[well, well, well. how the turntables... she's not sure if it's malak or julian's words that causes it, but morga snorts as she moves to pick everything back up. it seems like only yesterday their roles were reversed with her leading the trek through unknown woods. now julian is the one in charge and... she's strangely alright with that. she wordlessly calls jæger down from the branches by holding her arm up, and she nods towards the trail as the big lug scoots up to her shoulder. for something so big, it's amazing how small he can make himself look up there.]
Lead on. If we're lucky, someone will behave himself this time around.
[the sound jæger makes can only be described as a shocked peep, the feathers around his head flaring up for a fraction of a second. it doesn't last, though. they smooth back down with a shudder, and he immediately gives malak a look as he settles down into the fur of morga's cloak.
it's a good thing too, because it gives morga time to think about the rest of what he'd said. and... huh. hearing it like that? before, it'd be bait. actually it still is, but to hell with it. it's been months for her, and far too long for julian. if anythingit's something to talk and gently tease him about, just to see how much of the old julian is left.]
So, if you don't think of me being in grave danger, how do you think about me? Indulge an old woman's curiosity.
( in what is probably the most uncharacteristically unjulian moment yet, for awhile, he's utterly silent in spite of the prompt. it'd be the perfect opportunity for him to say all kinds of incorrigible or downright salacious crap normally, wouldn't it? and it isn't because he's focused on getting back in one piece or anything like that. catch a glimpse of his face and it's clear he's thinking about it, the storm of his thoughts on his sleeve with the rest of his feelings, as ever. the feathers and fluff don't hide anything any better, really. to be fair, it does take some concentration, leading the way back through the trashed underbrush to his little den. morga may not have noticed it as much before, but he's terribly ungainly when he walks. it's like his mind and his body are operating on two completely different levels. his human mind tells him to place one foot in front of the other, but his anatomy isn't really built to do it in any meaningful way. what he seems more inclined to physically do is hop.
which, considering how enormous he is, is. you know. a little silly. and he has no idea, because up until recently he really didn't move much at all. just sat there miserably at a table, drinking himself to death. or trying to, but it's like no matter what he did, he just couldn't die, and— )
Mmm. Come now, you're not old.
( ah. there he is. they're nearly halfway there by the time he pipes up, glancing back over his shoulder and then straight ahead again to watch where he's going. his voice is just a little bit faraway, the way it'd sometimes get when he was deep into a particularly personal story. huddled up beside the fire, telling her not about high seas adventure and harebrained schemes he pulled off once upon a moon, but about his life. about growing up in nevivon, about his precious little sister, about studying in prakra. never anything too expressly detailed, but fond memories, touching moments. that sort of thing. this is like that. )
I thought about you all the time. When I could remember... when I could think clearly at all... you came to mind often. When I think about you, I remember the last time I saw you. At the Masquerade, under the colored lights of that room you pulled me into. You were by far the least done-up person at that entire gig, and yet I...
( his voice drops a beat lower, and gets even more gravelly-sounding for it. )
I hadn't ever seen someone look so striking before. I kept that image in my mind for as long as I could. Since I knew I was never going to see it again.
[she opens her mouth to retort that she is in fact old, but... then his tone shifts. the tight grip on her spear eases, and even jæger seems to pick up on the change in his voice. it's how she can tell he's completely and utterly telling the truth, and for a moment morga stills. really, it's easy to disguise it as simply taking an extra moment to step over part of a fallen log, but since when did she ever need to slow her pace for something as mundane as that? she does it to listen to every word that falls from julian's lips, and her own press together in a tight, pained line simply because he isn't looking back to see it.
he's so godsdamned candid about it... almost enough to make her gut lurch, and morga knows she's standing at the precipice with only one way off; foward. whether or not she's bold enough to do it, though... only time has the answer to that. so, instead of thinking about the long fall before her, she busies herself with watching him move. underneath every little hop and duck under overhanging branches, she can still see what makes him him. it's damn near enough to turn the tight-lipped grimace into a hidden, genuine smile.]
You...
[her thoughts go back to that night. how she'd been moments from doing something foolish on more than one occasion. how julian seemed to blend in with the crowd as easily as a snake might hide on the forest floor, and draw attention to himself at the same time. he was in his element. her guide to that wild, colorful world that was oddly enchanting despite how uneasy it left her. the magic used in some of the rooms had been so thick she could nearly taste it (nevermind some of the smells from certain rooms of note), and that room in particular had been the least offensive to her senses.]
Now I'm glad I didn't take what they were trying to push on me. Did... it help?
[perhaps a foolish question, but it's... really the only thing she can think of to say besides something that'd embarrass herself. maybe even the both of them.]
( now, that he says cheerfully enough, in that whimsically ironic way he says a lot of things. haha! nope, it was awful! he's kidding a little bit, but also really not at the same time. in some ways he'd rather not explain, just laugh it off and move on. but if there's one thing he can't help regaling people with, it's his suffering. and why not? there's so much of it, and he's so good at talking about it. )
It was helpful at first, I guess. It gave me something to fight for. I knew nothing would be as simple as making a deal and sitting back to let it play out, and he did always love to torment me by planting the idea in the back of my mind that you weren't really as safe as we'd agreed on, so... when it felt hopeless, I'd think of you and keep going. But eventually that just wasn't enough. When I couldn't fight anymore, it was just... hell. Sometimes I think I... wanted to forget all of you. So I wouldn't have to remember what I lost. Or how much I let you down.
