isleofavalon | [OPEN] the stuff of montages

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original: cecelia ardenbury

[OPEN] the stuff of montages

🧙 WHO: Cecelia Ardenbury, OPEN
⚔️️ WHAT: A space for magical training/assessment and the viewing of the Calamity (ref: network announcement)
🕒 WHEN: Oct
🗺️ WHERE: The Ambassador office (Camelot), Red Spring, End of the World
⚠️ WARNINGS: In subject headers as needed

SIGN IN HERE is written just above the lines of names and dates of previous visits.

There is a small table setting by the window on the opposite side, where tea is still piping hot and waiting - just in case anyone is inclined to it. Miss Ardenbury prefers spiced, robust dark brews to anything light or floral, so novice tea tongues beware.

Where once was an empty wall is now a length of engineer's drafting paper, and upon it is the sketching of two views: One, the top-down topography of the calamitous end of the world; the other being a more man's-eye view of the location. There are a few representations of the fluctuating starburst in the sky as well, alongside some peculiar, indecipherable shorthand notes in small, neat lettering.

Miss Ardenbury herself sits at an oak desk further in amongst her stack of borrowed books and personal journals, likely still scratching away or having herself some of that tea. She doesn't even look up right away to greet - the bell was signal enough for her to call:

"Do be sure to sign in, thank you. What business do you have here today?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Morgan shook his head. "Oh, I'm not talking him down. He didn't answer my question, sure, but he actually had some very helpful and insightful suggestions and advice. It did me a ton of good, anyway. But aside from asking other people, I want to know what you think."

They have their philosophical differences, sure, but Morgan never let those bother him. And he knew for certain that Cecelia's opinion on the matter was worth his weight in gold.

What she thinks, huh? She'd remark that whatever she thinks doesn't have much weight, all things considering. But he likely already knows that and just...wants to know, for whatever reason. An extra insight or missed theory? There can be theories for days and days, but...

"Mm." She closes her eyes. "The thing is...it's not impossible to be changed to your physical core. Your magical core. It just takes a lot of effort.

"The prospect that our 'true' forms are still frozen where we last were, and that we are some kind of copy of that existence implanted into appropriately designed vessels for this world...seems the most likely, the one that uses the least amount of energy to perform en masse like this.

"But I don't have any proof to back this. No philactories, no secret...warehouse of waiting vessels, no...conjuration circle within the belly of the castle." She pauses, then, flatly: "That anyone's aware of, that is."

"All we have now is circumstantial evidence anyway, but even circumstantial evidence can build a case. Any observations, then, that might lend support to the theory? Or discredit it." Morgan cracked a little smile. "I'm totally cool with being wrong, you know."

She raises an eyebrow.

"From what you've told and shown, you're 'totally cool' with a lot of things," she counters, her tone still flat...but not entirely devoid of fondness. Despite herself, she's still come to appreciate the kind of reality (or nonreality) check a character like Morgan provides.

"Harmony," he said, smiling her way as he bowed his head slightly and touched his fingers to his forehead, his heart, and the base of his sternum. "And paradox. But I'm the one wanting to learn from you."

Of course, that was always a two-way street. You can't teach without learning. But he suspected she didn't see it (as in, basically everything) the same way he did.

She hums a soft, thoughtful note, falling quiet for a beat.

"While I'm generally not opposed to sharing what knowledge is mine to share..." Within reason. With restrictions. Caveats. "There's very little I have full confidence in where speculation is concerned. I'm not much of a gambler - I avoid it where I feasibly can - and so I cannot throw my hat in this or that idea until more evidence bubbles up to the surface, you see."

Morgan, despite the air he presented to others, was not flawlessly in-tune with himself. For example, right now a part of him wanted to snarl in response to her statement. It missed the whole point, that part said! She was just refusing to take a side, playing distant as ever, and dodging any role in the question and the greater crisis!

What Morgan had learned, however, is where that part belonged. A younger him would have snapped all that out immediately; a more foolish him would ignore it entirely. Instead, Morgan set that part aside, considered its message without a tone, and resolved to work more on integrating it into his whole.

It had a point, he thought, inasmuch as he didn't believe Cecilia would offer up everything she had without qualification. Or that she would strive too much to assume neutrality on the subject, taking neither position without absolute proof. She would filter information when he needed all of it, because they saw the world in two very different ways.

But it wasn't out of malice, or folly. Because they did see the world in two very different ways. And so long as they could find their places to agree, that was fine.

