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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Jun 10, 2023 15:52:30 GMT -5
Cantio’s sad little doggy noises seem to have made some kind of impact on Morrigan. Do they look…remorseful? No, it must be a trick to get out of the action taken against them. They’re a good actor, and most people would be fooled. Astrid curses herself to think that she briefly felt sorry for this scam artist, enough so that she thought to be fair and let them into the guild. That is until she found out that Morrigan, despite knowing that Cantio wanted into the guild, had already screwed the red fellblood out of his ticket in once before. Now they’ve done it twice. That cannot stand.
Lawyerstrid’s nose twitches, the slightest bit of her anger peeking through. “A friend would not be deceitful. They would not abandon their friend in a mineshaft and steal from them an artifact that would give them the opportunities they seek on not one but two occasions. Friends would not treat Mister von Lumen in the way you have. They would not see their friends as loyal but harmless hounds that follow in every word they say. And lastly, they would not wear a mask of grandeur and pretend to be what they are not.”
With each word, Lawyerstrid’s voice rises, and the storm behind them gathers. A sweeping wind rushes through the circus, threatening to rip tents from their stakes and send glitter scattering into the sky. It begins to wash away the dreamscape around them like a tsunami wiping a village from the coastline. Thunder rumbles loudly overhead, punctuating Astrid’s every sentence.
“Morrigan Moonweaver, bearer of the false title Wizard of the Wastes, your sham operation will not continue henceforth. What do you have to say for yourself?”
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Post by Cantio von Lumen on Jun 11, 2023 20:07:54 GMT -5
"Yip!"
Translation: Are we, Morrigan? Can you look me in my eyes and tell me that a friendship built on lies is still a friendship? In Zeinav, you showed me the ruins of that old, draconian civilization; and I believed you, but the Mage's Guild didn't when I wrote them. I thought that was okay then, because I knew I had made a friend in someone grand like the Wizard of the Wastes. I looked up to you, but you lied to me about who you were right from the start. You made all of it up, didn't you?
You're not really a wizard, are you?
And in the mineshaft, did you or Cirice ever look back? I know I said I was okay, but I was scared; and alone; and I wondered the whole time if I would make it back to my daughter through the commotion of the mines. Still, that I know is not your fault... but...
Pomtio's little black eyes shimmer with a particular kind of sadness.
"Waf!"
Translation: It still bothers me when I think about it... Did I ever really know you this whole time? The real you? Could we have ever been friends if I've never met you? All this time, I thought I knew a you who wasn't really... you at all...
Pomtio lowers his little teddy-bear ears; and with this whole speech coming from a tongue-lolling pomeranian, the distinction in mood and atmosphere is extreme.
"Bark!"
Translation: Who are you really, Morrigan Moonweaver?
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on Jun 12, 2023 22:40:21 GMT -5
If Cantio’s declaration of friendship, shrouded in doubt and hurt as it was, had cracked Morrigan Moonweaver’s indifferent facade, then the Pomeranian-fellblood’s rapid-fire questions only served to make them retreat further into their shell. With every demand that Cantio Von Lumen made of them, searching for the truth, words that would normally roll off their back seemed to… stick to them, in ways they hadn’t before. It didn’t make sense. Morrigan Moonweaver lied to everyone they met. It wasn’t personal - it was just the cost of business. Cantio Von Lumen had been no different at the start. A young hopeful, and in Morrigan’s eyes, a walking moneybag. Why did it ever matter if the bright-eyed, naive minstrel didn’t get quite what he’d wanted? He’d had the illusion of adventure, something greater and larger than life. That was all Morrigan was ever going to get, so why shouldn’t anyone else have to experience what they lived in their day to day existence, this same hell over and over again, clinging to a lie to give them some semblance of normalcy-? But then. Morrigan met Cantio Von Lumen again. A blunder, if you think about it, really. Part of what made the scam so easy is that you didn’t ever have to meet anyone you’d ever wronged again, so it didn’t matter. But Morrigan had never been satisfied with things being easy, had they? No, they’d decided to take advantage of him again, and again… until they really couldn’t, because they knew him. They knew that he was trustworthy - his choice in company being a scammer and a deranged demonic elf lady was proof of that. They knew he had a daughter, hellion though she was. These things shouldn’t have mattered. But they did. Mostly Morrigan just learned that it was a lot more fun hanging out with Cantio rather than simply trying to divest him of his coin. That had to count for something, didn’t it? They’d wronged him in the past, but they’d more than made up for it, right? They’d given back the gem stolen from the dwarven mineshaft, they’d helped Astrid and Blue Raspberry find that artifact in the orphanage… hell, they’d even sent Cantio a new violin! They never did that! Not for anyone but Kvasir. All for the sake of staying on Cantio’s good side. That’s what this was all for, right? So why was it all crumbling down around them? You're not really a wizard, are you?
Bearer of the false title Wizard of the Wastes, your sham operation will not continue henceforth.
Their voices sounded an awful lot like Lady Kamille, the woman who’d spied into their past and picked it apart like she could see straight into their soul. Castles made of sand fall in the sea... Eventually. And then, cutting through the haze, Cantio’s demand once more. Who are you really, Morrigan Moonweaver?And there was a terrible, horrible moment where Morrigan didn’t know the answer. Behind them, if Astrid and Cantio were paying attention to the sign behind the charlatan, the one that had advertised Morrigan’s act, they would notice that the words had shifted, reading something entirely different. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. “Does it really matter?” Morrigan tried, attempting to scrap together some semblance of dignity. “You have met me. The version that matters. No one gave a shit about that stain.” Good riddance that Kaivalya was gone. Morrigan barked out a harsh laugh. It was difficult to tell from the glitter coating their face, but their eyes might have seemed the slightest bit shimmery. “What is it that you want from me, Cantio? This is what my friendship looks like. If that isn’t good enough, then I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you in that mineshaft. But the guilt of preventing you from getting into the guild that day does not fall on my shoulders. I gave that magical artifact back to Cirice Lunestre so that the both of you could get into the mage’s guild. I can take my licks - I know when I’ve been defeated. You and Cirice were more worthy to enter the guild.”They took a step forward. “When you ask if I looked back, the answer is no. I didn’t look back that day, but neither did Cirice. I didn’t think about it because I knew you would be safe. Because you, Cantio Von Lumen, are far stronger than I will ever be. And Cirice Lunestre didn’t look back because she was hellbent on killing me.” Their eyes narrowed as they looked between Cantio Von Lumen and this strange lawyer. “I’m not the only one who’s concealed their true nature. There’s a demon in that woman, a beast hidden behind cheerful smiles and an innocent nature. And it will eat you if you trust her.”They sighed. “But I digress. You wanted to know who I am. You wanted to know if I’m really a wizard. What does it matter? If the truth is so painful to confront then why not just allow yourself to live in blissful ignorance - that’s the reality you want, the one that made you happy, isn’t it? That’s the person I tried to be for you!”So why the hell hadn’t that been good enough? And behind them, the sign shifted again once more, the words floating around until they read: Please don’t make me say it.
