The air was... different... here.
Sure, it was a city, and most, what with the various industries, and workings, and livings, would probably be about the same, however, it wasn’t her city. She stood there in the middle of a cobbled street, staring up at nothing for the better part of fifteen minutes, oblivious to the muttering of annoyance to those around her, seeking unobstructed passage up and down the path. A few merchants, and maids and such nearby glanced in the same general direction, mainly to assure themselves of their own sanity, and upon confirmation, chalked it up to another unnecessary oddity.
When it was that she returned to the shared reality of those around her, she took the time to take a purposeful, yet unhelpful look first to her left, and then her right, her unpatched, left jade eye futilely looking for a landmark she wouldn’t have recognized anyway. At the very least, she could tell she was facing south.
After another few minutes of just...occupying space, she went where her legs carried her. South. To nowhere in particular. She had the gait of one trained in something artistic, her steps carrying the fluidity of not quite a dancer, but perhaps an apprentice. She hadn’t shoes, but thick, midnight blue stirrup socks that reached to just past her knees. From her purposeless pace, if not before, it was fairly clear to any of the townsfolk not too busy to care that she wasn’t a local soul, and, at least, for the moment, her mannerisms, and her appearance kept them at bay. Her skin held very little color, akin to perhaps someone from the very far north, or, someone who lived underground and saw more of the moon than the sun. Her dress, if one could call it that, adequately fit her narrow, short frame, if slightly on the loose side, as if she had a little room to grow. It was midnight blue as well, with charcoal seams and trim. The main lapels overlapped each other, and spiraled into two panels, front and back, cut wide, and showing perhaps a mite too much leg for a girl of her apparent age, and for what the weather could potentially be. For the most part, it had no back, being secured around her neck, and at least reasonably high on her waist, exposing a lifetime of cane scars along the length of her back and across her shoulders. The left side of her neck prominently displayed the brand of one in the ‘employ’ of another, and the inside of her left wrist held another, more discreet tale. Her right arm was covered in a very loose sleeve that drooped slightly past her waist, though her shoulder remained exposed, and her only two accessories were a simple leather cord for a belt, on which was attached a small fist sized pouch, which notably squirmed from time to time, as well as a ragged black ribbon used to hold her messy, blushy blonde hair in place.
She wasn’t sore on the eyes, though, she definitely had the appearance of one who didn’t spend much time indoors, with amenities. The eyepatch over her right eye may have seemed strange, but, between fights, and apprenticeships, and general life, it probably wouldn’t have been too uncommon. As she plodded about, she stared at everyone and everything that crossed her field of view; people, who seemed none too pleased, the architecture, who seemed to mind a bit less, the wares of the merchants, whose owners seemed to mind and not at the same time.
It was a rumble of her stomach that brought purpose to her mind once more, and she looked down at it, as if she expected it to look back.
Her path through town was becoming incredibly disjointed by now, her having taken various side streets and alleys, and such for no particular reason. A shopkeep, a well fed woman, sweeping the steps in front of the door, worked up enough courage, seeing the odd girl, and cleared her throat loudly. She came to a halt, and slowly, almost ghoulishly turned her gaze to the woman.
“Er...are you lost, lass?” Her voice was the pretense of courage. Something about the girl, moreso than how she acted was just...off. Her eye was fixated, like she could see beyond.
“I’m looking for...” Her voice was flat, completely without intonation, yet, soft, feminine. It was probably the only thing about her that could betray her age. In her pause, she remembered, she hadn’t a good answer.
“...Somewhere...to go...”
For a moment, both could do nothing but stare blankly at each other. The girl couldn’t give a better answer, not for any attempt at deceit, but because she genuinely didn’t know, and naturally, the woman couldn’t do anything with ‘somewhere’. After all, ‘somewhere’ could easily be anywhere, and if she wanted to go anywhere, all she had to do was walk until she stopped.
Perhaps a better question. “Are you looking for someone?” She set the broom aside and rested her hands on her hips.
