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♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡ ╰┈➤ ❝a pretty face doesn't mean a pretty heart. ❞
𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅. And a great one if that, she would seamlessly go undetected, creeping in and out pickpocketing pearls and jewellery galore. The girl became an apparition never seen nor heard, she was a ghost flitting before peoples eyes.
And how was all this possible? She was a writer, she wrote articles for papers waning to and fro dredging up dirty pasts and distasteful acquaintances. These tabloids were nothing more than gossip magazines flimsy and dishonest, dishing out the dirt. It's what she loved to be ; a menace to oblivious eyes.
A pale face set with almond doe - eyes, she looked sweet ; sweet like morning dew and milky tea. Dainty when need be, a simple birth mark seared beneath her ear - but hidden by her smooth chin skimming mousy brown hair. This sweet girl next door look, grew to become her best asset.
Now stood fiddling and rearranging her emerald green of a dress, toying and plotting. Her mind full of schemes so devilish, the face conjuring them up had you fooled. She was a devil, disguised as a darling.
A huff escaped her lips not quite content but not completely dissatisfied. She surveyed what she saw before her, glancing and nitpicking each fine detail until it was perfect - it needed to be, screw that it had to be. As ever the event she was attending was not down to her status, she had other means of procuring a ticket : by that her boss gifted her a ticket in exchange for a scandal. It was the perfect way in.
Boots and hooded eyes, she slunk out of the dilapidated apartment block she called home. The city smelt dirty, when did it not? But tonight, tonight had an air of wavering forget fullness and chalky smoke - coating and seeping into her lungs.
Her glamour outweighed the city of Gotham tonight, grime and fretful stares met by silky flouncing lace and chiffon swirling and floating above the tar ridden streets. After a few blocks she hailed a cab not wanting to attract anymore attention - dangerous attention, Morana didn't have time to spare on the low lives of the city tonight.
A warm cab welcomed her she embraced it, and gathered the warmth into her fingertips.
"Where to Miss?" a stout man with a thick New York accent retorted from the front of the taxi.
She smiled a delicate, sickly sweet smile at his un-seeming politeness.
