chasingtwisters: (Considering)
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.
chasingtwisters: (Don't mess with a Coombs~)
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.

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