seveninchmotto | Room 17, Second Floor, Haunted House, Tuesday Afternoon

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Room 17, Second Floor, Haunted House, Tuesday Afternoon

Thanks to all the drama in New York, Isabelle was a late arrival to the house on Ingvar. Of course, now that she'd been there for all of an hour, you could hardly tell she hadn't been there all along. She had a supernatural skill both for transporting a lot of her possessions over from the main island, as well as for spreading said possessions all across the room with very little thought to the fact that she was apparently sharing this room with someone. So, in that respect, she was already as at home as she possibly could be.

This house felt like bad news, though. She felt like she was being watched while she was straightening up the few extra pillows on the bed. And she did not like the feeling.

[ooc: Open!]

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Isabelle snorted. Yeah, she'd accept help carrying her things (not that she needed that either), but no one else was touching them beyond that. "No," she said, although she shot him a little smirk over her shoulder. "But thank you, that's very sweet."

"Mmm." Nathan mostly just wanted to make sure he had some room of his own though he was beginning to wonder if that was going to happen. "Yes, I'm very sweet."

He wasn't. But, she could have her illusions. Nathan got up and went about putting some of his meager purchases away. Some cigarettes that he probably wouldn't smoke, a few packs of gum and a Swiss Army knife that he'd found interesting.

Isabelle had no opinion on his sweetness or lack of it, really. It was just a thing to say.

She glanced over at his purchases, then shook her head before going to get some more of her clothes straightened out.

"Problem?" Nathan asked, raising an eyebrow. "Something you don't like and care to share?"

"I've just never understood the point of those knife things," Isabelle replied easily, shrugging and pushing her hair back over her shoulder. "You can't even really do anything with them."

Nathan shrugged. "I don't know, it looked useful. I thought it might come in handy in a pinch. Sorry you don't approve. You don't have to use it."

"Thankfully, because I would never get anything done." Yeah there were probably a bunch of knives hidden among all the clothes she'd brought over. She waved her Marked hand distractedly. "But I'm sure it's just fine for whatever you might want to use it for."

She was assuming him to be a mundane for now, and most mundanes didn't strictly speaking need too flashy knives.

Nathan went to say something when his eyes caught sight of that Mark on her hand. He squinted at it curiously. It didn't look exactly like his tattoo but it didn't look like any regular sort of tattoo either.

Huh.

Didn't a lot of people have eye-shaped rune tattoos covering the back of one hand, almost stretching to the knuckles?

No, no they did not.

Isabelle had kind of expected a reply, so she glanced at him again, and caught the squint. "Looking at something?"

"Your hand," he admitted, looking away. "I thought I saw something on it. I was just trying to see what it was."

No, he knew he'd seen something on it. No thought about it.

Well, that was twice in one day now, so Isabelle wasn't inclined to let it go so easily. Her head tilted a fraction.

"Thought you saw, or saw?"

Nathan shrugged a shoulder. "It looked pretty clear to me. Like a tattoo or something. It didn't look bad. Just in a spot I wouldn't have guessed."

But he had one on his freaking neck so he wasn't really someone who could talk.

Isabelle shrugged, and picked up a shirt from her bag.

"It's a cultural thing."

It wasn't a lie. The placement of the Mark for Sight was very much a cultural thing, and the rune had special significance too.

"Okay." Nathan accepted that with a shrug. He padded back over to his bed and sat back down. "Good for you."

"Not a lot of people notice."

That was perfectly idle. She was shaking the shirt out, making sure there'd be no creases left.

"Really?" Nathan sounded surprised. "It's pretty obvious. It's in dark ink and it's right on the top of your hand. Thought everyone would notice."

"It's not ink," Isabelle replied. She might not elaborate on that point, but she also saw no real reason not to correct the assumption. "Unlike your neck, I'm sure."

She'd noticed.

"And mine's not just ink," he felt compelled to say. "Guess we were both wrong."

"No, still just you," Isabelle replied, unperturbed. "I said nothing about 'just' ink."

With him being at least a little Sighted without recognizing her for what she was, she thought it best not to assume that much.

"Whatever," Nathan said, rolling his eyes and shifting onto his back. He reached for one of the magazines he'd been looking at earlier and flipped it open.

He could at least look at the pictures and try and see if he recognized anything. He glanced back at her, trying to get a sense of what her Marks were before he looked back down at the pictures again.

If she was his kind of Hunter, he'd already know and he definitely wasn't getting that vibe. The only thing he was feeling was the buzzing in his head from nearby technology and some slight nausea from being inside.

At least Isabelle had brought nothing but her phone with her. She wasn't much for technology, most of the time.

She kept bustling about, getting her stuff in order. Her sleeves were up, so there were a few other Marks visible. And, of course, the pale, almost silvery webs of scars all over her skin.

Yeah, Nathan was curious but, thus far, hadn't asked. Still, the more Marks he saw combined with the scars and her words was just making him even more curious.

"So, what are they if they're not tattoos?" he finally asked. "Some sort of cultural birth mark?"

Isabelle sent him a look over her shoulder that said he could certainly do better than that last guess. Tsk.

"They're burned on."

"Burned on?" That was a new one. But, considering what his tattoos could do, it wasn't too far fetched either. "Huh. Wouldn't have guessed that."

"No, I don't suppose you would have."

It was just honest!

"But yes. We don't bother with needles and ink."

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