ooc: inbox/plot with me

[arcaneadvisor]

{sending crystal | notes & letters | personal visits}

Note: I work Mon-Fri and I'm basically away 11 hours a day but I do tags in gdocs and I try to do a round a night. Timezone is GMT.

ooc contact: deathwailart @ plurk | bansheesquad#0389 @ discord

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[arcaneadvisor]

[Two Wardens, one of them a complete buffoon twirling a pike and wheedling a possessed old woman to darn his socks for him still managed to muster an army and defeat a Blight faster than any other Blight in recorded history, all the while with the threat of a civil war looming. Small things can accomplish much when they do it the right way, and the world takes notice.

Notice enough that it might like to pretend that it never happened but that in itself is enough to have plenty of others clinging tooth and nail to the truth of the matter.

Kieran is of course the brightest spot in Morrigan's life, no matter how dark the rest might become. Bright enough that she will always smile, always laugh, settling herself comfortably.]

Perhaps you might care to tell him yourself though I would worry that his face might set aflame if you did. I did not wish to worry him with all that has been going on of late, including my absences, there are very few who would show him such kindness without… [The pause is to sigh; the hour is late and Gwen knows that even children aren't free from being used against people or as part of plots and games and schemes.]

[elegiaque]

( what was gwenaëlle as a little girl if not a game-piece to be pushed and pulled into this place or that? she knows it better than she cares to and her lips tighten, gaze cutting away. she isn't so special or good or kind, she just - )

He's a very good boy, I thought - he needed. Someone. For a bit.

( maybe not her, particularly, she wouldn't presume, but someone. not that morrigan isn't a great many things, all of them enough, she just - maybe she shouldn't have to be everything, either.

gwenaëlle becomes aware that she is fidgeting, and flattens her hands against her thigh, looking up, mustering a crooked smile. she feels off-balance in ways she does not feel entirely safe to be, but what does it matter. what does it matter. if morrigan isn't her friend, then she hasn't got any, apparently, so

she doesn't want to be alone. she's so tired. )

Not that you wouldn't - I mean, I don't -

( an unsteady little laugh. ) I'm sorry; I'm not at my best.

[arcaneadvisor]

He did. And will.

[Watching is something Morrigan has always done. She was alone so often as a girl with only Flemeth or the creatures of the wilds for company, left to peer out into civilisation, and such habits have never left her for long.

How did this girl last so long, she wonders, watching her now, when the Court is a relentless vicious thing with teeth and claws that is never ever sated. But then there is much to be said for someone that makes all around them hold their breath, waiting for the reaction. And for a woman that guards her smile well? Men will do incredible things, ridiculous things.

Morrigan knows what it's like to be spectacularly alone, and she is careful when she reaches out. The way one extends a hand to a wolf; it might back away, it might snap. But she reaches out all the same.]

I am sure the day has been long and trying. Change is not easy, not when it comes to something such as this. Your entire world has tilted, and tilted again. But you have come through one fire already have you not? And quite literally at that.