Ophelia
The night merchants of Torchline are strange. Shifty, snappy, beady-eyed - and at a loss as to what to make of Ophelia. They don’t mind, they’re rather used to that. It’s amusing to watch them falter when their sharp words do nothing to cut through the dreamlike expression on their face, continuing on in their questions as if the seller had never spoken. A shame they can’t come in the daylight, they wonder if it’s much different.
They’re departing with a less than legal jar of liquid when they’re bodily accosted by another shopper, sending them stumbling back hard (because the stranger is a goddamn tank). Managing to protect the jar with a swift hand, Ophelia rights themselves with an inconvenient hand reaching backwards, landing on another seller’s table and rattling the wares, sending a few to the sand at their feet. The seller’s voice rises, and Ophelia waves them off with a flick of their hand, bending to put the wares back to their rightful places to silence the annoyance in their ears. Glancing up at their partner-in-collision, Ophelia blinks too-big eyes at the man in all his scarred glory. “Apologies, I didn’t see you move. Are you here for scar salve or something for retribution?” Their forward bluntness is tempered only by their dreamlike tone and the genuine crinkle of concern and curiosity in their face.
They’re departing with a less than legal jar of liquid when they’re bodily accosted by another shopper, sending them stumbling back hard (because the stranger is a goddamn tank). Managing to protect the jar with a swift hand, Ophelia rights themselves with an inconvenient hand reaching backwards, landing on another seller’s table and rattling the wares, sending a few to the sand at their feet. The seller’s voice rises, and Ophelia waves them off with a flick of their hand, bending to put the wares back to their rightful places to silence the annoyance in their ears. Glancing up at their partner-in-collision, Ophelia blinks too-big eyes at the man in all his scarred glory. “Apologies, I didn’t see you move. Are you here for scar salve or something for retribution?” Their forward bluntness is tempered only by their dreamlike tone and the genuine crinkle of concern and curiosity in their face.
Feel the storm every night, hope it passes by
Hallucinate a shady grove where Judas went to die
Hallucinate a shady grove where Judas went to die
