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[scinlae]

[ So last time Morgana appeared on the network you all got a lovely view of her face. This time? Well the tablet has been distinctly pointed towards what looks like a ruined wall, eroded by time or anger it is hard to tell. ]

She is gone.

[ What a lovely opening. The voice comes from off camera, laced with venom and anger. She did not want to remember, she did not want to experience all that again, she hates them she hates them ─

And the Initiative made her love again. ]

She is dead.

[ If she knew more about the tablet, if she cared, she would filter this to the necessary parties (the only ones who would understand her words) but she doesn't, she is far too angry, far too furious to do such a thing. ]

That girl died years ago while Camelot slept, she died and she is never coming back.

[ Is she trying to convince them? Or herself? Who knows and perhaps no one will, but a moment later with heavy footsteps the camera goes dark. ]

Comments

voice

[futurarex]

[it was not to last. if there was one good thing about the enchantments of the weeks past, it was Morgana's change--but there is no such thing as a good enchantment. most unfair is how the memory of Morgana lingers--the old Morgana, the one who is dead.

or is Gwen right? is she there, somewhere, worth saving? seeing Morgana as she was has muddled him, and Arthur first replays her message, to hear the venom in her voice once more, to remind him that she has changed back, that she is no longer the same, that she is dead. he must remember. he must not let his own thoughts betray him, because that will surely be his undoing.

but when he goes to make a reply, he finds it more difficult than it should be. the other Morgana will not stay dead, and so his reply is calmer than it might be, though still heavy.]

And do you mourn that death?

voice

[scinlae]

[ It is the one voice she does not want to hear, the one voice that makes her almost recoil from her tablet and fling to across the dark, damp room she is currently occupying.

For his voice comes with the sounds of laughter, memories of smiles, of the love and affection she once bore him. She can still hear it, still see it, and she wants to scream. She wants to tear out her hair, tear out the memories leaving the taste of ash in her mouth.

He did not like it, her magic, but in the end he accepted her all the same. That girl who died as Camelot slept, betrayed by one she thought she could trust.

(she is dead, she is dead, she was weak and she is dead) ]

Do you?

[ The venom seems to fade against her will, harshness melting away for something more tired. She wants to be angry at him, she wants to scream, she wants to hate him like she did before. It is harder now, so much harder when she closes her eyes and sees his smiling face. ]

voice

[futurarex]

I have known her dead for some time now. All grief fades.

[that admits too much, that admits that there was grief--but he cannot deny it now, not so fresh from seeing her as he knew her for so long.

he should have held his tongue. he should not have spoken to her; he should be above this, all of it-- if he could hate her as he did before (but even then, hate was an uncertain thing, too touched with grief), if he could think only of her sorcery, the way he ought to--but even at that, he hears her voice, I never asked for magic, Arthur you must believe me, if I could give it back I would but I cannot-- ]

A prince cannot afford to linger in grief and weakness. [it lacks something of its usual conviction, but he does his best with it, and moves on quickly, briskly.] But I asked you the question. Do you mourn her?

voice

[scinlae]

[ I have known her dead for some time now.

Something in those words both gladdens and frustrates her, she can feel herself being pulled from two different sides and by god it hurts. She would weep were she a weaker sort, she would weep as the pain spread through her body and mind like wildfire.

She hates him for causing this, but it is not the same hate she wishes to feel, it is feeble and desperate. She blames him, she blames him and Gwen for causing this fissure inside her that she cannot fix nor heal.

With his smiles and acceptance, he has wounded her in ways he could never imagine. ]

A prince. [ She tries to laugh but the sound is pathetic, she tries to find some amusement in the knowledge that she holds but she cannot. Her mind is cluttered with other memories and wracked with pain. ]

I pity her. [ Yes, a distant voice whispers ─ clinging to the memories she wants to so desperately banish, I mourn her greatly. ] I pity her for not seeing the viper in her midst, I pity her for trusting those she should have never trusted.