[ location :: enfys's room ]dieneidioMarch 30 2010, 17:13:07 UTC
The door swings open and the girl of the hour had...gone back to sleep, judging by how she's still wearing her pajamas (a kind way of saying 'camisole and underwear') and her hair is in the kind of disarray one has to have long, thick hair to achieve.
Morgana smiles at the sight of her. It's not the clothes, or the hair, but that whatever their captors did, none of it, judging from herself, Arthur, the people from the Glass House, and now Enfys, caused any genuine harm.
"There were cats, it was surreal." This appears to be the extent of Enfys's commentary on her experience, and she opens the door wider so Morgana can come in past her if she likes. Her bedroom has been swiftly personalized much the same way she set to settling in at the Royal Chambers; there are glow-in-the-dark stars affixed to the ceiling, candles on almost every flat surface, rows and rows of nail polish, draping scarves that she must almost never actually wear laid over her mirror.
Gillian Owens would be comfortable in a room designed to Enfys's tastes, let's put it that way.
Morgana does come in, taking a moment to examine the room. "I was in a house made of glass. I was fortunate with the company, but the library would have suited you better," she says, while taking in the details of the room. It looks comfortable, and it certainly looks like Enfys, but she's not quite ready to offer it the appropriate compliments.
She does smile when she looks up at the ceiling. "It looks like you ran around the room and dropped pieces of yourself," she says, fancifully.
"There was a library?" Enfys perks up with interest, in the midst of digging out a box of matches to start lighting some of those candles- they're not just there for show, after all, even if she'd blown them all out when she went to bed. The remark on her room gets her attention, though, and she holds a lit match up thoughtfully while she looks around it.
"One day I want to get a room and paint a sky mural all around all the walls," she says, a little wistfully.
"There was. It was stacked with books that make Geoffrey of Monmouth look positively young," It's a reference from home, but Morgana doesn't think of it. "All on ghosts, and magic and the dead."
Painting rooms is not done in Morgana's time. Everything is simply stone gray. She simply nods at the suggestion.
In another life, she's done it twice already; Enfys doesn't live that life, where her mother didn't die but Anders Blakely did, so she can't see violet and black paint across the walls and a nearly full moon except in her imagination. That's where it'll stay, at least for now, because there's an acceptance tied up in wanting it that she can't quite deal with.
"I wonder if we could ever get back into those places on purpose," she says, thoughtfully, lighting a candle and shaking the match out.
"I doubt I would want to go back. The walls can move." Morgana's not afraid of it, just irritated. "And the inscriptions on the walls, Latin, and full of pleading."
She reaches into her robe's pocket. "I accidentally," making it clear she is not a common thief, "brought this back with me from my excursion." She holds out Veneficus Mortuus. It's small, and old; it's black leather cover crumbling a little, and page edges show it is well used.
"That's disturbing," Enfys says absently, of the pleading inscriptions; she wonders about it, but doesn't dwell. There's been a little too much disturbing in her life to get sidetracked when she doesn't want to be, which is...a concerning trait for a twenty-four year old woman to have, frankly. Ignoring this - it's not like being a little bit broken is anything new and unusual to her - she takes the book instead, treating it as carefully as she'd treat a child. "Oh, this is fantastic, though..."
"I thought," Morgana realizes that even though she knew what she would do with the book, it's an odd gift. "I thought you might be able to look after this, until it can be returned."
Seeing as how Enfys is not a lady, she is totally fine with stealing; Morgana can probably guess at that from the guilelessly innocent beam she bestows on her, her fingers wrapping around the book like she has absolutely no intention of surrendering it to anyone, ever again. "I'll take care of it," she promises, shining with sincerity and piousness and her own innate inability to pull off 'innocent' without immediately looking untrustworthy.
Morgana knows exactly how likely Enfys will be to ever return the book -- if the proper owner can be found. "I thought that it might make a nice, temporary addition to your collection in the library."
She pauses for a minute, taking another long glance around the room. She doesn't want her request to be associated with the book.
"What's that?" Enfys hugs the little volume to her chest, leaning against the table she's set in the middle of the room and looking at Morgana with interest- it's unlikely that Morgana's going to come out with anything that she'd be inclined to deny.
"I would like to go home," Morgana corrects herself, "Back to the Royal Chambers, tomorrow, if that that's possible."
