The west held far more intriguing beings. Messier beings. Morgan seemed endlessly amused by them as she promenaded aimlessly through the dilapidated streets that possessed more character than the pristine, modern buildings elsewhere. Yet it was the oblivious people that held her attention. People only observed her for a moment, like anyone would with pronounced features as she. Her striking white hair that hung unbound and cascading, near shimmered even beneath the artificial light from street lights that lit both the streets and sidewalk. Morgan skulked toward the bustling commotion of congregating, rowdy beings lured by the promise of the weekend and whatever tickled their fancy. She watched and waited as she soaked it all in, the copious people that milled around her. She listened to their trivial conversations, smelled their cheap scents that they used to attract a mate or to attempt to be more attractive. She followed an intriguing couple for a time, remaining unseen and yet listened intently to their lackluster conversation.

She sifted through several appearances, many too self-absorbed to notice how she changed like a chameleon in the blink of an eye, only to settle back to her own appearance. The couple had disappeared and she found herself at the outskirts of the action. Alone. But not quite. She strode another step forward when the scent of cigarette smoke assaulted her nose, like bread crumbs, she followed it until she saw the being smoking it. A man and yet he was not merely a man. A unique and yet familiar scent clung to him, something so contrasting from the vile smoke that stained the air surrounding him. Hmm. She suffered the cigarette smoke to draw the underlaying scent into her gently flared nostrils while drawing closer, quietly.

She moves from behind, stalking amidst the shadows when it became clear of what she had found was no mere mortal at all. A fae. Much like her own mother. It was rare to find one and even rarer out in the open like that and yet she knew the ploy all too well. Part of her wondered if he sensed her when he began to speak to himself or he spoke to someone or something she could not yet see.

No, he was all alone. How she loved it when that happened.

He said that he was asking for trouble because he was trouble. Yet she found his statement terribly funny for reasons she only knew. The alabaster haired vampire could not help but interrupt the silence with an amused laugh, borderline giggle danced in the city air.

She stepped before him, electric blue eyes scanned him limb to limb.

Yet distractedly Morgan's gaze snagged upon his eyes, halting before him. Whether it was the way the shadows played upon his face in a sinister way or the way the light played upon them, she blatantly stared. "Oh! Such pretty eyes. They would make great marbles. I thought you should know." That statement was uttered with certain surprise. Captivating. Maybe she wanted them. It wasn't clear if she meant his actual eyes or a replica. Perhaps he would never know, maybe if he was lucky. In that moment, her curiousity of such a rare creature earned him all of her attention that was like figurative hooks that sought to latch onto something.

Morgan returned to his previous statement that might not have been meant for her ears. Trouble. What an odd name to have, but he did just say that was what he was. Maybe it was a nickname. Or a figure of speech.

"Which is it?" She inquired, pausing only to realize he probably had no clue what she meant. She continued with a tell-tale gleam in her eye. "Are you looking for trouble or offering it?" Two things both revealing in their own nature.