It was the stench of death that called her being to this wretched place.<br/><br/>Millicent, bred to deliver dark souls to the light, typically did not dwell in places such as this; yet was commanded to. Many would be brought 'home', and she was ordered to stay, deliver, and offer some sense of peace and stability to a foreboding and endless darkness here.<br/><br/>This marks the beginning of her days, before she has become a Fallen, thrown down from her Heavenly realm; she is a simple being of sorts yet, does not need to feed from humanity's blood in order to live, and her soul is not dark. Not yet.<br/><br/>She finds herself standing within a chaotic situation, and she is attempting to make sense of it. Her ability to manipulate elements for a short time, to harbor and use shadows at will for her advantage, do her no good as she watches what is unfolding before her eyes.<br/><br/>One might glance at her and take a second look; she garbed in a black satin cotehardie, the bodice trimmed with a thick white ribbon and cinched tightly, the flowing sleeves covering her hands, feet clad in thickly-soled black knee-high boots laced as tightly as well. Around her neck a thick silver chain holds a large cross, this the only jewlery upon her. Millicent's auburn hair falls to the middle of her spine, cranky loose curls spiralled out of control, the sides and bangs pulled back to free her face from the cumberance. Her skin is pale, and bright blue eyes are set upon the door that seems to continuously open and close in front of her.<br/><br/>She has seen them enter the building, she smells the physical and emotional pain that many within the Apothecary are facing; this scent overpowers much of what lies around her and outside the gates.<br/><br/>It intrigues her, causing goosebumps to rise over her flesh, and blinks slowly at the on-goings; she is far enough away to not intrude, but shall soon, she knows. After all, at least one of the living perhaps is a soul to collect; if dark in nature. She has not been able to determine this yet.<br/><br/>Something else grasps at the back of her thoughts and senses, there is much more in this place than what the simple eye, nose or touch can tell. Another soul, possibly a handful, that are not what she is accustomed to.<br/><br/>Her brow raises, eyes flashing about as she scans the area, her throat clearing in determining her next step.