[COLOR=C0C0C0][img]https://i.imgur.com/ePLWa1t.gif[/img]

[CENTER][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5609844]Character Sheet[/url] 
[hr][sub][color=7F00FF]MASQUERADE BALL (no music I lost a braincell)
[color=white]LOCATION:[/color] PALACE OF THE GODS [color=white]-[/color] BALLROOM[/color]
[color=white]MENTIONS:[/color] [@The Savant] [@BunniesOfDoom][/sub]
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The stench hits her faster than his appearance. Morrígan didn't turn her head to see who opened the doors. A dark, unseen force rippled throughout the air and a cold shiver ran through her spine. Her instincts kicked in as the dark beast treaded through the open space.

[color=white][i]'Run'[/i][/color]
But where to?

[color=white][i]'Stop'[/i][/color]
Her vision blurred, tempting itself into darkness.

[color=white][i]'Death approaches'[/i][/color]
No, Morrígan's precognition hasn't kicked in - but the deathly stench overwhelmed whatever bare scent that foresaw one's death.

[color=white][i]'Protect the souls'[/i][/color]
And with what power?

Morrígan stood her ground, watching with wary eyes as the wendigo interacted with Aelia and Antero; the three of them were eldest amongst all of the monsters who have paraded as deities, seen and participated in the long wars that stole her mentor's last sanity. Morrígan blinked, bowing her head slightly. The thoughts didn't match the jovial-

Well, it was quiet far from joyful at this current moment, but the peace seemed to maintain, at least for now.
Quite frankly, the whole fiasco in front of Morrígan seemed like a bad joke. As much as a joke as she wished it were, even if the music alighted with elegance upon the ballroom, the thick unseen tension and the line they tip-toed around the god of the hunt. Were he not satisfied, this ballroom could turn into a disaster within seconds. Was it luck or sheer coincidence that he was sane and had self-control this night? Morrígan had no way of knowing.

Her slight curiousity faded as she sensed an incoming presence beside her. It was...
[color=7F00FF][i]'Human...'[/i][/color], she thought wistfully. Morrígan hadn't anticipated someone to approach her voluntarily, even the reincarnates - her precious believers - paid a reverence to her in the form of... space. Yet she did not float away from this man. For one, she wanted to see what the wendigo will do next. The door leading to freedom was far away as well. Morrígan did not bode well in social settings, but she was not rude. She watched with furrowed brows as Getsuy weaved through a platter of deli in a bestial grace known only to him. The servants worked hard to make sure the platter remained full, and what hubris that was.

Morrígan's attention snapped back to the human next to her, catching the last part of his sentence. 
[color=366563]"- finding the start of the evening to be tolerable?"[/color]. She nodded slightly, tilting her head slightly towards the gentleman. It was painfully obvious that he was a knight. The sword next to him stuck out like a sore thumb - though Morrígan guessed that was his intention. A knight is always proud, as one should be. She peered down at him, and saw a full life reflected in his iris. [color=7F00FF]"It is... pleasant."[/color] she muttered a response to the human knight. The word 'pleasant' was a mockery to herself - crowds and Getsuy's presence did not suit her, but what was one to do? She stayed still to keep to her duty. Morrígan, as hidden her face is, kept staring at the knight before asking in an attempt at polite conversation, [color=7F00FF]"Are you... enjoying the night?"[/color] 
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