There was no doubt that Belle was indeed the busy worker. A blur of plans in motion and plans yet slumbering. The weather had taken a turn for the grim. A downpour of cold, bitter rain put a dampener on her mood. Given the recent circumstances, however, that still put her in a better mood than most. She simply breathed in the air, remembering why she was here at all. A vile, roaming beast occupied this place, and she had recently been in the presence of his other. Why oh why. Her thoughts came slightly annoyed. Why oh why do this to yourself? The stranger came into town like any other, on the back of a cart. Hitchhiking wasn't luxurious, it wasn't comfortable, but it was effective, and it was cheap. She flung a coin at the driver. It was some kind of payment. He could live with it. Now it was a matter of finding him.
Not that finding such a creature was troublesome for her. All it took was a few moment of concentration, and the ability to pick out a disturbed mind in a crowd of mortal fools. There were bigger challenges known to her kind. One of which, she had performed only but a day ago. So far, she hadn't given herself time to realize she had to stop at some point. She caught him, and she reeled him.
"Bring him to me." Her thoughts brought her to a concealed room, hidden in a city under the shadow of a capitol. It concealed with a masters touch, because of it. But not that well. A bright red figure in a blue wall. Perfect. He'd worked himself up. One less job for her. Taking a moment to reflect on her rough-at-best plan, Belle began to slowly make her way towards a dangerous man, with a dangerous affliction.
~~~
Crawling her way inside the city, inside the buildings, inside the arteries and veins that fed the beating heart of a country on the brink, she forced herself unnoticed, with a mask, and a silent foot. Outside his door, she let him rage. It amused her at the very least. She crept in while he was too busy driving himself mad. It was hard to find good entertainment sometimes, and angry, mortal, men where often the best. Even better when you baited them.
"Blaith Harmond. Got it honey. Unlike you."
A coy, patronizing tone rung out from the other end of the room, breaking that fragile silence. Leaning on the frame of the smashed mirror, examining a piece of shattered glass, aloof and bored, a hooded figure. She pressed two fingers against the sharp edges, watching it tease against the flesh for blood, before she grimaced, and flung it back into the messy pile of shards on the floor with a sharp grating sound. Taking a moment to really survey the wasted glass, looking to the floor, she sighed. "It's a real shame I have to deal with so many men." Her voice came a tired fed up husk, sending her hidden gaze his way, and hand disappearing under the hood to press against her temple. "There really is a
limit, you know." A short indulgent chuckle from the hood of a cocky stranger. "You might want to try looking for it." The figure cocked her head to one side slightly is bemusement. "You aren't going to find it in the rain." A grim, wiry grin.
"Contrary to popular belief, rain does not indeed wash away your sins."