exsiliumlogs | It's a jolly 'olliday wit' you...

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It's a jolly 'olliday wit' you...

Date & Time: day after the timey-wimey stuff ends, about noon.
Location: Top of the hold
Characters: Morrigan Aensland, Gordon Freeman (possible guest starts may be various roommates or people who might want to be on the roof)
Summary: cute attempt at picnic, possible revelations of various things
Warnings: may contain angst, drama, makeouts. Will contain coffee and pastries.

The day is its usual overcast, but for a bit, it isn't raining.

And on top of the hold, Morrigan has managed to find a blanket that she spread across the concrete, an umbrella in a stand that she rigged up, and has a small lap-table she found, on which is a coffeepot, some coffee cups, and some pastries.

And Gordon Freeman has a message waiting for him:

I think I got the coffee right. Please come to the roof of the hold about noon to see if I did. -- M.

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Still sore as hell from the beating he took from Ionae's super-sized alter ego and his head still clattering with loose memories from the psychic beating that Zagreus gave him, Gordon was hating his job right about lunchtime. Hail the conquering hero, now rerun those calculations and go get more paper for the printer...

When he got the message, he immediately took lunch, and after talking to a few others on the way to the roof he decided that "Lunch" was probably going to last the rest of the day if he had anything to say about it. Nevertheless, he emerges from the stairwell hatch with a tired grin that turns into an amazed, head-scratching chuckle when he sees just the extent she went for this.

The message is clear; you've outdone yourself, Morrigan.

[She's wearing a light top with a faint pattern on it, hard to tell in the overcast just what it is, and an ankle-length peach skirt. As Gordon arrives, she sits up from her lying-down position.]

...Ye look a sight! I suggest ye set down, have some coffee and somethin' tae eat, and let me fuss over ye.

Gordon hadn't even remembered to slither out of his labcoat on his way up to the roof. Seeing her lounging there would make any man stare, and this one is no exception. "--Hm? Oh, I don't think you need to go as far as to wait on me."

He says this, but he does sit in an awkward limbs-too-long folding kind of motion.

[Morrigan watches him sit, smiling, pours him a cup, then pauses.]

An' how do ye take your coffee?

[Her hand hovers over two small cups, one with lumps of something crystalline, and the other with what might be milk.]

"Black, this time."

It often changed depending on his taste. But mostly he wanted the excuse to lean across her and steal a kiss as he spirited the cup away.

"See? There are perks to serving myself."

She blushes a little.

"Ye're a shameless rogue. 'Tis good I like that in a man."

She makes herself some, as well, adding three of the little lumps and a bunch of the milk-stuff.

"So... ye said ye had something tae tell me when ye came back."

He relents, settling a bit better onto the blanket and leaning on the bricks behind them. Even the change in topic doesn't weigh down his mood... much.

"...I'm sure you've figured this out by now, but there's a little more to me then I like to talk about. I'm not even sure what to call what it is I do, but... well, the easiest way to describe it? 'S that I'm the man who does what no one else is able to do."

"That probably sounds pretty damned arrogant, but to explain it would take a while."

"Well, there's arrogant, and then there's a man who's done things and got the proof of it in his skin and his soul."

She shifts to sit next to him, and reaches out and runs a finger against his hand, along a healed but still visible scar.

"Ye walk into danger because ye must, because that's what ye do. There's a word for it, for someone who does what must be done no matter what it costs him." She moves to lean her face over his.

"Ye're just a simple hero, Gordon Freeman."

And before he can object to the word, she kisses him firmly.

Indeed he was GOING to protest, but the kiss leaves him speechless, breathless, and without a track to run his train of thought along.

Would she be so quick to call him a hero if she knew that it was his own two hands that brought hell upon his world? That his status as a "hero" is perpetuated by force by a machiavellian creature that any sensible material being would consider evil?

He doesn't know. And he's glad he's kissing her rather than mentioning it. His lips linger longer than the original surprise, and he reaches up to indulge a few fingers slipping through her long hair.