I never asked to be born with this curse.
I can still fix it. Perhaps Morrigan, too, found it easier to live in these blissful illusions than to confront the truth. Then the lawyer started up again, going on about false wizards and shams and what have you. Morrigan grimaced, turning back to her. Ah. So this was what Cantio wanted. “Fine. If it’s money you want, I’ll give you money. All the coin I’ve ever taken from you. Or maybe you want something to help get you into the mage’s guild. I can do that too.” They shrugged before flashing Cantio a small grin, one that held a spark of its old humor, but was betrayed by the tired lines on their face. “Perks of being an alchemist. Enchanted items make the illusion more real. You can take your pick of the lot, I don’t really care. They’re just things. The money is a plus, but that was never really what I was in it for.”Really, they’d just wanted the influence. It was kind of pathetic when you thought about it, but that didn’t really matter now. Especially when this had all come crashing down in the worst way possible.
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Post by Cantio von Lumen on Jun 25, 2023 11:25:42 GMT -5
Pomtio tucks his tail; his eyes dart between the sign behind Morrigan which shifts his outburst into one of guilt. He lowers his eyes to his paws while they speak, ears tilting back slightly when he mentions that Cirice had ultimately had the artifact— which, is true— but why would he deserve to claim that kind of discovery when he had been bumbling his way through an old mineshaft to find his way out? He sighs, his tiny round maw opening slightly as he shuffles his paws nervously into the glitter-infused dirt; he’s never particularly liked verbal conflict, and hearing the tone of Morrigan’s voice makes his stomach turn uncomfortably: what if he’s wrong to be upset? While the fact that he’d been alone down there had horrified him, that wasn’t Morrigan or Cirice’s fault; he had ensured them he would be fine in a bid to look stronger than he is; and they had taken him at his word. It’s not necessarily fair to Morrigan to blame that on them or on Cirice for his own shortcomings. Suddenly, he doubts his reason for being here; this was, perhaps, not the best idea. Pomtio lifts his sad puppy eyes, looking behind Morrigan to the sign; it shifts again in words that Pomtio doesn’t really understand the true depth of; but when Morrigan insinuates that it’s money he wants by being here, a spark flickers in his chest. The little pup bounces up to his four tiny paws from a sitting position, “ Yip!” Translation: I don’t want your money, and I don’t want your trinkets! That’s not why I’m here!Pomtio feels overwhelmed. “ Bark!” Translation: It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter if you’re a wizard or not! I don’t care about that… it doesn’t matter that the stories are made up, or that you conned me out of my money. I mean, it was rude, but that's still not why I'm here!The Pomeranian wrinkles his nose slightly, head lowering. “ Woof…” Translation: Look, I understand the feeling of wanting to be someone else; it was so much easier to pretend I was smarter, braver, and more charming than I really was. For years, I lied to people, and I embellished all of my stories. I’m an entertainer, after all… Hell, I wear a mask everytime I step outside.Slowly, Pomtio settles back on his haunches; his fluffy, curled tail sits drooped in the dirt. “ Yip.” Translation: But then I met people who wanted to care about me, not the person I had always pretended to be.Pomtio looks up at the lawyer beside him, before looking back at Morrigan. “ Bork!” Translation: I met Astrid, and I met Blue, and I met Melodia… and they cared about the person I really was, not the person that I could pretend to be… It’s still hard to face the world without a mask, but I can face them without it because we’re family; and they care about the real me the way I care about the real them. It’s nice, to know that they accept me for me; cowardice and all… like, maybe the me that I am isn’t so bad… Being with them makes me want to be the best kind of me that I can be.
And friends… should be like that, too.
I don’t really care about everything you did in the past… It’s okay. I’m an entertainer, too… I get it… to some degree…I just… wanted you to be honest… what hurt the most was knowing that you lied… and that you kept lying every time we met without fail… That's what makes me question this friendship... Are we friends if being around me makes you feel like you have to be someone else? So what if you’re not Morrigan Moonweaver the Great Wizard? You’re still Morrigan Moonweaver the Alchemist, the Storyteller, and the Adventurer. Your sense of style is impeccable, and your stories are beautifully embellished! I knew that from day one.
This is a debatable fact. Pomtio’s shuffles his paws. “ Bork…” Translation: All I... really wanted by coming here was an apology and a conversation... I just.... I don't want to be lied to anymore.
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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Jun 25, 2023 21:03:48 GMT -5
With great satisfaction hiding behind a fierce expression, Lawyerstrid watches as Morrigan, weaver of lies, gets caught in a web of fate and karma. She watches them start to fall apart, wondering why things are they way they are, wondering why they came here if only to berate them and call them exactly what they are: a sham.
The truth is important to Astrid. She values honesty, and she doesn't want anyone to use the people she cares about for their own gain because they were being dishonest. That aspect of Morrigan needed to come to light and it needs to be dealt with. Satisfying as she imagined this might have been, maybe it wasn't the best way to go about things. This is all pretty childish, isn't it?
Mistakes are a part of life, and Astrid doesn't fear them. She's learned more from messing up than anything, and this... Is just another example of her being a kid and learning a lesson from taking things too far. She still hates the way that Morrigan treated Cantio. She hates that they lied and concealed their true nature. What right does that give her to do the same?
The only one wearing a mask here now is Astrid.
With her will to keep the disguise fading, the visage of the lawyer falls away and reveals her for who she is. This time, unlike other instances when Morrigan has met Astrid, she is not a small, bulky warrior with armor and weapons meant for defending and strong-arming; this time, Astrid is dressed simply in clothes that don’t quite fit riddled with stains and tears that she couldn’t fix on her own. Without gloves or goggles or gauntlets, Astrid is just a scrappy kid from the streets with a dirty face and matted hair.
It’s a stark contrast from the lawyer previously standing before them. Her expression contains the same furrowed brow but there is more understanding than anger in her eyes. Sometimes masks are necessary. They help you feel safe, to let you pretend that everything is okay and that there isn’t hurt down below. But masks have to come off eventually. Everyone shows their true selves eventually. Some people are easy to see through. That’s just the reality of things.
“The truth is painful,” Astrid says, her expression stern but melancholy, her voice even in tone. “It… It can be real painful. But it’s better ta know it instead of bein’ left wonderin’.”
Astrid once thought she lived in a happy household and that the things she experienced were normal. But Cantio, a person with faults, a person who lives with a mask outside of their home, showed her that they weren’t normal. He showed her what unconditional love looks like, and he never asked a thing of her. For that, Astrid will do everything she can to protect him and his heart in the best way she knows how.
