Magnus l 006
Who: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood, and ugh Jace Wayland
Where: Alec's cottage
Style: Third
Status: Closed
Magnus sat up in bed, back resting flat against the cool wall - feeling the wintry chill through the fragile layers that made up the wall.
He had debated heading back out into the snow, just to spend more time out of the house. But the thought of wet boots and damp pants was unappealing. He'd already changed three times in one day, from his brief sojourns outside. That did seem a bit excessive, even for him, especially without a special occasion that called for so many wardrobe changes.
And so Magnus found himself sitting up in bed, glowering at the opposite wall, exceptionally long legs drawn up slightly, knees bent, arms crossed over his stomach. His socks were black with purple poka dots, borrowed he assumed from a local with big feet and cute taste in socks.
The bedroom door was locked. His Dreamberry was on the bed, beside his hip, close by so that he could feel the vibration of any answering texts or videos. But today the activity seemed to have dwindled. Not even a snarky convo with his new neighbors could draw him out of his mood.
There was nothing. Not texting, not ice cream, not playing in the snow or exchanging magic tricks.
As soon as he was alone again and it was quiet, he felt the conflicting impulses resurface. He wanted to start an argument. He wanted to throw a bag together and stalk downstairs and walk out. He wanted to cuddle with Alec. He wanted to turn Jace into a moth and trap him in a mason jar, just to watch him flit against the sides of the glass - and maybe shake it up whenever he was bored.
Mostly, he wanted the status quo to return to the way it had been before - before Jace arrived and Alec (naturally) invited him to stay with them why did he have to be so generous? Jace is a big boy. Their cottage was simply too small to contain two shadowhunters and a warlock. Said warlock was strongly debating finding his own place, just to avoid the latest shadowhunter - because even the sound of his voice through the walls was grating.
Jace's arrival threatened to rain on his parade. The figurative storm clouds were already moving in. Going out and now locking himself away in his room might seem childish and avoidant, but if anything, he was trying to prevent an epic showdown from taking place. If there were words between him and Jace, he was fairly sure the furniture would pay the price. And it would hurt Alec.
And so he brooded by himself, wondering if this was what it was like to be in Purgatory after all; a place you can't escape, where you're tormented and punished, not allowed to move on. Someone was getting sadistic pleasure out of this. Maybe he was paying for past sins. If that's the case, he really had a lot to make up for and fuck, if Jace was leaving any time soon.
Where: Alec's cottage
Style: Third
Status: Closed
Magnus sat up in bed, back resting flat against the cool wall - feeling the wintry chill through the fragile layers that made up the wall.
He had debated heading back out into the snow, just to spend more time out of the house. But the thought of wet boots and damp pants was unappealing. He'd already changed three times in one day, from his brief sojourns outside. That did seem a bit excessive, even for him, especially without a special occasion that called for so many wardrobe changes.
And so Magnus found himself sitting up in bed, glowering at the opposite wall, exceptionally long legs drawn up slightly, knees bent, arms crossed over his stomach. His socks were black with purple poka dots, borrowed he assumed from a local with big feet and cute taste in socks.
The bedroom door was locked. His Dreamberry was on the bed, beside his hip, close by so that he could feel the vibration of any answering texts or videos. But today the activity seemed to have dwindled. Not even a snarky convo with his new neighbors could draw him out of his mood.
There was nothing. Not texting, not ice cream, not playing in the snow or exchanging magic tricks.
As soon as he was alone again and it was quiet, he felt the conflicting impulses resurface. He wanted to start an argument. He wanted to throw a bag together and stalk downstairs and walk out. He wanted to cuddle with Alec. He wanted to turn Jace into a moth and trap him in a mason jar, just to watch him flit against the sides of the glass - and maybe shake it up whenever he was bored.
Mostly, he wanted the status quo to return to the way it had been before - before Jace arrived and Alec (naturally) invited him to stay with them why did he have to be so generous? Jace is a big boy. Their cottage was simply too small to contain two shadowhunters and a warlock. Said warlock was strongly debating finding his own place, just to avoid the latest shadowhunter - because even the sound of his voice through the walls was grating.
Jace's arrival threatened to rain on his parade. The figurative storm clouds were already moving in. Going out and now locking himself away in his room might seem childish and avoidant, but if anything, he was trying to prevent an epic showdown from taking place. If there were words between him and Jace, he was fairly sure the furniture would pay the price. And it would hurt Alec.
And so he brooded by himself, wondering if this was what it was like to be in Purgatory after all; a place you can't escape, where you're tormented and punished, not allowed to move on. Someone was getting sadistic pleasure out of this. Maybe he was paying for past sins. If that's the case, he really had a lot to make up for and fuck, if Jace was leaving any time soon.