{un} feeling

Morgan "Morrigan" Madigan, at your service. Counsler at Madam Wallings’ Institute for Troubled Youth. Tranquil State || Serenity Inducement

[quinn--avery-blog]

“Both,” he replied simply, “well they’re felling pretty damn similar to us.” They both examined her, she was cold, but spiteful and calculating. She didn’t seem to have an emotional weak spot, and she was clever, hell, she figured out which of them was which, when the only other people who had been able to do that where their family. “Nice try, but no, I’m Quinn,” Nyx lied, an easy smirk gracing his lips, an exact copy of the one that his brother so often wore. He left his body relax slightly, but remain tense enough to spring at any moment. It was easy for him to shift into his brother, the only difference being their eyes. Quinn’s were sharp and calculating, whereas Nyx could never quite hide the frenzy that their eyes took on when he was in control. “We would love that, though are you sure its such a great idea? Letting the two of us practice?” Nyx questioned, licking his bottom lip, his eyes gleaming wickedly. Shut the fuck up, Nyx, don’t give her reason not to let us in, Quinn chastised. Like they could stop us, he replied. We don’t know how to bloody program it, genius.

[morganofwar]

“Mhm.” She made a note in the file, quietly taking in what he was saying. This was all telling, was all something she could use to help him later. “Right. Noted, and I’ll be sure not to make that mistake in the future.” It wasn’t a mistake; they were playing her, testing her. The first sign of weakness, and they’d likely strike. That, or they’d wait and see just how to exploit it. It was a game she was far too familiar with. Morrigan was rarely on the losing side of that particular game, though, and she didn’t plan ont hat changing now. She had experience, after all, and they were still relatively young. “It’s not up to me in the end. I have no control over who actually gets admitted to the danger room. All I can do is suggest it. And yes.” She paused to let her answer sink in. “For one, the Room is designed in such a way that even the smartest technomanchers I’ve seen couldn’t crack it. Not really. If you’re a threat, it can subdue you easily enough. More importantly, however, it will allow you a place to vent your aggression and be yourself without fear of consequence, something that could be beneficial to you. So, yes. I think it’s actually quite a good idea.”

[celiavoclain-blog]

“Whatever you say, Morrigan. It’s how I coped for sixteen years. I’ll be fine. Good. Because I’m done talking about it. My ghosts are my business. Literally in this case, I suppose.”

[morganofwar]

“Coping is not... We’ll move on. How have your classes been?”

[celiavoclain-blog]

“My best friend died and I saw it happen, alright? I could have stopped it but I didn’t. I killed her and she’s still here watching over me. Can we let this go? Now.”

[morganofwar]

“... You’ve talked to Phoebe then. I see. You realize bottling it up... We can drop it, Celia.”

[celiavoclain-blog]

“You wanna leave the kids in the hands of the likes of me and your brother? There’d be no mercy for them. Morrigan! Stop. I’m fine. Please. Just… let it go. I can’t. I won’t talk about it.”

[morganofwar]

“They would be fine; both of you are better than you give yourselves credit for. That’s not me being sentimental. You of all people know that’d be next to impossible. At least you corrected yourself. Letting it sit won’t help you, Celia. We both know that. If you won’t talk about, I cannot force you.”

[celiavoclain-blog]

“Cillian is a meddlesome little shit. It’s nothing. I’ll work through it like I always do. Morrigan, be careful. I don’t know what this school would do without you.”

[morganofwar]

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. The school would function fine without me; that doesn’t stop your deflection from being noticed however. What’s wrong?”

[morganofwar]

[celiavoclain-blog]

“Nothing’s wrong, not with me at least. Have you seen Raunaq lately? He seems to be acting a bit… odd.”

[morganofwar]

“Again, gonna have to call bullshit. If Cillian said otherwise, I trust his word over yours. I have, and I’m... looking into it. I have a slight suspicion but I not only don’t know, I’m not sure I can do anything about it.”

[celiavoclain-blog]

“…Who? Fucking Cillian. Everything is fine. I’m fine.”

[morganofwar]

“And I’m the President. Celia, you’re not my student, I don’t have to be soft, so stop bullshitting me. What’s wrong?”

[morganofwar]

“I was told I should come your way. Everything alright?”

[maumett-archived-blog]

                    Things like “ other people’s sadness ” 

                                           I   ᴅ ᴏ ɴ ’ ᴛ   ᴜ ̛ɴ̴ ̛ᴅ ͡ᴇ ҉ʀ ́s ̸ᴛ̛ ᴀ ɴ ͢ᴅ͟.

[morganofwar]

Favourite case?

That would assume I take favorites. I don’t. All my cases are treated with equal respect and favor.

[morganofwar]

Who was your first kiss with?

An old high school… friend, for lack of a better word. Her name was Julia, although nobody called her that…

[morganofwar]

Do you have any tattoos?

Currently, no. I’m unsure if I’ll get any, but it’s not necessarily off the table.

[morganofwar]

What is the biggest age difference between you and any of your partners?

Three years, they were older.

[morganofwar]

[morganofwar]

Writing Task 01: Memory

“So, Cara’s totally throwing a party with your brother tomorrow. You should totes come, Morgan!”

Morgan merely grinned and shook her head. Her book was long forgotten, a napkin shoved into it so she wouldn’t lose her place.

