t(-.-t) (the_warden) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-01-24 04:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, maia amell (the warden), morrigan |
Fond of that myth, or am I reaching
Who: Maia and Morrigan
What: Random bookstore meetings and Maia miraculously doesn't irritate Morrigan
When: day before the fog started
Where: An old book store
Status: complete
Rating: PG-13
Maia hadn’t been back in the OC for long, but she already had a list of things she needed to do. Contact Alistair, see if Lara was still around, and check up on some other friends. She considered Alistair odd but interesting, though she didn’t fully understand why she felt that way about him.
Also on her list was repopulating her library with interesting books, and picking up a few things for her mythology class. The books she could pick up at a quaint old bookstore and there was a yarn store nearby that she’d picked up some things to make more sock puppets with.
She had a book on mesoamerican mythology under one arm and was looking through a hundred year old book on Pharaohs and humming to herself.
Morrigan had been settled in Orange County long enough that she’d finished unpacking from her move and had, to an extent, learned where all the good bookstores, cafes and the like. But she most certainly was having a more difficult time adjusting to the place. It was loud and far too crowded for her liking, but the place still had drawn her here for reasons she couldn’t quite explain.
Her long dark hair was pulled into a messy bun, two black chopsticks stuck through it in an ‘x’ pattern. She was looking through the bookstore, being more than a little impressed at what they carried. Finding a couple books, one on Chinese herbal medicine and another on plants native to this area, Morrigan was taking her time looking through other sections of the store. She found herself in a section that seemed to carry ancient lore and mythology. As she turned the corner, she nearly bumped into another woman who was there looking through a book.
“Ah, my apologies,” Morrigan spoke, managing to not barrel the other woman over. She was clad in a white blouse, enough buttons undone to give a little view of cleavage, black skirt and heels. Though so long as neither of them had dropped anything or become injured, Morrigan intended to simply move around the woman and go about her merry way.
Maia had one of those brief 'oh no she's hot' moments, inspired but the combination of messy bun and white blouse. But she was quick to recover, especially when she recognized the accent as not being from around the OC. "Quite all right. I was a bit engrossed in my dusty old Pharaohs." She held up the book she'd been looking at. "I probably shouldn't be standing in people's ways."
Her own attire was a little professerly. Brown pencil skirt, white blouse and brown jacket. Her hair hung loosely, though, freed from a ponytail earlier that day.
And then there was talking. Alright, Morrigan felt she could be social for the moment. People who came to this sort of a bookstore were less likely to irritate her. Unless Hawke somehow managed to poke his head in, but that was unlikely.
“Reading up on your Egyptian history, I see. Excellent topic, no shortage of intrigue to be found amongst the great Pharaohs of Egypt.” Morrigan quipped, eyes running over the woman’s appearance. She had the look of a professor if one were to judge on looks.
And then there was talking. Morrigan seemed like a bit of the standoffish sort but that had never stopped Maia Amell in her life. “It’s interesting. I was looking for something a bit more oriented towards mythology but the Pharaohs were considered gods so it’s related.”
She shifted the bag of yarn to her other arm then held out her hand. “Maia. Professor of Ancient Studies at UCI.”
“Related indeed. It is rather curious how the idea that a ruler is a divine being transcends cultures.” The Chinese and Japanese believed their rulers to be divine as well, not to mention several other ancient cultures.
Standoffish was one way to describe Morrigan. Socializing and interacting with others was not her strong suit. She was far too blunt, and not one to like sugar coating her opinions. It didn’t win her many friends. Or, really, any friends considering she had no friends. At least not of the human variety. She had her plants and she had two cats that were considered friends.
“Morrigan. I am an herbalist.” She at least took Maia’s hand and shook it. And like any proper English person, she pronounced the ‘h’ in herbalist.
“I literally wrote my thesis on something like that,” Maia said. “Specifically on the similarities between creation myths of various societies. Everyone likes to talk about the differences, but no one talks about the similar themes.”
Morrigan’s hand was warm, and Maia also pronounced herbalist in the proper form. “Herbalist, hmm? Your thumb doesn’t look green.” Which she knew Morrigan had to have heard a thousand times before but that didn’t stop her.
“Clearly you are an exception to that. In my opinion, it is the similarities which can be the most intriguing.” Though obviously the differences could be just as intriguing.
“How amusing, a sense of humor,” she spoke in a deadpan way where one could not tell if she was being sarcastic or serious. “I do keep my green thumb a well kept secret.” Okay so perhaps it was sarcasm.
