chasingtwisters | Entries tagged with location: moira's cottage

Moira wakes up in the middle of Thursday night with severe pain and the certainty that she's in labor. Her maternal and witch instincts come together as one to tell her so. She spends a few minutes freaking out before she has the sense to call her midwife, a local witch she met through one of her customers soon after she remembered herself. Lila, prompt as ever, arrives nearly thirty seconds after Moira hangs up, teleporting into her living room as they agreed upon.

She spends hours in labor, clutching at the sides of her tub as Lila helps her through it, with magical and comforting words both. Above all else, Moira is terrified. Terrified that she'll be an awful mother; terrified at the sorts of powers her daughter will inherit. Terrified that anyone might try to harm her daughter because of who she is and where she comes from. It sends shudders running through her just as much as the pain does.

"You're almost there," Lila shouts at her. "Come on, girl. Push!"

---

Now the middle of Friday afternoon, Moira sits on her porch, cradling her beautiful daughter in her arms, bundled up in a lilac blanket and dozing. She's texted family and friends, of course, and she's waiting to see who shows up. Moira can't bring herself to look away; her daughter is so precious and small. She's perfect. She's still worried, of course. But more than that, Moira is entirely overcome. She has a daughter. A beautiful, wonderful daughter. And she loves her the way she's never loved anyone else before. She knows that deep in her heart.

"Welcome to the world, Bronwyn Rose Coombs," she whispers for what feels like the millionth time that day.

[ooc: Moira's daughter, Bronwyn Rose! For those curious, this is what Bronwyn looks like. Feel free to have Moira texted your pup if they're close, or to see her on the porch with Bronwyn! Open to all!]

Since her confrontation with Aoife in the cafe, where she had been trying to make an effort with her brother, Moira's felt ill, and not with morning sickness. Her sister hates her; her cousin hates her. What else is there but for the whole town to hate her, too? She has to contain her magic as she runs back in the direction of her home; yet sparks keep flying from her entire body regardless, and she knows people are staring.

When she finally reaches her cottage, she runs right past it, to the beach that is her backyard. She finally collapses, out of breath, into the sand. She chucks her jacket and her shoes off into the dunes before she falls over and pukes what little she's eaten for breakfast; she cleans her mess away with a wave of her hand, just as the tears, hot and heavy like the anchor that is her heart inside of her, start to spill down her cheeks.

As she cries, the sparks flying from her channels into something deeper; a more ancient part of herself that calls out to the sea. The waters respond with resounding clarity.

The skies darken and the waters churn; to anyone casually glancing towards the ocean, it looks like the start of a hurricane. Moira stares as the water gradually raises and the winds start to blow. Rain starts falling in time with her tears, and Moira just stands there.

She can take the anger; hell, she can take the dirty looks. But her own sister's words seep into her skin like so much poison and all she can dwell on now is the curse she'll pass onto her daughter simply for being a Coombs.

OOC: Moira has reached her breaking point. It is her magic causing the storming sea and clouds; it's basically only happening around the beach on Moira's property, but, obviously, it's still really noticeable. She's really, really upset right now and could really use a friend or, at least, someone to talk her down.

As soon as she listens to Amelie's voice mail message, Moira feels guilt and anger wash over her. Of course, Fabrice was bound to realize the truth of everything, everything he knew before the attack and the cause of said attack to begin with. She knows, currently, he's still holed up in that hotel Amelie brought him to, shutting himself away from the world and trying to come to terms with what happened. Moira's visited to make sure he's eating, and to put extra spells and wards around his room; she also managed to sneak in his cats to him, which at least brought a smile to his face. She hurts, still, seeing her cousin like that, cocooned in blankets and with a face whiter than the moon.

It fuels her now, as she pulls various books and ingredients from her cabinets and bookshelves. She has everything set up on her coffee table, parchments and instructions, as well as the wand she barely uses anymore. She is not hesitating to pull out all the stops; she wants Violet to hurt, as much as she can cause hurt to a mother who also happens to be one of the most powerful witches in town.

"Fuck," she mutters, clenching her trembling fists by her sides. She has to keep herself from rushing things; honestly, she could set fire to her mother and feel no remorse, as her emotions currently stand. Her stomach churns, with morning sickness, she suspects, and she winces, hating that she has to balance her pregnancy with everything else going on right now. She sets her face in a stern line and resumes her work.

OOC: Find Moira at home, working on...rather intense magic as she plots to strike back at her mother. She probably needs someone to talk her out of doing anything stupid.

I was born with lightning in my heels.

Angel on my shoulder but the devil always won.

Entries tagged with location: moira's cottage

And baby makes two. [Open for all; tw for mentions of birth but nothing graphic]

I tip my cap to the raging sea. {Open; tw: mentions of vomit, emotional distress}

A careless beast was bleating that the air behind was breathing. {Open}

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