Edited 2013-02-05 20:09 (UTC)

Or maybe some strange creature might have manipulated events to make a weapon and got a hero instead, one who may mess up those plans? Who knows.

Instead, she just kisses him a bit, making a soft noise in her throat, and then breaks the kiss (leaving her lips against his) as she says, "So I suppose the coffee's acceptable, then?"

Yes, she does have that merry look in her eyes as she says it.

"What coffee?" He jokes, then pretends to notice it in his hand again with a fake oh will you look at that and takes a drink finally with a chuckle.

"...It's perfect. You didn't practice too much at this while I was gone, did you? The thought of you in a fit of caffeine jitters IS admittedly kind of adorable, but I doubt you'd enjoy it."

She sits up. One of her hands has his hand that is not coffee-laden.

"I actually asked someone for help. I said I was hopin' tae get a job in the Hold helpin' and that coffee-makin' skills would be a benefit. I did try it, though, and... no one told me ye didn't drink the whole pot at once."

She lowers her voice a little.

"How hard was it for ye, doin' what ye did?"

That deserves a quiet laugh with an embedded omigod. He didn't think he'd actually be right. He squeezes her hand. "Yeah, it's not like tea in that way. Although from the sounds of it you like the taste, so there's hope for you."

The other question sobers him up a bit, and it takes him a moment to put his thoughts together. When they emerge, his voice is a little lower and quieter as well.

"To say that it was the hardest thing I've ever done doesn't really do it justice. In fact, to say that implies that there could possibly be something I'd done beforehand that was close to it. There wasn't."

He sighs, and glances out over the misty cityscape before returning to her gaze. "An experiment I'd been working on went very wrong. It compromised the barrier between our world and its borderworld, letting all kinds of monsters through that we weren't prepared to defend ourselves against. Meanwhile over there something decided that this was an excellent time to amass an army and take advantage of the free real estate.

"I had no idea any of this was going on; at first I just wanted to get the hell out of there, fighting my way to the surface, scavenging weapons where I could find them, navigating in circles only to wind up exactly where I started..."

Edited 2013-02-06 00:51 (UTC)

She squeezes his hand.

"..if it's too hard to talk about yet, ye can stop. I dinnae want to upset you. I wanted to give ye a nice distraction from troubles."

Then she closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath.

"...even if I may add tae them in the future."

"No. I'm fine." He takes another drink of his coffee. "In a way it's hard to believe everything that's happened, and, hell I don't know, maybe telling the whole thing will make it seem that much more real--"

He's stopped by her quiet utterance at the end.

"What do you mean?" He notices the nervousness and puts an arm over her shoulders. "I don't think that it's physically possible for me to have a problem with you. So don't worry."

Her face pales, as she realizes that was not the inside voice. She bites her lip.

"....I... may not hae been entirely forthcomin' with ye about meself. Mostly from fear, and worry, and wonderin' what was goin' on here. Because I dinnae know what tellin' ye everythin' complete and total might make ye think."

She pauses, and when she speaks again, her voice is very soft.

"...and I'm findin' it terrible fearsome to think about what tae say, but just as terrible tae hurt ye by leavin' ye hang."

"...If it's that much of a problem for you, I'm willing to wait."

But he IS curious now. What could she possibly have to hide? Maybe... maybe she's the one that conducted all those experiments and not doctor what's-his-face! She's the mad doctor; he was just a face to attach to medicine labels because an old man selling the things led more credence! That's the only thing that made sense! Oh god, that would be...

Strangely hot, actually.

"But come on, it can't be THAT bad." He adds with a renewed smile and another shoulder-squeeze.

She looks down at the ground for a moment, then looks at him.

And a pair of bat-like wings slide out from under her hair, framing her head.

"...I'm nae really human," she says, as if that wasn't quite obvious now.

