&&. rcgnorfcll
still recovering from an emotional conversation with magnus the night before, ragnor couldn’t help but feel a wave of distress wash over him when he heard a familiar voice. catarina loss, one of his oldest friends, and the one woman who he knew would have a bone to pick with him. he’d hoped to have a bit more time to prepare before they came face to face but life was fickle that way ; destroying even the best laid of plans.
it was with reluctance that he rose from the arm chair he’d settled in, unglamoured and exposed as he stepped into her path. he quickly held up his hands { just in case her first instinct was to strike him } as he stepped forward, thankful that the green palor of his skin could hide the sick feeling that had washed over him upon seeing her face. it was something akin to guilt, a feeling that ragnor was not familiar or comfortable with.
“catarina, my darling,” he greeted, “it’s been a long time. do forgive me for not writing… it seemed impertinent to keep in touch when one had faked their own death.” he frowned. “an oversight on my part, i’ve come to realize…” and though his words were disparaging there was a sincerity to them - while his actions had been selfish, they’d never been mal-intended.
It could have been an impostor, of course, but no - this was Ragnor Fell speaking, moving, looking green as lettuce. She simply knew. A bond that grew over centuries was ought to be sensed by the soul and who she believed was brutally murdered, who she believed for dead was now back and claiming he had faked it? Ever since Catarina found out about his ‘death’, the warlock buried herself in work and had cut contacts with Magnus to the minimum - in order to avoid and never think about it, to continue helping others suffer through their pain with ease while she was broken on the inside. Her magic could not heal time, could not erase memories and all her mind screamed was ‘Ragnor is dead.’.
But here was the eight hundred years old warlock, apologizing for something that had played with her feelings and made her avoid people she loved. Catarina Loss was kind, patient, accepting and warmhearted - but oh did she not like actions of such cruel caliber.
“An oversight?” she clicked her tongue, eyes only telling the green warlock in front of her how unamused she was. Death was a fragile topic for her - she worked at a hospital trying to save people on a daily basis. And definitely angry. “You do realize I am not quite fond of jokes, correct?” Dark skin turned blue, brunette hair snow-white; swift steps cutting the distance between the two short not for a hug, but for a hiss.
“How dare you MESS with us like that?” Her cheeks were in a color that was a mixture between pink and blue. Catarina’s eyes pinned on Ragnor’s own, fist clenched nose wrinkled. “How DARE you?!”
