[ So, there's this kid having a pastry. He doesn't look too odd, but, well. He has a sword at his side bundled up in black and gold cloth. Approach with caution. ]
[ She's seen plenty of swords in her time; they are good for dying upon. Sitting at a nearby table, she smokes cigarette after cigarette -- looking at the young man and his parcel wrapped in cloth idly. Outside the window beside her, the sidewalk is thick with crows. ]
[ Seth continues to munch idly on the sweet confection, utterly oblivious to the world around him as it turns. Often, he will take a moment to look at his sword, eyes filling with a faraway look until the moment passes; he seems at ill ease. ]
[ There is death on him, she can tell that much, but death lingers on so many that there is very little that distinguishes him from all the others. Still, she is curious. Stubbing out her cigarette, she rises and then walks over and -- without a word -- pulls the chair out across from him to sit down on it. ]
[ Now that, that gets Seth attention. His world is not a world where women simply waltz on over and plop themselves down near him, it is not a world where he allows others to be near, to get close without his express permission; this women is an intruder, and he reacts to her as such: pulse quickening, hand subtly moving to the Firebrand, the hairs on the back of his neck standing ramrod straight. ]
...Do I know you?
[ Before addressing her, he slips his hand beneath the soft fabric wrapped around the Firebrand, gently touching its hilt. His voice oozes weariness, caution. ]
[ The woman narrows her eyes at him, though she smirks very faintly as if amused. She knows of caution and of temper -- both play important parts in war and therefore are parts of herself. Casually, she rummages around in the pocket of her white trenchcoat. Cigarette. Lighter. She watches him through the flame and then through a mouthful of smoke. ]
No. Not yet, cautious one.
[ If she wanted to, she could peer into him -- open him up and unravel the yarn of Fate that has been spun for him, just to see where his story ends. But, for now, she does not. She nods towards his sword. ]
It will take more than that to cut me down, if you wish it.
[ He narrows his eyes, fingers instinctively tightening around the hilt beneath them, that nearly-instinctive rage rising to the surface, all molten hot and hungry for blood. ]
Oh, really?
[ He lets the words hang there, half-threat and half-question, almost daring her to move. The Firebrand nearly thrums, feeding off of the emotions he's barely containing, its fire just as ready to be released, just as anxious to taste the air and erupt out in all directions.
Just like home, he thinks, and then -- He reminds himself to curb his temper, and slowly uncurls his fingers, laying his hand down flat across the pommel of the blade: a gesture of peace, surely. ]
...Do we have business, then? [ He gives her a quick look, up and down and then back again. ] I don't remember coming here to meet anyone -- especially a woman.
[ The Morrigan cares very little for gestures of peace, especially since they deny one of her sources of worship. Still, the gesture has meaning to the boy, and that is enough to satisfy her for now. Part of her is tempted to deny this concession, to see what more this young man has to offer. His anger -- she can almost taste it -- and it is glorious to her.
But. She pauses and inhales more smoke to keep from laughing, though she continues to smile. Outside, more crows have gathered and they cry out in chorus -- as if to laugh for her. ]
I am so much more than a woman, though I do not expect you to understand. You have a mind of anger and impulse -- so useful in so many things, but not in this. [ An exhale. ]
We may have business if you wish it. If not, return to your melancholy thoughts. Do not let this stranger disturb you.
[ He could ignore her. Could. Seth could get up, walk away, never look back, and go about the rest of his day trying his damndest to forget this woman in white, with her rudeness and her smoke and her pretentiousness; go about his day as if she never existed, as if his time were never wasted by someone that interes--
He shook his head. ]
I'm listening. [ A beat. His express remains controlled, nearly stoic. ] --Though I'd appreciate less guessing about my character. I'm not a book for others to try and read.
[ The Morrigan waves her cigarette through the air -- grey smoke trailing. As she does so, it stops smelling completely like smoke and takes on a fairly different scent. Incense and rosehips, leather and steel. So much old blood. ]
All men are books for me to read, for that is my claim. But I will not, if it please you. Since you have asked so kindly of me. [ She takes another drag from her cigarette. The tip burns blue instead of red. ]
If you were to tell me your name, I would tell you mine. Since I cannot glean it from your pages, will you offer it instead?
Nice trick. Does it come in anything from this century?
[ Despite the bravado, the smoke does bother him on a nearly intrinsic level. It's too thick, too cloying; the hint of something other than cancer burning on at the edge of her lips makes him tense up again, spine straightening just so to try and rise even a few millimeters above the trailing gray. ]
[ This time, she laughs. A harsh noise, like birds crying. ]
It does.