So much for mad-scientist-girl fantasies. Gordon actually stares at the wings for a quarter-second, his brain cycling the information around and unsure how to parse it. Once it reaches the right velocity it slams directly into his uncanny-valley response, and he lurches back with an incomprehensible noise of surprise. The coffee, sadly, goes flying and the cup clatters across the roof a short distance. He stares, wide-eyed.

"...what... I... Those are bat wings. On your head." He just wanted to establish that. You know, in case she didn't know. "If, if you're not human, then what ARE you?"

She looks abruptly angry, then sad. As Gordon watches, a second pair of wings come from behind her back, these lower, just above waist level.

"I'm, well... I'm a succubus. My name really is Morrigan Aensland, and I really did see most of the things I told ye. Even lived through some o' it. I just..."

Her lower lip quivers. And she finds herself very surprised to not be acting.

"...I just was not sure what tae to, and so I hid myself until I knew what was really goin' on. And then someone was kind to me for no reason except bein' a good man." She stands up, turning away from him, so he can see that her shirt rose up where the wings came out. "And now I've been a bad girl, and careless with a good man." She takes a step away. "I'm sorry."

"Wait a minute! Morrigan--" He gets his long legs under him again and stands.

"Just don't, don't go yet. Give me a minute. You're really a succubus? No, stupid question, I guess there aren't too many other things you could be, but I don't--You don't act anything like one!" Beat. "I mean it's not like I've MET very many, but I, I uh..." He flounders and runs a hand over his hair, gazing at her bewilderedly where she stands in her shroud of wings.

"If you're a succubus, then... what does that make me?" The man who always asks questions seems almost afraid to ask this one.

Edited 2013-02-06 04:32 (UTC)

"I dinnae even ken anymore what ye are. A flirtation, a guide, maybe even a bit of a snack - I wouldnae killed ye, I feed on dreams and nae souls unless I want to - and then these things, these glasses... I dinnae know why but I could see so much of ye, inside, and I could nae think o' ye that way anymore!" She spins to face him, and her cheeks are wet.

"I was lookin' for a wee bit of fun and some explainin' of what happened and instead... I found a man who dinnae realize his own kind heart." She smiles at Gordon wanly.

"Ye couldnae be prey for me, Gordon Freeman. And I couldnae lie tae ye anymore."

Oh god. Even with those strange wings arrayed around her, the sight of her in tears is physically painful to see. He wants to say t'hell with it and just hold her, but...

"You feed on dreams? Everything I've read or heard about succubi tell a very different story. How... how do I know you're telling the truth about that?" He doesn't sound vicious in his mistrust, he WANTS to believe her, but he's a man constrained to his empiricism, especially when his potential death is a consequence.

Edited 2013-02-06 05:42 (UTC)

"I'm the most powerful born in centuries, and at that level o' power, souls dinnae mean much. But dreams, especially strong ones, that's power enough for me. Sex dreams, aye but the worst and most black o' nightmares, the best moments of the soul, I can take power from them. It makes them less harsh, and the sleep nae so good, but unlike lesser ones, I dinnae need to feed on souls or ride men in the night tae steal their essence." Her wings wrap around her as she hugs herself like someone with a chill, and her headwings do the same, almost forming into a hat.

"And were I so cruel, i could hae left ye in the city, drained and near death, or stuffed ye in a garbage chute to nae be found. Ye were that close to me, Gordon, and I didnae even try."

"I broke Dmitri, and Jedah, and even faced down Doom hi'self. But I cannae fight you... and so p'raps best I go."

She hasn't gone yet, because she needs, at the least, to hear Gordon's dismissal to make things complete.

"...My god. That's right, you could have." Hell, a single word from her and he would have willingly let her take him the very first night she came. "But... you didn't."

Dull shock turns into a softer expression, a small half-smile as all the right pieces fall into place. He covers the distance between them, shouldering out of his labcoat and letting the damn thing fall to the ground.

"No. Don't go. I'm sorry, Morrigan. I didn't--" By the time he's done flimberting he's within her wingspan, and reaches out to draw her face up towards his.

I... think I ought to keep better to the advice a beautiful woman once gave me about judging on appearances."

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