potentially york's next murderer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ex_oneiromancer912) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
realityshifted2011-02-12 06:17 pm
ex_oneiromancer912) wrote in realityshifted2011-02-12 06:17 pm
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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.
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