Beck eyed the gaggle of people gathered around her fire as she sipped a cup of cider from the steaming cauldron by the flames. Men, women, even a few children had taken a break from running wild and pickpocketing half the town to sit and listen to her tale. When their whisperings died down a bit, she carried on her story.
“So there I sat, curled in the highest branches of the tree, listening as it drew closer and closer. All I could see was a shadow, bigger than a cart horse, with eyes like silver plates and steaming breath. And when it stepped into the clearing I saw it clearly: it was a bear as white as fresh snow, wearing a cloak of moss and a mask made of a boar’s skull tied over its face. At first I thought it was just a cruel jest, thrust onto the beast by local farmers or huntsmen, but it stood on its two hind legs as it approached the stone circle, and I saw in its jaws a young soldier. The beast threw the man down on the alter, and rent his armor with only a swipe of its paw as the poor fellow screamed and writhed. Until finally the bear had him stripped to nothing. It took the man’s sword in its jaws and thrust it straight through his chest, and I could hear the most awful licking and crunching sound as it began to rip him apart and feast on him with his paws, as if he were a man at a table.” She watched as even the most skeptical of Saxons exchanged worried glances. Christians were still superstitious, and feared malevolence and demons more than anything else.
The only person who appeared unbothered by her tale of curses and carnage, was a stern looking warrior, peering across the fire, cloaked by smoke and cloth. As her story drew to a close and the crowd thinned, the stranger stayed.
“You’ve heard the last tale I had to tell.” She dipped into the warm cider again, and offered the woman a steaming cup made of carved bone. “But you’re welcome to join me for a drink, friend. Maybe you’ve got a story of your own to share?”
THE DAYS grew shorter and the night much longer as winter settled its icy grasp upon Ravensthorpe and the rest of England. The sheets of snow were nothing compared to the icy storms of Norway and therefore the mighty Norsemen that littered the country were unaffected, however it was a time to begin the winter activities that came with such weather.
Petra and Wallace had already geared up and set out on a week-long expedition out into the snowy wilderness in hopes of following some tracks the wolves had left in the North woods. The Jomsviking were busy fortifying the longships and heating their quarters. Even Hytham, holed away in his headquarters, had taken to putting away his straw training dummies.
Randvi… stayed inside. Rather mournfully. The absence of Sigurd and even Ceowulf’s son wore on her in the comfortable but still alliance room. Only occasionally did Eivor’s—or rather, the children’s—pet wolf wander in, always seeking a good scratching from the advisor who was ready to oblige.
It came as a surprise when Eivor came trudging through the doorway instead, the brown-haired woman looking up from the map on the table.
“Back again from your adventure so soon?” Randvi inquired with a sly smile. “I thought it would take you until the next century, at the very least.”
Eivor’s company wasn’t unwelcome—the opposite, in fact. Her tales of her victories were perhaps the closest thing the brown-haired woman would get to a similar glory. Eivor’s honour came from gritty battles and hard-won victory. Randvi’s came from… mapping. Politics. Something she had never asked for.
@echoedhope / morrigan shepard
❝ it wasn’t always like this. ❞
“Maybe not as bad as this,” Garrus admitted, “but we’ve always been wading in shit.” Discerning blue eyes met hers, as if he could read what was on her mind just by staring at her. “Something on your mind?”
@echoedhope said: “ death seems to follow me. ” - Jaal/Morrigan
MISC QUOTES MEME | ACCEPTING
Jaal shook his head. It truly SADDENED him to know that she thought this way. He didn’t know much about what had happened in the Milky Way, except from what he had heard from different people, but he doubted only one person could bring this much death. Maybe she was just not lucky, like the Angaras had never been lucky either.
“There was death everywhere in Heleus long before you arrived.” He assured. “None of this is your fault. I am glad you’re fighting at our side, but please, don’t pressure yourself more than you should.”
MESSAGE: ☾ - wrestle/pin my muse to the ground - Mori
GARRUS hit the mats with a grunt as Mori pinned him to the ground , her knee in his gut. It always amazed him just how strong she was ; she didn’t look it when standing next to him , just barely reaching the bottom of his chest.
AND damn did she look hot right now.
“ ALRIGHT , I give , ” he groaned , tapping her thigh ( his talons lingering for just a moment ). Garrus stood up , cracking his neck. “ I think we’ve wounded my pride enough for the day. ” He’d already won one round anyway ; sparring matches with Mori tended to go on for a long time.
