First New Story | Video
11/7/14 01:32![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hellofist[She knows that it's a cruel trick to do this now, in the middle of the night in the middle of a flood where people may or may not have their original memories. Everyone is too busy dealing with their own things, and so that's why she does this now.
It's underhanded, but it's happening. She's broadcasting from inside her room, a cramped, run down little thing with cracked plaster and a beaten up dresser and a bed and nothing else. She sits on the bed, cup of tea balanced in her lap, and tries not to think about what she's saying as she says it.]
Figured, should... do this, officially. My name is Cassandra Cain. I was here, before. As a warden.
[Still hurts to admit that, but she charges on through as best she can.]
I'm not anymore. Don't remember everything, just that... I was here. Some things came back, memories of... some people. Some places. Mostly, it's new.
That's all. [Except maybe she'll inject something in there to make it seem like she's trying.] Good luck, with new bodies. Shouldn't last long, don't worry.
It's underhanded, but it's happening. She's broadcasting from inside her room, a cramped, run down little thing with cracked plaster and a beaten up dresser and a bed and nothing else. She sits on the bed, cup of tea balanced in her lap, and tries not to think about what she's saying as she says it.]
Figured, should... do this, officially. My name is Cassandra Cain. I was here, before. As a warden.
[Still hurts to admit that, but she charges on through as best she can.]
I'm not anymore. Don't remember everything, just that... I was here. Some things came back, memories of... some people. Some places. Mostly, it's new.
That's all. [Except maybe she'll inject something in there to make it seem like she's trying.] Good luck, with new bodies. Shouldn't last long, don't worry.
spam
11/7/14 19:57 (UTC)You'll like it better. Trust me.
[She already does, he thinks, he hopes. Looking around, his eyes glow gold, bright in his pale face, framed by dark hair. A wind whips briefly around them, kicking up his hair, pulling at his clothes. By and large, it leaves Cassandra alone. But the plaster that fell earlier is caught by it, sealed back into place. Slowly, the cracks fill, the broken things mend, the run down-ness of the room fades. Chips fade from furniture and floorboards, squeaks vanish as everything fits together properly.
When he turns his attention on the dresser, her tea cup rises in the air, floats to him on a gentler wind while the wooden pieces reshape themselves.
When it's done - it's not a new room. He can't do anything. But he can do nearly that, and it is certainly less likely to fall apart on her while she sleeps.
He turns and hands her the cup, pride running through the lines of his body.]
spam
11/7/14 20:39 (UTC)She remembers clearly the golden eyes and that it had once meant so much to her, but it's only Morgana here now. There's so much tied up in how it feels for her to see magic and it must have all come from how deeply she cares about Morgana, and Morgan. It's comforting, in its own way. When it's done and the wind settles and Morgan is facing her, cup in hand, her reaction feels as normal, as routine as breathing.
She takes the cup, but reaches one hand up to touch Morgan's cheek and leans up towards him. It feels natural as anything to kiss his cheek to thank him, and she does exactly that.]
It looks good. Thank you.
spam
11/7/14 21:20 (UTC)Instead, he gives her the same half bow again, and makes himself smile.]
Of course it does. Anything would have looked better.
[It's not true, and he doesn't mean it to be believed. He does pause, uncertainty thrumming briefly through him.]
I'm glad you like it.
spam
11/7/14 21:31 (UTC)I like it... because you made it.
[She isn't sure what she's arguing for here, she just knows that she wants to to impress on him that what he's done does matter.]
spam
11/7/14 21:43 (UTC)Do you really?
[The question is soft, unsure, something he so rarely allows himself to be. She is important. And he doesn't want this if it isn't real.]
spam
11/7/14 21:54 (UTC)All these people on the Barge that she was close to before, they're going to be the death of her, but this person, no matter what body they happen to be in, will always be the one she wants to protect, to love, the most.]
Don't ask stupid questions.
spam
12/7/14 14:11 (UTC)There was a time when he thought he had to be the strong one between them. He is a man, he was a knight, he should be the defender. The notions are still there, but he doesn't feel it so strongly now. He lowers his head, rests his cheek against hers without shame.]
They're the only kind I know.
spam
12/7/14 17:44 (UTC)But there's something to sharing the burden and she realizes that she has either forgotten or chosen not to think about it. Funny, that it's Morgana - Morgan, in this case - that reminds her of it. Lifting her hand up to the back of his head, she runs her fingers through his hair.]
There's probably been... one good one.
spam
14/7/14 03:30 (UTC)[He hesitates. He doesn't want to ruin this moment, and he doesn't want to second guess himself into regret.
And there is Merlin to consider, Merlin to be hideously, blindly jealous of. He cannot help but wonder, as he often has in the past, if he's a replacement.
But he doesn't want to be one, and he doesn't want to consider that he might be. So he he shoves it aside, leans down, and kisses her.
spam
14/7/14 04:54 (UTC)And maybe she led him into this a little, she isn't really sure herself. A desire for something that felt real, someone who was familiar and in need of comfort just as much as she is, just as unwilling to ask or to show that side of themselves.
The why doesn't really matter, though. What matters is she loves Morgana in any form and she isn't afraid to make it known in whatever capacity is necessary.]
spam
17/7/14 17:49 (UTC)Or so he tells himself, stroking a hand through her hair. She is still the same kind, strong young woman he first met ages ago, and he is still angry that Merlin grew closer first, faster. He hates that he is forever the last one to achieve anything, to reach a goal, forever playing catch up - he doesn't know how to set it all aside, even now. The jealousy is rooted in him.
Morgan pulls back, eventually, still running his fingers through her hair. He doesn't say anything, just studies her face with his brow creased, as if he can find all the answers he needs in her eyes.]
spam
19/7/14 03:09 (UTC)For now? She isn't sure. After this she expects Morgana will pretend that it never happened, if she has any memories of it at all. For now she puts her arms back around her male form and hugs him tightly.]
Wish that I... had more tea, to offer you.
spam
21/7/14 21:58 (UTC)But there is a coil around his heart that constricts at all these possibilities.
Leaning back, he kisses her forehead, and shifts to rest his chin on her head.]
That's all right. Yours is probably getting cold, though.
[He doesn't want to leave, but he wants to retreat, to think with a cool head.]
spam
27/7/14 00:29 (UTC)[Alfred would disapprove of letting tea get cold, but she doesn't want Morgan to go. The things she does want are better kept far in the back of her mind, things she shouldn't be thinking about at all, the same things he wants. This isn't the right time, though. It's not the right set of memories.
A very small part of her realizes she'll miss this form when it's gone. Best not to think too hard about that, either.]
Want to stay with you. Could go get more tea, but... only if you'll come too.
spam
28/7/14 18:04 (UTC)Running his hand through her hair, he thinks that he should flee.]
I'll accompany you.