The hour was midnight, or thereabouts. The sky was clear, the air quiet spare for the muted noises of the city. It was a refreshing thought that the clatter of passing motorists and hum of many a light could occasionally be overrun by the breath of the breeze and answering whispers of bare branches, their encore the delicate rustle of boldly singing leaves well past their autumn death date.

Another sound was added to the symphony. At first, it did not belong. The crush of frosted grass underfoot came at an irregular tempo very much at odds with the genre of the winter night's music. Then, the placement of the booted feet was corrected, the pace slowed. Elongated nails sprouting from slender fingertips played the chimes of an ice coated bush as the late night wanderer passed by it.

Even this place, with its greenery so defined to humanity's ideals of order, could become enchanted by the magic of winter. It sang its song without fear of reprimand, though it typically had an unwilling audience. The mortals of the city seldom showed appreciation for Jack Frost's fine performance.

This immortal, however, was a frequent patron of Nature's orchestra, in all seasons.

((OOC: Bah! Good enough. Reply if you feel so inclined.))

Fae did not notice the crunch of the other's boots, or the play of his/her claws on the frosted bush. Buried in a thick black coat, scarf, and earphones, Fae had lost herself in her music and her thoughts, which were...

Why on earth did I wear a skirt?

Sitting down on a nearby bench, long legs covered by black-and-green striped tights and a short black skirt, Fae was caught between the indecision as to stay and enjoy a bit of time outside...in the freezing cold...or go back to her rather shabby apartment and do nothing there. Her black boots, looking like combat boots with thick, chunky heels, scraped across the pavement as she idly tried to work a piece of the cement loose with her toe. Maybe she should go back. This really wasn't as fun as...what? Hanging out in her cramped house, looking around and noticing all the things that needed work, and money she didn't have? Well, at least she wouldn't be cold...

The symphony was broken, or rather, interrupted, as he drew nearer to the other form of waking life in the park. The minuscule notes that could be heard outside of the earphones seemed to drown out all else. His silvery-green eyes were turned from the night to focus only upon a specific beauty of the after dusk world.

A mortal, out at a winter's midnight, merely to sit on a cold bench and listen to music? How intriguing.

His feet took on a more directed path, leading him over to the bench and the girl upon it. He seated himself next to her without invitation, idly dusting a few snow crystals off of the charcoal lapels of his otherwise black frock coat. He had ceased to look at her, waiting instead to be taken notice of. The breeze lifted his loose shoulder-length hair listlessly as he observed the shadows' dance across the way.

Fae noticed the other's arrival. Her feet freezing (in more ways than one), her silver eyes slid sideways, then abruptly looked away and down. Fae wasn't in the mood for random strangers noticing her odd irises. And talking of random strangers...this one was yet another excuse to go home. Fae clicked off the music, both hand and cd player buried in a pocket, and debated whether or not to actually try to be social for once...the man must want something, besides a seat...or to be her usual depressive, unfriendly self. It was dark now; other 'unfriendly' types would be out. But those such people usually did not come and sit down on the bench next to you. Well, what the heck. If she didn't like the man, she could leave. It's a free country...

Sliding the earphones off her ears and down her dark hair, Fae turned her tanned face towards the bench's other occupant, mirror eyes curious, but wary.

"What were you listening to?" the man queried casually, a vague smile tilting his lips up at one corner, his brows arching subtly to complete the expression. His eyes remained fixed on the shadows, giving the impression that something moved in them that the other might not be able to see.

((OOC: Wow. I apologize for taking so long to reply, and when finally doing so, posting so... shortly.))

((No problem :D Just glad you replied...))

"Ummm...a cd," Fae replied vaguely, her eyes glancing at the shadows he seemed so interested in. It was rather disconcerting, like he was watching something she couldn't see; it made her back prickle. Knowing how stupid and obvious her reply was, she shook off the feeling that something was indeed there, in the darkness, as she added, "I burned it myself. Why?"