Cantio didn't come here for revenge, he came here for an apology, to seek understanding. If that's all he wants, is it right of Astrid to seek comeuppance on his behalf? It feels justified to her in some way. Cantio has given her so much just by being himself and loving her, and she doesn't want anyone to hurt him or take advantage of him. Maybe if she hadn't said anything, Cantio might never have felt any hurt at all.
This revengeture wasn’t the best way. She realizes that now. But the truth coming from the horse’s mouth matters. Otherwise, she just looks like someone holding a petty, childish grudge (which it is, but at least she has some sort of valid reasoning for it).
Her eyes glance past Morrigan at the sign flickering desperate thoughts behind them. Through all this, she’s learning that Morrigan struggles with their identity, with being confident in being themself. Maybe because they don’t think that their true self is worth anything, so they live a life of lies. But Cantio is right. They’ve accomplished some things in their own right. Even if they hide behind masks and lies, they’re still someone who’s tried to make something of themselves. It might not be the best way, but they’re trying.
Astrid’s eyes fall, and she rubs her arm shamefully. “I… I think I get it now. When no one ever said ya were worth somethin’, ya just… try ta fill that hurt in other ways. I didn’t know how much I was hurtin’ ‘til Cantio agreed ta be me da… I thought it was easier ta bury alla that an’ say it’s alright ‘til it came tumblin’ out one day.” She gives Cantio a small, pained smile before she looks at Morrigan with another stern furrow on her brow.
“I know I’ve had a problem with ya since we met, so when I figured out how ya were treatin’ me da, I… did this. We shoulda just talked ta ya. Da really likes ya fer the showboatin’ dummy ya are fer some reason, so… don’t pretend when yer around him. If yer his friend, be yer best self ‘cause that’s what folks who love us deserve.”
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on Jun 27, 2023 10:25:17 GMT -5
It has become all too easy for Morrigan Moonweaver to view the world as transactional. That is how they’ve learned to view things - a game of give and take, admittedly with more taking than giving. Days spent in the circus learning how to charm coin out of strangers and form friendships on the basis of business. In the absence of understanding what it means to simply have someone give you affection, it had become second nature to fix the problem with money.
And yet, here Cantio was. Despite his anger, his confusion, his hurt, he still didn’t want Morrigan’s money. He still didn’t want them to fuck off. All he sought was understanding, the truth. As if getting to know Morrigan was still more important than receiving compensation for the wrongs that Morrigan had done to him. It didn’t make sense. Why go through all this trouble if he didn’t want money? Why did he bother to care now that he’d learned the truth, that everything he thought he knew about Morrigan Moonweaver was a facade?
How in the world was he this kind?
So many words threatened to bubble to the surface as Cantio spoke that Morrigan thought they might choke on everything caught in their throat. Their eyes stung for reasons they couldn’t comprehend. They brought a hand up to their cheek and they were surprised to find it was wet.
Oddly fitting, that a genuine complement would finally be the catalyst to their undoing.
Not something he liked about the illusion. Something that he still thought Morrigan had of value, despite it all. “Heh.” They huffed out a humorless laugh, managing a smile that fell flat as silent tears mingled with glitter on their cheeks. “My sense of style is impeccable.”
Their attempts to muster up some semblance of their own flippant whimsy fell flat as it lapsed into silence.
They blinked as the lawyer standing next to the Pomeranian suddenly melted away, replaced with an unfortunately familiar child. But rather than the armor they remembered and the wicked smirk of a devilish child, she was… uncertain. In dirty, ragged clothes and hair that hadn’t been brushed in gods knew how long. Morrigan couldn’t even muster up the surprise at her sudden appearance. In retrospect, it made sense. They couldn’t blame her for being mad on her father’s behalf. Morrigan wouldn’t deny it - regardless of the fact that they’d stopped doing so, they’d scammed Cantio in the past. But rather than the verbal berating they’d been expecting, Astrid only offered a few somber words of understanding. And that word again. Friend.
Morrigan stared down at her, silent for a long time.
“We’re not so different, you and I.” Morrigan muttered.
They looked to the side, where a small fellblood child stood amongst the crowd. Ignored and forgotten, but still there, despite it all. Their skin was pale and their hair chopped oddly, as if they’d cut it themselves, but from the curve of their horns and the point of their tail it was easy enough to tell who it was.
“Lady Kamille told me the past would come back to haunt me.” That part was spoken to themselves, almost as if they’d forgotten that Astrid and Cantio were here. When they turned back to Astrid, there was no smile on their face. “I thought if I killed that kid then the emptiness would simply… go away. But it didn’t. I’ve always been like this, and it’s not going to change anytime soon.” They offered a weak shrug. “You’re a lucky kid. Found someone who loves you kinks and all.” They tried not to let it show how much her words had cut them to the very core.
When no one ever said ya were worth somethin’, ya just… try ta fill that hurt in other ways.
“The honest to Ginma truth is what you want, then?” They turned back to Cantio. “It’s nothing personal, Cantio. Truly. I’ve never found myself close enough to someone to think the truth ought to matter. I’ve never even considered the possibility that the truth might matter… when you lie for so long it is difficult to stop.”
They shook their head, wiping half heartedly at the wetness that had accumulated on their cheeks, smearing their makeup.
“And some part of you wants it to be true. To really be the person that everyone regards with so much admiration rather than the one that receives nothing but scorn and pity.”
They kneeled down to be at better eye level with child and fellblood-turned-canine.
“You want the truth? The first thing you should know about me then is that I’m not good at doing that. But for you, Cantio Von Lumen, I’ll try.”
They took a deep breath.
“I’m cursed. I have been since birth, really, though I was not made aware of exactly what was wrong with me until quite recently.” Not until Lady Kamille poked around in their past and saw things she shouldn’t have. “It made people treat me different. Like I shouldn’t have been born at all. And for the longest time there was nothing I could do about it… until I decided to take fate into my own hands. I discovered that if I couldn’t have what I wanted,” Or what they thought they’d wanted, “Then it was easy to use my talents to make people think I was actually someone worth giving a damn about. And I like what I do. I’m good at it.”
Perhaps it was not something to brag about, but Morrigan was giving a shot at this honesty thing, even if that meant laying bare the ugly truths.
“That’s how I met you, Cantio. It didn’t matter to me that you didn’t know who I really was, because you wanted to believe I was a wizard who helped you. I used your desire to enter the Mage’s guild to earn a little coin and influence because it didn’t really matter to me whether you gained entry or not. You were happy exploring those caves, and you were happy thinking that you’d discovered something important. And more importantly, you loved who you thought I was, and that was all I cared about.”