“You know I’m not big on that, Jules. That’s his shit; I’ll just enjoy some peace and quiet around the house for once.” She laughed at the face her friend pulled, catching the grape that was thrown her way. It was like this every time: Cillian would throw some shindig, Juliet would try to drag her out to it, and inevitably Morgan would either let herself be dragged along or else just stay home and enjoy trashy television. Always trashy TV, because who else was going to enjoy her horrible soap operas, her brother?

That was a disturbing thought.

“Looooser. Ugh, fine. Enjoy your Brave and Beautiful, or whatever.”

“First, it’s The Bold and The Beautiful, and second, I so will.” The two of them stared each other down before breaking out into giggles. As the bell that signaled the end of lunch rang, the two parted ways. English was the next course she had to take, and had a splitting headache not come upon her suddenly, she would have arrived on time. Instead, she took a detour to the bathroom, one hand absently rubbing her temple. She looked like shit. It was the first thought that ran through her mind as she splashed water on her face. The headache was slowly fading, no longer threatening to make her collapse in the middle of the hallway. As it left her, she found herself feeling – no, that was the wrong thought. She didn’t so much feel empty as just didn’t feel. The day passed in a blur, time both passing faster than should have been possible and inching by. People bumped into her, shot her odd looks, but they all went unnoticed. Instead, Morgan just moved from point to point, efficient, mechanical, undisturbed.

It wasn’t until she was sitting on her bed back at home that she snapped back into herself. Her eyes went wide, hands fumbling with her phone. The shaking in her fingers hardly registered as she tapped the screen; she had memorized her brother’s telephone number long ago, and now she was glad. The phone rang once – twice –

“Hey – “

“Oh thank god! Rossel, I – “

“ – This is Cillian, and I’m not around! Sorry to miss you, but I’ll get back to you ASAP!”

Voicemail. Of course she’d reached his voice mail… If he was planning something with their foster sister, it only made sense he’d be busy with party stuff. There was a beep that sounded, but she didn’t even pay attention. A noise somewhere between laughter and sobbing erupted from her, and she pulled her knees to her chest. Had this been the first time it had happened, she wouldn’t have thought much of it.

It wasn’t the first, but the fifth.

This week.

“What is wrong with me?” Her breathing started to accelerate as she felt terror encroach on her. Something wasn’t right, nothing was right, and even now, when she thought she was functional… She just couldn’t bring herself to care. Not really. It was conflicting with the emotions she was feeling, wasn’t feeling, everything was jumbled up inside of her. Everything hurt, but the pain didn’t matter, nothing mattered, but everything did and it was all so confusing.

Her brother found her like that not long after (she’d never turned off her phone, and he’d heard every recorded mixed sound). She was on her bed, curled up, tears streaming down her expressionless face. The hug he gave her was something she could feel, physically was there, and yet there was nothing behind it. In the back of her mind, she knew that her family would be worried if she didn’t come down to dinner, and yet there was nothing driving her to actually alleviate that. Instead of pushing her, though, he sat with her, the silence blanketing them. She should have felt comfortable, should have felt anything. Instead, she merely sat up, pushing away from Cillian. When she spoke, the words sounded distant, cold, detached: “There’s something… not entirely right.”

She hadn’t seen Cillian so broken since he’d managed to somewhat push back the nightmares, and she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

[morganofwar]

Session 01: Raunaq

[raunaqnaim-deactivated20200110]

Raunaq couldn’t help but laugh at that, rubbing at his jaw as he sank further in his chair. “First I’m compared to animals, now bugs,” He murmured. When he first arrived, there way of explaining his ability was by comparing him to an animal in heat. Never getting lost again did sound appealing, but he’d rather just be a human.

“You don’t have to talk to him,” He said quickly, flushing a bit. He didn’t want Dan to know he’s been freaking about their arrangement to other people. Maybe, he was making too big of a deal out of it, but he hated when people got too touchy with him while he was out of control. He’d hate to feel that way about Dan. 

“Nothing really,” He shrugged. “I’ve been…having nightmares–of that day. When I can’t sleep, I just sort of stay up and read or watching Netflix, until I’m so tired that I just pass out.” Ever since the incident, he had nightmares, but they weren’t getting any better. Honestly, he would say they were getting worse. 

[morganofwar]

A sheepish smile managed to break through on Morrigan’s face, only partially faked for the boy’s sake. “I wouldn’t take offense to it. It’s merely a comparison people can understand and wrap their heads around.” She paused, considering how to word her next sentence. “Not many people are aware they release pheromones for the most part, and the comparison is harder to make. Well, to successfully make.”

Well, that was a reaction. A single eyebrow arched up as she observed Raunaq’s behavior. “If you would rather me not talk with him, I can refrain from bringing you up next time we talk. He is my friend as well, though, so I can’t promise that I won’t talk to him at all.” It was a reasonable statement; the two of them were on good terms and it was inevitable that they’d chat. She’d just make sure not to bring up anything Raunaq didn’t want mentioned.

Nightmares. That was worthy of a subsection in Raunaq’s file, one that she’d need to add in later. It could be nothing, just a normal reaction as he processed everything, but it had been long enough that it was more likely something burrowing out of the woodwork. PTSD, perhaps. That would be unfortunate. “I see. Has that helped at all, or do you still find yourself having nightmares when you do that? There are options available to you, but I am not a fan of sending anyone to get medication unless they need it.” It wasn’t something she could do, and the process was a pain. If he needed sleeping aides, though, she’d write a note to Olivia with her professional opinion and hope that the nurse thought the same.