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[Cause I suck at describing layouts. . . I made one for Cass's apartment which is probably bright and vivid, and colorful, and influenced heavily with artsy decor and influences from places especially Italy. It's basic though I modeled it after an actual NY apartment layout I found, the doors are the brown strips and the windows are the gray strips, but anywho. . . enjoy: http://i.imgur.com/kPAVLzZ.png ]

 

 

Feb. 25th, 2017

11:30 A.M.

 

 

Three days had passed since Cassandra had met Morrigan at Kells and invited the veil-crossing woman to stay in the extra room of her apartment. The plan had been to introduce Morrigan to Alistair immediately in hope her brother could help figure out ways to get her situated in a foreign world given she was transported here with nothing to her name. Unfortunately, Alistair had been exceedingly busy with ARMA business, and Cassandra's own schedule didn't to line up with his for any downtime, but the upside to it was getting to know Morrigan. Helping to teach her things — as best she could — about this world was interesting. Answering questions about things that were just normal to her while completely new to Morrigan was at times both awkward and difficult, but nevertheless always brought a smile in the end. Luckily, she'd come up with an easy solution to aid helping the woman learn: books, newspapers, magazines, documentary DVDs,  and the Internet were all useful tools.

 

Cassandra made sure to leave money for Morrigan incase the woman wanted to go out while she was at work; not wanting to leave her restricted to the apartment. When coming home Cassandra would bring things from more books or magazines to various types of food or drink; wanting to introduce her to as many things as possible early on to help the veil-crossing feel less overwhelming. She'd even started introducing her to fictional works here and there, and made sure to her one or two places besides Central Park that could be visited if the need to be closer to nature became strong — homesickness was something Cassandra knew all too well.

 

While it'd only been three days, Cassandra had tried to make them entertaining, and productive, as possible cause of the wait. She hadn't heard any complaints or seen any signs of frustration from Morrigan in regards to the delay, but Cassandra still feld bad. Today though Alistair would be home and it'd be a slow so she'd left him a message on his machine the night before.

 

ALI! It's Cass. Listen, I've had a veil-crosser staying with me for a couple days or so, and was thinking you'd be able to help her out. She might even be an ARMA interest. Come here tomorrow around noon? I'll be making chicken florentine lasagna so you can bring the wine. Oh, and sorry for the missing books! I've been borrowing from your shelves, but I promise they're safe. Love you, big brother!

 

Now, it was approaching noon — half an hour until actually — and the lasagna was in the oven baking. Cassandra figured that if Alistair showed early then he and Morrigan would have at least 30 minutes to get acquainted before the food was actually ready. Of course that also meant Morrigan would have to return home for that to be possible. The veil-crossing woman liked to be gone in the early hours to escape being cooped up in the apartment for too long; completely understandable given the world that she'd come from before finding herself in the concrete jungle.

 

Cassandra took another look at the clock before deciding to just go change out of her pajamas. Both Morrigan and Alistair had keys to let themselves inside anyways.

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"No, tis too formal," Morrigan remarked as an outfit of silver and violet was draped across another's arm for her appraisal.

 

A few moments later and another was cast before her eyes. The only way it managed to remain on a 'hanger' was by invisible lines of magic; else the knee-high boots would have crumpled to the floor followed by the tiny bottoms and the nipple covers. "Twould give the wrong impression, Dear."

 

The fiery red head blinked her rainbow-speckled eyes in silence for a moment. "The wrong impression? Who invited you to dinner, the Pope?"

 

This from a woman with barely much mroe covering her body. It hardly came as a surprise, however. Morrigan had caught a glimpse of something in the window and slipped into this quaint shoppe only to find it staffed by what Humans would call a 'Demon.' A slender tail wiggled out from the back whenever she slithered around to retrieve another set for her customer's examination.

 

With a soft sigh the thin thing scampered off once more.

 

What a curious little woman, Morrigan thought to herself. Obviously not from this 'Earth,' herself. Or was she one of those blended hybrids Morrigan heard of? A rather energetic thing; which was just fine with the Magess. Plenty of time for seriousness and eyes that had beheld far too much bloodshed and loss. After all these years she was beginning to feel as if she were a Dragon -- a creature that lived so long and saw so much that the every day activities and humors began to fade. This Demon and Cassandra were far from dour or stoic; they smiled so readily and seemed so well integrated with the society around them. At times Morrigan envied how easily they reached out or trusted others.

 

"Ah!" A soft cry preceded the cream-colored woman resurfacing with a long, dark dress held aloft for consideration. The broad smile stretched her pretty lips. There seemed to be a charge of energy about the fiend this time.

 

Morrigan considered the dress before she reached out to feel its fabric. A soft, contemplative hum followed suit. Well tailored. Not flimsy, thin, or transparent. Covered the 'erogenous' areas while still providing plenty to look at; after all, there was no need to hide. She wasn't the one that might be caught staring at herself after all. This outfit was much more the sort she might wear, even if the fashion of this world was as alien as its cuisine. "How much?" Her golden eyes lifted from the flowing, black fabric to the fiendish attendent.

 

A mischevious twinkle in the young thing's eye caused Morrigan's eyes to widen a bit.

 

 

Ten Minutes Later...

The door swung easily open and Morrigan stepped out onto the sidewalk. Slowly she reached down and gave a light tug on the ends of the long gloves that stretched up her forearms, and wiggled her fingers to flex the mateial. A passing of the wind caressed the upper portions of her exposed limbs and the tear-drop cuts over her breasts and belly. It brought a smile to her dark lips as she let her fingers glide over the material that clung to her like a second skin. Something told Morrigan the impish girl had been rustling about the back closet for something 'special.' Of course Tatjana had been monitoring for anything overtly magical in nature -- she was willing to tolerate the mischief, but not at her expense later.