They paused, sighing. “Never in my wildest fantasies would I ever imagine that you’d be the first person to catch a glimpse of the man behind the curtain. Or that you’d desire to look further once you caught a glimpse. But I digress once more. Cantio Von Lumen, I never anticipated growing close to you in the way I have. You are powerful and talented and more competent than you know, and I have always envied you these things. And yet, I have always enjoyed our time together. I don’t know when I saw your naïveté as something that should be protected rather than exploited, but it happened. And I’m…”
Here, they paused, as if the words were a great pain to utter. The truth was that they just weren’t used to offering sincere apologies in earnest.
“I’m sorry that I took advantage of you. I’m sorry I sabotaged your chances to get into the guild. I know what it means to have ambition and desire to chase your dreams. If you can’t trust me to help you get into the guild after what I’ve done, I understand. But I don’t want you to be deprived of an opportunity that you deserve because of your power. I’ll help.”
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Post by Cantio von Lumen on Jul 6, 2023 18:53:22 GMT -5
Pomtio sits upright; his head turns and his teddy-bear ears perk when Lawyerstrid disappears; she leaves behind the familiar visage of the Astrid he met in Skypeak. Pomtio’s golden eyes warm in sympathy at the sight of her; it really does feel like so long ago that he met her. In the face of all she’d been through, she had somehow found it in her to smile in the face of a gaggle of strangers asking her all sorts of questions she didn’t know how to answer.
It isn’t long after Astrid finishes speaking that she’s suddenly bundled up in a, perhaps, unexpected hug. Sparks of light fall off of Cantio, finally able to control his form in some way within the dream; but even he is not quite normal here. Most notably, his mid-length hair is pulled up into a neat bun, braided on one side; and his clothes are an awfully drab, neutral set that look similar to style of the Sol City nobility.
Astrid might recognize this version of Cantio— maskless, meek, and unhappy — as the individual he had been before he ran away from his responsibilities in the Capitol Landing. He doesn’t quite look like a child, but doesn’t quite fit the image of an adult, either.
He doesn’t really say anything; just squeezes Astrid tight before releasing her; he ruffles her blonde hair between her horns, smiling warmly at her before he allows his attention to fall to Morrigan, who directs his eyes to the image of a small Fellblood amongst the crowd.
Cantio’s smile softens, disappearing while he watches the tiny Morrigan against the context of the backstory that the dreamscape Morrigan offers. The fellblood knits his brows, fingers tugging nervously against the folded cuff of his overcoat; he looks back at Morrigan, watching them wipe half-heartedly at the smeared makeup on their face.
Cantio can only nod in response.
To hear the truth from Morrigan’s mouth is a strange thing; on one hand, this is exactly what he asked for; and on the other, it’s strange to hear the fellblood confess to trying to scam him. Cantio lowers his eyes, recalling the tour of the ‘Draconian Sunken City’ that had originally led him right to the scam artist; he had ignored all of those red flags. Originally, it was because he couldn’t imagine such a grand wizard lying to him; and then, because he simply chose to ignore and overlook it.
Maybe it was because he wanted to remain ignorant; it’s hard for Cantio to find friendship in general, but it’s even more rare for him to find friendship with individuals that he feels he can relate to. At the end of the day, even if Morrigan wasn’t a wizard, they were an entertainer; and the truth was, Cantio finds their sheer charisma admirable. He enjoys the energy that surrounds Morrigan, even if it isn’t all honesty and sincerity.
His heart aches for the lavender fellblood; empathy warms his chest, and it isn’t long after Morrigan apologizes, that Cantio steps forwards.
The motion is quick, and doesn’t allow a plethora of time for Morrigan to react; but the tall fellblood swoops Morrigan into a tight hug following their explanation. He squeezes them for a moment, before pulling back. “Look, Morrigan,” he starts sincerely, holding the fellblood’s hands in his own unless they were to pull away. “I can tell you, from my experience, that killing that child never quite works out the way we hope it will. I wore a literal mask to kill mine; but it never really died, I just hid it further down and hoped no one would see him there.”
Cantio lowers his lashes, “It wasn’t until Astrid dragged me all the way to an amphitheater to play for her and our family, that I realized maybe I actually don’t have to kill him. Maybe, in some weird way, I owe him; because that child was what put me where I was that day standing in front of them and playing…” He blinks, looking towards Astrid with a warm smile; he releases one of Morrigan's hands and offers it to her, instead. “If I hadn’t left Sol City, and I wasn’t that child, I might have never met Astrid; and even though that child brings with him a lot of baggage, I don’t think I regret him as much as I used to when I think of him that way… and Astrid… she’s been through so much. She’s brave, and clever, and determined… and even though I wish the world had been kinder; as her father, I’m so proud of that person she's become despite it all.”
He looks back to Morrigan, “In some weird way, too… that child you used to be put you where you are now… a talented storyteller, an alchemist, an enchanter— a fellblood determined to fight back against a world that once looked down on them.” He squeezes Morrigan’s hand. “The fact that you’ve never given up, and that you stand before us now as who you are, makes you just as powerful and competent as any mage, doesn’t it? I mean, look at how far that determination and persistence has carried you since then. Just because you’re not some grand wizard that I thought you were doesn’t make you a nobody.”
He takes a short breath, “And… it’s okay, really… I, um…” he trails off for a moment, “I don’t want you to feel like friendship was something forced on you; you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but… if by chance, you do want to start over, and be friends… for real, this time.. My name is Melos Duralli-Casthos, and it’s nice to meet you, Morrigan Moonweaver.”
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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Aug 26, 2023 22:56:12 GMT -5
It’s strange to look at Morrigan, a person whose approach to the world is seemingly without care, and see that if things went just a little differently, if they carried on for a little longer, that Astrid could be in the same position. Hurt as she’s realized she is by being left behind, it’s hard to imagine being so bitter. Well, maybe it’s not. Plenty of people treated her badly, and she very easily could have distrusted anyone who approached, but somewhere along the way, a little bit of generosity set her on a different path.
They are different. At least, they’re different in that aspect. Astrid’s eyes drop to the floor in shame. She’s just become someone else for Morrigan to despise when she could have been someone to offer them a little bit of kindness and help change their outlook. That’s what Cantio’s offering to them now. And in return, Morrigan offers honesty and an apology. It’s a welcome change.
When she’s suddenly pulled into a hug, the embrace is warm and familiar, yet somehow out of place. Astrid sees an oddly younger Cantio, the one she saw in paintings and memories, the one who was never really happy. It’s completely different than the Cantio she knows now. This Cantio needed love too. It seems like everyone here did or still does. If there’s something Astrid’s learned, it’s that family and friends are important for happiness. She’s grateful to have them. Morrigan may be a scammer, but they might learn to let go of their bitterness if someone gives them the chance that everyone probably deserves.
