WHO: Riku and Morgana WHERE: Back of the complex. WHEN: Afternoon, April 12th, 2009 WHAT: Morgana's practicing magic and Riku happens on by. Ratings: PG-13 STATUS: Closed/Incomplete
Morgana had been learning magic from Hermione almost since the moment she showed up from this time. They had first met at the library, both of them working there, and had taken a near immediate interest in each other. Stemming first from mutual curiosity and turning into genuine like and acquaintanceship. Morgana appreciated that Hermione hadn't recoiled when she had discovered who she was. At the time, she had just been figuring out what to do with the reactions that ranged from complete shock to barely veiled suspicion and disgust. She had only known the bare minimum about the legends in relation to herself and that Jessica woman's utter hatred for some wrongdoing she supposedly did in the future. Neutral curiosity was a very welcomed change.
Morgana had wanted to learn and Hermione had been the only one willing and capable of showing her anything. They'd begun with the fundamentals. The theoretical aspects of magic from Hermione's world. Most of their focus on Charms and Arithmancy.
It had taken some doing when transferring theory to practical learning, as Morgana was still getting used to having physical magic and their method of magical release differed grately. Nevertheless, Morgana was an eager student and Hermione was a patient instructor. They slowly, but surely, managed their way around it with a lot of trial and error ... and combusted feathers.
Having off, Morgana decided that today was a nice enough day to practice. The weather was cooling quickly but the sun decided to shine bright that day. Which was great because concentration was hard enough without a heavy coat pressing in on her.
Nine soda cans were lined up on a long, medium sized desk that she had managed to drag out on her own. She didn't want to bother Gwen. And she still wasn't talking to Merlin; although, lately that was more from an uncertainty of what to say than anger. Perceptions tended to change when you watched the lives of you and your friends, on your laptop in High Definition. Arthur was off, very likely still sulking. They had pulled an all-nighter, froth with alcohol and cursing, watching "BBC's Merlin". They had reached a few conclusions. Trolls were horrible. Death by falling through a window was justified way to go if you were a Witchfinder. If they ever ended back in their respective timelines, Arthur was never to 1) Replace Merlin with a scrawnier manservant and 2) snog her best friend without her permission. Lest she geld him. Morgana doubted that Gwen would appreciate the second part; however, they'd both been drunk and it was only fair. Gwen was her closest friend. If Morgana didn't look out for her, who would?
Needless to say, she felt needed more time to his thoughts. Not that she blamed him. Practice wasn't the only reason she was outside.
Pushing up the sleeves of her jacket out of the way, Morgana concentrated on one of the cans, hands extended, focus never wavering once, "Accio!" The can rattled. Rattled. Rattled some more. Before flying smack dab into Morgana's palm. Hard. However, she was much too pleased with her accomplishment to be concerned with the fact that she was going to have a read mark on her palm that would last roughly an hour or so. One learned these little accuracies when one practiced as much as she did.
She place the can on the ground. She worked on two other spells. One that worked successfully and another that involved changing colors. It had gone from orange to ... bluish green. Which was a million steps better than when she first started. When she had first started the can has simply exploded. She had wanted a solid, dark blue. But the can was being difficult.