sol-flaire:
@valorandgold
“Morgan for the last time, NO, I’m not touching it and, NO, I do not wish to look at it.”
Him and his damn bugs.
She liked Morgan… She really did, but just sometimes… Sometimes she wanted to strangle him.
“E-Er, no, that’s not what this is about. I sorta got the message last time when you almost ready to smash that beetle with a book.” Thankfully she hadn’t had the time to do so before he stowed the beetle away again, especially because that book had been one of his favorite volumes on tactics. Lesson learned there. He wondered if she would view ladybugs more favorably like Noire had, though? That might be something to try sometime.
“The thing that I want you to see this time has nothing to do with insects of any sort. What I actually wanted you to look at was this.” Morgan held out a little book, and if she took a glimpse, she would notice his handwriting in it. “You see, Severa, I’ve been trying my hand at poetry lately…er, and no, none of it’s overly flirtatious or anything like you might see from Inigo. I mean I guess there are a couple of romantic ones in there, but I digress. I’m not sure why I went to him for advice about my poems actually, come to think of it. But he suggested I take it to a lady if I really wanted to have the quality of my writing judged. I don’t think it ever occurred to him that this writing isn’t just about try to flatter and woo a girl.” Morgan shook his head.
“Still, long story short, what he said did make me think, and I figured if ever there’s a judge who wouldn’t hold back or try to spare my feelings it’s you, so I guess I’m asking you to take a look at a few and tell me what you think. Please? I’d prefer a second opinion on this, one that wouldn’t be heavily biased.” By that, he meant his mother, of course. She always had a pretty heavy bias when it came to judging any of his work that wasn’t related to tactics and strategy.
“Oh.”
He had taken up writing poetry? And had come to HER for an opinion on it? Especially after taking advice from that joke for a swordsman?
“Well... Just don’t get all pouty when I say what I think, okay?”
She stated as she took the book from him. Severa doubted it could be THAT bad overall. Still... She found herself pleasantly surprised when the first poem she opened to described the seasons changing. The second how fleeting life was.
On and on she read in the book, nodding here and there, low murmurs beneath her breath. He was surprisingly good. After a few more minutes, she cleared her throat, holding the book out to him.
“It’s not bad. Sometimes seems like you’re forcing things to rhyme. Don’t forget there’s other forms of poetry like haiku and the like. Still... It’s really good, Morgan. I think you’ve got a knack for it.”
Once the book was back in his hands, she turned away, crossing her arms.
“Might even be good enough to woo over a woman if you wanted to.”
