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@morgancwinchester-blog
The mansion was in pristine condition.
Except the basement.
Which was a massacre scene.
On one end stood Morgan, toying lazily with a blade in his hand, emerald gems decorating the handle. On the other end sat a demon, black eyes completely terrified as she struggled against the bindings, gazing at the devils trap.
Make sure you try to conjure the wind and ease my mind.
OOC: Howdy. I apologize to everyone following Morgan and Sam (sam-winchester) that I haven't been here much. Loads of stuff happening OOC, and tumblr just couldn't fit in my headspace.
For those unaware, the RPer for Elspeth (Sam's ex and Morgan's mother) has decided to leave tumblr for her own reasons. I will miss her very much and she has been a major player in my RPs. I thank her so so much for being a massive part of my RP experience, IC and OOC.
She has requested that anyone who was RPing with Elspeth, to have their own arc of how Elspeth leaves/dies/disappears, etc. For Morgan and Sam, I had decided that - for them at least - Elspeth disappears. I just don't want Elspeth to die, tbqh.
So, here's Morgan's version.
---
Even when Elspeth was in her comatose state, Morgan still continued his duties. Sure, they were meant to be punishment. But, he had come to love spending time down in the sub-basement, immersed in the old books of lore and magic that were down there. Today he trudged through the house with Orthrus by his side and a backpack on his shoulder, full of stuff he had been meaning to take to Uncle Dean's after he had done his chores at his mother's house.
As Morgan walked, he found it eerily quiet in the house. The mansion wasn't a boisterous kind of place, but it usually had the odd quiet conversation in the background, or the soft notes of music playing, or the faint smell of something hot and delicious from the kitchen, or - if Elspeth was in a good mood - the gentle humming as she went about the mansion.
Almost all the lights were off. No maid or butler greeted Morgan at the door when he had walked in. No hellhound bounding towards him to see its brother. Morgan put down his bag and looked around through the rooms downstairs, opening the double doors and closing them after a quick look.
The house was too silent.
Morgan's heart pounded in his ears as his stomach dropped. He raced upstairs, Orthrus staying downstairs and keeping an eye out as he sensed something was wrong.
"Mum?" Morgan opened Elspeth's bedroom door. The bed was made. The sheets pristine and tucked in. The curtains drawn halfway open and letting the weak sun shine through. On her bedside table were a vase of roses that looked fresh and Morgan walked over to them and touched a petal. Soft and red.
He ran out her room, slamming open all the doors through the rest of the top floor, all the rooms immaculate. As if no-one had lived there. Like a doll's house that no-one touched.
"Mum!" He called out again, panic thick in his voice. He raced down back down the stairs and the double doors to the garden flew open and Orthrus bounded after him, at his heel when Morgan came to a halt.
Gregory was still there. He could still hear the sprites amongst the roses. The mermaid was surely still under the water, watching his every move. Morgan picked up pace again and sprinted to where his chicken coop used to stand, moving around it, and coming to another stop where the circle of stones were.
They were dark. Unmoving. The magic looked like it was drained out of it.
Morgan swore under his breath and he wiped away the tears that threatened to spill. It was all too clear what had happened, and yet, his brain refused to acknowledge it.
It was some time later when Morgan numbly walked back into the mansion. He sat on his mother's too neat bed and he silently cried.
She was gone.
And he was alone.
And
For the first time in his life, Morgan felt cold.
“Then I guess we’re both lucky,” he nodded, sitting down. He could feel her emotions going haywire but decided to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to scare the girl. “What do you normally hallucinate, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Creatures with black eyes mainly.” She said looking at the floor. “They killed my parents.” Mikah whispered.
He clenched his jaw. "... I see." Demons. Damn. "Do you see black eyes when you look at me?" He asked curiously.
brb picking up moose from work
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mikah,” he bit his lip, “when did you start having hallucinations?”
“Ever since I was put in this wonderful hellhole.”
“I’ve seen hellholes,” he looked around, “this isn’t a hellhole by far. But, I sympathize. I have hallucinations sometimes too. I know you’re real because you haven’t tried to gut me with a butterknife yet.”