She holds Cantio’s hand tight while he speaks to Morrigan in his soft, musical voice. Even in its melancholy, it is warm and inviting and caring. It makes her feel good to hear that he’s proud of her, almost bringing a tear to her eyes, but she holds it down and gives his hand a squeeze, inching to stand just slightly closer to him. Then… Cantio reveals his true name to Morrigan. In all the months that Astrid’s been with Cantio, she almost forgot that he changed his name. Then again, not checking the name of the manor she and Blue robbed in the winter is what got her in trouble with the guard (and probably his parents, if they ever find out who she is). All told though, Melos is the one in front of her, not necessarily Cantio. But they’re the same person, and just like he said, the child from then is what made him who he is now. It counts for something.
Astrid finally speaks up in a small voice that’s not confident. “Ah… Um, I don’t got no grand reveals like alla that…” She looks between the two adults and then around at the empty void as the dreamscape fades away. “Maybe we should finish this talk in person, so… I’ll shake ya awake.”
With that, Astrid’s dirty child dream form dematerializes in a shower of soft sparks, and she opens her eyes to find herself in the wagon with Cantio still in the dream state. Once he lets the spell end, she reaches out and shakes Morrigan awake.
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on Aug 30, 2023 22:32:41 GMT -5
Morrigan fancied themselves good with words.
Cantio von Lumen had said it himself; Morrigan was a storyteller. They built elaborate fiction, wove grandiosity from nothingness. Even, as these two had just learned, with their own life. It has always been difficult to delineate fact from fiction, because in Morrigan’s mind, if you wanted to believe in it hard enough, then why couldn’t that beautiful lie wrapped up all neatly in honeyed words and embellishments be the truth? That was why they continued to speak, to weave a story, to insert themselves into the very tales they so coveted when they were a child locked in a room they were not allowed to leave. They always had something to say, had to have the last word, always had to make their presence known.
And yet, right now, they found they somehow had none.
What the hell was one supposed to say in response to this? People wanted big, shiny, grand things. So Morrigan made themselves bigger, piled more and more onto the facade until it was choked with melodrama and bright colors and noise. But what Cantio was saying… there was nothing overtly special about the way he spoke, no trimmings and trappings and what have you. They were just words from his heart. Not an elaborate lie. A simple truth.
Morrigan didn’t know how to react to that.
Cantio von Lumen was not strong in spite of his youth - he was strong because of it. Because that child had made the choice to run and grow into an adult who carried so much kindness and compassion in him that it was honestly a surprise that he had not been killed yet. Or, perhaps, not a surprise. Because though Cantio was the antithesis of Morrigan, a beacon of humility and self-reflection, he was one of the strongest mages Morrigan had met. Even if he himself did not believe as such.
“You know, there is a lot I don’t understand about you, Cantio von Lumen.” Morrigan tilted their head, voice soft in the face of such an earnest declaration. “It’s the same thing that intrigues me about Kvasir, I suppose. How the two of you have lost so much in this unfair world and still give little pieces of yourself away until there is nothing left but a raw, bleeding heart for others to take advantage of.”
Truly - that was what they’d found so fascinating about their beloved medic upon first meeting. It was like a rare curio or a puzzle they couldn’t solve. But as time drew on, Morrigan realized that the answer was unimportant in the beauty of its complexity. It was a question that Morrigan could spend their entire life cracking and feel satisfied even if they did not reach the conclusion.
“You are… very kind to say so. But I was a nobody, once upon a time. An inconsequential mistake. When one is locked away like a little defective porcelain doll, they begin to build these ideas of what their life should be. I’d always dreamed and hoped that if I worked hard enough I would be able to make things as they should be. It hasn’t exactly worked out the same way, but…”
They shrugged.
“I suppose it’s not all bad if I have one real fan out of it all.”
They glanced between Cantio - Melos, as he introduced himself, and Morrigan truly should have figured that his name was a stage moniker as well - and little Astrid Stormstone, whose anger had long since fizzled away into something thoughtful. You know, when she wasn’t terrorizing Morrigan within an inch of their life, she wasn’t a horrible kid. It was easy to forget that she was still just twelve, not even yet the age Morrigan had been when they ran away from home. Twelve, and gallivanting around the world in search of adventure and whimsy and love and joy, and she’d found it. They both wore their armor in different ways. And here the three of them now were, with no pretense between them. No more lies.
The only one who’d still yet to reveal themselves was Morrigan.
But… Morrigan was Morrigan. That was who they wanted to be. Even if they could acknowledge that Kaivalya was not dead, that didn’t mean they liked who they were back then. They’d made themselves into their ideal person, someone fun and bright and charismatic and wild and magnetic. They did not want to be that silent, living ghost with no will or want of their own.
But they’d promised Cantio honesty.
He wanted to know them, in all of their facets. He hadn’t yet reacted with pity upon learning of Morrigan’s unfortunate condition. Perhaps he’d be Kaivalya’s first friend.
They took a breath, and steeled themselves.
“It’s nice to meet you, Melos Duralli-Casthos. I’m-“
And then they woke up.
“Wuh…”
Morrigan’s head was pounding with the fury of one thousand hammers banging on their anvils. Morrigan rolled over, letting out pathetic, high-pitched whine as they scrambled for their pillow.
“Five more minutes, Kvasir…” They grumbled, cracking one little sad eye open.
But the girl in front of them was not Kvasir. In fact, she wasn’t even supposed to be here.
“Astrid!” They yelped, scrambling for a blanket - they hadn’t fallen asleep in their birthday suit, had they? Cantio might actually kill them if he found out that they’d accidentally flashed her again! To their enormous relief, they’d passed out in one of their mahogany-red chiffon robes, though the rest of them was a right mess. Their hair was a giant rat’s nest, and there was a little bit of dried wine mixed with spittle on their cheek. And Astrid Stormstone was in their wagon.
“What are you doing here? Didn’t you heed the sign? Wait - if you’re here, that means - you were really in -“
Their face flushed a deep violet as they suppressed the urge to scream, the memories of that dream rushing back all at once.
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Post by Cantio von Lumen on Oct 16, 2023 19:46:43 GMT -5
Cantio squeezes Astrid’s hand while he speaks; and when Morrigan offers their voice in return; the young man standing before them cocks his head. “Huh?” He remarks, barely a hum amongst the void-like silence surrounding their conversation. He smiles sheepishly nonetheless, sympathy glinting behind golden eyes when Morrigan continues— their words, like always, are beautiful even in such true sadness.
A requiem of the world which was unkind to the fellblood. Disparities between what was, and what could have been; the what if’s that settle deep within the souls of not just Morrigan; but all three who are present here within the hazy confines of this dream.
