❥ LOVEFOOL

“Oh, well aren’t you just a regular detective. What could possibly lead you to believe that a man drinking alone at a bar on a weekend could just be lonely? Thats fine detective work, ma’am.” Magnus smirked. She seemed all too serious about an old man at a bar. There was something odd about the way she talked. He couldn’t put his finger on it though. “Morrigan. Thats an interesting name. Don’t oft hear it.” His eyes narrowed towards her. “Did your parents own this place or one like it or something?” He tapped the bar and met eyes with the bartender, his hand waving towards her. “If you’re determined to be my chaperone for the evening, at least have a drink and get less weird. Or more weird. I don’t care really.” 

“my mother was an interesting woman.” she replied lightly, in explanation, finding that the more magnus spoke the less threatening he actually seemed. some of the tension she’d been holding onto since sitting down with him dropped away, easing herself off the edge she’d been on. she was paranoid these days--though no one could blame her with her past. “no, my parents were dirt poor.” the idea that they could ever afford something like this was almost laughable; benecio crane had worked three jobs to provide for his four daughters and it still never seemed to be enough. morrigan downed the rest of her beer. “it was my husband who liked clubs.” erik liked the smoke, the booze, the women. the actual music came last on the last. "i think the last time we went was when we shared a table at copacabana wit lucille ball and desi arnaz.” which would’ve been sometime back in 1992, making her age at well over the 25 she appeared to be. 

“It’s never just nonsense,” Ash knew that so much more goes through her head yet somehow no matter how hard he tries to understand, it felt like there’s just a part where he never could. Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try. “I don’t see why not,” Ashton hummed, looking up to the New York sky, clearer than usual, perhaps more secluded away from the city lights, “the stars have a way of always behind constant amongst the chaos.” They’re ever moving, ever growing, yet to the insignificant human, they never change, the constellations never shift. He only looked down when he felt his tie being tugged on, resisting the urge to flinch away knowing that it was Morri. And there it was again, she always knew, somewhere behind his eyelids and hanging down his shoulders were heavy weights of pressure. He dropped his head and shut those blues, letting out a soft sigh with the act breaking for just a second before lifting back up with a small smile, “I know.. But I’m fine, I promise.” I have to be. “I’m okay, and you’re doing okay too, right?”

“you’ll have to remind me of the constellations sometime,” she used it as an excuse to ensure he’d come around more. “the only one i can ever remember how to find is scorpuis.” and that was just because it was the constellation associated with their shared birth month. morrigan was both relieved and disheartened to watch ashton lower his guard, a wordless admittance of the weight on his shoulders. she fought the urge to frown and instead gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “well since you’re going to be in new york for a while i hope to see you around more often. it’s not as big of a city as everyone thinks--we’ll probably be bumping shoulders on the street a lot.” just like they had tonight. “and we can keep each other updated on how ‘fine’ we’re doing.”she added in way of answer to his last question, her tone making it clear that she didn’t quite buy into his words of assurance. 

Nikolai found himself just watching her face, trying to pick up on where her thoughts were going. “You can see what?” He asked softly, still wondering: where was she in her mind? Lost, or found? At least she didn’t ask him for more of the story; what he remembered was mostly happy, mostly busy, but all coloured over by a veil of sadness. Every memory really did fall at the feet of the last. He couldn’t help laughing at the suddenness of the question, cutting into his melancholy. “No, there aren’t any castles here. A bit of a missed opportunity, if you ask me.” There was something that always caught him off-guard about America: it was so new, lacking the familiar heritage that made Romania so – complete. No folk tales, barely more than 200 years of history, no castles or ancient ruins to wander. Which didn’t mean they weren’t there, just erased. “But honestly, there wasn’t much business in Romania anymore. I needed a change.” Needed to get out, away from the world of his childhood, crumbling around him. Away from himself, to a place where people didn’t know his scars. “I miss home, though. Especially the sky – where we lived, there wasn’t another house for a few miles, and the stars were the brightest I’ve ever seen them.” Looking up now, all Nikolai could see was the faint, orange glow of streetlights, reflected in the sky. “What about you? You don’t sound like you’re from here.”

though romania was as foreign and strange to her as any world from a children’s story, the picture that nikolai painted seemed quite nice--perhaps she’d go there someday. morrigan had been to many places and had many more to go, though only one would ever truly feel like home to her. “i don’t know if i’m really from anywhere. i was born in rhode island but i haven’t thought of it as a home in a very long time.” morrigan brightened at the mention of stars, seemingly glowing at the chance to speak on a topic she enjoyed. “my home is in norway, a cozy cottage under the stars with a perfect view of the northern lights.” she could picture that quite clearly, the memory of herself and those closest to her living without fear, without worry. “when you’re close enough, it’s like you can feel the stars radiating down on you.” it wasn’t warmth exactly. energy, maybe. whatever it was those lights filled her with a fervor for life, some strange feral desire to keep going; she’s only felt it once more--the night she got brave enough to leave her husband. she grew quite again, chasing thoughts around her mind like little white rabbits. she was gone again, for a moment. a single tear sliding down her cheek as she blinked back into reality. there was terror in her gaze when she looked at nikolai again. it took effort to keep herself steady, bracing for something--yelling, a fist? when it didn’t come she managed to left out a shaky breath of relief. “...lost myself again.” she whispered, a embarrassed apology. “i think--i think i need to go now.” 

