video ♛ sᴏ ɪ'ᴍ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴇᴍʙᴇᴅᴅᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғʀᴏsᴛ

[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

[scinlae]

I would like that. [ The thought of being far away from the apartments stills the bitterness clinging to the edge of her lines. ]

Take me there.

[sharpe]

[ He nods to her before he starts walking, taking small soft steps west from the main marketplace. It's a small place less than two hundred paces away from the marketplace, and silence falls around them, broken periodically by the sound of the rain.

They have almost reached the place before Sharpe speaks again. ]

Do you mind if I ask what were you doing out in the rain, ma'am?

[scinlae]

[ For the time she both enjoyed and loathed the silence, thoughts scuttering through her head like mice sent to run by an angry cat.

She almost jumps at the sound of his voice, eyes moving from the path beneath her feet to him. ]

Walking. [ A lame excuse, even she can see that, but the only one at the front of her tongue. ] Trying to banish unwanted thoughts.

[sharpe]

[ It an't good fer yer health, ma'am, Sharpe almost says, but he knows better than to let those words slip. He has more than an inkling that Morgana won't appreciate him saying something like that.

Instead, ]

I can't do anything 'bout those thoughts of yers, but at least we'll be warm. [ He jerks his chin forward. ] We're here.

[scinlae]

Warm and better company is all I need. [ Something to distract her from her thoughts, something else to focus on. ]

Let us inside then, before death catch us both.

[sharpe]

Aye, ma'am.

[ He leads her beneath the roof edge that juts out from the side of the building. Turning around, Sharpe whistles lowly at the non-stop, endless rain, and he wonders how there's ever food because surely even the hardiest of barley should've been drowned by now.

Well. That's as good a conversation as any to have. He leads her inside. ]

How'd you think they grow grain and such here, ma'am, what with the rain and all?

[scinlae]

[ She blinks, giving him a puzzled look. The question is odd, she thinks, partly because it is not something she has ever thought of. (her mind is too consumed by other things) ]

Under rooftop, perhaps. [ If they grow their food at all. ] They achieve light without candles or flame, have machines made of metal that whir and make noise. I imagine they have their ways of growing food to feed us all.

[sharpe]

[ Under rooftop, with machines. Sharpe whistles quietly under his breath. Looking around the little place, he leads Morgana over to a warm corner that's not entirely hidden by shadows but which will have people leaving them alone enough.

(He has been told differently plenty, but Sharpe still fears of a lady's reputation if she is seen alone with a man, unchaperoned.) ]

Sounds like magic, ma'am. [ He chuckles softly. ] And there ain't even any of that sort 'round me world!

[scinlae]

[ Lucky then that her reputation is already so damaged, at least in the eyes of certain men.

She does not seem to care; he is trusted, sworn to her service, that is all that matters to her. Let the masses speak whatever they wish to speak, worse has been said of her and she is sure worse will be spoken still.

A sigh of relief leaves her lips as she sits herself down, leaning off to the right to idly wring her hair of water. It takes her only a few moments before she turn her gaze back to Sharpe. ]

Magic, certainly. [ Her lips twitch into a smile, amusement threatening to break through the worn mask she wears. ] I do not know how they did it, but it seems they are capable of bending lightning to their will. It is what powers their weird contraptions.

[sharpe]

[ She's beautiful when she smiles, Sharpe thinks, and his fingers twitch on he table. He's reaching out even before he realises what he's doing, and his fingers are threading through her wet hair, through the loose strands not caught up by her hands as she wrings the water out, and Sharpe's eyes are fixed on her lips.

Lucille, he reminds himself. He made a promise- and she is a Lady, and he knows well enough that he is unsuited to any Lady. He lets his hand drops back to his side before he stands up. ]

I'll get us some drinks, ma'am.

[scinlae]

[ The motion catches her off guard, forcing her to stop, a raw sort of surprise dancing about her features. Any other time she might encourage it with a meaningful look and a teasing smile, but it doesn't cross her mind to do so.

(he would be hers fully if she managed to lay a claim on his desires)

Yet exhaustion robs her of thoughts and plans, making her reaction as real and raw as can be. When his hand falls she flinches slightly, looking to the wall before back at him. ]

Yes, thank you.

[sharpe]

[ She doesn't need to take hold of his desires to have claim him - he's claimed well enough already. In fact, if she allows his desires, he won't be as respectful towards her. (And this will allow him to forgive her easier if she betrays him, because lovers who do so will only remind him of Jane, of Rossendale, and that angers him more than he can say.)

Yet now Sharpe knows nothing of it, taking deep breaths as he orders a couple of hot teas. He brings the tray over to the table, looking at Morgana for a long moment before he slides a mug over to her. ]

Here you go, ma'am. It ain't much, but it is hot.

[ He wraps his own hand around the mug, blowing lightly on the steam. ]

[scinlae]

[ She shakes her head of her thoughts, tracing lines on the table as she waited. She thinks she should laugh, for she clearly has had some sort of affect on him, and with so little effort too. But the laughter doesn't come, exhaustion bars such things.

Upon his return she looks up, taking the mug between her hands. She eyes it for a moment, a suspicious look entering her eyes, before lifting it to her mouth.

(She has been offered drink before, some water by a supposedly kind hand only to discover he offered death instead of aid.) ]

Thank you.

[ She blows at the steam, not yet taking a sip. ]

What is it?

[sharpe]

{ He's not surprised that she might be suspicious. Sharpe looks at the table, picking up what looks like a paper cartridge of powder but is actually sugar. He dumps a packet in, and stirs the mug. ]

Tea, ma'am. [ And Sharpe can't help but grin, just a little bit teasing. ] I didn't make it, so it ain't terrible-tasting.

[scinlae]

Tea? [ It sounds queer to her, never having heard of such a thing before. Warm drinks were really limited too warm ale or something akin to that in her time. ]

I would not notice, even if you had, I have never had this "tea" before.

[ Her caution wavers until finally she takes a sip, just enough to get a taste for the stuff. ]

[sharpe]

[ What. Sharpe puts down his mug a little bit too hard, splashing hot liquid everywhere. He swears under his breath, grabbing the edge of his shirt and dabbing on his hand- and his eyes are a little wild on her. ]

You've never had tea before?

[ ... Woman you sound English and you have no tea???? ]

[scinlae]

[ She looks puzzled, unsure as to why he is so... well shocked. ]

No. We have wine, water, and other ales but no tea.

[sharpe]

[ He laughs, half-relieved, half entirely too amused. ]

I thought you were going ta say you've got no wines or ales next. [ He sips at his tea. ]

It's tea leaves boiled with water, ma'am. Bitter on the time, but it wakes you up well and calms you down.

[ ... Sharpe you just contradicted yourself. ]

[scinlae]

[ This time she gives him an odd look, tilting her head slightly. ]

It calms you yet also wakes you? [ WHAT ON EARTH? ] What a bizarre drink.

[sharpe]

[ He chuckles. ] Aye, 'tis strange. But you won't catch an Englishman without tea near his person if he has any say 'bout it.

[scinlae]

[ She shakes her head. ] Well, I can imagine why. [ She takes another sip. ] For all it strangeness, the taste is enjoyable.

[sharpe]

[ He chuckles quietly. ]

I ain't know an Englishman or woman who don't like tea.

[scinlae]

I have never known an Englishman or woman.

[sharpe]

[ Blinks, and Sharpe laughs quietly. ]

Pardon me, ma'am, but you always sound English ta me.

[scinlae]

I do? [ By the standards of these people she would be some sort of English/Irish cross, however such places did not exist in her time. There was simply Albion and the kingdoms that existed within her. ]