Too Little, Too Late? (Chyril 24rd, late MT)

[Morg]

Still unused to being viewed as a figure of power, Morgan smiled uncertainly at Joe as he pocketed the coins. If it had come to a confrontation, it was true that Morgan could have summoned the powers of the elements themselves to consume the man's body utterly and consign his soul to the Aether; but then again, Joe himself could probably have achieved roughly the same effect in a shorter time by punching Morgan on the nose while he was incanting the spell and then knifing him. Nevertheless, there was something specially intimidating about being able to inflict damage with magic, so he supposed he couldn't blame the man for being nervous.

"Goodbye," he replied to the thug, inclining his head towards the entrance to the stairs, "and good luck." This last was said with a twinkle in his eye. It didn't hurt to wish someone well, especially when you were a mage and could be accused of cursing people's crops. Reputation was just as important for magic users as it was for the hoi polloi, even though Morgan rarely paid it any heed.

Aerin seemed cheerful - more cheerful than Morgan, at any rate. The little expedition could hardly be said to have been a success by his standards, even if he'd come out of it with some cash in hand. Still, he didn't need to befoul the ladies with his own glum mood on top of the sewage they all wore like a uniform. When Aerin mentioned needing to get clean, the mage briefly considered offering to summon a jet of water energy to hose her down, but decided against it. It wasn't the kind of offer one made to a young lady one had only just met.

"Thank you for your help," he responded simply and with a smile. "It was appreciated." Aerin had helped, after all, even if Morgan was suspicious of her motives for doing so. "Just ask for Morgan Scrylock at the University of Magick if you need to contact us again." Next time you and Becca feel like going on another crime spree, perhaps. Morgan's moral compass hadn't pointed North for a good while now, but blatant theft, even from criminals, still didn't sit well with him. Her cheery disposition, and shapely form, however, went some way towards counterbalancing this.

Once she'd gone, Morgan turned to Becca with a weary smile. "Let's go home and get clean."

[Becca Acerbi]

"Thank you. Someone'll be sent to check on them later." Becca had no idea if that was true - but she had a feeling Elvin would be interested at the very least. She managed a smile for the men edging past her, feeling a little uncertain - men stepping to one side for her never happened - and managed not to point out that they should consider themselves lucky Morgan was even there to help when she chirped "You're welcome! Glad we could help." She sketched a brief curtsey to the men when she reached the top of the stairs, and crossed over to Morgan.

Becca hesitated, tugging at her ring absentmindedly while she inspected Morgan. The workers owed him a medal. Or at least a bloody huge reward. Still, seeing as that wasn't likely to be forthcoming, she'd have to think of something herself. Becca smiled and nodded to herself, dusting her hands off so she didn't feel quite so bad about catching up to Morgan (arguably the cleanest of all three of them), and grabbing his hand.

"Oh, I wouldn't have missed it for the world!" Becca said brightly, turning to grin at Aerin rather mischieviously. "If you need any help with your... Dresses, we're at the University. Thanks, Aerin." Becca waved as Aerin left, before turning back to Morgan. When he said that magic word, clean, Becca sighed dreamily, then leaned up and kissed him. "That? Undoubtedly the best idea I've heard all day. Let's go."

((Apologies for the delay, but I think we're fin now, right?))

[Turi]

Locked, skilled, summarised, archived.