[Morrigan watches without a word. These are events that have happened; she cannot interfere, only watch as they answer her questions. She hates it. Hates that this is something in his past; hates that she grew attached just enough to be bothered by it.
'He still believes there is good left inside you, which leaves him vulnerable to persuasion. You will exploit that weakness.'
...only one was viable? Her blood runs cold, yet she never turns away.] ...She almost sounds like Mother.
[And from her tone, it's obvious she realizes this isn't a good thing. Her fists clench and she keeps watching, glowering at the sights as she listens and steels herself by the time an ephemeral version of him appears by her side. The next words out of one Shiro's mouth cause that to go out the window.
He's died before. His likeness used against those he cares for most. Something deep inside claws at her, begging to be set free but she keeps it caged. The way she hears the clone's voice break on the name...
It's the same way her voice breaks when she says his name and remembers just how much she has to lose. Morrigan subconsciously places a hand on her own stomach. Soul collection. Right. She isn't good at comforting; she has nothing to go off of for experience. What she does have, however, is knowledge. She steps closer as two merge into one, yellow reflecting a similar certainty. The words on her tongue are foreign, ancient and filled with a song that flows naturally, yet the dreams translate them anyway.]
I am filled with sorrow for what was lost. Yet t'would seem two have become one. [She blinks, bringing a hand to her mouth, as though she can hardly believe that escaped her mouth, before shaking it off.]
...Fear is good, so long as one does not become consumed by it. [She raises both hands to either side of his head and lets down her guard, lets the mixture of both see the glimpse of her time visiting another Circle months ago: mages and enchanters trapped in magical bindings, shaking and barely maintaining their own wills as others unbound grin, snaking tendrils of power around their minds. One boy, no older than twenty, is being held up in a "T" pose by two monstrous entities that were once human until the screams crescendo. Their leader, a bald man, cups their chin with one hand as they hang there suspended and forces them to meet his gaze. Do you accept the gift that I offer? He nods and the screaming continues as humanity gives way to the same corruption as those who had held him up, transforming him into an abomination.]
There is a way to combat it in my reality. [Her voice echoes before she and three others begin to fight the ringleader when her own leader and love denies this "gift" of Uldred's. The same power flows over an elderly man and the man in green who shows up with her holds up a scroll of some sort. The power is nullified.
Morrigan's barriers return as she lowers her hands, the dragon within reflected in her gaze.] If there is a way here, I will help you find it.
cw: mind-control, experimentation, body horror, ptsd, clones
'He still believes there is good left inside you, which leaves him vulnerable to persuasion. You will exploit that weakness.'
...only one was viable? Her blood runs cold, yet she never turns away.] ...She almost sounds like Mother.
[And from her tone, it's obvious she realizes this isn't a good thing. Her fists clench and she keeps watching, glowering at the sights as she listens and steels herself by the time an ephemeral version of him appears by her side. The next words out of one Shiro's mouth cause that to go out the window.
He's died before. His likeness used against those he cares for most. Something deep inside claws at her, begging to be set free but she keeps it caged. The way she hears the clone's voice break on the name...
It's the same way her voice breaks when she says his name and remembers just how much she has to lose. Morrigan subconsciously places a hand on her own stomach. Soul collection. Right. She isn't good at comforting; she has nothing to go off of for experience. What she does have, however, is knowledge. She steps closer as two merge into one, yellow reflecting a similar certainty. The words on her tongue are foreign, ancient and filled with a song that flows naturally, yet the dreams translate them anyway.]
I am filled with sorrow for what was lost. Yet t'would seem two have become one. [She blinks, bringing a hand to her mouth, as though she can hardly believe that escaped her mouth, before shaking it off.]
...Fear is good, so long as one does not become consumed by it. [She raises both hands to either side of his head and lets down her guard, lets the mixture of both see the glimpse of her time visiting another Circle months ago: mages and enchanters trapped in magical bindings, shaking and barely maintaining their own wills as others unbound grin, snaking tendrils of power around their minds. One boy, no older than twenty, is being held up in a "T" pose by two monstrous entities that were once human until the screams crescendo. Their leader, a bald man, cups their chin with one hand as they hang there suspended and forces them to meet his gaze. Do you accept the gift that I offer? He nods and the screaming continues as humanity gives way to the same corruption as those who had held him up, transforming him into an abomination.]
There is a way to combat it in my reality. [Her voice echoes before she and three others begin to fight the ringleader when her own leader and love denies this "gift" of Uldred's. The same power flows over an elderly man and the man in green who shows up with her holds up a scroll of some sort. The power is nullified.
Morrigan's barriers return as she lowers her hands, the dragon within reflected in her gaze.] If there is a way here, I will help you find it.