non compos mentis; you things

[Jackel]

I am old.
I may not appear it, but I am.  

The kingdom of the giants always felt like home, even in the suburbs where their cousins lived.  I think most of the average peons call this the, ‘Forest’.  What a ridiculous name.  The smell of pine and cedar brings back memories that I’ve tried to forget a long time ago - when I was young and impressionable and a wee little Jacquelina - out of fear and necessity.  Out of fear for what fear might do to me.  The smell reminds me of them and the sound of the wind gusting past the branches reminds me of the lullaby they used to sing.  It was the same song they’d sing before the fangs grew and a flame blew out. Even if I didn’t like it then, it still feels like home now.

Now did I win? Or did I lose the battle of self-preservation?  That sounds like the grounds for a good debate.

Mmm, speaking of young. 

 I’m nearly certain I had some at some point.  But when you’ve lived for as long as I have, what’re a few bumps in the road?  I’ve come out the survivor.  And there may have been a wraith at some point, scrawny and twiggy and quiet.  I can’t remember where I put him.  I wonder, is there a place in Beqannanana to look for lost items?  Is that what the playground is for?   The other ones must’ve had a little more moxie in them, because I don’t remember them sticking around long.  Or did I not remember to feed them?

I wonder if I ever sang them my childhood lullaby.



@[Lyr] @[phaetra]  Idk I think she's just standing there

[Morgayne]

She is too old to be escorted around by her parents but sometimes she makes demands of them just for the sake of doing so. Morgayne is not truly manipulative but a child often learns how to ask things of her keepers in a way that has the greatest chance of getting what it wants.

I’m going to the forest, said she, biting at Crybaby until his serpent threatened her away.

I’m going to see who lives there--to Hatchetface--ask them why they live in the trees.

Bye.

So her family takes a day trip to the forest with Morgayne in the middle or just ahead, inserting herself vexatiously between her closely bonded sibling-parents whenever they try to have a conversation between themselves. When with the twins she speaks a smattering of the common tongue mixed with their strange secret language. She’s grown up with both and so communicates fluidly in between, using whichever best conveys her message.

Morgayne is the first one to spot the yellow and pink through the trees, and she kicks out at Hatchet who happens to be the twin between her and “Mom.” Its a statement, not a call out to the mare standing alone in the trees. The bubblegum girl slips away from the twins and trots over to the mare. It’s been a long time since she’s even bothered to spy on the mad creature. “Jackel.” Says the youngest of the woman’s children when she halts just out of reach to stare at her. Morgayne had wandered away from her at a very young age, and the boys have been her parents this past year and a half. The girl does not understand mothers, or what she ought to do when her own insane one is standing in the woods for no reason. 

sometimes i wish
we could be strangers

Morgayne