[ Another exhale from her lips and it is the smell of desert wind and sand. Of fallout and of burning rice fields. Paper money, still damp from some man's palm. ]
[ He opens his mouth to say something, to retort in a way he knows will somehow, someway hurt her, but all that wells up and out of him is a small, gentle laugh. She had a rather strange sense of humor, this woman. ]
It's Seth.
[ He smiles, quick and vicious, like a knife in the spine. ]
[ One last breath of smoke and then extinguishes her cigarette in the water of the small vase on the table. The flowers in it seem to wither when her hand comes near, but then raise their faces again once she has pulled back. She smiles at the young man named Seth, approvingly. ]
I am called the Morrigan, though others have given me many other names. I hold dominion over certain things in this world so that, when men may act, I receive worship.
[ Seth eyes the Morrigan -- which is, admittedly, a strange name. But whaetevr -- as she puts out her cigarette, his eyebrow perking up at the sight of the flowers within the vase almost...bowing to the woman before straightening back up again. Strange; but it's not like the court magi couldn't do the same. ]
Do I know about magic, you mean? [ He leans back, hand finally drawing away from the Firebrand for the first time since she decided to sit. He sighs. ] --Or are we talking about something else that can make plants act in ways they shouldn't?
[ She tilts her head to one side, studying him with idle curiosity. Although magic continues to exist in this world, it's sway over men and gods has all but dissolved with the passage of time. And yet, so young, to know of it. It is strange thing to her. ]
Powers greater than magic do exist. I am among them.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
...Do I know you?
[ Before addressing her, he slips his hand beneath the soft fabric wrapped around the Firebrand, gently touching its hilt. His voice oozes weariness, caution. ]
Reply
No. Not yet, cautious one.
[ If she wanted to, she could peer into him -- open him up and unravel the yarn of Fate that has been spun for him, just to see where his story ends. But, for now, she does not. She nods towards his sword. ]
It will take more than that to cut me down, if you wish it.
Reply
Oh, really?
[ He lets the words hang there, half-threat and half-question, almost daring her to move. The Firebrand nearly thrums, feeding off of the emotions he's barely containing, its fire just as ready to be released, just as anxious to taste the air and erupt out in all directions.
Just like home, he thinks, and then -- He reminds himself to curb his temper, and slowly uncurls his fingers, laying his hand down flat across the pommel of the blade: a gesture of peace, surely. ]
...Do we have business, then? [ He gives her a quick look, up and down and then back again. ] I don't remember coming here to meet anyone -- especially a woman.
Reply
But. She pauses and inhales more smoke to keep from laughing, though she continues to smile. Outside, more crows have gathered and they cry out in chorus -- as if to laugh for her. ]
I am so much more than a woman, though I do not expect you to understand. You have a mind of anger and impulse -- so useful in so many things, but not in this. [ An exhale. ]
We may have business if you wish it. If not, return to your melancholy thoughts. Do not let this stranger disturb you.
Reply
He shook his head. ]
I'm listening. [ A beat. His express remains controlled, nearly stoic. ] --Though I'd appreciate less guessing about my character. I'm not a book for others to try and read.
Reply
All men are books for me to read, for that is my claim. But I will not, if it please you. Since you have asked so kindly of me. [ She takes another drag from her cigarette. The tip burns blue instead of red. ]
If you were to tell me your name, I would tell you mine. Since I cannot glean it from your pages, will you offer it instead?
Reply
[ Despite the bravado, the smoke does bother him on a nearly intrinsic level. It's too thick, too cloying; the hint of something other than cancer burning on at the edge of her lips makes him tense up again, spine straightening just so to try and rise even a few millimeters above the trailing gray. ]
Reply
It does.
[ Another exhale from her lips and it is the smell of desert wind and sand. Of fallout and of burning rice fields. Paper money, still damp from some man's palm. ]
Better now, swordsman?
Reply
It's Seth.
[ He smiles, quick and vicious, like a knife in the spine. ]
And now, it's your turn.
Reply
I am called the Morrigan, though others have given me many other names. I hold dominion over certain things in this world so that, when men may act, I receive worship.
Do you know of such things?
Reply
Do I know about magic, you mean? [ He leans back, hand finally drawing away from the Firebrand for the first time since she decided to sit. He sighs. ] --Or are we talking about something else that can make plants act in ways they shouldn't?
Reply
Powers greater than magic do exist. I am among them.
Reply
Leave a comment