“My father...I think...” even despite her even tone, she didn’t sound too sure.
The woman was planning on asking more questions, expecting more odd answers, she thought the better of it. “Try the constables, lass. I’m sure someone can help.” And she meant it, in more than one way.
“Which way?” Still, the girl’s expression remained unchanging, almost as if she didn’t care if she got a proper answer or not. The woman pointed, back the way she had come, and the girl turned to follow. Though she was hoping to avoid any more large streets, she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, and stopped before stepping out once more, choosing, at least for the moment to remain in the shadows of the alley.
She didn’t stay long, however, as another rumble urged her on.
“Guuu...” That was the only protest she could offer her empty belly, pathetic as it was.
She strolled her way back to the produce cart she’d passed just a bit earlier, her eye fixated on a pyramid of golden red apples. They were perfectly round and fresh, and shiny enough in the sun to almost see herself staring back. The merchant took a moment, a very brief moment to try to sell his wares before getting an eyeful of her appearance, and attempting to shoo what was clearly just another urchin away. He was loud enough to attract the attention of the other merchants, one of whom sent for a guard to quell the stirring ruckus before it became so. She hadn’t heard a single word. She wasn’t deaf, which he queried no less that four times, and quite rapidly, but had a fairly singular sense of focus most of the time. Under a concoction of disgust, protest, and appall, she snatched the apple on the zenith of the pile, and... took a bite. Of course, no payment had exchanged hands, which was the source of the trouble, and she continued to eat as he screamed in her face, his becoming more red with each passing moment. It didn’t help that she had nothing to say, but just stared him eye to eye, his full of fire, and hers full of a void of nothing, like one who’d probably seen a little too much for a lifetime. Though his rage subsided just a bit at that, naturally moreso due to an unnerving feeling, than satisfaction, his tirade would continue, if just a bit quieter.
The final straw would come a moment later, when she was done. Again, without a word, she slipped the core into the pouch, and turned to leave, which the merchant wasn’t to abide. He grabbed her exposed wrist, with full intention of hauling her to the nearest guard, and made it all of half a step before she herself whipped around, and pressed her sleeved hand over his in a gentle yet graceful motion. Just as swiftly, he pulled his hand back, his knuckles to his lips, his face deepening into a deep crimson.
It was about this time, the guard was rounding the corner, and seeing him in his periphery, the offended merchant strode over to him, pointing and yelling curses. This lasted all of a minute, before, unexpectedly, he broke into a fit of sniggles, like a happy drunk hearing a lousy pun, and collapsed into the arms of the guard.
The large gentleman seemed to gain enough of an understanding that something was amiss, although, the particulars didn’t necessarily reconcile, and after lowering the shopkeep to the ground as inoffensively as he could, he strode quickly, and purposefully toward the girl, whom at this point had no issues with personal space. As he approached, a hand rested on his sword, a fact not lost on her, but her eye was fixated on his.
“Who are you? What’s going on here?” He didn’t seem angry, not as much as he should for someone collapsing in plain daylight, after accusing someone of stealing from and attacking them. Still, he grabbed her by the shoulder, just to ensure she wasn’t going to run, or that if she had any other tricks, he’d be properly prepared.
“I was hungry...so I ate...” Considering the situation, she thought that was obvious, but, at the same time, she didn’t quite understand the full gravity of her position in all this either. Notably, she skipped the first question as well.
“Uh huh, and him?” He motioned to the gentleman lying face down in the street. His voice was growing more agitated. He was hoping for a reasonably quiet day, and this was an unnecessary hassle. The girl leaned to the side to get a better view, before turning her gaze back to the guard.
“He grabbed me, so...I poked him with this.” From her sleeve, she produced a long needle, about the length of her hand, and the guard quickly swatted it from hers to the ground. Her eyes watched it fall, and hovered there. The guard took a giant step back, and drew his weapon, pointing it toward her menacingly.
(OOC: Hello all, I’m Shiori, nice to meet everyone ^.^/, I think I may have gone a little too far, save me. @.@)