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: (Just another day in SC)
Moira has been stuck on a particular potion for almost an hour, now. She has all the ingredients cut up and crushed in a bowl; she’s added the water and begun to stir. But she can’t seem to quite get the main incantation that gives said potion, a rather simple cheering charm, or so she thought, its full potency. She’s said the words over a thousand times now, she’s pretty sure. And instead of the usual glow emanating from her hands into the concoction, she’s only seen half-hearted sparks flicker before fading away only a few seconds later.

She groans after her next attempt proves the same, putting the bowl on the counter as she grasps her head in between her hands, pulling at her hair in frustration. She doesn’t understand why her magic is acting up like this; it’s not as if she’s-

The thought hits her with all of the force of a speeding truck. Her face pales and her stomach knots; the world around her appears to stop on its axis, even the pleasant music in the store fading to near silence as she bolts up from her seat, going over that night with James in her head. Fuck, she thinks. Fuck! She hadn’t even thought of birth control spells, she’d been so wrapped up in James and their time together. And they definitely hadn’t waited for something as convenient as a condom. Because they were idiots too caught up in their lust to consider the consequences of their actions. Son of a bitch.

She pulls a violet-colored potion from off of the back stock shelf, her hands shaking as she tries to make a mental note to pay for it later. She tries to calm herself, tries to remember to breathe. It’s only a suspicion, she tells herself, its not written in stone. But she recalls the way she seems to have eaten her weight in food over the past couple of weeks, and the fatigue and general sense of heaviness as she went about her daily life. She cringes as she takes a swig of the potion, drains the bottle dry in one gulp.

And now, she waits, for a moment. It’s a long ass moment, giving her plenty of time to reminisce about that night and how utterly fucked she might potentially be, depending on the result of this magical pregnancy test. She tries to control her breathing, in and out, keeping her spine straight even though she is trembling all over. It’s then that the mist emerges from her fingertips, like stardust, gradually gathering into a cloud.

For a few seconds, the dust remains a myriad of pastel colors. Once it settles, it turns a mint green, which, in turn, steals all the remaining color from Moira’s face.

Fucking fucker!” She can’t help but yell, her voice no doubt echoing throughout all of Coombs & Co.

OOC: Yes, Moira's knocked up! Because her relationship with James isn't complicated enough as it is! So yes, I will be playing out the nine months of her pregnancy. At the moment, really only witchy folks who happen to be in Coombs & Co. at the time are going to recognize traces of the dust floating around Moira, who is going to try and keep it a secret from the town as long as she can, but knowing how Siren Cove works, that is most likely not going to end well. I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this but my internet's been spotty and I wanted to get it up sooner rather than later.

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