Morrigan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
courtintrigue) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2020-05-09 11:41 am
courtintrigue) wrote in middaeg2020-05-09 11:41 am
[OPEN] that old black magic
Who: Morrigan + you, 4th wall welcome!
When: throughout May
Where: around Aefenglom
What: potion-selling + wilde hunt. potentially quest stuff if you'd like a morrigan-shaped companion (in which case you can slide me a pm or pp gratuitousmagic to plot!). maybe more later in the month.
Warnings: will add if needed
[ for what ails you ]
After two months of helping at an apothecary, Morrigan has started subtly advertising solo work. A small note pinned to a message board and spreading through word of mouth suits her just fine. Her mother taught her to make her first potion as soon as she was old enough to take direction and it only feels natural to mix herbalism with alchemy here, making healing salves and potions that briefly make the skin near impenetrable and draughts to help with sleeplesslness and other moderate ailments. Her prices are fair enough based on the effort required and the general ease of getting her hands on the appropriate ingredients. For an additional (but not insubstantial) fee she delivers the finished product rather than make people meet her in a park or at DiplomaTea to pick it up.
Contact her with a request or meet her in person!
[ for fuck's sake ]
Morrigan lived in the wilds for over half her life. She is no rogue but she can certainly be stealthy when she needs to. At home in Thedas it would often be enough but here, after months without a bond and with the moons waning, there is something electric about her presence, as though just being within a certain radius of her makes hair stand on end. She has always enjoyed the feeling of her own power, magic flowing through her as surely as blood in her veins, but this is different. She feels different, never more like a conduit, pulsing with magical energy.
Roughly every other night for the duration she participates in the hunt, more interested in finding Shades than interacting with other people. It feels so good to pour herself into their destruction, to fling magic until she feels vaguely as though she has scratched an itch, that occasionally during the day she finds herself thinking of nightfall with the restless longing of a lovesick fool.
As she lurks behind a tree one night she hears a rustle of leaves nearby and whips around. A flurry of sparks blooms between her fingers, lightning arcing through the air toward the source of the noise before she even has a chance to see what -- or who -- it is.
[ pm or pp if you'd like something more personal or feel like wildcarding. as always, happy to match format! ]
When: throughout May
Where: around Aefenglom
What: potion-selling + wilde hunt. potentially quest stuff if you'd like a morrigan-shaped companion (in which case you can slide me a pm or pp gratuitousmagic to plot!). maybe more later in the month.
Warnings: will add if needed
[ for what ails you ]
After two months of helping at an apothecary, Morrigan has started subtly advertising solo work. A small note pinned to a message board and spreading through word of mouth suits her just fine. Her mother taught her to make her first potion as soon as she was old enough to take direction and it only feels natural to mix herbalism with alchemy here, making healing salves and potions that briefly make the skin near impenetrable and draughts to help with sleeplesslness and other moderate ailments. Her prices are fair enough based on the effort required and the general ease of getting her hands on the appropriate ingredients. For an additional (but not insubstantial) fee she delivers the finished product rather than make people meet her in a park or at DiplomaTea to pick it up.
Contact her with a request or meet her in person!
[ for fuck's sake ]
Morrigan lived in the wilds for over half her life. She is no rogue but she can certainly be stealthy when she needs to. At home in Thedas it would often be enough but here, after months without a bond and with the moons waning, there is something electric about her presence, as though just being within a certain radius of her makes hair stand on end. She has always enjoyed the feeling of her own power, magic flowing through her as surely as blood in her veins, but this is different. She feels different, never more like a conduit, pulsing with magical energy.
Roughly every other night for the duration she participates in the hunt, more interested in finding Shades than interacting with other people. It feels so good to pour herself into their destruction, to fling magic until she feels vaguely as though she has scratched an itch, that occasionally during the day she finds herself thinking of nightfall with the restless longing of a lovesick fool.
As she lurks behind a tree one night she hears a rustle of leaves nearby and whips around. A flurry of sparks blooms between her fingers, lightning arcing through the air toward the source of the noise before she even has a chance to see what -- or who -- it is.
[ pm or pp if you'd like something more personal or feel like wildcarding. as always, happy to match format! ]
for fuck's sake ;)
An undignified yelp, the scrambling of a shape darting out of the path of the lightning--
"What the fuck was that for?!"
And Red Wine, who is never normally so ruffled but who has been out here almost every night since the last full moon - unable, or more likely unwilling to go home - leans slightly into view.
"I'm not a Shade!"