Fae shifted nervously on the bench, her silver eyes shifting away; she had never been exactly comfortable around strangers.

"Ah. Simple curiousity, that's all. I'm somewhat of a... music fanatic." He turned away from the intimidating shadow watching, casting his small smile upon the other.

First, with his eyes, shifting their glittering pale green gaze to her, and then following them with the rest of his head. How most people moved when transferring their eyes to a new location; look first, alter the position of the neck after.

Except few who did so had skin so pale and smooth that it nearly gave a reflection in the street lamp as the angles of light were changed upon it.

"What kinds of music do you like? Everything?" Fae asked, trying to ward away those awkward silences she hated so much. Her eyes fell upon one of his pale hands, and narrowed a bit in curiosity; was that color...natural?

Fae repressed the urge to use her magical sight, allowing her to see magic; the spell had a disconcerting tendency to make her eyes glow for a moment, as if they were reflecting light. Silver was already uncommon enough for an eye color; glowing was downright freaky. Besides, she wasn't sure if this stranger was innish or unnish, and didn't want to take the chance.

And she wasn't sure she wanted him to know she had magic, whether he himself was/had magic or not.

((O_o Couldn't think of much to say...))

"Most everything, yes," came the response as he followed her line of sight to his hand, which was lifted soon after so that the long and nearly pointed nails could be inspected for evidence of dirt beneath them.

"I have some trouble digesting Rap and Hip-hop. Much of it I find to be innate babble about sex, drugs, murder, and cars, with little to no musical value. Expressing yourself is one thing, but screaming about issues to an off beat is a glorified temper tantrum."

He paused and smiled vaguely at the idea. Eminem, on a hardwood floor, banging his fists and feet against it while insulting other artists. Plop that into a recording studio, and the next number one seller on the Rap charts is born, or perhaps, already had been.

"I don't like rap either," Fae admitted, still uncomfortable making conversation with a complete stranger, but also uncomfortable at the idea of falling into an inhospitable silence. Fae paused, then said, "I don't believe I caught your name? I am Fae."

Fae managed to push down her introversion enough to meet the stranger's eyes as she said this, debating whether or not to offer her hand to shake. Somehow, the simple gesture did not seem to fit this not-quite-normal person sitting next to her.

"Ah. You did not catch it because I did not give it, Fae." The stranger smiled, and did extend the hand formerly under scrutiny in the standard gesture of greeting.

"My name is Marcus, but you may call me Marc if you prefer." His eyes glittered in a manner bordering eerie in the low light, a shade of pale jade misted with silver-grey impurities.

"It is nice to meet you, Marcus," Fae lied in that polite-to-strangers tone, carefully shaking his pale hand with one of her cinnamon ones. Looking away from his eerie eyes...and it was strange, the way his were closer to a normal color, but more unnerving than her own silver ones...Fae took in the winter night, wetting her lips nervously as she tried to think of something to say.

And, hopefully soon, some way to say goodbye.

"What are you doing out here, at this time of night?" Fae asked curiously, some real emotion entering her voice. She glanced at Marcus again, but found she couldn't look at him for long; something about him made her vaguely uneasy...

Marcus continued to watch her, a wistful smile ever-present on his well sculpted features.

"I'm always restless at night. Walking about does me some good, allows me get to sleep easier, later on. Yourself?"

His hands had folded themselves neatly in his lap. Still observing her. Rather intensely. 'Don't leave yet, I want to get to know you better,' said his eyes. 'I'm enjoying your company, don't leave me alone,' read his bodily posture, angled toward her attentively.

Fae shrugged, still not looking at Marcus. "I wasn't ready to go to bed, but there wasn't anything to do at home, either." She looked up, meeting Marcus's eyes, ignoring the uneasiness; or, at least not letting it into her expression or voice. "It happens a lot, and I've taken to walking around the city at night."

Fae fell silent, looking uncomfortably away again; she wondered what time it was, and felt her left wrist. Realizing she'd left her watch at home, Fae just managed to repress a sigh of irritation; drat.