The ‘what if’ things had been better; kinder; lovelier. The ‘what if’ they didn’t deserve what had happened, the ‘what if’ things were just, okay.
He squeezes Astrid’s hand again.
It’s complicated.
Cantio would not change a thing about what happened to him if it meant he landed here with Astrid and Blue and Melodia; but he also knows he’d give up his world in a heartbeat if it meant saving Astrid from the pain she’d already gone through.
He lifts his eyes to meet Morrigan’s as they take a breath; and then, there is nothing again.
The dream fades, a blip of darkness behind his eyes and within his mind that Cantio struggles to bring himself from. He lays lazily, tail swaying slowly, dragging across the floor in a languid back and forth.
Eventually, though, he does bring himself out of it. Cantio’s eyes flutter open, brows furrowed as he pulls himself into a sitting position and holds his head. Gods, what a spell… He looks across the wagon at Astrid, watching as she shakes Morrigan awake.
… Oh shit that’s right, Morrigan.
Cantio winces when they cry out, and begins to laugh nervously while Morrigan stumbles over their words, “H-hey, okay, don’t panic. This looks bad. Uh, it is bad— but don’t panic.” He tries to assure the fellblood, offering his hands in a surrendering gesture as if trying to calm a wild animal. “We’re sorry! I’m sorry, I… it’s my fault, I couldn’t… keep accepting the responsibility of being in my own way, and I was still upset over things, and I just… this is my fault, Astrid was just trying to help me. If you’re going to be mad at anyone, please be mad at me. I’m really sorry.”
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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Oct 17, 2023 23:57:35 GMT -5
With Morrigan and Cantio awake and the dream ended, things descend into a temporary chaos in the wagon. The best thing Astrid can equate it to is the time she stumbled into a sleeping nest of cats in an alley and scattered them all in a panic when she accidentally knocked something over loudly. She almost grabs both fellbloods by the metaphorical scruff, but she stops when Cantio starts apologizing, saying it’s his fault that all of this happened.
“What?” Astrid says with a furrowed brow, head tilted to the side like a confused bird. “No, it ain’t yer fault. This was my idea. Don’t apologize. They deserved at least a little bit of a scare after what they did.” She is not remorseful for entering Morrigan’s dream and doing what she did. Honestly, it feels worse that she dragged Cantio into it, but it all worked out anyway, so she’s not exactly bothered by it. Should they have done this? No. Could they have talked about it without the magic? Yes. Does she care? Not enough to apologize anymore than she already has.
Looking at Morrigan with only slightly less judgment than usual, Astrid eyes them for a long minute. “If yer actually sorry fer what ya did ta da, then I’m done harassin’ ya. Fer now. I’ll figure up a good way ta get da into the guild without ya. Just need ta find another impressive lookin’ magical doo-dad an’ take it back ta them.”
That shouldn’t be too difficult given all the adventures she’s been on so far, but it’s annoying that it has to be done. She did plan originally to come here and demand Morrigan give them something for the trouble, but now she’s not looking to make things any more dramatic than they already have been. Cantio would probably have a heart attack if she made any more demands.
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on Oct 20, 2023 10:26:13 GMT -5
Oh, but Morrigan Moonweaver was too mortified to muster any anger.
They barely even heard Cantio’s apologies and Astrid’s decidedly non-apologies over the roar of their blood pounding in their ears. It was all too easy for one to whisper secrets in the haze of a dream, in a state where everything felt like molasses and nothing was real. Whatever one’s imagination created in the dark of dreams was dead come dawn. Whatever Morrigan admitted to Cantio in those moments, it was with the reassurance that it would all disappear when they woke up…
But it hadn’t, and clearly neither interloper in the Wagon of Wonders had forgotten what Morrigan had said.
It was now that Morrigan lay on a precipice - a dangerous road with two pathways sprawled in front of them. Denial, putting their own self preservation in front of everything else. To insist that everything they said had been nothing more than a prank, and look at their faces, they actually believed that Morrigan had such a horrible weakness!
… But it didn’t feel right, somehow.
Cantio had learned the awful truth of their existence and embraced them for it. Cantio, who was probably Morrigan’s first friend. Cantio, whom had met Morrigan with nothing but kindness time and time again; and even when he learnt of Morrigan’s lies, he extended a helping hand like the fact he’d been taken advantage of didn’t matter. Cantio Von Lumen was an inspiration to others. Everything Morrigan wanted to present themselves as but failed miserably at. And somehow, he never lorded it over others, never acted as anything more than a beacon of sunlight with a kind smile and understanding. One that had not come from its own lack of pain. Somehow he’d seen the ugliness of the world and become better for it.
In the physical world, with no makeup or clothing to act as a defensive shield, Morrigan felt disgusting.
They hastily wiped some drool off the side of their cheeks, feeling the bags under their eyes and the sunkenness of their cheeks. In the absence of being able to perform their usual beautification rituals, they looked rather small and unimpressive. Stripped of their illusions and carefully manufactured grandiosity. Just… Morrigan.
“No, no, you do not have to - do not apologize to me.” They insisted to Cantio. Astrid, they’d hoped for a little more of an apology for trampling upon their private, traveling domicile, but they would take what they could get. Neutrality was better than hostility. “It is I who should apologize to you… the dream was one thing, but it is different when I don’t think it is real. Nor do I blame you for seeking answers in your own way. If it had only been a conversation, I don’t think I’d have given them.”
Tiredly, they shuffled over to their slippers - little black fuzzy things with pincers and tails that resembled tiny scorpions. Morrigan slipped them over their feet and made their way over to the drink station. Rather than alcohol, though, they pulled out a small kettle and some beans; went through the motions of grinding coffee and pouring it into a filter. Soon, boiling water and the smell of espresso filled the air. Morrigan leaned against the table, arms crossed.
“Coffee, Cantio?” They turned to Astrid Stormstone and sniffed, nose upturned. “I’d offer some but I don’t think you’re old enough for caffeine; and people who go poking in people’s dreams don’t get my high-end artisanal beans.”
They turned away from her and back to the taller fellblood.
“I’ll say it again. For real, this time. Cantio - Melos - whatever you want to go by. I’m… ssssssssssory.” Ugh, even the word itself was awkward to say. Morrigan, for once, had no frilly words or embellishments. Those dressed up their lies, not their uncomfortable truths. And this one grated like a motherfucker. “I am. I’m sorry. You are a good person, Cantio. Unfortunately I’m quite accustomed to taking advantage of good people. You don’t have to trust me not to do that anymore, but I’ve no interest in scamming you. I…”
They punched their nose, a budding headache growing behind their eyes.
“I don’t know what I want right now, really.”
Ugh. This was confusing. Feelings were confusing.
