The Trickster in action -- interlude fiction
It was dark in the Winters' den, the fire having burnt low. Morgana sat in the armchair, gazing the embers with an empty, weary stare. Her empty glass sat on the small table beside the armrest, and she flicked it idly with one slender finger, producing a clear bell like tone. Over and over.
Tiiiiing.
Lucretzia's company was carrying on, even without her, and it seemed like it was going to at least transition from crackpot theory into actionable product... maybe she'd be able to focus on that, in time, and forget about gallivanting beyond the borders of known space. Maybe she wouldn't go die somewhere, unknown and alone, and leave her mother never knowing where her daughter had gone.
Tiiiing.
Anastasia. Morgana knew where she had gone, in vague terms. Once, she would've applauded her, when she was younger, full of patriotic zeal and the arrogant sense of invulnerability she had been bred to. Now she felt nothing but fear - clawing dread. Something awful was going to happen, and her daughter was going to be in the middle of it. Because of things she had been taught by her fool of a mother.
Briiiing! Briiiing!
The sudden chirping of her phone startled her, and she jerked to grab it, sending the glass tumbling to the floor with a crash. Fumbling with the buttons, she answered, even as the door opened and her butler hurried in. Waving him away, she managed to control her voice as she greeted the silent caller. "Hello?"
There was a moment without response, and then her heart fell as she heard a man's voice. One she knew, from a lifetime ago. "Morgana."
"Don't! I don't want any part of your cause anymore. Where is my daughter? Where is Ana?" Her words came too fast, too desperate, and she knew she sounded weak and foolish, like the sort of woman she'd have sneered at in her youth.
The man on the far side of the line didn't seem to care. "I was calling to warn you not to get involved with Federation business - out of courtesy for who you were. Ana is her own woman now, you know that."
"Keep my daughter out of your schemes, you snake!" She tried to say more, but he cut her off.
"I'm not going to debate with you, Morgana! I haven't forgotten our dream, and neither has your daughter. You would've been proud, back when you were still strong! This is your only warning to stay home, otherwise what happens next is on your own head."
The line went dead with a click, and Morgana sank into the chair, a profound numbness spreading through her as she did. She wanted to weep, tears pushed at her eyes and she refused to let them fall.
After a moment of silent, stifled sobs, she looked to her Butler, who had quietly begun to clean up the glass without a word. A consumate professional and lifelong friend, and she said, simply, "Loki has her. Whatever connections we still have... activate them... and warn the delegate from the Black Hills."
Taking a slow breath to steel herself, she rose, walking to her desk. She wouldn't let the folly of her youth destroy the future for her daughters - not while she had life left in her, or any cards left to play.
---
The brisk air of Solaris after a rainstorm was blowing in from the north, tousling Anastasia's hair as she gazed out over the city of Solaris. Leaning against the railing of the abandoned warehouse, she whistled tunelessly as she watched the dropships come and go from the distant Black Hills.
Fedrat transports, pretending they were kin with her countrymen. It made her sick.
Footsteps resounded off the concrete roof, as a man strolled over to join her.
He sighed and lit a cigarette in a practiced motion, before leaning against the railing and casting his gaze up at the sky. "She wasn't very receptive."
Anastasia laughed, her a dry, mirthless chuckle. "Of course not. All she can see is her precious little household, falling to ruins around her - not seeing how the Fedrats are digging away at the foundations even as they pretend that we are equals. She stopped fighting for the future the day Father died, and she's never looked away from the past since then. I love her, and I will always be thankful to her, but I can't be bound down by her weakness."
Nudging the suitcase by her foot, she added, "Besides, we're too close now. No time for distraction - so don't you worry about it. We've tried to warn them - now what comes is on their heads... we can't hold back. Not if there is to be a future for the Commonwealth - if our way of life is to continue. One family is... a small price to pay." Her lips twisted in a bitter smirk. "If you want to blame anyone, Mother, blame the Fox and his lackeys. They were ever the agents of destruction, and you should never have accepted their bargains."
The man took another drag on the cigarette, and then flicked it, unfinished, from the rooftop. "Well, they'll all see that, before long. We should get going."
Ana nodded, and pushed off from the railing, picking up the satchel with a soft grunt, throwing it over a shoulder.
"That's right, we should. The seeds of change won't plant themselves, now will they?"
