Moira Coombs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chasingtwisters) wrote2014-08-22 09:16 am
chasingtwisters) wrote2014-08-22 09:16 am
Let the storm rage on. {Open}
The bus is an old, weathered piece of shit, one that really shouldn't be functioning still. Moira winces at the creaking noise every sharp corner pulls from the vehicle and the way the driver barely seems able to stay on the road. She keeps fidgeting in her seat and playing with her newly darkened hair, fingers curling around the piece of paper she clutches close to her chest. The island did her good in many ways: it healed the shock of the cruise, helped ease the burden of all the stress in her life, and helped her come to terms with being pregnant, with the exception of the morning sickness that still rules over Moira.
Yet, just two mornings ago, a woman named Blair, one of the elders of the island, brought her to one of the hidden springs, deep in the heart of the island. They'd done their breathing exercises and a couple of renewal spells, as had become their normal routine during Moira's time on the island. But then Blair had offered to scry with her, just a brief glimpse to check in on Siren Cove. Moira hadn't realized how much she'd missed home until then; fueled by a desire to see James, her sisters, and her cousins, she'd readily agreed.
Scrying with water had always been a bitch.
She never thought she'd catch a glimpse of her ancestor, one Viviana Coombs; but catch a glimpse of her, she did, and now, she's on a bus home, clutching the sketch Blair drew for her in her hands and trying to remember the breathing exercises from the island. But she can't stop thinking about it. Viviana Coombs could be her twin. Viviana Coombs, the one rumored to have started the curse in the first place. Moira can't tell if the nausea she feels is from the morning sickness or the shock running through her veins. And she has to keep it under control, for the baby's sake. The baby who, as the witches on the island had confirmed, would inherit some of the Coombs' powers as half a witch.
The bus finally screeches to a stop at the bus station in the center of town. Moira has to keep from leaping over the heads of everyone to get out. She misses her loved ones dearly, indeed, she realizes she owes them all an explanation, at the very least, but she needs to get to the library. Even as she can hear Blair telling her that the vision they'd seen was very much real, Moira wants to find evidence to the contrary, that she does not resemble her ancestor who might have caused the curse.
She keeps fidgeting as she makes her way through the line, her hands smoothing down the front of her loose blouse, disguising the small yet distinguishable bump of her stomach. She hopes no one with a discerning eye catches sight of her today.
She pulls her hood up over her head before exiting the bus, determined to avoid the inevitable mess of press that might await her. As soon as her feet hit the ground, Moira sets off at a sprint, maneuvering between people as she tries not to shove them out of the way. She needs to get to the library, needs to find evidence to reassure herself that she isn't the living image of a woman who once cursed an entire town.
OOC: Moira's back! Find her anywhere in town as she tries to make her way to the library. She'll be in a hurry, but obviously will stop for anyone who calls out to her. She's freaked out, but not nearly as badly as on the island. She's trying to cope with the fact that she looks so much like Viviana Coombs, so any friends will be greatly appreciated! Oh, and those with a discerning eye will recognize the slight bump on her now.
Yet, just two mornings ago, a woman named Blair, one of the elders of the island, brought her to one of the hidden springs, deep in the heart of the island. They'd done their breathing exercises and a couple of renewal spells, as had become their normal routine during Moira's time on the island. But then Blair had offered to scry with her, just a brief glimpse to check in on Siren Cove. Moira hadn't realized how much she'd missed home until then; fueled by a desire to see James, her sisters, and her cousins, she'd readily agreed.
Scrying with water had always been a bitch.
She never thought she'd catch a glimpse of her ancestor, one Viviana Coombs; but catch a glimpse of her, she did, and now, she's on a bus home, clutching the sketch Blair drew for her in her hands and trying to remember the breathing exercises from the island. But she can't stop thinking about it. Viviana Coombs could be her twin. Viviana Coombs, the one rumored to have started the curse in the first place. Moira can't tell if the nausea she feels is from the morning sickness or the shock running through her veins. And she has to keep it under control, for the baby's sake. The baby who, as the witches on the island had confirmed, would inherit some of the Coombs' powers as half a witch.
The bus finally screeches to a stop at the bus station in the center of town. Moira has to keep from leaping over the heads of everyone to get out. She misses her loved ones dearly, indeed, she realizes she owes them all an explanation, at the very least, but she needs to get to the library. Even as she can hear Blair telling her that the vision they'd seen was very much real, Moira wants to find evidence to the contrary, that she does not resemble her ancestor who might have caused the curse.
She keeps fidgeting as she makes her way through the line, her hands smoothing down the front of her loose blouse, disguising the small yet distinguishable bump of her stomach. She hopes no one with a discerning eye catches sight of her today.
She pulls her hood up over her head before exiting the bus, determined to avoid the inevitable mess of press that might await her. As soon as her feet hit the ground, Moira sets off at a sprint, maneuvering between people as she tries not to shove them out of the way. She needs to get to the library, needs to find evidence to reassure herself that she isn't the living image of a woman who once cursed an entire town.
OOC: Moira's back! Find her anywhere in town as she tries to make her way to the library. She'll be in a hurry, but obviously will stop for anyone who calls out to her. She's freaked out, but not nearly as badly as on the island. She's trying to cope with the fact that she looks so much like Viviana Coombs, so any friends will be greatly appreciated! Oh, and those with a discerning eye will recognize the slight bump on her now.
no subject
But she's also pregnant, and it appears that, even now, it still affects her magic, and so the spell doesn't actually work.
Moira realizes she's physically trembling and she thinks there's a good chance she might vomit on her cousin; in fact, at this rate, she kind of hopes she does.
"Did you learn your debate techniques in boarding school? Bravo, cousin," her voice has hardened to ice like the expression on Alodia's face. "I'm sure your father would be proud, that is, if he still remembers you exist."
no subject
Alodia's father has never been a particular sore spot. She'd written him off a long time ago, in fact, and only acknowledges he exists when she spends the money he sends to keep her quiet. She's vulnerable now, though, and things that ordinarily wouldn't so much as make a dent in her armor are suddenly hitting home.
"I don't have a father," she sneers, lifting her chin. It's been her mantra for years. "Which I guess we have in common, seeing as how Mommy Dearest murdered yours. Family ties always did mean so much to her, which I guess you've got in common now."
no subject
And all the while, her eyes are burning and she wants nothing more than to drink herself into oblivion.
"Fuck you," she spits out instead, her entire being trembling with the emotions she desperately tries to reign in. "That you would ever think I would actually kill anyone, least of all anyone in my family, for my own personal gain. Fuck you, Alodia."
The last part she decides to add because she can't stop the burning in her eyes.
"At least my father wanted me, and didn't have to pay me to keep from ruining his life."
no subject
"I didn't say that," she says cooly, "but I think the fact that that's how you heard it says quite a lot about you, no?"
And here is the proof that Moira's not nearly as good at this sort of thing as she is (Alodia feels a little burst of irrational superiority even through her anger): she's keeping the focus on their parents. And when the focus is on parents, the children of Violet Coombs will lose every. Single. Time.
"Maybe he didn't want me. My mother does, though, and she's not a murderous psychopath bitch who gets off on ruining innocent people's lives. Pretty sure I win in the parents department, cousin."
no subject
Moira realizes she has at least one form of power of her cousin, at least, no matter how small a matter it might seem.
"Get out," she tells her, her voice trembling with the weight of her anger. "Get the hell out of my house."
no subject
With that, she turns on her heels and stalks from the house, all the while giving the very cat-like impression that she is only leaving because she wants to, and certainly not for any such petty reasons as being thrown out. It's only once she's outside that she gives in to impulse and lets the door slam behind her.