Who: Morgana & Rumplestiltskin What: The purchasing of ‘legitimate’ goods. Where: The alchemist’s shop, Springwood. When: Evening of Tuesday, March 27th, 6512. Warnings: None. Status: Complete!
As evening fell on Springwood’s main city, the lights of the lamps were lit, chasing away that shadows that had begun to creep along the cobblestone streets. Even with the flickering flames lighting the streets though, there were enough shadows present to suit Morgana’s purposes. She had come as planned towards the end of the day, when there were less customers on the streets and the shops were more likely to be empty; she could avoid attention when she wished by use of magic, but sometimes simply coming in the evening was easier. The darkness shadowed her features, making her blend in more with the surroundings and appear perfectly uninteresting. The darkness suited her, as it had for so very long.
She wore a long dark purple cloak, its hood lifted to cover her long black hair and leave most of her beautiful face in shadow. The cloak also covered the dress she wore underneath it; an elegant black corseted construction which only added to her regal appearance. Her crown and circlet had been left back at her tower on Darkwood; even with the shadows she was not stupid enough to think that distinction of her nobility would go unnoticed. Holding her cloak closed and keeping her head down, the dark queen strode through the streets; unnoticed or unremarked upon by the few passersby she spotted. Even if she had somehow caught their attention, a flicker of magic might have steered their gaze in another direction.
Having remained anonymous, Morgana reached the alchemist’s shop and pushed open the door, stepping carefully inside and shutting it firmly behind her. She didn’t have to use magic to be sure the shop was empty; it was evident just from a quick look around. The lack of other clients was why she felt perfectly safe walking up towards the counter and lowering her hood as she gave a slight smile at the man behind the counter. “Good evening, Mr. Wildling.” The emphasis on his name was not without reason, and a hint of a malicious smirk hovered about the witch’s lips before she tilted her head back imperiously and continued, “I am in need of a few ingredients.” Well aware of the alchemist’s propensity for applying his transforming magic, she cast her gaze around the shop, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow as she added, “If in fact you even have those ingredients...”