( OPEN ) system zero

[hating]

» WHO? Morgana + anyone who wants to get hit in the face with a communicator
» WHEN? 5/18, you know, around then
» WHERE? deck 6 corridors, observation deck
» WHAT? Morgana wakes up, thinks her communicator is possessed and then yells at the moons (Old Witch Yells At Space)
» WARNINGS? None, but I'll edit accordingly and warn in subject lines if anything comes up!


a; outside level 6 quarters

[ all things considered, this is not where she expected her soul to end up.

the cold, grimy floor of the deck corridor is not so unfamiliar to her that morgana is perplexed. no, it feels like somewhere she was before, and this dim lighting certainly doesn't help. there are key factors missing, and she uses those to ground herself. Don't forget about those things. It is not the same, she tells herself.

far less familiar to the girl is the device that buzzes. it comes alive, and it's looping message is curious. morgana thinks it's just someone speaking directly to her, and upon discovering it is not a person...

...the source of the noise, whatever this curious device is, must go. metal doesn't speak. morgana wastes no time in disposing of it.

by throwing it into the corridor.

you know, with her skeleton hand. there's a redhead with long braids lobbing her communicator down the corridor with such a disdain for the thing, you might think she was doing it for the vine.

hope it doesn't hit you in the face? ]

b; observation deck

[ the other point of offense was that hideous jumpsuit. morgana doesn't have spare clothing, though, so she raids the room she claims as her's, and can be spotted in the observation deck. the sheets off her bed have been pulled free of the mattress and wrapped around her like a cloak, covering most of her body. this is much more appropriate, she thinks - now, if she had a belt and some way to sew sleeves into it...

...but that's not why she's glowering out into space. her expression is hard, steely; she doesn't look particularly approachable. morgana is standing there, arms at her sides, one flesh hand exposed and one skeleton hand peeking out beneath the sheet settled over her shoulders. ]

...And I'm to believe there were two moons all this time? What sort of madman dreams up a world with two moons? I have to say, it's unique, at least.

[ she's calling it stupid. going quiet, the girl stands as still as a statue. she seems unaware anyone is at all present in the room with her...? ]

What are your ears for if not to listen? Decoration? I must say, my dear, I was hoping you might have an opinion on the doubling of that particular celestial body.

Comments

[inwaits]

You'd feel lost if you spent years guided by the voice of God, wouldn't you?

[ except it wasn't god's voice, but his worldly child, and it wasn't guidance so much as company. ]

Yay! Thankfully we have nothing to move. [ like, at all. ] It'll be like a sleepover every night. I can comb your hair and braid it nicely for you.

[hating]

[ at her declaration, morgana looks away. ]

...I won't be able to stop you, will I?

[ her tone isn't quite annoyed; her words may be biting, but the lilt is there that might suggest she sees no problem with such a thing. ]

Centuries of living as a maid means this is the only thing that brings you normalcy now. Are you really going to indulge in that, despite the situation?

[merging]

I don't know. [He sighs] It could all be a mistake. A lot of it seems random and then other parts... don't. I'd say it's too early to say anything yet, but- we haven't made any progress since I arrived here.

[oculusriffs]

[does ... does she actually think his head is pretty, or is that more like a fauxpliment? like the way she says "my dear."]

Yup. I'm basically a living oxymoronic sack of charm and questionable social graces — by your standards at least.

But, you seem cool enough. I'll even let you practice your insults until you find one that cuts me deep. It'll really help you get that freely conversing thing squared away.

[hating]

[ well... it's the head god gave him, so it's not bad? yeah. let's go with that. ]

My standards are quite acceptable by most people. Only literal animals might find them disagreeable. Are you on par with a crow, Dave?

[oculusriffs]

[holy shit she went straight for the jugular.]

Yeah, probably. They're a lot smarter than you'd think.

[hating]

[ morgana's that way :( ]

"Birdbrain" is a term for a reason, my dear. I'd be surprised if you didn't fall into the filth pit.

[ ...she means toilet, but you know. ] Do try to be careful.

[oculusriffs]

[filth pit.]

You mean a load gaper.

[hating]

A latrine.

[oculusriffs]

A shit shaft.

[hating]

Wash your mouth.

[oculusriffs]

Hell no.

[hating]

Your mouth is no different from the end of a donkey, my dear. Tell me, do you enjoy it? Or did you pick up your colorful vocabulary from somewhere? It comes so naturally to you that I am truly curious.

[splinten]

[Huh.]

