On the last break between missions Morrigan never once thought she could be glad to see this place again. For the span of about half an hour as she disappears into a hot bath and does her best to scrub Gallipoli off her skin, she actually is.
The feeling doesn't last.
For one thing, the meager stash of belongings she left in her half of her capsule last time has all been moved to a different capsule. Including the cryotube that supposedly holds her unborn child. Perhaps she should be grateful to have a new roommate; she only hopes it is not another teenage boy who wants to be her friend.
She likes the rec rooms later at night, when fewer people visit them, and she goes almost nightly to the gym either to spar magically with the small grey training drone she found last time or to hone entirely physical skills, which may never be her first instinct but seem more important after encountering the Regency's soldiers. Tonight she would at first glance be almost unrecognizable to her former companions, wearing a hooded sweatshirt and assaulting a punching bag as though it has made some misguided attempt on her life.
She turns, panting, when she slows down enough to be more aware of someone's presence nearby. "'Tis yours, if you wish."
[ whiskey is their shield ]
In the mess long after most people have had their evening meal Morrigan finds a cup and opens the bottle of Glenfiddich that came back with her from the last mission. She sniffs the opened bottle first, nose wrinkling. She never drinks much and when she does wine is more to her liking, but she soldiers on, filling the cup about halfway. It is her dubious prize, after all, and once she has had enough to warrant refilling the cup, again about halfway, she takes everything into the mostly empty library, where she sits sideways on a couch with a vague flush in her cheeks, pointedly taking up all the available space.
>>@BASICWITCH | TO: @ALL I have an interest in sparring with a few people who are not usually reliant on magic. Ideally you will improve my chances against Regency agents who can nullify my power. In return I will help you learn to defend yourself against a magical enemy; one day it may prove useful to you.
Even if it's only because she loses her temper.
[ library and bce threads equally welcome! ]
[ like a fox... on a fish ]
The tents are supposedly too difficult for one person alone to set up, but Morrigan is far too stubborn not to make the attempt by herself. Soon enough four curious foxlike creatures are her audience, creeping ever closer as they watch and going so far as to nose her bag on the ground. Her interest in the animals tempers her frustration as she continues to work. Even after well over a year away from the Korcari Wilds she feels more at home here than she has anywhere else she's been lately.
She lets the foxwealds sniff around her things long enough that when she gives up on the tent and slowly approaches they do not run, watching her as carefully as she watches them. Their grassy backs and rootlike tails fascinate her, and the largest of the group seems to leave a greener path in her wake, as though as young plants spring from her path.
When the bushes nearby rustle Morrigan and the foxwealds all turn to investigate, but when someone steps forward the foxwealds scatter, leaving her with an unappreciative glare for her new company. "Subtlety is not your strength."
[ wakey wakey ]
In a darkly wooded area she comes across a body on the ground. Moving close enough to observe the slight rise and fall of the person's chest, she eyes the glossy red and black arms of the plant next to them and scans it to see if someone has made a report yet.
Red Corvette, the description says, and since there seems to be no immediate danger she considers just leaving, but a day or two spent exploring at her leisure and on her own terms -- more or less -- has elevated her mood. She gives the body's shoulder a nudge with her foot, but nothing happens.
Crouching down, she tries a different approach. A distinct crackle of lightning -- only a minor jolt -- arcs between her fingers and the person's side. "Perhaps you should sleep elsewhere."
[ will match brackets if that's your pref. wildcards welcome even if it's dumb magic vs superpowers ping pong; pm or ping gratuitousmagic if you want. I don't mind assuming our characters have met in passing before and holy fuck there's so much I'd like to do that if you feel like swinging more than one thread lemme know. ]
Morrigan | Dragon Age
On the last break between missions Morrigan never once thought she could be glad to see this place again. For the span of about half an hour as she disappears into a hot bath and does her best to scrub Gallipoli off her skin, she actually is.
The feeling doesn't last.
For one thing, the meager stash of belongings she left in her half of her capsule last time has all been moved to a different capsule. Including the cryotube that supposedly holds her unborn child. Perhaps she should be grateful to have a new roommate; she only hopes it is not another teenage boy who wants to be her friend.
She likes the rec rooms later at night, when fewer people visit them, and she goes almost nightly to the gym either to spar magically with the small grey training drone she found last time or to hone entirely physical skills, which may never be her first instinct but seem more important after encountering the Regency's soldiers. Tonight she would at first glance be almost unrecognizable to her former companions, wearing a hooded sweatshirt and assaulting a punching bag as though it has made some misguided attempt on her life.
She turns, panting, when she slows down enough to be more aware of someone's presence nearby. "'Tis yours, if you wish."
[ whiskey is their shield ]
In the mess long after most people have had their evening meal Morrigan finds a cup and opens the bottle of Glenfiddich that came back with her from the last mission. She sniffs the opened bottle first, nose wrinkling. She never drinks much and when she does wine is more to her liking, but she soldiers on, filling the cup about halfway. It is her dubious prize, after all, and once she has had enough to warrant refilling the cup, again about halfway, she takes everything into the mostly empty library, where she sits sideways on a couch with a vague flush in her cheeks, pointedly taking up all the available space.
I have an interest in sparring with a few people who are not usually reliant on magic. Ideally you will improve my chances against Regency agents who can nullify my power. In return I will help you learn to defend yourself against a magical enemy; one day it may prove useful to you.
Even if it's only because she loses her temper.
[ library and bce threads equally welcome! ]
[ like a fox... on a fish ]
The tents are supposedly too difficult for one person alone to set up, but Morrigan is far too stubborn not to make the attempt by herself. Soon enough four curious foxlike creatures are her audience, creeping ever closer as they watch and going so far as to nose her bag on the ground. Her interest in the animals tempers her frustration as she continues to work. Even after well over a year away from the Korcari Wilds she feels more at home here than she has anywhere else she's been lately.
She lets the foxwealds sniff around her things long enough that when she gives up on the tent and slowly approaches they do not run, watching her as carefully as she watches them. Their grassy backs and rootlike tails fascinate her, and the largest of the group seems to leave a greener path in her wake, as though as young plants spring from her path.
When the bushes nearby rustle Morrigan and the foxwealds all turn to investigate, but when someone steps forward the foxwealds scatter, leaving her with an unappreciative glare for her new company. "Subtlety is not your strength."
[ wakey wakey ]
In a darkly wooded area she comes across a body on the ground. Moving close enough to observe the slight rise and fall of the person's chest, she eyes the glossy red and black arms of the plant next to them and scans it to see if someone has made a report yet.
Red Corvette, the description says, and since there seems to be no immediate danger she considers just leaving, but a day or two spent exploring at her leisure and on her own terms -- more or less -- has elevated her mood. She gives the body's shoulder a nudge with her foot, but nothing happens.
Crouching down, she tries a different approach. A distinct crackle of lightning -- only a minor jolt -- arcs between her fingers and the person's side. "Perhaps you should sleep elsewhere."
[ will match brackets if that's your pref. wildcards welcome even if it's dumb magic vs superpowers ping pong; pm or ping gratuitousmagic if you want. I don't mind assuming our characters have met in passing before and holy fuck there's so much I'd like to do that if you feel like swinging more than one thread lemme know. ]