06-20-2024, 08:25 PM
Arms folded, Morven assessed the Dominion slumped over the metal desk. She’d met most of the boys in black by now, but not the American. She had no idea if he’d know who the hell she was, or if he did, what he might have heard about her presence among them – depended on which of the others here he was friendly with. Her eyes scanned a quick judgement, but she snorted laughter at the comment as she kicked the door closed behind her. She had a decidedly laissez-faire attitude towards punches to the face. Just ask Taicheschski.
“You must be Carpenter,” she said.
No one sent her beyond wildfire rumour. The diplomat’s descent on the Garden had not been expected, the sparks erupted at his arrival even less so, and it left a buzz. Morven didn’t care for politics beyond where her loyalty was instructed. She had no official jurisdiction to be here, and Vellas might in fact be disgruntled at her intervention should he discover it – but let him gnash his teeth, she was ready for that fucking battle. Morven was no bleeding heart, and neither was she shocked by violence, but her expression had pinched a frown at discovering Michael had unceremoniously knocked down one of his own men for stepping out of line. She didn’t care why he had done it. To soothe relations with the visitor, or to strong-arm his fearsome reputation? Not at the expense of a concussion. Not when he had better options. Oh, they’d be having fucking words.
“Sit up then, solider, if you can. Let me look at you, ye ken?” She came to a stop in front of him, tone sharpish.
“You must be Carpenter,” she said.
No one sent her beyond wildfire rumour. The diplomat’s descent on the Garden had not been expected, the sparks erupted at his arrival even less so, and it left a buzz. Morven didn’t care for politics beyond where her loyalty was instructed. She had no official jurisdiction to be here, and Vellas might in fact be disgruntled at her intervention should he discover it – but let him gnash his teeth, she was ready for that fucking battle. Morven was no bleeding heart, and neither was she shocked by violence, but her expression had pinched a frown at discovering Michael had unceremoniously knocked down one of his own men for stepping out of line. She didn’t care why he had done it. To soothe relations with the visitor, or to strong-arm his fearsome reputation? Not at the expense of a concussion. Not when he had better options. Oh, they’d be having fucking words.
“Sit up then, solider, if you can. Let me look at you, ye ken?” She came to a stop in front of him, tone sharpish.
![[Image: Morven-past-life-banner-scaled.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/Morven-past-life-banner-scaled.jpg)