She's asking Enfys, as she'd like to make all this a fait accompli, and she's yet to actually check with Trixie. As much as she appreciates everything, Morgana's not entirely sure how well she would deal with any denials.
And she has a plan when she goes to see the master of the house to ask permission to quit it.
"Considering the situation, I thought it would be wise if you were the one to escort me."
Morgana smiles. The way she's worked this out, if enough people seem amenable to the idea, the more likely she'll be released. "No," she says, "not Arthur." She leaves out, this time. "You would be the wiser choice."
The door swings open and the girl of the hour had...gone back to sleep, judging by how she's still wearing her pajamas (a kind way of saying 'camisole and underwear') and her hair is in the kind of disarray one has to have long, thick hair to achieve.
('Achieve' may not be the word we want here.)
"Morgana!"
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"Did you have an entertaining adventure as well?"
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"There were cats, it was surreal." This appears to be the extent of Enfys's commentary on her experience, and she opens the door wider so Morgana can come in past her if she likes. Her bedroom has been swiftly personalized much the same way she set to settling in at the Royal Chambers; there are glow-in-the-dark stars affixed to the ceiling, candles on almost every flat surface, rows and rows of nail polish, draping scarves that she must almost never actually wear laid over her mirror.
Gillian Owens would be comfortable in a room designed to Enfys's tastes, let's put it that way.
"You look all right. Are you all right?"
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She does smile when she looks up at the ceiling. "It looks like you ran around the room and dropped pieces of yourself," she says, fancifully.
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"There was a library?" Enfys perks up with interest, in the midst of digging out a box of matches to start lighting some of those candles- they're not just there for show, after all, even if she'd blown them all out when she went to bed. The remark on her room gets her attention, though, and she holds a lit match up thoughtfully while she looks around it.
"One day I want to get a room and paint a sky mural all around all the walls," she says, a little wistfully.
Reply
Painting rooms is not done in Morgana's time. Everything is simply stone gray. She simply nods at the suggestion.
Reply
In another life, she's done it twice already; Enfys doesn't live that life, where her mother didn't die but Anders Blakely did, so she can't see violet and black paint across the walls and a nearly full moon except in her imagination. That's where it'll stay, at least for now, because there's an acceptance tied up in wanting it that she can't quite deal with.
"I wonder if we could ever get back into those places on purpose," she says, thoughtfully, lighting a candle and shaking the match out.
Reply
She reaches into her robe's pocket. "I accidentally," making it clear she is not a common thief, "brought this back with me from my excursion." She holds out Veneficus Mortuus. It's small, and old; it's black leather cover crumbling a little, and page edges show it is well used.
Reply
"That's disturbing," Enfys says absently, of the pleading inscriptions; she wonders about it, but doesn't dwell. There's been a little too much disturbing in her life to get sidetracked when she doesn't want to be, which is...a concerning trait for a twenty-four year old woman to have, frankly. Ignoring this - it's not like being a little bit broken is anything new and unusual to her - she takes the book instead, treating it as carefully as she'd treat a child. "Oh, this is fantastic, though..."
Reply
Again, ladies do not steal.
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Seeing as how Enfys is not a lady, she is totally fine with stealing; Morgana can probably guess at that from the guilelessly innocent beam she bestows on her, her fingers wrapping around the book like she has absolutely no intention of surrendering it to anyone, ever again. "I'll take care of it," she promises, shining with sincerity and piousness and her own innate inability to pull off 'innocent' without immediately looking untrustworthy.
Reply
She pauses for a minute, taking another long glance around the room. She doesn't want her request to be associated with the book.
"I wanted to make a request of you."
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"What's that?" Enfys hugs the little volume to her chest, leaning against the table she's set in the middle of the room and looking at Morgana with interest- it's unlikely that Morgana's going to come out with anything that she'd be inclined to deny.
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She's asking Enfys, as she'd like to make all this a fait accompli, and she's yet to actually check with Trixie. As much as she appreciates everything, Morgana's not entirely sure how well she would deal with any denials.
And she has a plan when she goes to see the master of the house to ask permission to quit it.
"Considering the situation, I thought it would be wise if you were the one to escort me."
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"Oh! No, absolutely, of course I will- I wouldn't trust anyone else." She reconsiders this after a moment, and adds, "Well, I guess Arthur."
She guesses.
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"Considering all that has happened of late."
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