(no subject)

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

Morgan is curled up by the fire, looking pale and listless. She absently stroking Arianrhod, but doesn't really seem to be paying much attention to anything around her.

Comments

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Passing by where she sits on his way to the usual couch, Cuthbert notices her. His brow furrows a bit, and as he sits, he adresses her in an outwardly casual tone.

"Long days and pleasant nights, lady-sai."

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

She jumps as he sits, having not noticed him.

"And the same to ye," she replies, automaticly slipping back into her childhood dialect like she does with Susan.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

"Cry your pardon--I didn't mean to startle ye."

His own slip isn't back to a dialect he grew up speaking, but it's mostly automatic, nevertheless

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

"I was...distracted. Listening to things. No need to say sorry."

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

After a moment's pause, he nods. "As ye say."

He tips his hat to her. "Cuthbert Allgood, at your service."

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

"Morgan, daughter of Gorlois."

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

"Morgan--" He straightens a bit. "Unless you're a different Morgan, I believe you know my wife--Susan?"

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

She smiles, and nods, for a moment not looking quite so listless.

"Aye, I do."

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert smiles slightly as well.

"She's mentioned you to me. It's good to meet you."

Of course, most of the things Susan's mentioned are...complicated, to say the least, but he knows she still thinks of Morgan as a friend.

[the_lioness]

*Alanna collapses in a nearby chair, rubbing her forehead and groaning quietly. She doesn't seem to notice Morgan at first, and starts when she looks up and sees the other girl.

She swallows.*

Hullo, Morgan.

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

Arianrhod lifts her head, curiously, tasting the air with her forked tongue. Morgan's eyes flick over.

"Hello, Alanna."

[the_lioness]

Real or illusion?

*She makes a half-hearted gesture toward the snake, stubbornly refusing to look Morgan in the eye.*

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

"Real. Created, but real."

Morgan's dreamy eyes rest on Alanna's face, almost curious beneath the listless detachment.

[the_lioness]

Created? *Curious herself, Alanna finally looks up and flinches a bit when she meets Morgan's eye.* Your doing or another's? Barty does not have his wand... *frown*

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

"...Lucifer. Because I reminded him of another dark-haired girl who saw things others couldn't."

[the_lioness]

Ah. Lucifer.

*Face red, Alanna leans back in the large arm chair, trying to make herself as small as possible. She pulls her knees up and stares morosely at the ceiling.

She feels foolish. Childish.

She feels horrible, and is seriously considering saying her farewells and going home.

She also feels like crying and hates herself for it. But at least she recognizes jealousy for what it is, and wages a mental war with herself on the issue. Finally, she squeaks and runs her hand through her hair.*

That was... (kind?) thoughtful of him. It is your pet now?

*Pets are a safe subject. Really.*

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

"Her. And...in a way, yes."

Softly, hesitantly,

"Alanna, what have I done?"

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

There is another snake slithering along on the floor. It's a small green one-- harmless-looking. Cute, even, if you like that sort of thing.

Perhaps Morgan does.

Introduce me to your friend, duck?

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

Oh, she likes snakes.

Her name is Arianrhod

The snake in question dips her head to look at Puck.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

The snake grins. This is probably frightening.

Enchanted.

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

...maybe to someone not Morgan?

I'm sure you are. Don't seduce my snake, please.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

The snake sticks its tongue out at Morgan, then turns abruptly into a young man in dusty jeans. He's finally done what he's often promised himself he'd do, which is to tear holes in his shirt for his wings to stick out of. He's happy about that.

"I fear you malign me, milady," he sighs from his seat on the floor.

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

"Or...not." She rubs her eyes.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

He stretches out one batlike wing delicately and flashes a quick grin.

"Well, perhaps not. Is your snake promised to another?"

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

"...I'm afraid you'll have to ask Lucifer."