“In any case, I do owe you a magic item and an entry to the guild, hmm?” Morrigan hummed. Much easier to equate feelings to transactions and debts and taking. This was like… reverse taking, wasn’t it? They’d stolen something from Cantio - not a physical thing, but an opportunity. The least they could do was rectify that mistake. “You don’t have to trust me after everything, but… you can take something from the wagon, if you need. I’ve plenty of priceless artifacts and old magical items around here, most of them I don’t even understand.”
They paused.
“Though… maybe double check what you’ve selected with me first, if you do. I’ve also got some of my own fake trinkets floating around here.”
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Post by Cantio von Lumen on Oct 23, 2023 20:52:34 GMT -5
“It’s our fault at the very least,” Cantio shakes his head; on one hand, he’s proud of Astrid for being able to admit to her mistakes; even if it may or may not be completely directed by spite… but he needs to be a good influence to admit to his own mistakes. “I should have spoken to you about it— this isn’t exactly a good life lesson on how to handle failure…”
Cantio can admit he is… a little disappointed in himself in hindsight. He should have been an adult in this situation, not a little man powered by his insecurities. He doesn’t want to see Astrid handling her problems through stuff like this, right? That seems dangerous and… not good, and… and he sort of flubbed that up by encouraging the plan to begin with, didn’t he?
Parenting is hard; he’ll probably bumble through this whole ordeal with Melodia at some point, face down on the dining room table after a few too many glasses of wine.
Which, in his case, is about half a glass of wine.
Cantio blinks, looking up at Morrigan apologetically when they refer to them; and apologize in return. Cantio doesn’t interrupt them, but he has to admit he is relieved to have Morrigan’s forgiveness, no matter how the rest of this very real and not dream-like conversation proceeds. “Maybe, but…” he trails off, his shoulders lowering with a sigh; when Morrigan asks if he’d like a cup of coffee, he nods meekly.
”Oh— Astrid can have caffeine, that’s okay. I mean, she drinks Blixt™, and I’m pretty sure that’s all that’s in there; although, I don’t… you don’t exactly drink coffee around the house. Do you have a taste for it, Astrid?” Cantio looks at Astrid, puzzled, completely forgoing the last half of Morrigan’s mildly spiteful response to her with his own rambling. “I can make you cocoa when we get home, if you would rather have that. We still have those really nice grinds from the Moonglade.”
Although, when he hears his name, Cantio perks up and looks at Morrigan. “Oh— not Melos, anymore… not really. Cantio is good.” He answers, sheepishly waving his hands a bit as Morrigan rolls through both of his names. The fellblood’s apology doesn’t fall on deaf ears; and Cantio smiles weakly, sympathetically, up at Morrigan; having made no attempt to stand this entire time.
Cantio, himself, is a man with many lies; and while ‘sorry’ is practically his second language, he is so very familiar with the grating feeling of uncomfortable admissions. “It’s okay, Morrigan. I… I really appreciate your apology.. I’m sorry that we took it this far, I just…” Cantio scratches at the back of his neck, “I um, I took it harder than I thought, I guess… haha.” He laughs sheepishly, but it falls fairly flat.
The fellblood coils his tail around his semi-crossed legs, flicking the furred tip up and down like a nervous cat. He blinks when Morrigan hums, eyes widening slightly when they offer a magical item or a priceless artifact and what the heck, do they just give those out? “Wh— you would do that?” He bumbles, stunned for a moment. His golden gaze softens, “I… really appreciate that... Thank you.”
Cantio places his palms against his knees and pushes himself to his feet. “Astrid, do you want to pick something the guild might be interested in? You’ve already gotten entry, so you’ll probably have a better idea what they like.” He wonders at her, before turning back to Morrigan.
“And, um…”
Fwoomp!
Cantio pulls Morrigan into a hug, tail thumping against the legs of the table Morrigan had been leaning against. “Thank you, Morrigan. Really. For— for the apology, and for the… magic thing… and… artifact or not, magic or not— I’d still like to be your friend.” Cantio releases them, sheepishly folding his hands together in front of him. “You know, if that’s… okay… you really are a better person than you make yourself out to be, you know?”
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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Oct 25, 2023 0:36:05 GMT -5
As much as Astrid wants to snark that no they don’t have to apologize to Morrigan, she holds her tongue. Cantio looks guilty enough – sounds guilty enough – for the both of them. It brings her some satisfaction to hear that they wouldn’t have gotten anything out of Morrigan had they approached this with civility.
Stubbornly, Astrid doesn’t feel like she needs a lesson on handling failure. Her failure in this situation was letting Morrigan into the guild without any way of getting Cantio in first and foremost. Without the knowledge that they had stolen Cantio’s first opportunity beforehand, she felt like she made some headway with the con artist by letting them in after helping acquire the artifact from the willow. Once she learned of Morrigan’s previous antics though…
No, this was fully deserved, and with no one having gotten hurt, it was a perfectly fine way to handle things. So, when Cantio mumbles about some failing, she crosses her arms and looks at him with a certain sternness that only someone of dwarven heritage could muster. Maybe it’s in the way their stocky frame sits or how the brow is heavier over the eyes. Whatever it is, she does not relent.
Of course, the mention of anything food or drink draws her attention. A few bottles of BlitxTM have done more than keep her awake through long nights working in the shop – much to Cantio’s chagrin since he isn’t exactly strong enough to haul her up to her bed when she falls out down there. “Fine, I don’t need none of yer arteesonal beans,” Astrid says with a harrumph. “Da’s cocoa is better anyway.” Admittedly, she doesn’t have a taste for coffee or tea, though she’s not sure if there’s a reason or if she’s just not had any sweet enough for her taste.
It’s when Morrigan offers up an item from their own collection that Astrid really pays attention and perks up. She’d taken notice to their collection while the “adults” were talking, and it’s taken every ounce of self control not to go poking at everything. She looks again at Cantio with surprise. “What d’ya mean ‘why would they do that’?” she asks, dumbfounded by the question. “It’s the least they could do considerin’ the whole reason we came here anyway. In fact, we’ll take ya up on that, we will. Saves us a probably dangerous adventure lookin’ fer somethin’ again. I’m sure da especially appreciates that.”
Yes, she will shamelessly try to play at Morrigan’s like for her father figure. If the fellblood wants to take advantage of people’s kindness, then she’ll give them a taste of their own medicine. So, perusing she goes, looking over the shelves at the various knick knacks and items, trying to parse out anything that could be of particular use or value to the Mage’s Guild, careful not to touch anything but also to keep an eye out for an actual magical item and not one of the fakes Morrigan has the decency to warn them about.
After a few, “What about this one?”s and “Is this one real?”s, Astrid decides between a couple of items: a mysterious looking dried creature paw and an admittedly beautiful silver and gold sword with musical notes inscribed into the Formulae on its surface. The latter seems more interesting and more befitting Cantio’s style, so Astrid scoops up the blade and offers it to Cantio before looking at Morrigan.
