Drezda could look after herself with the aid of magic, of course, labelling her usage as conquest because if any human tried to lay a finger on her far superior skin, the diplomat would be sure to teach them the error of their ways. She kept a tight hold on her field, ready to let loose an offensive spell if required. However, the Hoxian walked with confidence, even if her steps did carry a delicacy to them. She turned heads, her features novel enough to attract attention despite her small stature but her clothing also screamed wealth. Of course, they were going to look her way. She was rich and exotic, but not a target; her bearing wasn't that of a victim, her black eyes sweeping imperiously over the humans and wicks that she passed, their clothing, their hovels, all of it, silently tutting in her head. The dregs of society, pitiful.
The diplomat didn't approve of the location, occasionally causing her field to pulse in a semi-threatening manner when one of the Dives' denizens drew too near. She wasn't interested in them, not really; they were simply a minor nuisance like flies that she felt the need to swat. However, the galdor had been led to believe that there was something worth investigating in this dreary place. Drezda had politely complimented the music box of an associate and been treated with rhapsodies of praise about a shop near Hollow Street in the Dives - the Dives of all places! - although the location had been given in a whisper. To suggest that there might be something worthwhile in that den of inferior races was a difficult thing for any golly to stomach. The fact that he'd been willing to admit it and the craftsmanship of the music box had piqued her curiosity. Thus, here she was, moving purposely in the Hollow Street area, following the directions she'd been given.
That's when some bloody stop-clocker had to try to rob her. She'd seen him in the corner of her eye, thinking that she'd made a mistake; surely that creeping body couldn't be one stupid enough to try anything with her? Alas, she saw the knife come out, the slight glint by his side as he moved to try to catch her by surprise. Drezda was ready for him.
She allowed her head to turn fully in his direction, even as she stepped to the side, moving away from him. Her hands came up, palms facing him but it wasn't a gesture of surrender. Instead, she murmured words of Monite with reverence and pushed outwards, unleashing a pain spell. He recoiled, frozen to the spot as his body writhed with its own personal agony.
Conquest...
The diplomat had the time, her concentration total as she regarded the human or passive - there was no discernible field so she couldn't be sure which he was - with cold displeasure so she unleashed a sting spell afterwards, lashing him with the aid of an extended pointer finger. The welts appeared on his face, the young woman revelling in the agony she was inflicting, giddy and a little light-headed from the casting. She swayed a little on her feet, silently thanking the mona for its cooperation, naming the man's pain and humiliation as an offering. The damage done, she completed her spell and finally spoke to him in a tongue that he could actually understand.
"Don't meddle with your betters, boy," she remarked coldly, walking away without a backward glance as the man collapsed back against the nearest solid surface, glaring after her, fear and rage mingling on his face. She didn't encounter anyone else troublesome en route to the shop, which was probably for the best because she was still on a high from her magic, the street swaying a little. Thankfully, there was no difficulty finding the place. A sign hung outside it, the gear on it prominent, the name printed in more faded letters as if someone had forgotten that that bit could be important to the literate: Belle's Brilliance.
The Hoxian pushed the door open, lips twisting in displeasure at the violent jingling of bells. Her eyes found the multiple offenders that hung by the frame on the inside, closing it behind her with care if only to protect herself from another auditory assault. Her head still seemed to be ringing though but thankfully, it wasn't as ridiculously loud in here now. There was a great deal of ticking, the source a variety of clocks and watches that were part of a wall-to-wall display. The diplomat wasn't actually sure where to look. The place was small but bursting with items. The word that Drezda was liable to use was 'cluttered.'
She sniffed, haughty gaze assessing every inch of the place. The moment that she encountered another person, the woman's face would become smooth, impassive, neutral. She wasn't likely to come across anyone here that she needed to show semblance of friendliness toward. She crossed her arms loosely over the silken, red and black Hoxian style dress she wore, wondering if this place was actually worthy of her custom.