way catches her attention. It seems they may have been the ones to be staring, but it's hard to tell. Still, they quickly become a person of interest to Morrighan and she gets up without a word. Bram follows anyway, feeling just as curious as his companion.
When the pair approach, this stranger seems like nothing but a shadow. She has to blink a few times just to make sure she's speaking to a physical being. What strange sorcery this is.
"Don't you know it's rude to stare?" the Warden asks, not caring that she's accusing them without knowing for sure. She raises a brow to show her suspicion. "Who are you and what is your business here?" It comes out as a demand and if whoever this is knows what's good for them, they would explain themselves. They're not anyone she's seen before, or any type of magic for that matter. For that, she makes a threat by igniting fire at her feet.
There is a surge inside her of something electric. As the pair approach, she finds a soft and subtle panic send her heart a'flutter. Only for but a moment does the feeling settle, until she can manage to regain her bearings again. It's not a hard thing to lose, but it is perhaps her mutual curiosity that betrays her, tempts her to lose it. Eyes continue to follow and assess the other soul, the bonded at her side, and finally as she stands before her then. Her head tilts downward, ears erect, and she never looks away. She wonders what kind of dynamic this conversation, this stranger, would have, and she's ever so eager to learn it.
Don't you know it's rude to stare?
Long-lashed eyes blink as she takes in the first words. She still never removes her eyes. "...No." She doesn't seem perturbed by the accusation, either ― it was more of a contemplative curiosity, an impartial, unshielded fact of a reply. She isn't used to small talk, so there's a decent amount of strange appreciation that they were beginning how they were. It made things far more interesting, after all. When she's asked the next question, her eyes turn then to the numerous goers around them; the tents, the colors, the bodies walking and talking amongst themselves. Some more lively than the next, but all with a particular buzz of excitement or curiosity to them. She stares at them a little longer than what might be considered normal, and it almost seems as though Morrighan had lost her to her inner thoughts, before finally and suddenly she speaks. "What is anyone's business here?" Maybe the wrong move, but the words had come to her and rebuffed the other's question with her own. She hadn't been meant to be rude, but might very well be taken that way. She did not recognize her as a Warden, less so even of a Counsel member; but it'd be just as likely she wouldn't have given her any other treatment than what she's giving now, regardless. And then, as the question itself is more intended as a thought-provoker, a rhetoric, she speaks a little bit further, divulges just a little more. Her head turns back to Morrighan, and those black eyes once more find her own earth-and-sky gaze. "I could not sleep."
While she slips to a familiar quiet again, waiting for Morrighan's reply, her eyes trail to the second pair that she'd been feeling on her, but had been quiet so far. Silently her head tilts a little more downward to the wolf at her side, composed and curious at the creature, and not wanting to leave him out of the interaction, she offers an inquisitive, "hello," to him in turn.
And, as she waits with composed patience, she realizes how like to her element this mare seemed. She remembers seeing the fire flit from hoof to hoof, an entrancing display of a seamless stretch of her magical abilities no less. And so thereafter she had approached forward, unabashed, unafraid ― and she finds it pleasantly harmonized in its own way. Something to appreciate.
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Speech.
@Morrighan
ooc
shhh we love her!!! give us all of morrighan ♥
As the woman stares blankly at Morrighan, it only riles her up more. She can't believe someone didn't teach her common sense growing up. Was she raised by wolves? Bram gives her a sideways glance.
Instead of stating her name and purpose, the woman's eyes drift off, becoming distracted at something farther away. The fire at Morrighan's feet only gets bigger; surely this stranger can feel the heat by now? It doesn't seem to matter though and Morr narrows her eyes. She has half a mind to just throw her out and be done with it. If she had been someone important within the Court, it would've been clear by now. She seems nothing more than an odd trespasser. Most likely harmless, but still a trespasser.
"A wise ass, I see," she grumbles in response, not caring for their insomnia, even if she deals with it as well. "Everyone has a purpose in the Court. Mine is to be the Warden and make sure borders are secure and things are running smoothly." The fire flickers dangerously as if to emphasize how much she means business and how important it is to pay attention. In this woman's mannerisms, she almost doesn't seem all there and so maybe this is all pointless. Maybe she's too stupid to understand.
"So, I'll ask you again," she growls, with Bram showing his teeth too. The timber wolf acknowledges the woman saying hello, but there is nothing friendly about his stance. In a way, he mirrors Morrighan's fire with his hackles raised. "Who are you? What is your name?" It comes out louder and as a demand, hopefully getting through this woman's thick skull more clearly. If not, she will soon find out what comes next and why you should not play games with the Warden.
She can feel the fire's resonance between them; like standing very near a glowing hearth, that which grows each second second is made to overlook it. The woman hadn't meant to ignore the query in truth, but her mind had drifted as it so often did and there was not much helping it now. When Morrighan reaffirms her social stance, black eyes look over her slowly and carefully, almost curiously. There's something inquisitive that sits on the very tip of her tongue, but she bites it back for now. The span of her attention is lost again, momentarily, by the way the flame had now only continued to grow. The orange of its light glows warm and hot against her chest, front legs, and the lower reaches of her neck, and it's on the way to becoming uncomfortable.
And then the fiery woman is now repeating her question, and the wolf at her side accentuates her point transparently. She does not seem to mind the display of tension, although her own has become a tad more erect. Her heart is beats but not from fear, rather from the degree of intensity this encounter was proving to have.
When she has finished all she has to say, and she is certain of this, the nameless woman finally seems to perk up just a bit. Her motions are still subtle and restrained, even distant, but she now stares directly at her now, again.
