fictionalized | log; welcome to roland, morgan

[She really does have no idea where she is, that's for sure. The sort of surroundings around her are at least somewhat familiar, having been in a number of upper class dwellings in both Ylisse and Ferox.

But...the air is different here. Something isn't quite the same. Idly, she squints into the dark, calming herself, and--yes, it's much easier to see the spirits that Zohra always--

Zohra.

It's a rush of memories of a time she'd almost forgotten, somehow, and it almost gets her killed. A second sense, a survival instinct that has kept her alive on countless battlefields, saves her now. She drops to the floor immediately, blade whistling right above her head to stick harmlessly into the wall with a quiet thud.

And she scrambles to her feet, reaching for her tome, but it's dark and she's not an assassin; this isn't the best situation for her, combat-wise, and she knows it, hissing out a startled--]

Gods--!

[At the voice, Zohra—who was here for personal reasons and thought he sensed an assassin, which would be problematic for him—here. However, he knows that voice, and now that he takes a closer look at his target, even in the dark, he realizes that he knows that figure too.

Isn't that—]

... Morgan!?

[As he speaks, eyes wide, he steps out of the shadows.]

[...The voice is a huge relief. (At the same time, a part of Morgan's brain catalogues it and notes that she's very lucky that that knife didn't even knick her; she knows Zohra uses poison).

But she sighs, all tension going out of her body as her shoulders slump in total relief, and she steps closer towards Zohra.]

Zohra...! Oh, thank goodness. I have no idea where I am--

[...she pauses, frowning and looking around.]

...How did I get here?

[He's still looking a bit tense, not sure how to handle this situation.]

That's what I wanna know... Seriously, why are you here? Shouldn't you be back in your own world or something?

[Morgan isn't looking much better, honestly. There's so much that she doesn't understand about what's happening here, and it unnerves her a little. Seeing Zohra cheered her up, but--]

I...should be, I think.

[...er.]

I was, last I remember, but my memory isn't very dependable.

No kidding... but honestly, you shouldn't be here. C'mon, follow me. I'd better get you out of this place before anyone sees you... Geez, I don't wanna have to explain why some strange girl is with me.

[He beckons for Morgan to follow him, before turning on his heel.]

[...well, she'll follow him without complaint, because any response to the contrary is just a bad idea. She's aware enough to know that. So she follows silently at his tail, or as silently as she can be, anyway.]

...

[yeah, she's pretty glum.]

[Zohra moves without a sound through the darkness, occasionally checking to see if he still feels Morgan following behind him—before stopping after a short distance.

Under his breath—]

Stop.

[... From here, Morgan can probably hear the cries from somewhere, and accompanying them, lewd cheering.]

[In a situation as tense as this, the thought of arguing with Zohra doesn't even cross her mind. She trusts him, and so she stops, arms wrapped loosely around her spell tome (both wrapped around it for comfort, but loosely for combat readiness).

She's not sure she likes the atmosphere around them, though; it doesn't seem very inviting or conducive, and Morgan's quite clever brain is remembering now all of the things Zohra has told her of his world at home.

It's not a pleasant list.

And so she bites her lip but stays silent and Zohra seems so wary.]

[Again, in a quiet voice—]

Be ready to fight.

[That said, he himself doesn't pull out any weapons, but instead silently and slowly moves towards the source of the noise.

And there, voices can be heard:]

C'mon, don't be so rough. It's no fun fucking a corpse, after all.

Ah, sorry, sorry. I couldn't help myself...

[She's not as naive as she often seems. For all of Morgan's cheer, for all of her clueless happiness, Morgan has been in war. In fact, war is all she remembers of her life. Her earliest memories are of tactics, and everything else is the battles and struggles and war.

War isn't pretty. It could be said her cheer is a coping mechanism, and perhaps it is; she wouldn't know either way. But what she does know is exactly what's going on just before them, and what they are moving towards, and that is why she pales.]

...

[She doesn't say a word, but she can't help the brief exhalation that signifies her fear--even as she loosens her grip on her spell tome and prepares for whatever horrors are waiting for them.]

[At Morgan's exhalation, Zohra looks over his shoulder, giving her what he hopes to be a reassuring smile.]

