Morgan “chaotic awful” Morganson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
intendance) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
realpolitik2013-07-30 10:41 pm
intendance) wrote in realpolitik2013-07-30 10:41 pm
Entry tags:
Morgan | Morgan | 032
[Honestly, what she's doing here is exactly what she's always done. She's just carrying out her father's orders. The fact that she's killing her old friends, well...
It's a shame, it really is, but Father comes first. He's always come first. She may know them, faintly, but it's all trumped by the feeling of wanting to really, really make her father proud.
He wasn't the father she was used to, granted. Once upon a time, he had been so gentle, she remembered that. He'd be sweet and kind and had taught her all sorts of tactics--and now... Well, now she would just have to make him so proud that he would teach her tactics again. That would be enough, she thinks. That would be enough.
Which is why she surveys her army's formation with some satisfaction. They're Risen, which means that the strange army that has suddenly appeared will be able to take care of them relatively easily, but hopefully not before they kill the others. And...if not, she'll just have to take care of them herself.
Which is why she's not completely outside of the range of combat as she steps forward, spell tome clutched close. She doesn't expect anyone to get this far that easily, which admittedly is a miscalculation--and one she'll probably regret.]
It's a shame, it really is, but Father comes first. He's always come first. She may know them, faintly, but it's all trumped by the feeling of wanting to really, really make her father proud.
He wasn't the father she was used to, granted. Once upon a time, he had been so gentle, she remembered that. He'd be sweet and kind and had taught her all sorts of tactics--and now... Well, now she would just have to make him so proud that he would teach her tactics again. That would be enough, she thinks. That would be enough.
Which is why she surveys her army's formation with some satisfaction. They're Risen, which means that the strange army that has suddenly appeared will be able to take care of them relatively easily, but hopefully not before they kill the others. And...if not, she'll just have to take care of them herself.
Which is why she's not completely outside of the range of combat as she steps forward, spell tome clutched close. She doesn't expect anyone to get this far that easily, which admittedly is a miscalculation--and one she'll probably regret.]
no subject
Somehow. Nevermind that she's a she and apparently Robin is a he in this timeline.
But the second she shoves him back he focuses on maintaining his footing, stumbling backwards a couple of steps before instinctively raising his sword up to parry the incoming swing, knowing full well an overhead swing would be the most effective from her position. Another clang echoes into the distance as they lock blades, and after replacing his Thorin tome on his belt he finds himself gripping the hilt of his sword with both hands, struggling.
Apparently she matches him in strength too, which is really saying something.]
He's just using you! That's not actually your father!
[But with her pushing so firmly into their locked blades he suddenly gets an idea, sliding one boot further behind him before leaning back and suddenly twisting out of the way, hoping with him suddenly not in front of her and her pushing forwards so hard her own strength will at least cause her to stumble for a second. And in anticipation of that, he's already bringing the hilt of his sword snapping forwards, aiming to catch her right in the center of the chest with a sudden hilt-smash.
She's excellent, but he's just as confident in his swordsmanship after-all. Chrom is his father, and no Rightful King would be caught dead with anything less than top-notch skill with a blade.]
no subject
But she predicts what he's going to do, just as he predicts her.
This Morgan was, of course, never trained by Chrom. Her father married another, and so skilled swordswoman as she is, she isn't the Exalt's daughter. That singular title belongs to Lucina--and apparently, the Exalt's son to the Morgan in front of her. Regardless, it means she doesn't have the time or skill to bring her sword down to block the blow he strikes towards her chest, and she can't dodge either, off-balance as she is. It's a last-ditch effort, but she's good at those, and so she brings the tome she never quite secured away up to her chest as fast as she can.
The sword hilt slams into the book (which slams into her chest, still knocking the breath from her lungs), but it doesn't connect directly, and she supposes that has to be good enough. She staggers backwards, breathing harshly, not attacking in return yet as she takes the chance to try to gulp in air.]
He's...my father! And he's...the most...amazing person...you'll ever see!
[She scowls at him, but there's a hint of desperation there. If Grima isn't her father...it means her father is dead.
And that simply can't be.]
no subject
Maybe this means one of them can actually win. He just hopes it isn't her.
As she stumbles away from him he pulls the sword back up in front of him, tense and ready, but when he sees she's gasping for breath he takes this second to take in an extra breath himself. Fighting at a breakneck pace like this is exhausting, and while he's willing to bet the tome still works, he's still at close enough range to retaliate against either weapon should she suddenly try and switch things up.]
She is, I know. Well, he is. You know what I mean. But that's Robin, and right now? He's Grima, not Robin!
[There's a strange edge to his voice as he speaks that, a certain conviction to the wa he says it.]
Think for a minute, why would he up and start calling himself Grima for no reason? He's being controlled! [And although his sword is ready, if she suddenly tries to use her tome his other hand is drifting around his own tome, ready to switch at a split seconds notice.]
no subject
I know. I k-know.
[She knows that Grima has taken over her father...but she can't let it go at that. She shakes her head, expression pained, and points her sword at him, though she has no intention of attacking him with it. It's more for emphasis than anything; right now, she's too distracted by this topic to even think about the fight.]
He chose to become Grima. It was...It was his choice! And he must have chosen for a reason this way...
