InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I am the Duck of Doom!"

Mordred Lot (thedruidboy) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2010-11-16 00:41:00

Entry tags:

!closed, mordred lot, phillipa cobb

Who: AU!Mordred and AU!Phillipa
What: Two suddenly-teenagers getting to grips with their surroundings.
When: Just after this
Where: Phillipa's flat.
Rating: TBD

Mordred sighed, switching the pullet of strawberries to his other hand and trying the front door to the Cobbs flat. Of course, the fruit had been grapes when he'd stopped by the shop to buy them, but they were certainly strawberries now. He'd even tasted one, just to see if he could get what Phil meant when she said they didn't taste the same. They seemed all right to him... Perhaps she wouldn't guess. Anyway, she should try getting strawberries in November.

The flat was locked, which was something he couldn't remember encountering since he was young. A glance at the plaque beside the door informed him that yes, he was in the right place, and Mordred glanced a little guiltily over his shoulder before wrapping pale, cool fingers around the door handle for a second time. A push of magic, a slight warmth over his palm and the lock clicked open.

Mordred swung the door open, sticking his dark head around to peer curiously into the main room. He didn't make a sound. Mordred may have grown up since everyone around here seemed to know him, but he still wasn't a big fan of excessive talking. Given a choice, he'd rather talk to people using other means. Although sadly Phils had never been able to hear his voice in her head.

So it was still completely silent as the young man padded into the room, kicked off his converse (Mal always hated him tracking mud everywhere) and went to the counter to put the fruit down. He was just examining the huge display of childs drawings that covered the fridge - they were so new - when he heard a bedroom door open. Mordred looked round, then grinned silently in Phil's direction, feeling a rush of affection for his best friend. At least she hadn't changed.

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thedruidboy
2010-11-16 01:32 am UTC (link)

Mordred smiled as he returned Phil's hug, ignoring the teenage part of him that was very aware that she was no longer the little girl he'd grown up with. Instead, as she pulled away and turned towards the counter, Mordred leant back against the counter, curling his fingers around the side. He watched silently as she selected a 'strawberry' and slipped it into her mouth.

The young man's mouth opened in a silent gape, feigning insult for as long as he could manage before a smile quirked the corners of his mouth. When he spoke, his voice was, as always, a little hoarse from under-use. "How do you do that?" he insisted, reaching around her to take another small fruit, breaking it open to the reveal swollen, crimson flesh of the strawberry. "It's perfect!"

He slipped half into his own mouth, frowning as he chewed, before shaking his head. "Perfect," he told her again around the mouthful of fruit, then finally swallowed and turned back to the fridge, absently turning the second half of strawberry in his hand and examining the drawings.

"Look at these... Is that meant to be me?" He reached out with one long finger, pressing it to a dark haired stick boy which played with a figure with long yellow hair.

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daddys_angel
2010-11-16 01:39 am UTC (link)

"You just gave yourself away." She smirked triumphantly as she reached into a cabinet under the counter and got out the waffle iron. For as long as she could remember, they'd never had "Eggos" in her mom's place, so she was pretty sure there wouldn't be any this time, either. "But other than that, I always know when you've done a spell. You've got a tell." It was a word she'd learned from Eames when she was twelve and he had taught her how to play poker.

When he pointed out the drawings, she moved over to them and rolled her eyes. "God, yes, that's you. I forgot my drawings used to look like that." She shook her head with a grin, pulling open the fridge to start getting out the ingredients to make the waffles from scratch. Her artwork had developed over the years quite a bit, thanks to Ariadne and Eames, and she was now a very good artist.

With a smirk, she reached out and snagged the other strawberry half from his hand and slipped it into her own mouth, then turned back towards the counter.

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thedruidboy
2010-11-16 01:55 am UTC (link)

Mordred rolled his eyes. "I do not have a tell. You've just been hanging around Eames too much." He scrunched up his face, moving in to examine the drawings as Phil came to stand beside him, laughing at her expression. His best friends drawings had certainly moved on since those... these days. At least, when she drew him these days his arms weren't sprouting from about halfway down his chest. And he had elbows.

Mordred ducked out the of the way as the fridge was pulled open, his eyes taking on the faintest trace of burnt gold for a moment as, in the crayon drawing, the two stick figures began to move, running and jumping over their lime green field. As he did so, the strawberry vanished from his hand, and he gave a 'hmpf' of annoyance, reaching out to poke her teasingly in the waist.

"You're a menace," he told her, before swinging himself to sit on the counter. Mordred was only just growing out of that gangly stage of the teenage years, and although he was gaining some broadness around his shoulders he would never be anything but skinny. Most of his body was still long and lean, verging in lanky. He watched silently for a moment as Phil busied herself with the waffles. On the fridge, the picture children continued to play.

"So what d'you reckon happened? Is it really just the two of us who jumped time?"

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daddys_angel
2010-11-16 02:14 am UTC (link)

"You do too!" She shook her head and grinned at him, but didn't catch the flash of his eyes or the fact that her picture was now moving. Tossing her hair back from her face, she pulled a small mixing bowl out of another cabinet, then caught his hand when he poked her. "Hey! It's my own brand of magic." Phillipa grinned again, letting him go as he moved over to sit on the counter a few feet from her.