 

The boots clicked over the concrete surface as the raven haired woman turned to make her way... home.

 

It was strange thinking that Cassandra's could be a home on this planet. Or that Morrigan would have a home at all. She'd been roaming from one camp to another for so long she'd practically forgotten what it was like to stay any one place for long. Yet the year was young. There was enough time for things to go wrong. Should she devote herself to avoiding that fate? Should she embrace it? It was a difficult question, but perhaps... she would like time decide her fate. And today's lunch. If Cassandra's sibling found Morrigan unworthy the decision might be out of her hands.

 

One step at a time. Story of her life.

 

 

Twenty-five minutes later...

After Morrigan had made her way through the streets once more, she found herself in the hallway leading to Cassandra's place. Head held high, the lithe woman mentally prepared herself for the meeting to come. Not only was this Cassandra's sibling, but the leader of a Mage faction of this world. Not that she felt particularly desperate to join a Circle on this planet, but even Morrigan wasn't a one Mage army. Allies were important. ARMA seemed a fitting choice. More so than the Order -- if Cassandra's representation of them was accurate -- despite their interest in darker arts, she lacked the ambition of domination. One could never tell of the future, but in the present it was so.

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After replying to Cass' text in the affirmative, Alistair's next few hours had turned out to be... eventful. It was a constant fact of his particular career that the worst of the nasties - both human and not - tended to come out after dusk, and that meant a lot of late nights. It just so happened that the one he ended up having after agreeing to go to his sister's house at noon was one of the longest. He wound up stumbling into bed somewhere around seven AM, so when his reminder alarm for Cass' little... dinner-lunch party thing went off at eleven, the Commander of ARMA was still dead asleep.

[alistair]Oh what the...[/alistair] he growled, snatching the phone off his dresser, eyes widening slightly when he saw the alert on the screen.

[alistair]Fuck.[/alistair] he finished, with no small emphasis, and he tossed the phone viciously against a pillow before pushing himself up off the bed and rolling off it. He did, if only barely, manage to land on his feet when he came off the bed, so that was something.

About fifty minutes later Alistair stepped out of the stairwell at Cass's building (being a magus he had developed an inherent mistrust of non-shielded elevator controls) stifling a yawn. He had a few baguette loaves and bottles of wine in a cloth bag at his side, as well as a six pack of coffee-heavy stout that he hoped would kill two birds with one stone. It wasn't often he had a dinner party that also involved a possible recruitment, and either way he needed some chemical assistance for the day. If this recruit was expecting someone terribly formal and perfectly put together she was probably going to be disappointed. Alistair hadn't had a haircut in a few weeks too many, but otherwise he cleaned up well enough in a burnt-orange button down and black pants, his usual black duster coat overtop.

He knocked on the door in his usual pattern (it was Jingle Bells, though not many people knew it), then managed a tired smile when Cass answered. [alistair]Hey sis... smells good. Brought stuff.[/alistair] He held the bag up for her to take before he walked in, almost immediately shucking his coat and seeking a chair to crash into.

[alistair]Ugh.[/alistair] was his lone statement of how the day was going. [alistair]How're you?[/alistair]

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[OoC Note: Idea of decor HERE. Living Area look still not finished, but just imagine end tables, coffee tables, BAF bookshelf, and walls the same green color as the green birds on the rug.]


Morrigan hadn't returned yet.

That was the first thing Cassandra noticed after stepping out of the hall into the living room and rounding the large bookshelf separating the living area from the dining area. While she'd been relatively quick getting ready, it had taken a little longer than expected and that neither Alistair or Morrigan was here surprised her. Tugging a few curls loose that were stuck in the cowl of the knitted, green nearly knee-length sweater before heading to check on the food again.

By the time Alistair's signature knock was heard, she'd just finished placing the hot dish on a ceramic cooling board in the middle of the dining table. Giving the set table another look to be sure utensils hadn't been forgotten before calling out "Coming!" and hurried toward the door. The sound of shoes wouldn't be heard as the only thing on her feet were knee-high white, fuzzy socks with tiny Christmas trees over candy cane striped leggings. No jewelry, no makeup, no accessories - even brown curls were just put up in a bouncy ponytail. This was Cassandra comfortable in the only place where she could be herself and felt safe that wasn't Alistair's apartment.

As a precaution, she glanced through the peephole to be positive. It was unlikely anyone else decided to use Jingle Bells as their signal, but being too careful never hurt. After a second she unlocked and opened the door.

[cassg]Knew I could count on you to bring goodies,[/cassg] Warm words to go with an equally warm smile as she took the bag and gave him a quick hug. [cassg]Close the door, but only do the main lock. Morrigan should be back soon. Want one of these beers? I've got a couple of those frosted mugs in the freezer.[/cassg]

Unlike Alistair it was clear Cassandra had been up awhile and there was an energetic pep to her step. The windows with thrown open curtains showed off wintery sunlight enhanced by multi-colored, blinking holiday lights and spray-on-snow scenery of a miniature winter wonderland environment was only more evidence that she was in a good mood. There was a documentary about touring Italy on the television; clearly something filmed well before the event that changed the world.

[cassg]It's a great day. Woke before dawn to finish prepping the lasagna, popped it in, and did a little yoga. Then I showered, changed, and here I am. Even did up the table all nice the way Mom used to.[/cassg]

There was a little sadness in the curve of her lips at that thought; holidays passing making those feelings a bit fresh and raw.

[cassg]How are you, big brother?[/cassg]

Placing the baguettes on the table and the wine in the fridge to chill along with the six pack.

[cassg]You can put something else on. I was feeling nostalgic and well. . . Morrigan likes documentaries. Been using them as a teaching tool. She should be back soon.[/cassg]

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