[It hurts to think. If he hadn't chosen that way, then he would...still be the father she loved so much. But he didn't. He chose otherwise. And she has to respect that. It's the only choice she has.]
I'll serve him regardless, because he's my father!
[And much like an animal backed into a corner, she lashes out, not with the sword but with the tome, as he expected. She has noticed that he seems to have the edge over her in swordsmanship, so she'll mix it up and throw a Thoron spell at him instead, hardly even taking the time to aim properly.]
no subject
That thought terrifies him more than any other. That might have been what happened in his past, and now he's suddenly not so sure he wants the rest of his memories back anymore.
But he knows that's not the case, knows Robin would never have chosen something like that that. And that's why he can't surrender here or give up, that's why he can't just leave her to her fate. He's the son of the greatest tactician to ever live and the Exalt himself, just as they're fighting right now to save everyone he's going to fight too.
And they're going to save everyone. Even her.
There's no time to speak though as she suddenly brings her hand up, instinctively dropping his sword onto the ground and yanking the tome free with his other hand. There's no time to switch weapons properly, and at this range there's only one thing he can really do. And that's level his hand right at hers and fire a Thorin off, full power, at the exact same time.
The resulting explosion hurts, because the next thing he knows he's skidding backwards along the ground on his side and the world is spinning, the result of two blasts of such power colliding being the single largest explosion to rock the battlefield so far. His tome is still clutched in one hand, but he's not even sure where his sword has vanished off to. Despite the soreness across his entire body he tries to get a hand underneath him, trying to force himself back up to his feet slowly.]
Robin... [Ow. Talking hurts.] Robin didn't get to make that choice...
no subject
Gods that hurt...
Would it be terrible, she wonders, to lie there? To not get up, not kill her friends, not lose everything for the sake of her father. Would it be terrible...?
Yes. Because then she would be letting him down.
Part of her knows that the things this other Morgan has said--well, they've all been true. She's always been honest, so she assumes he is pretty honest too. And it's hurtful. It hurts so much more than the scrapes and burns from the explosion...
But she lifts her head when he starts talking again. He's...still alive. He's still focused on this? Truly?
She doesn't move, not at first. Instead she just clenches her fists, biting her lip and closing her eyes as she presses her face to the ground. And her voice is hoarse, but--]
It's...it's not fair! I just...wanted him to teach me tactics again, like he used to!
[That's all she wanted. And here she is, sprawled on the ground, and she's doing nothing for him like this.]
no subject
If there's any chance- any that he can save this other Morgan from Grima... he's not going to give up. He doesn't stand up right away, only pushing himself up to one knee, one hand resting on that knee while his other hand grips his tome. It's too soon to tell if this fight's actually over, but while she's down he has no intention of attacking again.]
... I know. If mother stopped teaching me tactics, I'd be pretty torn up too. But maybe you can still get that back, somehow. Not like this though.
[He sucks in another breath, cringing slightly as he does so. Yeah, that blast took more out of him than he first thought, although he thinks he's still got some fight in him. The armor under his cloak isn't just for show after all.]
If your father is anything like my mother, he's probably still in there somewhere. I don't think even Grima could kill him! But that's why we have to save him from Grima!
no subject
None of them can possibly know it. And she takes a shuddering breath that's almost a sob again...and then he continues.
"Save him from Grima".
Oddly, despite her smarts, the thought never crossed Morgan's mind--probably because she always assumed that Father would fight until he was dead, and that didn't quite work out in her favor. Maybe it's because she's Grima's pawn in the end, and going against him never really was a thought either.
For whatever reason, it strikes a chord. And despite the aches and pains and the fact that it almost takes her breath away to do so, she immediately rolls to her feet--and stumbles, because that was way too much movement for how battered she is. She manages to catch herself on her sword, impaling it into the ground, and winces. And then she ignores all of that to stare at Morgan.]
...Do you really think so? Because if that's so, I'll do anything to help him...!
no subject
[He holds his position for the moment, knowing that with the distance between them if she tried to attack again with her sword, he'd have ample time to get back to his feet. No sense pushing himself too far too quickly, any mistakes could be fatal.
... that, and he thinks he's getting somewhere with this, that typical Morgan grin starting to finally return to his face although there's a far more determined edge to his tone than usual.]
I don't know all the details myself, but I was told enough. In our timeline, Grima wants to use Robin's body to revive himself. Herself? Itself. Whatever. Since this is the future, or a future or something like that, that's probably what happened.
... that's why we can't give up. We have to save the world, yeah. But we also gotta save Robin!
no subject
Then...if there's any possible way of saving him, I want to help! I have to do my part now, since Father has always done more than his share.
[She's determined now, and it would be more impressive if she wasn't using a sword to hold herself up--which she slumps against a moment later, torn between a sigh and a laugh.]
Boy, I'm glad I don't have to fight you to the death. I'm not sure who would win!
no subject
Yeah really, you pretty much fight just like I do and that's really saying something! Together I know we can win!
no subject
And she flops next to him, so they don't have to talk so loudly.]
Hmm...it sounds good to me! It's better than nothing, right? Besides...well, I think it'd be kind of nice to fight for something like that.
Something worth fighting for, and all!