First New Story | Video

[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.

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spam

[hellofist]

[They protect each other, and that's honestly the way she prefers it. She isn't a lady at court, she's a warrior in her own right and more than capable of fighting for herself.

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.

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[nightmaring]

Probably.

[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

[hellofist]

[She kisses him back. It's gentle, sweet, accepting. It's everything she would want from a kiss because she remembers that she and Morgana are the same in so many ways and it only makes sense that Morgan feels the same way too.

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

[nightmaring]

[He can't read her - though he wishes he could - but he knows better than to push for more. He wants more, denying that would be like denying the air in his lungs, but there is too much to consider. She kisses him back, and that is enough.

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.]

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[hellofist]

[She leans her forehead against his after he breaks the kiss and keeps that eye contact up, refuses to break it and let it be taken as her turning him away. It wouldn't be right, she thinks, to let Morgana end up doing anything she hadn't been in her own mind to make a decision about, so the kiss will be as far as she lets this go.

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.

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[nightmaring]

[Morgana chokes on a laugh, sliding his arms around her and bowing his head to rest against hers. He's not much taller than Morgana is, but it's a noticeable difference. There is a part of him that wants to lift her, swing her, hold her tight and never let go. He wants to be a romantic, carefree, he wants to love her.

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.]

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[hellofist]

I don't care.

[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.

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[nightmaring]

[He's reminded of the first time they met - when old nightmares sent him to brood in the common room, when she showed up with tea as if she'd known exactly what he'd needed then. He'd tried to wave her off, laugh her away, snub her. It hadn't worked, and then he hadn't wanted to.

Running his hand through her hair, he thinks that he should flee.]

I'll accompany you.