Don't worry.

[Frankly, he's too used to this kind of thing by now. He knows what they call the Hidden Elites. Monsters, perverts, lunatics, people who don't know how to function outside of war and can't be trusted around others—and really, they're all true, even if Zohra doesn't entirely appreciate being lumped in with them. In any case, there's a reason he's never especially enjoyed his few team missions and having to work with his colleagues, even before he began defying the country.

Still, perhaps because this is all fairly normal for him, he wants Morgan to be at ease. Things will work out. Even if the Hidden Elites are geniuses, the two of them are even more so, he knows.]

[It's almost more unnerving, the fact that Zohra is reassuring her. He's smiling at her and reassuring her, and while it works, there's still a level of knowledge here--this is all wrong.

Morgan knows, but all she can do is weakly smile in return.

Because if you smile enough, eventually it'll be true that you're happy. Because empty-headed bliss is her one good skill, the one virtue she has.

Because that's all she can do; she can smile back at Zohra, and trust in Zohra, and so that's what she does, taking a deep breath and letting the tenseness drift away slightly--though she stays tense enough to be battle-ready.]

...Thanks.

[She won't say more than that, here and now, because she's too busy being ready.]

[Zohra doesn't say any more, instead again silently approaching their destination: a room with mostly closed doors, leaving only a crack to peer through. By this point, all signs of his presence have been erased, as if there's one thing he's good at as an assassin, it's concealing himself.

Looking through the crack, the expected scene is visible—a group of men, dressed in the same uniform as Zohra and all a fair bit older than him and Morgan, with their disgusting laughter as they stand over terrified women, stripped of their clothing.

Typical Hidden Elite behaviour, really.]

[Just because she's used to a situation like this doesn't mean she enjoys it. Morgan, when she gets her glimpse of what's going on, looks quite a bit pained--it's horrible, and she can't do anything about it.

It's all wrong.

But she stays as silent as she can, hardly daring to breathe, while she tries to follow Zohra's lead as best she can.

It's tough...but pained and pale as she looks, she doesn't say a word.]

[After ascertaining how many there are, Zohra makes a motion that he hopes Morgan will interpret as "back up", though either way, as he begins drawing a magic circle, the meaning should be clear.

There are new noises behind the door now, as the Hidden Elites seem to realize that someone is there, but by that point, Zohra has completed the circle as he chants the incantation for Izuchi—and so blasts the door down with a lightning bolt, because he might as well make their entrance flashy.]

What the—who the hell are you two!?

[Zohra holds his hands up in a "we come in peace" gesture, except that contradicts horribly with what he just did, so.]

Ah, sorry for disturbing your little party here, guys. But the thing is, I still need these nobles for something, so I can't have you acting against them right now.

[He glances at Morgan.]

You're also making my companion here pretty uncomfortable, so I have to do something about that as well, you see?

[...She doesn't know what he's doing, but she never even thinks to question it.

Zohra's lightning slams into the door, and Morgan is right by his side the moment he walks in--and it warms her heart a bit, what he says. Doing something like that, all for her...?

It's times like this that Morgan remembers why Zohra is one of her best friends, even despite not having known him for very long at all, relatively. It's because Zohra doesn't always state that he cares, but you can't miss his gestures that show just how much he does. It's because Zohra is here, amongst people like this who are perfectly content to be scum--and he decided he wanted to do better.

Reasons like that make Morgan remember why she felt that flash of relief when Zohra showed up, when she was lost and confused. She was still lost and confused--but just seeing Zohra was enough to comfort her.

And maybe that's good enough.

So despite herself, despite the gruesome scene, she's smiling a little, chin up and head held high, because she's with Zohra, and everything is going to be just fine. She'll just have to remember to find a way to thank him later--once again.]

[One of the Hidden Elites stares, before pointing a knife in their direction.]

Haa? What the hell are you talking about? You and that girl looking to be fucked too, brat? If not, then stay out of our—

[In a flash, Zohra takes out a hidden dagger and throws it at the man, piercing through his neck before he can finish that sentence.]

Hey now, hey now, don't you know you shouldn't be so crude in front of women like that?

