( 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

[hating]

Would it suit your taste more if I said I didn't bother to commit to memory? I have had no need for food in centuries, my dear.

[ morgana has been in the kitchen since her death, yes, so to speak. she went where michel went. if anything, his version of "cooking" is more fresh in her mind than anything. boiling everything seemed... sufficient enough...?

garlic is something she remembers, however. unwinding the cap, she inhales the scent. it's pungent, and seems to be... fairly okay. morgana wonders how long this all has been sitting here for several moments before replacing the top, and placing it on the countertop nearest giselle. ]

I'm not used to things like... this. Flavor-wise, I mean - a slice of bread suits me well enough, Giselle.

[inwaits]

Mm.. Well, that does make sense.

[ she can't argue with it, and she doesn't want to press the matter further. obviously, that's a tender spot — really, everything was, so she'd tread as light as she could for now. she hums a little as she wafts the garlic, pleased to see that it actually still retains a scent. it had clearly been here for a long time. spices, thankfully, take quite a while to go bad.

once the bread is nice and toasted, she sprinkles some garlic on it, then cuts it into pieces. ]

This is simple enough even for humble girls like us, Morgana. Try it. It's called 'garlic bread'. Not a very creative name, huh? I learned about it during.. [ the era of the pig iron manor. ] Well, near the end of our time in the mansion.

[hating]

Are you incapable of saying it?

[ when she worked for jacopo. morgana knows what era it was and she remembers every last detail. she reveled in them at the time, after all, thought she had condemned the wickedest man in the world to exactly what he deserved.

it is all so incredibly painful now, but she'll prob as giselle's wounds sooner than she will her own.

regardless of the emotions bubbling away inside of her, morgana's surface expression is bland and disinterested. she picks up the bread and partakes in it.

...how curious. the taste is almost overwhelming, the texture unique, the sensation of it in her mouth all new. is this how it is to eat when you are a newborn? she pauses.

...and then continues chewing without remark. apparently, it's satisfactory. ]

[inwaits]

I.. figured. Nothing gets past you. [ morgana's bitterness knew no end, of that she was sure. funny how what was a strength now had become a source of distaste for her. she'd wager that's why you don't steep yourself in negativity and vengeance, but, well, she would never say that to morgana. instead of dwelling on that, she chooses to move on. ] Judging by the crunches, it seems like you like it. And it was so easy to make.

[ easy enough for morgana to make herself. she didn't know if morgana would want her to help her, so teaching her how to do simple things like this seemed like a good course of action. ]

[hating]

I see no reason to complain. Food is a gift, and to waste even this would be an insult to God's kindness, my dear.

[ clearly this is just morgana wanting to avoid wasting food. if they make it, they eat it. that's that.

when was the last time she ate at all...? goodness. perhaps even before the tower... ]

[inwaits]

.. Please let me know if you want me to prepare you any more meals.

[ her draconic view of food's purpose, the role of everything in god's ultimate plan.. she sometimes wasn't sure what to say to it.

but she would support morgana.

she would do that for as long as she needed to. ]

Morgana, would you like to live together? There are several rooms that have multiple beds. It would be like old times.

[hating]

Can't bear to do without me, can you?

[ such words would be teasing from someone else. from morgana, they sound like a harsh observation; an insult. ]

...It would take up less space and allow for more room for others. I'm not opposed. [ also, she'd be less inclined to act like a fool if she knew she'd have giselle around at her beck and call. sharing a room allowed for that at all hours. ]

[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?

[inwaits]

You know me so well.

[ a redundant thing to say, of course. morgana knew almost all there was to know about giselle. ]

You're a witch, aren't you? You should allow me the indulgence! It's well within your job description.

[hating]

...Such a title no longer belongs to one such as me. I am merely as you are: a spirit wandering into my next life.

[ but, notably, morgana will not call herself a girl. she is no "girl" but a "spirit"... ]

Although I suppose if it is so thoroughly beat into you at this point, I can... act the part for your comfort. Don't forget to look into a mirror, my dear Giselle.

[ :) ]

[inwaits]

I won't. Thank you for humoring me.

[ so to speak. ]

I haven't shared a room with someone since my sister and I were children. It was always so cramped, but it kept things lively. I think we'll enjoy it.

[hating]

So long as you stay in your bed, I see no reason to think of it as "cramped" or "lively".

[inwaits]

What if I stay in your bed?

[ sleepovers!! ]

[hating]

I would remove you myself, take you into the hallways, and lock you out.

[ :/ ]

[inwaits]

Hey, you can't lock me out of my own room! Could you even lift me?

[ you don't even weigh as much as one of her boobs morgana ]

[hating]

Who said anything about lifting? You have plenty of hair to drag you by, my dear.

[inwaits]

[ a pout.

and then she reaches forth, wraps her hand firmly around the tip of one of her braids, and yanks. just one time, for good measure. ]

[hating]

[ her head tugs a bit with the movement. her golden gaze hardens, just a touch. ]

...

[ ... morgana blinks, looking from giselle's hand to her face. ]

If your job was to prove you're no better than a child bully, you have certainly accomplished it.

[inwaits]

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

[ i.e. don't touch her hair bitch!! ]

I know all the struggles of sharing a room with another girl — and all the tactics for winning dominion over it. I dare you to try and pull my hair!