[Courtney used to be a regular at the Goblin Market, when it was something she had access to. She learned early on not to eat or drink anything, not to say 'thank you', not to accept gifts. Knowing that her uncle would ground her for lifetimes to come, for foolishness, kept her from bartering things she couldn't afford to lose, for the most part. She did trade the A+ she got on a book report once. It wasn't worth a lot, but the hobgoblin who bought it said there was a niche market for things like that.
She never cared much about her grades, anyway.
The Night Market isn't quite the same, but it's similar enough that she's at home there. If there is some nefarious trafficking of spirits about, she's not (yet) aware of it. Rather, she's been buying ingredients for a particular spell, and having obtained most of what she needs, she's standing by a pen of vampire pumpkins, which are rolling back and forth in the low light, burbling faintly.
She wants ten. What happens if you carve a face into a vampire pumpkin? Will it bite?
She senses a chill, rather than hearing or seeing him coming, and she looks up in time to see him dodge another patron, one who seems oblivious to his existence. Her nose wrinkles in mild disdain: it just seems rude to trip on a ghost. Failing to perceive them is no excuse.] Eesh. You'd think you'd be hard to miss here.
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She never cared much about her grades, anyway.
The Night Market isn't quite the same, but it's similar enough that she's at home there. If there is some nefarious trafficking of spirits about, she's not (yet) aware of it. Rather, she's been buying ingredients for a particular spell, and having obtained most of what she needs, she's standing by a pen of vampire pumpkins, which are rolling back and forth in the low light, burbling faintly.
She wants ten. What happens if you carve a face into a vampire pumpkin? Will it bite?
She senses a chill, rather than hearing or seeing him coming, and she looks up in time to see him dodge another patron, one who seems oblivious to his existence. Her nose wrinkles in mild disdain: it just seems rude to trip on a ghost. Failing to perceive them is no excuse.] Eesh. You'd think you'd be hard to miss here.