"Fair enough," he said, as if that entirely mental monologue hadn't flashed through his head in that moment. (Which to be fair, it hadn't. Not in words, anyway.) "Then if you come across anything you believe might be of interest, I ask only that you relay it to me, objectively and without judgment."

That last bit pulls an unexpected, small smirk out of her. She lifts her chin up off her hands, sitting back in her chair.

"Objectivity will be right out the window should I relay anything to you, Morgan Knight," she replies, an airier note in her tone. "Because the simple act of sharing shows you a bit of favoritism, mm?"

"Oh don't give me that. You can be totally biased in who you tell and still unflinchingly neutral in what you tell."

He might hope she did regard him well enough to bestow such favor upon him, though. At this point... well, he'd like to think his actions spoke for him, but at the same time considering how they kept running into each other she might very well get conditioned to associate him with disaster.

With what little levity offered dismissed in such a way, Cecelia's expression reverts back to neutrality.

"As you say. Very well."

Aww, he was trying to banter back. He'd be sad if he knew she took it that way!

"I really do appreciate it. And I owe you one, if there's something suitable in the way of a favor I could do for you in turn."

She shakes her head.

"There's little need for that. Owing, not owing..." She gives a light, dismissive gesture. "Even if I were to be inclined to keeping score, I imagine you've already done me enough as far as favors go. If anything, the proactive application of information is the only thing that really matters, yes?"

Morgan sat back, shrugging broadly with theatricism. "Oh, it's not like I'm keeping track either. That's the great thing about friendships, completely forgetting what the tally is on either side. Quite aside from our common goals, here!"

"Then perhaps, dear Morgan," says Cecelia, completely stoic-faced, "you needn't consider the need for an exchange. Be assured that should I discover something that merits sharing, it will be shared. Though...know that I'm not very keen on spreading around speculative notions, not without enough merit behind them, in any case. It just adds more noise and confusion."

Morgan nodded swift agreement. "Definitely. I'm keeping this thought under my hat till I have some solid proof. People don't need the grief of an identity crisis on top of everything, especially just a speculative one." Not everyone was simply prepared to decree that they were a person even if they were a copy, after all. Even people in much better situations to hear it than those in Avalon.

"I doubt I need to assure you I'll do likewise for your sake--" She arches an eyebrow. "Such gossip does me no favors, after all."

"You mean you're NOT a fount of endless gossip?" Morgan slapped his hands to his cheeks in incredible faux-shock. "I can't believe it!"

"Believe as you wish," she retorts lightly, sitting back in her chair. "Makes little difference to me as it is, mm? I'd have to be privy to the sort of places where gossip has meaning, but as it stands..."

As it stands, being Ambassador does not grant one seat at the king's table. And that's irritating for her.

"And you're definitely not a high-school cheerleader." Though gossip counted in politics and offices too... "Truthfully, you're the only person I know who is positioned to have an insight and is perfectly trustworthy, so I can't imagine what I'd gain from talking to anyone else about it anyway."

"That's disheartening," she scoffs, flicking her gaze past him and toward the front window. "Are there really no others among the outworlders who are reliable?"

"And positioned to have an insight." Morgan's tone wasn't sharp, per se -- perhaps simply more heavy, with emphasis. "Plenty of people are trustworthy, but you must admit your position is rather unique."

"It doesn't give the leg up you would imagine," she says, a touch flat, her eyes flitting down to the bangle on her wrist. "At least, it shouldn't, so long as many take advantage of what this trinket can do for them.

"But very few seem keen to, more focused on the day-to-day, or...whatever nonsense of the month crops up. And as far as access to more details from the crown? It leaves much to be desired."

"Those are important too, those details." Morgan did his best to work both ends, and was particularly grateful for the strength and energy to do so. "I really do wish we were more in the loop, though. We seem to be just... average citizens, all things considered."

"Average citizens tasked with the private mastery over magic not born of ourselves, at that." No, she doesn't like it a bit. And that's to say nothing of the members of the outworlder community who never encountered magic before!

"No, it's...not an ideal situation, to say the very least. Though at this stage I'm wondering how much push I can do before I am ultimately shut out by the effort."

"A good question." One he had faith she could answer, though, if she were careful. And very patient. "That's why I'm not engaging on that front -- I'm not nearly as good at that sort of thing as I need to be. Would you believe it's so much easier to get a good, fair deal for everyone involved when everyone is only looking out for themselves?"

That was business, at least how Morgan conducted business, and it had served him well. Politics such as kingdoms and titles, well, that was not much good at all.

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