Yeah, sure. The Batterwitch deserves Hell and then some. I'd love to be the one to give it to her, even.

You're kind of weirdly into it. Who pissed you off?

[SOMEONE clearly has.]

[possidetur]

( vanessa doesn't know whether to feel relieved or something else. she'd already known that this wasn't her time, that had been confirmed in one of her first conversations waking up here, but to find someone else so obviously out of time, and from a time so far gone-- )

1891. At least you're not trying to tell me that it's impossible.

( though amos had tried to tell her that what vanessa believed was impossible, not just the year she believed it to be )

[wingstosee]

[ thank goodness. she doesn't have to explain that much - although honestly, she'd rather not explain anything at this point. she'd rather duck out of this conversation altogether and hide in her room until she knows judging eyes won't watch her any longer. but that's not an option here, not when she's already made up her mind to be as unflinchingly, rebelliously nice as she can be. so she hears morgana out, and mulls over her question, and crosses her arms before she responds. ]

Mm... I don't know if I want to tell you? Haha. [ her words, polite as they are, don't sound defiant - but her actions speak much louder. ] I mean, whatever it is... it's bad enough to make me a devil, right? The worst girl in the world. Why would someone like you want to know about that?

[ the hand of a skeleton at morgana's cheek is- intimidating, a little. she seems so cruel from what few words she's spoken, so unbearably good and righteous that the bones seem out of place. who is this lady? what is she? it's a lot to think about, and it sort of makes her head hurt - trying to figure people out like this always does.

so she smiles (thin, and more than a little cautious, but not insincerely), and taps her elbow gently, and says: ]

If you really want to know, I'll tell you. I'll tell you all the sins I can remember. But I don't want to do that without making sure you want to hear it. I mean, there's no point to tempting the unwilling, right?

[hating]

Never you mind that.

[ you have to PROVE to morgana you can handle her backstory. ...or else she just feels sad for telling you. ]

The woman who brought you misfortune is a witch, you say. Haha... a familiar tale, no doubt.

[oculusriffs]

It's a little of all of those things, probably. I like the idea that I'm an ass's ass most, though.

[best. best friends???? are they best friends yet.]

[hating]

[ the impossible was so much more possible than people realized, morgana thinks, and to turn your back on that simple fact when you're out here in space seemed more than a little silly. downright foolish, in fact. ]

I see no reason to deny what is simply the truth. 1869 is as far as my memory will go, but 1099 was... my year, yes. I believe so.

[ in other words, this is hardly the first instance of being displaced in time for the girl. ] Tell me - President Grant. Is he still in office?

[ politics came up, briefly, in the mansion from time to time. morgana heard things, yes, but this is more of her feeling out for what sort of world vanessa might be from. if it's the same, she imagines she's much more lucky than she realizes. ]

[hating]

[ ...

...

a nickname? without even telling her or asking her for her name? morgana could easily have realized this if she'd, you know, looked at the communicator. that said, it's not really a priority for her, most probably unlike the vast majority of the people her age on the ship. he gives her a lot of information, and morgana can only focus on the nickname. ]

...My name isn't.. Pippithrowstocking.

[ she does not supply one, though. that would be easy! ]

[hating]

[ there's a short pause, and then: ]

The tyrant's name. Is it Batterwitch?

[hating]

And do you have any ideas on how to promote progress here?

[potentite]

[He gasps, covering his mouth with a wide-eyed stare.]

Stars and garters! You know of her, too!

[hating]

[ morgana's silent for a moment, her expression thoroughly unreadable. there's a vacancy in her golden eyes for a moment as she ruminates over venus' words. bad enough to make her a devil, she says, to morgana's face. she looks morgana in the eye and tells her this, and something inside of her radiates pity. pity for this poor girl, who thinks her life is so terrible, pity for herself, who can only think about a time centuries ago when...

without another thought, a grin cracks across morgana's face. it is devilish in it's own right. ]

I assure you, my dear, anything you have to throw at me in terms of a history with terrible things will not phase me. You haven't even the slightest idea of true pain and suffering, but I do pity you. I am curious. I do wonder what it is like to find yourself so thoroughly out of options that you'd become one of God's unfavored, eternally at war with yourself and Him. What is it like, being broken and unloved?

[ a short pause.

morgana wants to hear it from someone else's mouth, for once. it's almost healing. ]

I'll hear your tale out if you're brave enough to share it, my dear... Oh, yes, you have this witch's attention.

[hating]

I spoke briefly to the boy with dark glasses named Dirk.