"You say your purpose is to ensure things are running smoothly, but were they not, Warden?" There is no hostility in her voice, but rather a soft sense of inquiry, if not one of preservation and acuity. The same question that had rested just behind her lips just moments before, now come to fruition. "I do not understand why my non-complacency has caused you to suspect malintent. I assure you my intentions are far from and your suspicions are misplaced. I have come simply to enjoy the lights this night to distract a restless mind, nothing more."
Her words are genuine, if not the same amount of disconnected curiosity that she has shown before. She does, however, finally answer her questions. "I regret to admit that I have no name to offer you, and that is a sworn truth. Nor would I know how to answer your former question. You may lower your hackles now, lest you remain so keen on inquiring me further." She does not seem so against the idea, but she does take a step back (even if there is only cobblestone wall behind her) as though to silently dismiss herself.
Despite herself, Morrighan's energy was powerful; and it is all too easy to shrink against so much of that kind of intensity.
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Speech.
@Morrighan
ooc
lmao all good honestly! it all makes for some interesting lil drama between them <3 i appreciate her and her fiery-ness so much
There is something about this woman that Morrighan doesn't like. Something that rubs her the wrong way and makes her keep narrowing her eyes. Although, it doesn't usually take much for her to feel this way towards others.
This feeling only grows stronger at what the mare says next. While her tone isn't hostile, Morr gets defensive anyways and her fire flares up higher. "I don't know, were they?" she snaps back, nostrils flaring. The woman of shadows claims to be here for nothing more than the sights, but there's always something more to it. Denocte doesn't bring just anyone to its markets- even some of the merchants seem shady. Her mind will always go to Raum and how his followers seemed to be everywhere. Surely there were still some stragglers about.
And a woman without a name? What better spy than that?
"If you were a member of this Court, you would understand," is all she cares to say on the subject. If she is Night Court, she's surely new and very ignorant.
Then she insists she still has no name and they should lower their hackles. Bram side-glances at Morr and she hesitates before giving him a nod. His snarl disappears, but his fur is still on end. Morr is still tense and not completely convinced, but maybe they should hear her out, even if it's just for a moment.
"Fine," she grumbles, letting her fire come back ever so slightly. It continues to burn in between them, but it's not so intense now. Only when she's sure this woman is no threat will she snuff it out.
"Why the restless mind?" Morrighan asks, almost like she's interrogating her, but still has a hint of curiosity. Someone with a lot on their mind is still suspicious. Either way, getting a look into the woman's mind could help determine true intentions.
It's impossible not to turn her head and flinch away from the venom that seethes from the woman's voice, even still. Her fire is perfectly in tune with her emotions, this was apparent more and more through their interaction, and while the aggression is an easy put-off to the Doe, there's something within her that doesn't want the flame to grow any further. For her own sake, perhaps, as she can nearly feel the flames lick at her chest, her skin.
A slow breath is let out when she finally settles with the words on her own lack of understanding of the workings here. Of course she was Night Court, in all technicality, but did she really belong here? It is a longing to find somewhere that might feel like home, deeply embedded in her chest, but she knows this is just a feeling. There were, in all rights, so many things she did not know still of this place, of this world. She wouldn't truly belong here - not for a long time. But that was why there were beginnings to all things, just as the world feels the first touch of cold only for it to melt away into the warmth of spring. And all over again.
Perhaps she'd find her spring here. Somewhere.
Her own body relaxes as Morrighan appears to, finally, and her companion's snarl fades hesitantly. As it was angled away before against the intensity of the fire, her head turns back just as slow, carefully, to face the Warden again. While things aren't necessarily normal, nor does she expect them to be, it's enough at least to speak back with a little less defense.
"...It's always been this way. For me, at least," and while she nearly stops there, figures that if there's a way to ease the lingering tension even a bit, it might be necessary to share a bit more than that. "I usually spend the night regarding the stars in silence. But the sounds of the markets are a little more welcome, better than listening to my own thoughts for once."
She takes a moment to think, and then reaches just slightly to Morrighan's own cause for being here, even if she'd affirmed her duty just before. "Are you here on duty alone, Warden? Or are yours nights restless, too?" She tries to make her questions unassuming and unprying, for all they could be. She by no means wishes to pry, and she'd be just as content if Morrighan decided to dissuade her queries instead for some of her own.
As she slowly lets her muscles relax, she realizes this nameless woman might not be much of a threat after all. Too often will Morrighan find her own mind restless and wandering, sometimes lost in her thoughts at night and causes her not to sleep. At the same time, she finds it easier to be a night owl. While it's usually quiet, one could still hear the bustling of the markets in the distance. It broke up the silence just enough to keep her at ease. She can't remember how she could possibly relax before she came to Novus. It seemed a lot harder without this background noise.
Still, how one could walk through life without a name is beyond her. At least call yourself something.
Morrighan found herself staring off into the crowds, so she turns back to look at the woman. It still partly feels like she's talking to a shadow and not a living being with how deeply black her coat is.
The next question gets a bit personal, so she doesn't answer right away. Part of her is annoyed there is something relatable to this conversation when originally she was supposed to be interrogating her.
"I always work alone," she replies with a shrug. It's easier that way. "But maybe that's it too." She grits her teeth. It's a confession, but not one that will reveal much detail. If that's what this woman was hoping for, she would be greatly disappointed.
If anything, Morrighan hates small talk or opening herself up to anyone. Already she feels a need to get back to work and distract herself from her restless, cluttered mind.
