Who: Queen Morgana and Captain Blackbeard What: Evil plotting? Where: Morgana's tower on Darkwood. When: Friday evening. Warnings: Yes. Basically NC17. Status: In progress.
The black walls of Morgana's tower grew out of the very ground itself, stretching up to pierce the clouded sky above. From the windows, all at varying heights and of no uniform size, the occasional glimpse of golden light showed, the one real brightness in the dark landscape. Gray water lapped at the black shores of the island and at the dock which jutted out from it into the sea. The snap of a sail drew the eye upwards, to the majestic black ship which was docked there, in the shadow of the Black Tower.
High above, Morgana's slim fingers parted the red velvet curtains that covered the opening, golden light spilling out around her shadowed frame. A faint smile curved up her red lips as her cold gaze fell on the ships before and a surprising hint of warmth flashed briefly through her gaze. One of her attendants had brought word down to the ship's Captain, requesting he come see her. Whether he answered or not was up to Blackbeard himself, but Morgana had a feeling he would. They liked to play power games at times, but when it came down to it, Edward Teach was a loyal man, and that was precisely why she trusted him above all her other allies.
Letting the curtains fall back into place, the Queen moved away from the window and back to the center of the room. It was not her main throne room but a smaller version, much more intimate and personal; the place she most preferred to have her private meetings. A fire burned in the stone fireplace on one wall, and in the center of the room sat two chairs. One, carved from a dark wood, was a smaller version of Morgana's throne, recreated to her specifications. The other was smaller and simpler, meant for whichever ally she had invited to meet with her. To the right of both chairs was a small table, and the entire seating arrangement sat on a luxurious rug, imported (by the very crew sitting out on the ship below) from Bharata.
She wore a black dress today, not bothering with the bright colors she might wear to fit in when she was moving about Fae Woods. This dress, though she would not admit it aloud, had been picked out on purpose. It was slightly more revealing, the corseted bodice low in front and making her waist seem even more narrow, the sleeves slightly sheer and see through, the skirt long and full. She wore no crown today, just a circlet set atop her long dark waves of hair. She appeared calm as she lowered herself into her chair, but just faintly, the sound of her humming to herself could be heard as she dragged her sharp finger nails in patterns over the arm of the chair, lost (as she sometimes easily became) in her own mind. The song she hummed seem to twine through the air, making it almost seem as if the flames beside her were swaying and crackling to the same rhythm, waiting as she did for someone to arrive.