[not let her down. forget her. the list goes on and on, and no morga isn't sure if she has the drive to go through every little reason in one sitting. the list of actual people is much shorter, but each one is memorable in their own right. whether it be her son, former tribemates, enemies... more, even. where did julian sit? somewhere in the more category, though morga is reluctant to say it out loud. so, she won't. she doesn't. not right now. maybe later, maybe never.]
It's... almost mutual, you know. I tried to forget you once or twice, but I've got a few bad habits that made it impossible to do so. Habits that I'd be reluctant to let go of.
[like sinking her claws and teeth into her past - good and bad - and refusing to let go. wanting to protect what she had, rather than let those things fend for themselves like she ought to. it's one of her strengths, but also her biggest weakness.]
...I also hope you understand that you didn't let me down. Disappoint me? Yes, but... Everyone does that from time to time. But if I thought you were going to let me down, I would've sent you away the first time you traveled south of Vesuvia's borders. I saw potential in you, and I was glad to see that I wasn't wrong.
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no subject
Lead on. If we're lucky, someone will behave himself this time around.
[the sound jæger makes can only be described as a shocked peep, the feathers around his head flaring up for a fraction of a second. it doesn't last, though. they smooth back down with a shudder, and he immediately gives malak a look as he settles down into the fur of morga's cloak.
it's a good thing too, because it gives morga time to think about the rest of what he'd said. and... huh. hearing it like that? before, it'd be bait. actually it still is, but to hell with it. it's been months for her, and far too long for julian. if anythingit's something to talk and gently tease him about, just to see how much of the old julian is left.]
So, if you don't think of me being in grave danger, how do you think about me? Indulge an old woman's curiosity.
no subject
which, considering how enormous he is, is. you know. a little silly. and he has no idea, because up until recently he really didn't move much at all. just sat there miserably at a table, drinking himself to death. or trying to, but it's like no matter what he did, he just couldn't die, and— )
Mmm. Come now, you're not old.
( ah. there he is. they're nearly halfway there by the time he pipes up, glancing back over his shoulder and then straight ahead again to watch where he's going. his voice is just a little bit faraway, the way it'd sometimes get when he was deep into a particularly personal story. huddled up beside the fire, telling her not about high seas adventure and harebrained schemes he pulled off once upon a moon, but about his life. about growing up in nevivon, about his precious little sister, about studying in prakra. never anything too expressly detailed, but fond memories, touching moments. that sort of thing. this is like that. )
I thought about you all the time. When I could remember... when I could think clearly at all... you came to mind often. When I think about you, I remember the last time I saw you. At the Masquerade, under the colored lights of that room you pulled me into. You were by far the least done-up person at that entire gig, and yet I...
( his voice drops a beat lower, and gets even more gravelly-sounding for it. )
I hadn't ever seen someone look so striking before. I kept that image in my mind for as long as I could. Since I knew I was never going to see it again.
no subject
he's so godsdamned candid about it... almost enough to make her gut lurch, and morga knows she's standing at the precipice with only one way off; foward. whether or not she's bold enough to do it, though... only time has the answer to that. so, instead of thinking about the long fall before her, she busies herself with watching him move. underneath every little hop and duck under overhanging branches, she can still see what makes him him. it's damn near enough to turn the tight-lipped grimace into a hidden, genuine smile.]
You...
[her thoughts go back to that night. how she'd been moments from doing something foolish on more than one occasion. how julian seemed to blend in with the crowd as easily as a snake might hide on the forest floor, and draw attention to himself at the same time. he was in his element. her guide to that wild, colorful world that was oddly enchanting despite how uneasy it left her. the magic used in some of the rooms had been so thick she could nearly taste it (nevermind some of the smells from certain rooms of note), and that room in particular had been the least offensive to her senses.]
Now I'm glad I didn't take what they were trying to push on me. Did... it help?
[perhaps a foolish question, but it's... really the only thing she can think of to say besides something that'd embarrass herself. maybe even the both of them.]
no subject
( now, that he says cheerfully enough, in that whimsically ironic way he says a lot of things. haha! nope, it was awful! he's kidding a little bit, but also really not at the same time. in some ways he'd rather not explain, just laugh it off and move on. but if there's one thing he can't help regaling people with, it's his suffering. and why not? there's so much of it, and he's so good at talking about it. )
It was helpful at first, I guess. It gave me something to fight for. I knew nothing would be as simple as making a deal and sitting back to let it play out, and he did always love to torment me by planting the idea in the back of my mind that you weren't really as safe as we'd agreed on, so... when it felt hopeless, I'd think of you and keep going. But eventually that just wasn't enough. When I couldn't fight anymore, it was just... hell. Sometimes I think I... wanted to forget all of you. So I wouldn't have to remember what I lost. Or how much I let you down.
no subject
[not let her down. forget her. the list goes on and on, and no morga isn't sure if she has the drive to go through every little reason in one sitting. the list of actual people is much shorter, but each one is memorable in their own right. whether it be her son, former tribemates, enemies... more, even. where did julian sit? somewhere in the more category, though morga is reluctant to say it out loud. so, she won't. she doesn't. not right now. maybe later, maybe never.]
It's... almost mutual, you know. I tried to forget you once or twice, but I've got a few bad habits that made it impossible to do so. Habits that I'd be reluctant to let go of.
[like sinking her claws and teeth into her past - good and bad - and refusing to let go. wanting to protect what she had, rather than let those things fend for themselves like she ought to. it's one of her strengths, but also her biggest weakness.]
...I also hope you understand that you didn't let me down. Disappoint me? Yes, but... Everyone does that from time to time. But if I thought you were going to let me down, I would've sent you away the first time you traveled south of Vesuvia's borders. I saw potential in you, and I was glad to see that I wasn't wrong.