SHARP eyes flick back to her , gaze obviously lingering. “ Unless ... you wanted to hold a tiebreaker? ”
This mortal form could be a frightful thing, and yet endlessly fascinating. As a unicorn, she felt little of the world’s affects, age passing over her like droplets down her back. Regret, love, worry, hatred, none touched her, until that fateful journey.
Knowing eyes stared at the cut on her hand, dark red pooled against snowy white. She had caught it on a bramble and though it stung at first, the pain passed, and now she was left with life pumping into her palm.
Her eyes raised to the approaching woman. “I am fine,” she replied, voice calm. Aside from her wound, she looked as if she was only taking a rest.
AFTER crash landing on some tropical planet , they all held out hope that Morrigan could be alive ; that she had defeated the Reapers. It took time for them to repair the Normandy , and for EDI and Tali to connect back to an information server. Whatever Morrigan had done had knocked out all communications. The first news they received was that the Reapers had retreated -- some were even helping in the rebuilding effort. It didn't make sense , but then again , none of them fully understood what the Crucible was meant to do. Maybe it somehow took control of the Reapers , commanding them to create rather than destroy. It was better than them destroying the galaxy , Garrus supposed , but he'd feel a lot better if they were just dead.
SO the Reapers were dealt with -- but Morrigan had not reappeared. All of the news stations were reporting that she had most likely died when activating the Crucible. Garrus wouldn't believe it until he saw her body with his own eyes. She was the strongest person he knew , and if anyone could make it out of this alive , it was her. She couldn't be dead -- not after everything they had gone through.
HE'LL never forget EDI's demeanor as she approached the crew one day during repairs. Her sadness was obvious , and Garrus's heart sank the moment he saw her.
" I ... managed to reconnect my systems with Shepard's vital sign readings , " she began quietly. Her grey eyes flicked downward as she bowed her head. " ... All of her readings have flatlined. She is dead. "
HE didn't want to believe it -- he was in denial for the next few days. Maybe something was wrong with EDI's readings. Of course her vitals weren't showing up ; they were probably too far away from her to get an accurate reading. Not to mention communications were still screwed up.
BUT deep down , he knew ... but he didn't accept it until he finally saw the readings himself. As they pulled close to the Citadel , an alert showed up on his visor regarding Morrigan ( he had tagged her vitals in it after joining up with her for the second time ).
( ALERT )
( FULL VITAL FLATLINE FOR: SHEPARD, MORRIGAN )
( BEGIN IMMEDIEATE RECECITATION )
MORRIGAN was dead. The galaxy was at peace , but what difference did it make without her?
GARRUS isolated himself after her funeral. He stayed at Morrigan's apartment on the Citadel , rarely leaving. His friends and family reached out at times , but he always politely declined their invitations to come over. ( I'm fine , really ) , he told them. ( Just need to be alone for a bit ).
THOUGH he and Morrigan both knew the possibility of them dying was high ... Garrus had never really thought about life without her. He had always assumed that if Morrigan died , he'd go with her , right by her side. He'd never forgive himself for leaving her on the battlefield when she'd asked. Maybe he could have done something. Maybe he could have saved her.
TONIGHT ( like most nights ) he couldn't sleep. He had set himself up at the desk in the bedroom , flicking through old photos on his omnitool. He wished he had taken more of her.
ABOUT an hour later , after one beer had turned into four , the VI on the desk began to act up. It had been a stupid impulse purchase ; the illegal Morrigan VI that was stuck in trial mode. He didn't really know why he had bought it. She'd hated that thing when she saw it. The voice sounded like her , but the tone was far too campy and exaggerated. It could only say a few phrases , all of them revolving around saving the galaxy or encouraging children to join the Alliance. He had fiddled with it a bit , trying to see if he could fix it , but he didn't know anything about programming VI's. After that , he had shoved it to a corner of the desk and forgotten about it.
MORRIGAN'S distorted hologram flickered in the display , and he messed with some of the buttons , trying to shut it off. Nothing seemed to work.
" DAMN it , " he muttered to himself , pressing a few more buttons. Instead of disappearing , the hologram stabilized , now a brilliant blue. Garrus sighed , leaning back in his seat. " ...I guess it makes for a nice desk lamp... ". Spirits , how sad was that? Using his dead girlfriend's hologram as a light. And he though he knew the VI wasn't real ... somehow , he wished it worked fully. Just so he could have some semblance of a conversation with Morrigan again.
Send “You don’t remember, do you?” for my muse’s reaction
Jaskier touched his head gingerly. Ouch. What had... happened? “Well, I’m dizzy. Head hurts. I’m assuming someone hit me in the head. You know, again. Why do people hit me in the head so often?”