[And as he withdraws another dagger and the Hidden Elites ready themselves, the signal to Morgan should be clear.

Time to fight.]

[It's clear enough.

In a way, Zohra's actions surprise her, if only in their cold and brutal ruthlessness. But another part of her, the larger part, is admiring just that. Zohra's strength and abilities are a definite asset when it comes to battle, and Morgan won't ever regret that.

And thus it is that she takes a page out of his book. Knowing from him that magic that doesn't require an incantation or the drawing of a magic circle is unheard of in Roland, and thus Morgan spreads open her spell tome and launches an Elfire spell right into their midst.

The element of surprise will only work once--she wants to make it count. And thus there's a sharp grin on her face as she casts, despite the tenseness of the situation.]

What the—!?

[And indeed, it catches the Hidden Elites off-guard, as one of them is caught in the fire. At that, Zohra grins, and without wasting any more time, he withdraws another dagger and rushes in.]

Let's go!

[He and Morgan are outnumbered, yes, and the Hidden Elites are far from pushovers—and sure enough, despite their shock, they quickly regain their bearings—but he knows that they can do this.

After all, he's the genius who went up against over a hundred soldiers alone and survived—and she's the one who won the right to be called his rival.]

[She follows easily, because they're paired up now, and that necessitates working together and in tandem. But she's automatically registering the people before her as they rush in, analytically taking in their weapons, strengths and weaknesses. Most seem to prefer sneaky weapons, unsurprisingly; she doesn't see any axes.

And thus, without the assistance of the weapon triangle, she sticks to spellcasting.

She whips out her thunder tome; elfire is stronger, but she prefers thunder and its surprising jolt. And so she charges after Zohra, sticking close behind him, and fires off rapid spells as she watches his back.

And she can't help her victorious crowing as she scores a particularly good hit.]

Checkmate!

[Zohra lets out a low whistle at that, though he can only spare a moment's worth of attention.]

Who the fuck is this bitch—!?

[Given the number of opponents, casting magic is inefficient for Zohra. As fast as his spellcasting is, his opponents aren't nearly stupid enough to give him the time for that, so he might as well not risk it, especially when physical combat has always been his specialty either way. Fortunately, he can leave the magic to Morgan as he moves with his dagger, trusting her with his back.

Still, as he clashes with a Hidden Elite, without looking back, he asks Morgan—]

Think we should give them a chance to surrender?

[And watch his back she does, viciously so, in fact. For the most part she manages to keep any who approach far away with her barrage of spells. When one does get close enough to strike at her, she lifts up her tome, allowing it to take the blow. She couldn't dodge, as she is protecting Zohra's back, but the tome does well enough as a makeshift shield.

The dagger bites into the cover deeply, but in the next moment, even with the position of the book so awkward and unconventional, Morgan is firing off a Thunder spell right into his face.

She shakes off his screams, glancing over her shoulder with a smile that is cheerful and bright and utterly out of place in this situation.]

If they waaaant to! I don't mind tying them up tightly and leaving them all in awkward positions!

[sparkle sparkle]

Ah, well, I don't have any rope on me, unless you do. But...

[He manages to hit a pressure point of his opponent—might as well avoid killing them if he can.

Then, to the other Hidden Elites in the room—]

Hey! Do you sorry bastards have any idea who I am? No? Well, I'm sure you've at least heard of me: the sole Hidden Elite whom the country sent over a hundred assassins after, only to end in the failure?

[There's a flash of recognition in their eyes, at which Zohra grins.]

And I'm sure you've already seen this girl's magic—ah, how scary, she's so fast, how do we defend against that? you must be thinking, right? Then run away. Take your friends here and run now, unless you want us to shatter your precious pride into pieces!

Ah, shame. It would've been good fun.

[For such a nasty comment, her smile and expression are perfectly benevolent. She holds her spell tome loosely now, because Zohra's scare tactics are working brilliantly, and she doesn't sense much aggression left. Of course, she's absolutely prepared to launch another spell at a moment's notice--

But for now she's smiling, because they stopped the bad guys! That's something worth being glad over.

(It helps that Zohra basically has complimented and cared for her more in the past thirty minutes than he had in their entire stay at Haven.

That helps.)]

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