“No problem, it’s never one,” it was the easiest thing to do, to waltz next door and knock on her door or leave a plate in her shop. And it was enough to see the bright smile on her face from just the simplest of pastries. He returned the squeeze to hold her hand, leaning forward to give her three light pecks on her cheeks, the chaste greetings of the Dutch. “No- it- it’s fine. We’re handling it pretty okay back in there,” he had to laugh at the sight of his tiny neighbour trying to puff up and be mean but he greatly appreciated the gesture, “I know who to call next time, but no major complaints so far tonight at least.” That was all they were mentally preparing for, they weren’t sure if they could handle being blindsided by the nasty comments again. “Really? Even here in New York?” He tried to look across what would’ve once been a vast sky without the skyscrapers. “Rotterdam had such a nice place to stargaze too..”

it was good to hear that tomas’ night had been a successful one--though troubling, too, in a way. this city had sharks; but worse, it had people who fed others to them. tonight was not the night for such thoughts, however. “well, if you still have the time for business with a humble occult shop owner, i’ve been meaning to place another order on cat treats.” maybe it was silly to waste tomas’ talents on her four-legged friends, but morrigan delighted in the idea of giving them a taste of something fancy. she quirked her head to the side slightly at his comment, thinking it over. new york? it didn’t sound right. but tomas was here and she didn’t want to look foolish. morrigan settled on a small ‘mhm’ in reply, unsure how convincing it was.  after a few moments she added, “nothing compares to watching the northern lights though, the way the colors just.. wash over you.” it was hard to adequately describe the memory. maybe that was because she’d never actually seen them yet.

Magnus laughed, willing to humor the woman. “A creep, is that what I am now?” He sipped his drink and focused back to the singer. “Carmilla, huh? Sounds like you’re very interested in her well being. Does the lady have a little crush?” He smirked. He wasn’t sure what this woman’s problem was. He knew he was old and grumpy but he hardly considered himself to be someone who appeared to be a threat. “Mr. Servus. You can call me Magnus though, Madam..?” He honestly didn’t care what her name was, but he was willing to toy with her a bit before he got bored and left for the night. “What brings a little number like yourself out to a joint like this anyways?”

her eyes narrowed slightly, correcting him. “oh, no--i haven’t decided on that yet.” otherwise she could’ve just waved security over and had the situation dealt with. “maybe you’re not a creep, just another lonely guy looking to lose himself in her songs for a while.” morrigan mused aloud, gaze turning back to the stage. “morrigan.” she let out a breathy hum at his final question, already knowing her answer. the dark and cushy atmosphere of the lounge felt outdated, carmilla singing over the dreamy beats of the swing band that played beside her. it could’ve been a seen out of the blues brothers. “stepping through those doors feels like stepping back into the past. it feels... familiar.” much more than the world outside did, anyway.

She had a way to bring the smile and the bubble of laughter out from Ash, something that ached like an old sore, forgotten until he pulled the muscle again. Yet it didn’t all feel bad. “hi,” he returned the hug, the comfort he’s missed as his arms wrapped tighter into the embrace, soaking in the hug that seemed to reassure him everything would be okay. He almost didn’t want to break away but he had to with a chuckle to ask, “what does that mean?” Seemed perfectly fine being the rabbit, maybe Morri wondering through with him, like Alice. “Hmm, I’ll come do more surprise visits next time, noted,” it’s true, it felt like everything was planned to the T the years they met up, Ashton always making sure the DIA never knew. But with both of them now in New York, it’s a lit easier to bump into each other, or even doing late night visits when the sky is clear. “I’m guessing the sky swept you away from the party?”

she rested a small hand against his chest, shaking her head with a small smile. “just nonsense.” morri dismissed his question, knowing that even if she found a way to express the messy train of thought ash wouldn’t buy into it; he didn’t like being reminded of the leash around his neck. “i suppose it must’ve,” morri decided. “sometimes i think i could sit under them and wait until time makes sense of itself.” though they both knew her problem was less with time and more with her broken mind and the interpretation of it all. clearing her throat she perked up, playing with the tie around his neck. her long nails flipped underneath his collar, straightening here and smoothing there, fussing over him like a mother hen. “you look tired, ash. how many times do i have to tell you to take care of yourself?” it didn’t matter--she’d keep telling him until it stuck. 