“Well, if yer gonna be da’s friend but fer real this time, I s’pose we’re done here,” she says. Her expression is slightly softer than before, but not enough to warrant Morrigan thinking there’s a single hint of remorse (there is). “Don’t go screwin’ me da over again, an’ mayhaps the two of us could get along, yeah?”
With some hesitation, Astrid offers a hand to Morrigan to shake. “Sorry fer interruptin’ yer beauty sleep. Ya definitely need it.”
The little shit has such a smug smirk on her face, which is turned away from Cantio as she gets one final ribbing in on Morrigan before she spins on her heel, expression as innocent as can be, and whips out the magical key that will take them straight home once slotted into the keyhole of the door to Morrigan’s wagon.
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on Oct 25, 2023 8:31:35 GMT -5
Unfortunately, Cantio’s desire to impart good life lessons on the proper ways of handling hurts and opening dialogues for communication was lost on Morrigan. Their baseline for good, productive conversation had come from liars and thieves and conmen all dressed in colorful clothing. Arguments were settled by double crossing and backstabbing. For all Morrigan knew, dream revenge was a perfectly fine and normal method of settling grievances. Even though it had come at the expense of their own humiliation, it did not feel especially out of line. They merely shrugged, unable to properly counter what Cantio was saying.
Instead, they focused on preparing drinks, pulling out two mugs that honestly looked like they’d been filched from someone’s cabinet, broke a few pieces of cocoa up and threw them in the bottom, then filtered the beans and poured the boiling brew into two cups. They nodded along while Cantio spoke, obviously so attentive to his daughter’s tastes and what she enjoyed. They resisted the urge to stick their tongue out at Astrid for her horrible enunciation of artisan and her insult of their fine coffees, only because Cantio was there. It likely was not the best idea to piss him off again so soon after the foundation had finally settled on the new bridges they were building.
So they settled for wrinkling their nose at her while they handed Cantio the mug. “I think I have kiddy juice boxes in the back for my apprentice if you’d prefer.” Spoken with falsified manners and all the thinly-veiled snark.
And then;
“What the fuck is a Blixt™.”
Wait, no, not important. Morrigan could consider the ramifications of a drink-based scam and how they could get on this caffeine capitalistic goodness later.
“Very well. Cantio it is, then.” Morrigan’s tail swished behind them, thoughtful. They knew a thing or two about fake names and the turning of them into an entirely new identity. Morrigan Moonweaver had not existed as they did now when they were born, but it was more their true identity than anything. The one they’d made rather than the one they’d been given. If there was ever one thing Morrigan respected, it was names and what they meant to people.
“You’re within your right to be upset.” Morrigan replied, stirring their drink delicately with a spoon. Their hands, always moving, their eyes flitting everywhere except the fellblood who was currently speaking. “I’ve made a living taking advantage of people to steal their money and adoration. The only difference is that most don’t usually stick around for as long as you have.” They may have been a creature who lacked most general empathy, but Morrigan understood - at a base level - that the people they scammed were usually severely hurt by their actions. They’d just never cared before. It’s me or them had been the core morality dictating their actions, and Morrigan cared very much about the me.
There’d never been an opportunity to learn beyond that.
They nodded. “It is, in this case, the least I can do. I don’t usually dabble in the business of righting my wrongs, but, hey. You know. There is a first time for everything, no?”
They spared a withering look at Astrid Stormstone, who had the look of a conniving little someone who had just learned of someone else’s weak points and was most definitely going to take advantage of it. She was going to have to wake up earlier in the day to pull one over on someone who’d been scamming people since before she was even born.
“Spare a little faith for your father!” They replied, a falsified gasp on their lips. “He’s one of the most powerful mages I’ve met, after all. I’m certain he’d have no trouble securing an item if he were to set out on any dangerous quest right now!” Wait, that wasn’t the point. Clearing their throat, Morrigan continued. “… Which is why I’m more than pleased to help expedite the process so he may receive further training and guidance under the masterful experts of the guild. So please, pick out what you like.”
They expected Cantio to jump in and help his dear daughter to search through their piles of magical junk, but to their surprise, he turned to Morrigan with a determined glint to his eye. Morrigan was about to ask if there was something else they’d forgotten to apologize for, when all of a sudden, they were nearly knocked off their feet by arms sweeping around their shoulders and pulling them into a firm hug.
Morrigan blinked.
Ah. This was. Nice.
With hesitant movements, they completed the hug, an awkward, stilted thing - Cantio had nearly knocked them into their table, and they were utterly unsure of how the hell the mechanics of a good hug worked. But it was a genuine one.
“Thank you, Cantio.” They whispered, their throats feeling dry. “For being my first friend. Not just Morrigan’s… but Kaivalya’s, too.” They managed a small laugh. “The poor bastard never had any growing up, if you could believe it.”
Then Cantio pulled away, and Morrigan could only manage a small shake of their head.
If only I could understand the goodness that Cantio was talking about.
“I’ll take your word for it.” They murmured, too raw from all the emotions that had been exchanged today. Cleared their throat again. “Oi! Little Miss Stormstone, did you find something?”
They spent a good few minutes sifting through piles of trash for a nugget of gold, but eventually, they managed. An animal’s paw Morrigan wrinkled their nose and shrugged at, and a rather delicate magical blade Morrigan had once won in a game of cards. The drunkard swore it was enchanted and Morrigan had even seen it work - supposedly, it was meant to guide the user’s footwork, almost like a duet, during a battle. Fitting for a musician.
“Yes.” Morrigan nodded, glancing at the minstrel. “That one is perfect.”
It would certainly, at the very least, catch the attention of the scholars at the guild. The formulae on the blade had been inscribed by ancient elves in the metal, and was decently complicated. Morrigan sure as hell couldn’t even begin to understand it.
At Astrid’s quiet voice, Morrigan nodded.
“Yes. Real friends. I hope.”
They accepted her handshake. It was difficult to imagine themselves and Astrid ever getting along in any real capacity, but at the very least, they could attempt to bury the hatchet for the one common link they had between them; genuine care for Cantio.
… And then Astrid Stormstone opened her big fat mouth.
“Oi! I’ll have you know this divine face is au naturale, you hear me?” They grumbled as Astrid made her way to the door.
There were some things that wouldn’t change, it seemed.
They spared a quick glance for Cantio and a crooked grin before holding a hand out to him, as well. “Next time I see you, it best be with tales of your stunning entry into the guild, okay?” Their eyes sparkled with mischief. “Otherwise I’ll be paying those stuffy bastards with a visit and a choice glitter bomb.”
And for once in their life, they meant every word.
The sincere and honest truth, for a friend.
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