“I’m not allowed to have butter knifes, let alone any knifes at all.” She crosses her arms and bits her lip a bit.
"Then I guess we're both lucky," he nodded, sitting down. He could feel her emotions going haywire but decided to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to scare the girl. "What do you normally hallucinate, if you don't mind me asking?"
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mikah,” he bit his lip, “when did you start having hallucinations?”
“Ever since I was put in this wonderful hellhole.”
"I've seen hellholes," he looked around, "this isn't a hellhole by far. But, I sympathize. I have hallucinations sometimes too. I know you're real because you haven't tried to gut me with a butterknife yet."
He raises an eyebrow at the poke but nods, giving her a small smile.
“My name’s Morgan. Why would you think I’m a hallucination? I would think if you were hallucinating, you would imagine someone more… interesting,” he chuckled softly.
“Good to meet you Morgan. I think everyone I see is a hallucination…”
"It's nice to meet you too, Mikah," he bit his lip, "when did you start having hallucinations?"
“… I’ve been called worse. No, not a hallucination. Who are you?”
She pokes his shoulder and steps back a bit. “Alright, so your telling the truth. That’s good. I’m Mikah, who are you?”
He raises an eyebrow at the poke but nods, giving her a small smile.
"My name's Morgan. Why would you think I'm a hallucination? I would think if you were hallucinating, you would imagine someone more... interesting," he chuckled softly.
morgancwinchester started following you
“Another…hallucination…”
"... I've been called worse. No, not a hallucination. Who are you?"
"Welp, my mother is comatose. My dad is pulling graveyard shifts upstairs. Orthrus has destroyed my room again. And I'm nesting."
"On the upside, I now have a red Mustang that I have acquired. It complements the white Impala nicely."
The maid is nervous as she approaches Morgan. "Sir?" she says. "There's something you should see in the garden. It's Ms. Harrow. She--well--you should go look, sir, for yourself." She does a quick curtsy and leaves.
Morgan raises an eyebrow but nods slowly, his heart thrumming wildly in his chest at her worried tone but he walks calmly to the garden.
Once he's out of sight of the house, he sprints towards the roses, knowing that would be the first place his mother would be, and he comes to a halt which almost throws him off balance.
"...Oh no..." He whimpers, not taking another step closer as the ice over the thorns and roses seems to frost colder at the sign of another person nearing Elspeth.
Morgan draws in a shaky breath and bites his lip. What was he meant to do?
This would heal her. It had to. She would wake up and.. and she'd be okay... because he could help her... or dad... Dad would know what to do..
His mind went a million miles an hour as he tried to figure out the best plan, but then he stopped as a cold wind brushed through the roses. It wasn't a familiar cold, like the one he or his mother could produce, but it wasn't there to intimidate.
Rather, reassure him.
He had no idea where it came from, but it disappeared and as it did, Morgan knew not to touch or awaken her.
He swallowed, putting his hand to the ground and sending a trickle of magic, a deep purple rose blooming and entwining across the flowers that were already there. Morgan looked out to the garden, looking for any sign of what had tried to comfort him earlier.
"... Please take care of her," he murmured, standing up and looking back to his mothers encased body, then disappearing in a cold breeze, leaving behind a golden brown feather.
((Best text of the night..))
((.... Story of my life!))
Send me a sign...
Aries: The most adrenaline-pumping thing I've ever done--whether thrilling or terrifying!
Taurus: The part of my life I'm most satisfied with at the moment.
Gemini: Something I want to learn more about.
Cancer: Someone I'm close to and why.
Leo: My most ambitious dream.
Virgo: One moral belief I will always stand by.
Libra: A habit I have/something I always do.
Scorpio: The most difficult thing I've ever done.
Sagittarius: My guilty pleasure.
Capricorn: The thing I'm most proud of (a possession or an achievement).
Aquarius: One "big thing" I've always wondered about life, the universe, and everything.
Pisces: Things I look for in a friend/partner.
*yells after him* Just be home in time for dinner! *smiles and mutters to herself* I spoil that boy...
Yes mum! *practically sprints down the stairs to the garden*