He heard the woman talk and slipped her an acknowledging smirk. Magnus had given her a small amount of attention but trailed off back to the singer. The singer had such a kind face and a sultry voice that, if he were a much younger man, would have had him worshipping at the altar of her microphone stand. But since he wasn’t a much younger man, he opted to instead spend a night every few weeks with a drink and a song amongst her presence. He felt the other woman’s eyes still on him. “Its rude to talk during a performance you know. Shows a lack of respect for the artist and the art.” He sighed. No one respected art anymore, but he couldn’t remember just how far back that went. He knew he had lived through ages where artists were as respected as the philosophers and those who made discoveries, but at some point through the centuries the art had become nothing more than a joke for the most part. “Shes very pretty, isn’t she?” He resigned himself to the conversation. “You are too, of course, but she has something about her right? You can almost feel her soul coming out in each line.”

if his intentions were to further raise her suspicions, then he was certainly succeeding in the endeavor. her time in the asylum and the horrific experiments she’d been subjected to while there had more than imposed how dangerous being a muse would be--how far people would be willing to go to have that sort of power under their thumb. she narrowed her eyes at her new companion, trying to decide if his comments were made out of genuine appreciation or something more sinister. “i don’t think carmilla minds when i weed out the creeps.” she replied, making it clear she was protective over the other woman. taking a long sip of her beer, the muse tried to decide how to handle this. she was never very good at being subtle. “you seem very.. perceptive, mr....?” 

@magnus-servus​

it was how intently the stranger was watching that had drawn morrigan’s attention; the look of concentration on his face, staring down the singer on stage as she were performing only for him. quite fond of the singer in question, morri found herself wondering just what this man’s intentions towards her were. and so here she was--falling into the empty chair beside him, an inquisitive expression as she looked him over. “is there a reason you’re watching her like she’s your next meal?”

Nikolai wasn’t quite sure he agreed with her, that things like that were inevitable – but in some sense, on some twisted timeline, when you know the events of your life just not the order, it must make sense. Every memory must feed into that final moment. “My mamă used to say, it doesn’t matter where the happiness comes in your life, as long as it’s there. She should know, she’s a thousand years old.” It was a strange way to spend the evening, half-dancing with a complete stranger to music only she could hear, but Nikolai found himself almost enjoying it. Only – the muted sadness of the situation dampened its almost magical mood. Endings, always the disappointment, always the part people wanted to ignore.“They–” the truth was that, while the middle of their story had been happy, what he could only see as the ending was marred by premature grief. A kind of advancing twilight of loss, the reason why he’d finally called in Alexander Vanderbilt’s favour and moved to New York: their castle, their refuge, had become more of a choking prison. “Their story isn’t over yet, but I hope so. The rest of it’s certainly happy. I can tell you more, if you like–”

the number was daunting to her--carried such a weight with it that for a moment she thought she’d collapse under the pressure. a thousand years? morrigan had trouble keeping track of her own timeline, but she knew it had to be much shorter than that. and yet, in that time, she’d come to loose so much. how could anyone live for that long? hold on to all those dark days and still find the strength to keep going? morri was mystified; and maybe a bit jealous. her expression likely betrayed her, bittersweet taste on her tongue. narrowing her eyes she was surprised by the sudden ache in her chest, the pang of understanding. “--no, i can see it now.” she amended her earlier thoughts aloud, looking at nikolai through a mother’s gaze--because, she’d been one too once, lifetimes ago. maybe we carried on for the people we loved. maybe they gave us the strength to keep going. either way, morrigan recognized that nikolai had probably made the prospect of facing eternity a lot less terrifying to his mothers. she let out a soft hum, not offering explanation for her half-finished comment. “no, i think that’s enough for now.” not that she didn’t like hearing about them, it was just... hard. to think about love stories, happy endings, when the muse had a feeling she’d lost the chance at ever having her own. “why new york?” she asked curiously, adding, “there’s no castles here” in a serious tone.

