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The Return (Tag: Frigg) [07 Feb 2008|07:47am]
Sif took one final walk through her apartment, making sure she had everything she needed. It had taken very little time to pack up all the necessities, though Sif's idea of necessities would make a "fabulous" gay man jealous. She had covered all the furniture, unsure when she might be returning. Despite Thor's assurances, she had talked to her agent, deciding to put her modeling on hold for the rest of the season. There were far more important things to concentrate on right now. He wasn't pleased with her decision; her agent's pockets were always a little fuller when she made herself available. But he did seem to understand, at least, that her marriage had to take priority right now. "Monique" promised she would consider returning in the fall.



Small Comforts (tag: Makaria... and perhaps others?) [07 Feb 2008|06:55pm]
It had been a good talk. With both of those she held dear. Seeing Hedylogos and Isis had put her in a very good mood, though she’d been sort of floating on air for some time now. Things were going so well, she was almost hesitant to cling to the happiness, afraid that if she held it too tightly it might slide out of her grasp. So for the time being, she was simply going to enjoy her life. Not analyze. Not plan. Not worry. Enjoy.

To that end, because she really did not wish to be in the way of Hedy’s party, after she left Isis she made the decision to go back to Alaska. She couldn’t call it home. Not yet. It wasn’t home yet, it was still where Loki lived. But she wanted to see him, and that was where she knew she could find him. Eventually. He was a bit of a wanderer, he always had been, so it wasn’t as though Sigyn expected to find him sitting at home waiting for her. But he’d return there eventually, and when he did, she could be there waiting for him.

Quite probably with Makaria. )



Drowning (Narrative) [07 Feb 2008|11:05pm]
War.

It called to her even now. Even here.

How long had it been? She couldn't remember. She didn't know anything but pain.

There was little in her memory at this moment aside from the pain she'd gone through, and it all blurred together refusing to give her any sense of time. She vaguely recalled the Underworld, trying to find Nyx. Erebos, her beloved friend. She had a sense of needing to find his family for him, to explain something. Trying. Failing.

For a very long time, she'd thought of nothing but the sensation in her flesh, in her bones, filling her up from the inside out. The intensity had only dulled because her mind had started shutting itself off. Her nerve endings felt almost ragged. Worn. But not deadened. No. Just used up. As if she might never feel anything ever again, should this ever end. Dimly, Morrigan was aware that she was floating. That she must be in water. She wasn't conscious of the feeling of wetness, but the only way to float like this was to be in liquid of some kind. It had to be water.


This was not Ares flaying flesh off of her. This was not battle. This was something of a new level. Something she might have considered to be enjoyable had it stopped a long while ago. Something she might seek in the future, but not for as long as she'd endured it this time.

Long ago the other two voices in her head had left her. Had abandoned her for their own pain. Not that she wanted or needed anybody to distract her, or talk to her. She wanted nothing but to keep her eyes closed and be.

But something, even through all that she was feeling, through the haze of her mind, had woken her. Had brought her back to herself. Had sent delicious chills through her from head to toe. Something she knew very well and loved. Adored. Delighted in. Something was powerful enough to call her back and make her completely aware again. Memory remained distorted, lost, because it had lost importance. But feeling, knowledge of herself and the world around her, desire, need, sentience, had come crashing back in a wave too big to ignore.

It called. It begged for her. It cried out it's need for her. It coaxed. It teased. It whispered in her ear promises of what was to come, and Morrigan found it impossible to brush away.

War.



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