potentially york's next murderer (
ex_oneiromancer912) wrote in
realityshifted2011-02-12 06:17 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
when she comes here, she talks to the trees
[Like a fairytale heroine, Morgana walks through this strange land with her red velvet cloak wrapped tight around her. She takes careful and nervous steps across the floor, trying hard not to think of what isn't beneath her feet, and under her cloak is the faint outline of a hilt. Morgana stops at the edge of the forest, near a silver tree. It seems the most sensible place to make her appeal.]
[She speaks to herself at first, quietly, her hands drawn together as if she wants to wring them but is just barely holding back. She talks to herself first, nervous.]
I don't know any kind of magic that could form this. Even the Sidhe, surely . . . Perhaps those children were—but this cannot be Avalon. No apples even on this unearthly tree.
[The glass floor reminds her of the crystal shells that hold the stars and planets up in the sky. It's terrifying. But still she must speak.]
[Morgana gathers herself, and her almost-wringing hands become clasped together, controlled. She straightens up and lifts her head.] Sorcerer or Sidhe or whatever other being you may be, you will not convince the king of magic's goodness if you continue to wield it against him and his family. Should any ill come to my guard or to me, there will be retribution. You hurt yourself and all your people by such action.
Speak to me. I want to help. I too would see magic given its old place as partner and asset to Camelot's throne.
Please come forward. It's clear I could do you no harm even if I so desired.
[She speaks to herself at first, quietly, her hands drawn together as if she wants to wring them but is just barely holding back. She talks to herself first, nervous.]
I don't know any kind of magic that could form this. Even the Sidhe, surely . . . Perhaps those children were—but this cannot be Avalon. No apples even on this unearthly tree.
[The glass floor reminds her of the crystal shells that hold the stars and planets up in the sky. It's terrifying. But still she must speak.]
[Morgana gathers herself, and her almost-wringing hands become clasped together, controlled. She straightens up and lifts her head.] Sorcerer or Sidhe or whatever other being you may be, you will not convince the king of magic's goodness if you continue to wield it against him and his family. Should any ill come to my guard or to me, there will be retribution. You hurt yourself and all your people by such action.
Speak to me. I want to help. I too would see magic given its old place as partner and asset to Camelot's throne.
Please come forward. It's clear I could do you no harm even if I so desired.
no subject
So it would hold in a place like this. Are you its conjurer?
no subject
[Right?]
I am a magician... Of a sort, yes. But my lands are far from here.
...Another world, in fact.
no subject
[Morgana stands up a little bit straighter at that. You don't grow up in Camelot without developing healthy wariness of such things.] From what land do you hail, sorceress?
no subject
[It seems a apt correction, even if she sighs slightly just after it. Damn, going between dominating demons and interacting with people is hard.]
...Have you just arrived here?
no subject
no subject
That's what's happened to everybody else.
...There is a brochure stand here that explains everything better than I probably have time to. May I lead you to it?
no subject
no subject
[She nods, just slightly, and turns: ambling in the direction of the information kiosk in a faintly regal way.]
What's your name?
no subject
no subject
[A small smile crosses her face. Not exactly happy but somewhere between proud and thoughtful.]
Queen of... I'm not sure how to describe it.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[Interesting...]
Then I suppose you could call me a queen of demons, if you were so inclined.
no subject
no subject
[Her head lowers, just slightly as she thinks it over] I'm not sure what I am now.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[...She does, a little.]
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[Like Loss still not being found. Drat it.]
They're common to early days, I suppose.
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)