“I know, I saved you your favourite,” Tomas always remembered the food habits of people, it was as easy as remembering someone’s name to him, it came almost as a packaged deal with first impressions. “I could bring some over afterwards if you’re not hungry.” He felt comfortable enough around her to not worry about knocking on her door, any time of the day. Yet something felt off and he couldn’t quite put a pin on it. “Yeah.. it’s a little unbearable in there,” he wasn’t one for crowds either, the kitchen was hectic and packed, but every chef and cook had their own station and their space of comfort. Here everyone was trying to get into everyone’s space. He paused their little dance to look up into the night sky, not even realising how much cleared up tonight, “wow.. that’s.. a rare sight for New York, isn’t it?”

morrigan was always amazed at the beautiful little delicacies her favorite neighbor cooked up--truly, she’d yet to try one that she didn’t like. the colors, the textures, the tastes !! as someone who grew up with peasant dishes and no particular talent in the kitchen, morri was bewildered at tomas’ imagination and the delightful treats he came up with; there was no denying he was an artist, just as talented as the rest. “that would be nice tomas,” she accepted the offer, reaching down to squeeze one of his hands. “i hope they’ve giving you the appreciation you deserve.” pumping up her chest, morri narrowed her brows and put on a tough-guy facade, “because if it’s anything less than the highest praise, i may have to go in there and give them a piece of my mind!” the air left her and she giggled, shrinking back down to her small statue of 5′0. looking at the sky she hummed, a reminiscent smile on her face. “there used to be so many clear nights. you could see the stars for miles.” 

“No, last time I checked, I was definitely a human being.” He let her hands roam over his face, tilting it to her will. Somehow, Nikolai got the feeling she wasn’t talking about the caterpillar anymore – his mother always got that look, the far-off disappointment of a memory that didn’t quite belong to her anymore. Wanting to ask who he was, Nikolai knew the answer might be worse than simply not knowing, but if there was any way he could help her – “Who is he?” Soft, hesitant, almost afraid to hear her response. “Who are you looking for?” Perhaps she wouldn’t be able to say, and the only clue he’d be left with was that the mysterious man looked like him.

Nikolai’s chest tightened as soon as she mentioned it. Mother. A stab of grief, for her pain more than anything, but caught in a faint echo of his own. “Oh – I’m sorry.” Hardly knowing where to begin, he just wrapped his arms around her, some clumsy reassurance he didn’t feel like he had the right to give. Thoughts of his parents were caught between happier days and what it was like now, the silent decay – but he couldn’t burden her with that. Only sunshine memories were allowed in wonderland. “Well, I have two. Mothers, I mean – I’m adopted. My mother’s a sculptor and my mamă is her muse, and they live in an old house in the mountains. I think it used to be a castle, actually.” It sounded almost like a fairytale: the artist and her wife, safe in their Romanian castle. Protected from the world. 

her lip twitched into a wry smile, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully. “a friend,” she answered, dreamily, though unable to give him more of an answer than several off-hand comments. “he’s terribly lonely these days. i’ll have to give him a push in the right direction.. but i think things will turn out okay.” morrigan didn’t know everything, but there were glimpses; though some might find the fact that these glimpses were given to her terribly out of order frustrating, morrigan had come to the conclusion it didn’t really matter. what had happen, will happen. there would be tears, but there would also be happiness. while the dark days ahead seemed daunting, morri held steady that it would be worth it. it had to be, right? 

Over the years of separation, Ashton rarely got to see Morri, to check in on her, to make sure she was safe, but technology had far advanced to be able to keep in touch. It wasn’t until he moved to New York, did they get to properly meet each other again. A full pressure eased off his shoulders knowing with his own two eyes that the DIA hadn’t touched her in any way, as it should be, as he’d already paid the price for the so called mistake he made. And with New York being a saturated haven for muses, Morri wasn’t on their priority list either, not if he could help it. He found her outside the gallery by herself, angelic, fragile, dancing and humming to her own tune, he couldn’t not walk up towards her. He got caught off guard by the arms thrown around him and he had his own steadying her in case she fell,  “am I Alice? Or would I be a better Peter Rabbit?” he smiled as soft as his words, following her stead to move however she wanted. He brought it back with a serious mutter, “you okay?”

though their communication had been sporadic over the years, morrigan had never forgotten the kind soul she’d met watching the stars. she understood that their time together would come and go, despite the connection she’d felt with him, and hadn’t fought against the distance their relationship required. morri didn’t know ashton’s story in its entirety, but she knew that he had.. responsibilities. expectations, to uphold. she didn’t ask many questions, found it a bit too complicated to follow along. they were friends, and that was enough. her smile grew more sincere at his comment, the haze becoming clearer the longer she looked at him. “ash!” morri exclaimed, as if seeing him properly for the first time. she tightened her hold around his neck, giving him a proper hug. thinking over his words, morrigan declared, “you’re the rabbit. but you won’t always be.” he didn’t have to, at any rate. “i like running into you this way--never knowing when you’ll be around the next corner.” it was something nice to look-forward to, the promise of a visit always looming in her future. though... with his line of work, she found herself afraid that one day he might just stop showing up.