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biting words like a wolf howling
[ She should have expected it sooner or later, but she didn't. She sat hopeful like she has done many times before. She deluded herself into thinking perhaps this time it will not end the same.
Yet it always does, no matter what it always ends the same.
Opening the journal isn't hard, the movement is too automatic for her liking, too easy, but she does it regardless staring at the page with an expression easily described as blank. That is how she feels isn't it? Blank? Numb? She envies Morgana Pendragon, the high priestess hell bent on reclaiming her throne, she envies her for the stone she put in place of her heart.
(and she loathes her brother, she loathes her sweet knight, she loathes Paradisa itself for taking the stone away ─ for returning to her her heart)
Morgana Pendragon would not care, Morgana Pendragon would not even bother with this. She would laugh at her and call her weak ─ ]
For those who know Damon Salvatore and Katherine Pierce; they have been released from the castle's care and return to their world, and whatever awaits for them there.
[ Her voice is stone, she thinks proudly, it is cold and emotionless. As if she had done this before, as if she had not lost anything at all. She is pleased and leaves it at that, standing in the empty hall with the ghost of a smile upon her lips. ]
Yet it always does, no matter what it always ends the same.
Opening the journal isn't hard, the movement is too automatic for her liking, too easy, but she does it regardless staring at the page with an expression easily described as blank. That is how she feels isn't it? Blank? Numb? She envies Morgana Pendragon, the high priestess hell bent on reclaiming her throne, she envies her for the stone she put in place of her heart.
(and she loathes her brother, she loathes her sweet knight, she loathes Paradisa itself for taking the stone away ─ for returning to her her heart)
Morgana Pendragon would not care, Morgana Pendragon would not even bother with this. She would laugh at her and call her weak ─ ]
For those who know Damon Salvatore and Katherine Pierce; they have been released from the castle's care and return to their world, and whatever awaits for them there.
[ Her voice is stone, she thinks proudly, it is cold and emotionless. As if she had done this before, as if she had not lost anything at all. She is pleased and leaves it at that, standing in the empty hall with the ghost of a smile upon her lips. ]
Morgana
She nearly loses her breath for a moment to let a little dry sob escape, perhaps her attempt to keep her eyes dry nearly overwhelming her. But she succeeds, finally responding, though her voice is nowhere near as calm or cool as Morgana's. ]
Nothing but...misery, I'm pretty sure.
[ There, she hasn't said that before. It feels better to just say the truth, it does. Marginally. ]
Thank you for telling m— us.
Lana
Lana. Oh, she had forgotten Lana.
It is odd, they have never truly been close. Always skirting around each other with suspicious glances, yet also circling the same men. This woman has shared her grief not once, but three times. Shouldn't they be closer? Shouldn't she count her as friend?
Whatever stability she had vanishes with a single noise, a sob or choke it is hard to tell, and exposes the void beneath her feet.
(weak, weak, weak) ]
You are ─
[ It is a sob, more clear than whatever sound left her before. It is clear and obvious and very much there.
She longs for the stone she once held in her chest, she hates the heart returned to her. ]
Morgana
They both do.
But she still doesn't know what to say, or how to convey these feelings in a non-violent manner. She isn't angry that Morgana didn't include her, because they really never have been 'friends', despite their continued association through others. It isn't just the infatuations, but Arthur Pendragon as well, and perhaps that one man is the reason the two women have remained on opposite corners of the same room for years now.
He's gone, though. It seems they're all just going, going, gone. ]
I'm sorry.
Lana
But she cannot stop it, the flood gate have been opened and there is no stopping them now. No matter how hard she scrambles to close them again. How weak she must sound. How pathetic. Crying over a thing she cannot change, over a loss that she is likely to feel again and again and again. ]
As am I.
[ The words are forced, strained, pain as obvious behind them as the sky is dark. ]
As am I.
[ For if anyone knows, if anyone understands this feeling it is Lana. She who has shared this grief, she who will likely share it again. What fools they are, what fools they will continue to be if history is anything to go by. ]
Morgana
Just another day in Paradisa, huh? [Rinse, lather, repeat. Always the same]
Crowley
Yes. [ There is a quiver in her voice, the ground beneath her feet crumbling away. ] Just another day in Paradisa.
Morgana
One day, you and me, we'll find a way to get back at it.
Crowley
When you are free you must come drink wine with me. [ A beat. ] We shall seek a place no one will find us and drink until the sun disappears behind the horizon and the moon takes it's place.
Morgana
Crowley
action!
The notice was both warning that she was unhappy and reassurance she was still present. Katherine's name makes his chest tighten and he hates how relieved he feels that it was her instead of Morgana. That it was anyone instead of Morgana.
It worries him sometimes (every night when he pulls her close and fans his hand over her back until she sleeps) how easily she has settled into his life.
He sets out to find her, barefoot and wearing only breeches (he stopped trying to fight his loss long ago). ]
It's either stupidly late or ungodly early to be wandering the halls, you know.
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Was she gone longer than she thought? How long had she been standing out here? How long has it been since she left Anne's company to return to Gwaine's warmth, only to find herself staring at Damon's door? ]
I know.
[ The journal slips from her grip and hits to floor, forgotten in her mind as she crosses the last few steps to him and rests her head on his chest idly listening to the sound of his heartbeat. ]
I could not sleep and then I was summoned, I had no intention to be gone for long.
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I'm summoning you now. Come on. Let's get back to bed.
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You're a blanket too.
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A blanket too. [ Oh Gwaine. ]
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And yet it is not enough to cover the smells of taverns from you.
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[ Because Crowley plies him with alcohol. ]
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Come on then. One blanket for the fair lady.
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You all right?
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