“There are things that appear in our collective subconscious. Certain themes, certain adventures told over, and over again. I once had a long conversation about that with an archaeologist…” She shrugged. “What’s the point of being alive if you take it seriously all the time?”
“T’would make for quite the conversation. Even though I am an herbalist, I have studied much of the ancient world. T’was a fascinating place, and even more advanced than our current society in some aspects.” Morrigan gave a little smile. “Indeed, life would be rather dull without the occasional showing of humor.”
“The Greeks almost had steam power.” Now wouldn’t an industrial revolution two thousand years early have changed everything? “I wouldn’t really disagree. The ancients also told some really good stories. I have a trick for getting my college students to pay attention though.”
She patted her bag of yarn. “Sock puppets theater.”
If the Greeks had managed steam power, mankind would probably be living on other planets and traveling through space at the speed of light by now. Morrigan’s gaze shifted to the bag, eyebrows lifting a bit. “Sock puppets? I suppose it would hold the attention of college students better than simply lecturing them into a coma.”
“I can’t draw worth a damn,” Maia replied. “But then I thought about visual aides to the old myths. My personal favorite is my anatomically correct satyr.” Whenever she busted that one out the class’s reaction was always a hoot. “Though I think the first myth I illustrated with puppets was Persephone’s.”
“Anatomically correct satyr? Now that sounds to be a wonder in and of itself.” It would be a sight to behold, considering artists and film depictions of satyrs weren’t always that accurate. “A fitting tale to begin with, I should think.”
“Yes.” Maia had a completely straight face, because not only was it as close to what was mentioned in most myths, it had rather large features like what was described in said myths that typically got sanitized for cartoons and movies. “What do you think of the theory that Persephone was a willing abductee?”
Morrigan found herself being inexplicably curious as to seeing this anatomically correct satyr sock puppet, but she would just keep that to herself. After all, they had literally just met. There were better topics of conversation to be had. And Maia had earned the distinction of not irritating Morrigan yet. “I believe it to have a credible foundation. Hades was not a terrible person, not to the extent the other Olympians could be, such as his brother Zeus. And considering how Demeter kept Persephone hidden from the gods, it stands to reason Persephone would want the opportunity to experience the world without her mother’s consistent interfering.”
And really, Morrigan related to Persephone in some ways. The overbearing mother and the growing up in relative seclusion in the countryside being the most prominent of those.
Maia would be more than happy to share. But then she was a master of over-sharing to begin with. “There’s several variations on the myth too, and on the gods. Though Zeus is a dick by all accounts. Sometimes literally.” She winked at Morrigan. “Fond of that myth, or am I reaching?”
“Zeus is rather unsavory no matter what variation of the myths one is referencing.” Morrigan didn’t pay much attention to Zeus. There were other figures in Greek mythology that caught her interest. Then at Maia’s question, she gave a little shake of her head. “You are not reaching, I am fond of Persephone and have read several variations of her myth. She is also perhaps one of my personal favorite figures across all of the myths of the ancient world.”
“Care to share why that is?” If Maia had been sitting down, she would have rested her chin on her hands, but she still leaned in slightly, curious. “I have this unfortunate thing where I’m a little nosy when it comes to birds who are interested in mythology.”
Oh lovely, Maia was leaning in slightly. Morrigan managed to resist taking a step backwards. She had a personal bubble that she liked people to stay out of. “So this is a common trait of yours to ask someone you just met somewhat personal questions?” She countered easily. There was a gleam in her eyes to signal she wasn’t upset at the question, she was merely avoiding answering because it was kind of a personal topic.
“Yes.” Maia just grinned at her. “One time at pride I met this bloke and a couple of birds and we had a real good time together. But I don’t think that’s what you meant.”
That was entirely more information than Morrigan needed to know about someone she literally just met. Whatever discomfort she may have felt didn’t show in her body language. “I see, though you are correct. That is not what I meant.”
“I don’t usually, no. But considering what we were talking about, I got a little curious. I suppose one’s choices in myths can say a lot about them.” She grinned again, leaning back as if sensing Morrigan’s discomfort.
“That they certainly may.” Morrigan was a bit protective about her personal space, so she felt better once Maia leaned back. “What of you? What myths do you prefer?” She had other favorites that she could speak of, but that would reveal more about herself that she wasn’t yet ready to reveal.
“Eurydice and Orpheus,” Maia replied. It was a sad tale. Orpheus traveling to the underworld to convince Hades and Persephone to release his woman, only to lose her because he looked back. A lesson in moving forward instead of looking back.
