witchual: (a garden of fake flowers.)
Magilou ([personal profile] witchual) wrote 2019-07-30 08:36 am (UTC)

[ It seems like Mordred is treating her with some sincerity now, and even Magilou can appreciate that. She straightens up for a moment, regarding Mordred with an expression that's years more cynical than her cheerful persona just moments before. ]

Hey, I didn't ask you to trust me. Or expect it, either. If you put trust in people too easily, it'll end up breaking you. You know, the whole, "trust is like glass; if it shatters, there'll always be cracks" thing?

[ She shrugs and leans against the brick of her house, completely disaffected, her words detached and hollow. The markings on the back of her hand stare back at her, the slight burning she felt at their appearance still seared into her memory. The physical symbol of a contract should be proof enough that trust isn't always a bad thing. It is, in some ways. In others... it's never been that simple for her.

But the look is gone almost as soon as it appeared, and Magilou's voice is back to the jovial tone she always carries with her, as though she were pulling it from her pocket as easily as a rabbit out of a hat. Quickchange stage magic works with emotions, too! ]


If you'd like to put a name to the person you're sort-of-but-not-really-hating, it's Mazhigigika Miludin do Din Nolurun Dou - [ Said in one quick breath, of course, rolling off her tongue like the time of day. ] - or Magilou for short. Take your pick!

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