voicetesting & maybe potential game

[youmayregretthat]

You would seek to reunite me with my sister at the cost of my magic and on some ship that does not sail through waters with countless perils you've already sent others upon.

You must forgive me if I remain skeptical if I do not believe that to be your sole intention.

Comments

[youwillgotohell]

Their intentions usually involve horrors, whether they admit to it or not.

...And despite that, it would be good to see you again, sister.

[youmayregretthat]

I can only imagine. I would expect a little more effort in such deception, however.

How have you fared aboard this ship, sister?

[youwillgotohell]

[That is a very strained smile; she doesn't really want to talk about any of it, but if she can't tell Morgause, who can she tell?]

Not well. The Barge is rarely kind, in my experience.

[youmayregretthat]

It has done more than take your magic then.

[There's a notable twinge of anger there though Morgause keeps a calm expression.]

[youwillgotohell]

That, at least, is returned.

[It's one of those things she always tried and failed to replicate; Morgause always kept better control of herself than Morgana could. She hesitates, again.]

Much has happened, since [you died] we last saw each other.

[youmayregretthat]

[From Morgana's tone and hesitation, Morgause is certain "much" isn't what she wants to hear.]

Go on.

[youwillgotohell]

[There's so much to tell; almost five years, not to mention her time on the Barge. There's the pit, the Sarrum, every choice she's made on her own. She thinks of the scars on her stomach and back, though, and knows there's only one thing to say.]

I failed.

[youmayregretthat]

[Morgause looks taken aback. For a long moment, she's silent, lips drawn into a tight, straight line. She's furious, a cold anger brewing just under the surface, but that is not for Morgana. For Morgana, she's disappointed. Morgause loves her sister, but she had placed all of her hopes in Morgana. To hear such news...]

[She's disappointed, but not resentful. She knows Morgana. She's strong and became most everything Morgause had wanted her to become. Her failure was not from a lack of trying or a weakness.]

Merlin?

[Not something she wants to hear, indeed.]

[youwillgotohell]

[Her mouth twists at that name, and she spits out,] Emrys.

The Cailleach told me he would - that he would be my doom. [She slows down, bites each word out.]

He has magic.

[youmayregretthat]

[Morgause frowns deeply.]

And yet he would protect Uther and Arthur...

Why?

[youwillgotohell]

[She just shakes her head, looks away.] Uther is dead. It's Arthur he served. Arthur he protected at every turn. Arthur he put his faith in.

[Arthur he chose, just like almost everyone else.]

[youmayregretthat]

To what end?

[Just what could Arthur possibly have that Morgana did not that he felt it acceptable to betray his own kind? Was he really fool enough to believe Arthur could be trusted or would someday learn to accept magic?]

[youwillgotohell]

He's the once and future king. [She couldn't sound more bitter if she tried.] One day, he'll return to rule again. [She doesn't say it, but her tone does: and she'll be dead, forever vilified - or worse, forgotten.]

[youmayregretthat]

[As if Morgause could not hate Uther, his son, or Merlin any more than she did before.]

This Barge is a second chance, is it not, sister?

[youwillgotohell]

So they say. A second chance, provided I give up everything I want.

[youmayregretthat]

And there is no way to deceive them?

[youwillgotohell]

Not that I know of. Plenty have tried.

Not even escape is possible.

[youmayregretthat]

We will figure it out. This won't be the end, sister.

[She takes Morgana's hand.]

I promise you that.

[youwillgotohell]

[AND SUDDENLY ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE AGAIN. She's definitely not clinging to that hand. She probably is.]

I need your help, Morgause. [She has no plan, not that much hope, but she believes in her sister more than she does anyone.]

[youmayregretthat]

You will be alright, Morgana. I will be with you soon.