“A tragic tale with a poignant lesson to teach.” Morrigan briefly wondered the reasons behind Maia liking that tale the most, but she was not going to ask. “Love lost twice over because Orpheus could not trust enough to keep moving forward. The temptation of what was behind him grew too much.”
“So I always try to move forward.” It was, in some ways the truth, and in others a lie. Maia always tried to move forward, but every so often, in the right circumstances, she’d look back. A lesson she’d start learning in earnest as she started to dream. “Less tragedy that way.”
“Indeed, so long as moving forward one learns from the times they looked backwards.” That was the important thing, really, learning and growing as one moved forward. Morrigan didn’t really look backwards, not in respect to her own life. She looked backwards to learn about the past when she could. Even if plants were her love, knowledge of the ancients was her passion.
“You know, you have a good point there.” Maia waggle-pointed her finger in Morrigan’s direction. “Maybe that’s a flaw in the myth - you have to be able to learn from the past and you can’t do so without looking back. Say, do you want to get a drink sometime? A beer? Tea?”
“Tis good to know someone believes that.” Morrigan did manage a little smirk, obviously using humor with that remark. Even if Morrigan would yell from rooftops that she knew what was what better than anyone else. “I could be persuaded, yes. Either tea or wine. I do not drink beer.”
Oh yes, play up to Morrigan’s vanity. Maia could do that. Something about her was familiar, in that comfortable sort of way, but also in that ‘she’s prickly but I’ll bet there’s someone really interesting underneath all those barbs’ sort of way. She felt like they’d met before, in another life. And reincarnation wasn’t something to be entirely dismissed.
“You know, wine sounds delightful. I should have pegged you for that instead of a beer. More elegant.” She was also a really good recovery flirt.
Morrigan was a vain creature, even if she would never quite admit to being it. But it did show sometimes in other ways. Though as far as she was concerned, the barbs could remain where they were and no one need delve beyond them.
Except flattery was always nice, even if Morrigan typically did not care for it. Yet she couldn’t find it in herself to rebuke the flirting. “Wine goes well with intelligent discussions, I find. And you certainly are intelligent.” And, finally, an actual smile. Really, Maia should get an award right then and there because she hadn’t annoyed Morrigan yet.
It was a pretty smile, the kind that made one want to ellicit more like it. Maia nodded a little. “Well then, I should let you get back to your book hunting. Would you like my number?” Often people were more comfortable if they were given a number, rather than having to give their own. At least prickly people. Maia was turning up the charm.
“T’would be best, otherwise it would be difficult to set up a time to have that drink, would it not?” Morrigan commented with some snark. The longer she spoke with those who didn’t annoy her, the more her humor tended to come out. Perhaps this would be the beginning of something akin to friendship. And Morrigan didn’t exactly have friends.
She liked the snark. It was cute. Morrigan was cute. Maia decided to save telling her that for a better moment, when it would be more entertaining. She held up a finger, then pulled out a little note pad to scribble her phone number on. She held it out. “We could always try carrier pigeon.”
And there was a chuckle. “Alas my last carrier pigeon never returned to me. I have yet to train a new one.” Sometimes the snark was able to show through in a more genuine way, like currently, than to simply make fun of someone. Morrigan reached out and took the piece of paper with a bit of a gleam in her eyes.
“I know this bloke.” Maia’s eyes twinkled. She may have just met Morrigan, but she already found her intriguing. And they might just have a date. Of sorts. But then it’s never just a coffee/tea wine date. “I’ll send him your way sometime. He can hook you up with a great little bird. Take care of all your messaging needs.”
“I may have to take you up on that. The bird will need to learn to navigate my greenhouse.” After all, Morrigan spent a lot of time in there when she wasn’t tending to clients or the like. To her, it would simply be an intelligent discussion over wine. At least at this point. It tended to take a lot of work to get through Morrigan’s exterior, get her attention and then get her on a date.
Work was the easy part. Almost the fun part, in some ways. But Maia was just as happy to have intelligent conversation. “You have a greenhouse? Oh, of course you do, you’re a herbalist.” She chuckled. “I should have realized.”
“Tis the lack of a green thumb, it did not hint at my having a greenhouse.” While Morrigan could easily just have a specialized garden, the greenhouse was more conducive as it allowed her to control the atmosphere and conditions the plants were grown in.
“Of course!” Maia waggled her finger at Morrigan. “You got me there. I wonder what else your lack of a green thumb is hiding. I suppose I’ll have to find out.”
“Time shall tell if you have what it takes to find out such a mystery.” It was the truth. Not many had what it took to find out much about Morrigan. And she certainly didn’t make it all that easy either.
Maia grinned. Challenge accepted.