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Emoji Starters
Among the busy streets of Paris, the sight of a lone traveler was commonplace. Indeed, the cobblestone paths were packed with such people every minute of every day. From the bright and flowing gowns of the nobility to the ragged rags of the commoner, Paris blushed with its lifeblood of the thorough throng. Despite what certain despotic authorities would tell you, Paris was a place of people, and it always would be.
That being said, there was one particular traveler this day that stood out from the rest, if one knew the traveling type. Her clothes were as humble as they came, a tan gown and hood combined with burgundy shoes to cover most of her skin. However, even with that, any with eyes could see that the woman was a beauty, fair-skinned with rose-red lips, mature without crossing the line into being elderly. She had nary a blemish upon her well-maintained figure even as her gnarled walking stick aided her journey among the city's winding ways.
On top of all of this was the fact that she was alone. A man wandering alone in days as dangerous as these was rare; a woman doing so was practically unheard of. Only the very brave or the very naive dared to do such a thing. There was something about her too, something that couldn't quite be put into words but was obvious if you knew what to look for. An imperial regalness informed the visitor's gait even as it horribly clashed with her humble trappings.
The woman carefully weaved her way through the crowds, strangely unnoticed by the regulars as she moved through their ranks. Eventually finding herself at the bank of the river away from the worst of it, the woman allowed herself a moment of pause as an exhausted sigh left her lips. Her hand grasped her walking stick (more of a staff, really) a bit tighter as she became lost in her thoughts. Those lips curled into a frown as she gazed into the still water, her reflection glaring back with undisguised frustration.
Maleficent was not happy. It had been supremely fortuitous that she had been revived. She had punished the greedy fools who had dared to lay claim to what was hers, and she had indulged quite liberally in their suffering. She had disguised herself, successfully infiltrated the nearest and largest city she could find, and was in the perfect position to wreak untold evils across its people. Yet, she was not happy.
Honestly, what was wrong with her? She'd have barely been able to contain her glee had she been provided an opportunity like this back before her fall. There was a certain satisfaction in terrorizing an area so thoroughly for so long, but it had made it difficult to indulge in the simple pleasure of corrupting a town into destroying itself. Why, from what little she'd seen, this "Paris" was halfway there already!
So why was she feeling so infuriatingly wretched?! All of the cards she could ever ask for were in her hand, so why couldn't she just enjoy it like before? What was this awful, empty aching that would not leave her be? What had changed?!
Her free hand idly rested upon the spot on her shoulder where a raven wasn't, and her frown deepened even further even as she failed to grasp why.
