It was a pretty odd sight. Cold night, cold as all hell and then some, and it wasn't getting warmer anytime soon. The road that winded and weaved its way through the dense forest, lit up occasionally by a streetlights that glowed dim, bored-looking yellows that illuminated an area of 6 feet around the pole and nothing else. It was isolated, it was dark, and it was sketchy, yet Runner walked casually on the right shoulder of the asphalt, following the solid white line that set the firm boundaries on the road. He wore a thick sweatshirt with the word "Clemson" printed across the chest in bolded orange letters. A pair of jeans and sneakers capped off the unassuming outfit, but that wasn't the odd part of him. He held a thick, cast iron skillet loosely in his left hand, his upper body leaned slightly because of the weight. It didn't seem to be too uncomfortable, nor did it hinder his gait at all. But it was still weird, especially in the middle of nowhere.
Stardew appears in a pool of light. She's a portrait from another era, with a fedora tilted rakishly over her long-lashed eyes and a duster on top of a red flapper dress. There's something off about her, from the way her black-and-blonde hair is braided with gems to the way her dark skin seems to shimmer flatteringly to the look in her deep aquamarine eyes.
"Good evening. Devil of a night, isn't it?"
(So, is she a demon of some sort? If not, what are her magical abilities? Runner typically states these things when he firsts meets someone)
(She's part elf. Not the pointy-eared kind, the Seelie/Unseelie Court kind. Does she fit with Runner's story? Like, is there magic in your world?)
(Yeah, he's just kinda freeform. Fits with damn near everything) He studied the girl up and down, him hazel eyes glinting off of some unseen light sorce. "Something regal. Strong presence. Hm…elf?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.
She gave a light round of applause.
"Wonderful! I am, indeed, part elf. And you? Do you have anything magical about you that you care to share?"
"I actually don't. I'm just more…observant than the average guy."
She tilted her head.
"Well, that's fascinating. Did you teach yourself this skill? Usually humans don't bother trying to figure out what I am."
She grinned.
"They're more curious about what I can teach them, what I have to offer."
"No, the spirits of a city did. And it's not just you. I try to figure out everything I can when I meet a new person." He locked eyes with her. "You're not just an elf, though. Something else, an aftertaste of something familiar."
She shrugged. "I am also part vampire, if that's what you're picking up, but really it's all but useless. Just some part of me that's dead. Well, it keeps my hair and nails in good condition." She tosses her head to demonstrate that her hair is, indeed, glossy and strong.
"Or perhaps you mean most of me is human?"
He nodded. "Elfin magic is so strong that it overpowers most other parts of a being. The human part was just barely prodding its way out."
"I suppose it doesn't help I rely on my elfin magic for my bread and butter," she said, flicking a bit of lint off her duster. "My humanity is what I rely upon to keep me … myself. But it can be a nuisance sometimes."
He rubbed his nose with the back of his left hand, the pan partially obscuring his face for a moment. "What brings an elf out here in the middle of nowhere?"
"A mixture of wanderlust and business, Mr. …?"
"Can't imagine there being much business out here."
She gave a smile.
"With my friends, there's always business to be done."
"Fair enough. Yet, I sense no one else around."
"Oh, I was planning to walk thataway for a stretch" – she nods her head to the right– "and meet them there." She pauses. "Care to join me? I'm sure they'd be glad to meet you."
He shrugged. "Got nothing better to do."
She smiles. "Adventuring spirit! Wonderful. Follow me." She begins to lead him into the forest.
He followed her casually, his pan held loosely by his side
She hums under her breath as she moves through the dense trees, and eventually stops at a clearing. It seems to be vacant, until she claps her hands.
A voice drifts down.
"Ever been kicked?"
"Might have been," she replies. "Oh, come off it, Trouble, you know it's me."
"Can't be too careful," the voice replies, and a figure leaps down from a nearby tree. He's a trifle shorter than Stardew, with a ever so slightly lighter skin tone and eyes with a black sclera and a silver iris. He's dressed in an outfit that wouldn't look out of place on a Victorian-era gentleman, excepting the walking stick.
He lands catlike, and at the sight of Runner murmurs something that makes his eyes normal, if heterochromia.
"So who're you, then?" he asks Runner.
"You're also an elf." Wasn't a question, just a simple fact. "But you don't feel human. Something like a cat."
Trouble raises an eyebrow.
"Already dissecting me, huh? You and Stardew'll get along famously, then." He coughs and glances around. "Damn it, Foxglove …"
He frowns, looking around. "Something feels slightly off. A pressure on the back of my neck." He closed his eyes tightly. "Man, something dark. Real dark….hungry. Very, very hungry. But not for food….for LIFE."