"I've been thinking about that since I woke up. And like I said, we should talk to the Doctor. It'd be cool if it is a time travel thing." She smiled at the thought, her imagination taking over for a moment as she considered that maybe they could somehow go to any point in time they wanted. "But it's actually probably just another weird Colligo thing. It's usually that, you know, when there aren't any demons or angels or," she paused and knocked on his knee with her knuckles, "magic users messing around with stuff."

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thedruidboy
2010-11-16 02:33 am UTC (link)

"I'll talk to Albus," Mordred offered, watching the way she worked with the bowl and the mix, "He's got all that stuff on timeturners." But Phil was sporting that slightly faraway smile she tended to get when she was letting her imagination run riot. It was all that messing around in dreams, he was sure. It made his friend come out with the weirdest things. He'd heard a bit about it from her, and couldn't help but worry when he considered the risks, or imagined her getting stuck. But as had already been pointed out today, Mordred worried quite a lot. Phils was the one who floated happily through life.

Her rap on his knee brought him back to reality, and he swung the leg out in a half-hearted attempt to kick her gently in the stomach. "I don't mess around." He told her, although the animated fridge begged to differ.

Mordred's magic was... difficult. He was more than capable of the light-hearted stuff. Pretty magic, as Morgause condescendingly called it. But there was a very large part of him that was drawn to the darker side of the art. The part of him he tried to keep hidden away when he was around Phil or his Mother.

"Apparently it happened before," he told Phil, tilting his head a little. "Mum said Arthur," the name tempted an unpleasant curl from his upper lip, "told her it only lasted a week though. Perhaps we won't be stuck with childrens rooms for too long."

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daddys_angel
2010-11-16 02:47 am UTC (link)

"Mm. Maybe Sirius can help, too." She said it absently in response to the comment about the timeturners, plugging in the waffle iron with one hand as the other finished mixing the batter. At his words about messing around, she shook her head with a grin. "You do, sometimes." And while he always - almost always - had control over his spells, occasionally she was almost scared. There were times that he would get a look in his eyes that made her want to back away, but she never did. Instead, she did her best to chase the look away, and keep her friend as he was. To date, she always managed to, but sometimes, in the middle of the night, she worried.

It was part of the reason why she didn't like being around Morgause sometimes. She would never admit it out loud, but the woman frightened her for some reason.

"Really? That's good. Because while we are stuck here, I'm going to have to get some new clothes. And art supplies, because Eames doesn't like sharing very much, from what I remember." She opened the iron and poured in half the batter, then nodded to a cabinet next to his head.

"Can you get the plates out, Morry?"

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thedruidboy
2010-11-16 03:01 am UTC (link)

"I've already got Mum to agree to take me for some clothes after this. You could come with us? I slept in these. Look," A rare, wide grin cracked Mordred's features as he stretched his arm out, sleeve pulled down over his hand for Phil to get a good sniff of the slightly ripe smell coming from the fabric. He grinned widely, slipping down from the cabinet before she could retaliate.

He was a little worried about his Mother. If he really was nine in this point of time, she wouldn't have been looking after him long. She might not even have been 'mum' yet. Mordred hesitated, for a moment considering pushing his mind out to find hers. Mordred was quite sure he could contact his adoptive Mother from the other side of the world if he needed to, he was so used to finding her in the sea of psychic voices. But she had never really liked it, and he was old enough now to appreciate her need for private thoughts. Anyway, hadn't it been her, as well as Phil, who had spent years telling him to use his voice?

He nodded, not blinking at the familiar nickname and reaching up to make use of the good few inches he had over Phil, taking a couple of plates down. The smell of the cooking waffles had started to drift through the kitchen as he brought them down, placing one beside the other on the counter. As he did so, he glanced to the doorway that he knew led into the second bedroom.

"Your Mum's not gonna come bursting out thinking we're two really loud burglars, is she?"

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daddys_angel
2010-11-17 01:07 am UTC (link)

“That’d be good. I hope she doesn’t mind me wearing my pj’s.” Thanks to him holding his hand practically under his nose, she made a face and shook her head. “Ew, gross!” She tried to slap his hand away, but he had already jumped down and back away from her. She stuck her tongue out, then shook her head with a laugh. Lifting the waffle iron, she used a spatula to peel off the waffle, then poured in the rest of the batter for the second waffle and closed it again.

Following his gaze towards her mom’s room, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. I hope not, anyway. She sleeps in sometimes; I remember being up for a couple hours before her even when I was little, and talking to Sirius or Eames on the network. I’m pretty sure they did it to keep me distracted until she woke up so I would try running outside or something.” She smiled fondly at the memories. “It’s so weird being here now.”

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thedruidboy
2010-11-17 10:46 pm UTC (link)

Mordred nodded, agreeing silently. It was weird being back here, where everyone expected him to be nine. If one more person on the network told him how 'old' or 'big' he looked he was totally going to make their PDA's smack them in the face.

"We're going to have to be careful what we say to people," he told Phil, moving to stand behind her and leaning over her shoulder to watch her make the waffles. Mordred's teenage boy appetite was firing up now he'd been awake a little while, with nothing but grapes/strawberries for subsistence, and his stomach gave an impatient growl.

"You hear that?" He shot at her, bending a little so he could rest his chin on her slender shoulder. Mordred had known Phillipa since he was nine years old - he'd always been more comfortable being close to her than most. That didn't mean he wasn't sometimes very aware of the fact that she was a girl. And a startlingly pretty one at that. Pushing the thought away, Mordred waited silently until the waffles were finished and then grinned, straightening up and bounding enthusiastically round to pass the plate for the second serving.

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