Chuckling humorlessly, she strolled from the rooftop, and into the darkness.
Tiiiiing.
Lucretzia's company was carrying on, even without her, and it seemed like it was going to at least transition from crackpot theory into actionable product... maybe she'd be able to focus on that, in time, and forget about gallivanting beyond the borders of known space. Maybe she wouldn't go die somewhere, unknown and alone, and leave her mother never knowing where her daughter had gone.
Tiiiing.
Anastasia. Morgana knew where she had gone, in vague terms. Once, she would've applauded her, when she was younger, full of patriotic zeal and the arrogant sense of invulnerability she had been bred to. Now she felt nothing but fear - clawing dread. Something awful was going to happen, and her daughter was going to be in the middle of it. Because of things she had been taught by her fool of a mother.
Briiiing! Briiiing!
The sudden chirping of her phone startled her, and she jerked to grab it, sending the glass tumbling to the floor with a crash. Fumbling with the buttons, she answered, even as the door opened and her butler hurried in. Waving him away, she managed to control her voice as she greeted the silent caller. "Hello?"
There was a moment without response, and then her heart fell as she heard a man's voice. One she knew, from a lifetime ago. "Morgana."
"Don't! I don't want any part of your cause anymore. Where is my daughter? Where is Ana?" Her words came too fast, too desperate, and she knew she sounded weak and foolish, like the sort of woman she'd have sneered at in her youth.
The man on the far side of the line didn't seem to care. "I was calling to warn you not to get involved with Federation business - out of courtesy for who you were. Ana is her own woman now, you know that."
"Keep my daughter out of your schemes, you snake!" She tried to say more, but he cut her off.
"I'm not going to debate with you, Morgana! I haven't forgotten our dream, and neither has your daughter. You would've been proud, back when you were still strong! This is your only warning to stay home, otherwise what happens next is on your own head."
The line went dead with a click, and Morgana sank into the chair, a profound numbness spreading through her as she did. She wanted to weep, tears pushed at her eyes and she refused to let them fall.
After a moment of silent, stifled sobs, she looked to her Butler, who had quietly begun to clean up the glass without a word. A consumate professional and lifelong friend, and she said, simply, "Loki has her. Whatever connections we still have... activate them... and warn the delegate from the Black Hills."
Taking a slow breath to steel herself, she rose, walking to her desk. She wouldn't let the folly of her youth destroy the future for her daughters - not while she had life left in her, or any cards left to play.
---
The brisk air of Solaris after a rainstorm was blowing in from the north, tousling Anastasia's hair as she gazed out over the city of Solaris. Leaning against the railing of the abandoned warehouse, she whistled tunelessly as she watched the dropships come and go from the distant Black Hills.
Fedrat transports, pretending they were kin with her countrymen. It made her sick.
Footsteps resounded off the concrete roof, as a man strolled over to join her.
He sighed and lit a cigarette in a practiced motion, before leaning against the railing and casting his gaze up at the sky. "She wasn't very receptive."
Anastasia laughed, her a dry, mirthless chuckle. "Of course not. All she can see is her precious little household, falling to ruins around her - not seeing how the Fedrats are digging away at the foundations even as they pretend that we are equals. She stopped fighting for the future the day Father died, and she's never looked away from the past since then. I love her, and I will always be thankful to her, but I can't be bound down by her weakness."
Nudging the suitcase by her foot, she added, "Besides, we're too close now. No time for distraction - so don't you worry about it. We've tried to warn them - now what comes is on their heads... we can't hold back. Not if there is to be a future for the Commonwealth - if our way of life is to continue. One family is... a small price to pay." Her lips twisted in a bitter smirk. "If you want to blame anyone, Mother, blame the Fox and his lackeys. They were ever the agents of destruction, and you should never have accepted their bargains."
The man took another drag on the cigarette, and then flicked it, unfinished, from the rooftop. "Well, they'll all see that, before long. We should get going."
Ana nodded, and pushed off from the railing, picking up the satchel with a soft grunt, throwing it over a shoulder.
"That's right, we should. The seeds of change won't plant themselves, now will they?"
Chuckling humorlessly, she strolled from the rooftop, and into the darkness.
Head GM :: Only GM :: Pay your bills :: Harmless
It's all fun and games until someone loses their HD.
It's all fun and games until someone loses their HD.