tomeofdespair

[tomeofdespair]

morgan takes after his mom AND his big sister.

well…. he TRIES to take after his big sis

[tomeofdespair]

morgan says get some sleep :)

[tomeofdespair]

otherworldly-healer​:

The professor had a tendency to get too focused when she was writing notes. This wasn’t her first foray into investigating ruins though. She knew that a monster or ancient construct could rear its head at any moment and had learned that the hard way. Understandably anyone would think she was in danger as she hastily scribbled down her last notes before acknowledging the golem headed her way. 

As the construct’s feet crashed against broken tile nearby a smirk crawled onto her face and she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Always an interruption. Just give me a moment, will you? You’re getting in the way of my studies.” She muses in irritation.

She begins to turn on one foot, but as she does she can hear a voice on a floor one level above her warning of the danger. She doesn’t let the surprise stop her for too long. The professor takes the staff she was using to illuminate the stone before her and turns it towards the golem. A bright light envelopes the ruins as Raine shouts “Light, Photon!”, and the golem flies back, its arms swinging wildly as it crashes to the ground.

“Here I thought I was all alone.” She mutters loud enough for the other to hear her. “It’s alright, I haven’t been hurt. Who is up there?” She tries searching through the rubble to find the source, but the voice seems to be coming from behind a pillar. 

he falls squarely on his rear as the light appears, startled, and shields his eyes with his arm. when it dissipates, morgan dares to peek, breathing coming heavy with the adrenaline of running and the excitement of such an impressive display of magic. he’d never heard of a spell like that before, though, and now... now he’s twice as interested as he was before!

he staggers to his feet and brushes sand off himself -- a small effort to look at least slightly presentable -- before poking his head into view. he has the largest grin on his face.

❝ that was awesome!! ❞ morgan cheers, momentarily forgetting himself. he clears his throat as he remembers he ought to answer who’s there and says, ❝ i’m glad you’re unharmed! my name is morgan. ❞ his eyes sparkle. ❝ could you teach me how to do that? i’ve never seen magic like that before... you blew that golem away with one hit! ❞

had he had access to his spells, he’d have offered to demonstrate his own skills with magic, maybe share pointers. but for now, his notebook is out and he’s ready to take notes...

[tomeofdespair]

as far as morgan is concerned the morgan of the chronolium is no more. it’s just this morgan, walking along a dirt road in ylisse, eyes peeled for a very rare bloom. he whistles as he walks. he’s not far enough away from humans yet, according to what nah told him, but he’s getting there step by step. he stops in his tracks mid-whistle: what was the flower called again? why can’t he remember?

re...memb...er?

his head aches as he tries to recall, though he’s not sure why trying to remember the name of the flower would be cause for a headache... shrugging, -- he’ll remember what it’s called at some point, right? -- he continues on his way.

@graveresemblance​​​ - starter call

[tomeofdespair]

fumetsuno​:

the nausea that had hit them all of a sudden was very alike what had first happened back when they had awakened in this strange world they were still trying to get used to. as far as they understood now it had something to do with the connection of their existence to the world but fushi didn’t fully understand it. either way, with the passing of time the nausea had lessened and it had been a bit since they had last experienced anything like it despite having regained control of their powers. which also obviously meant that the discomfort they were feeling right now didn’t actually belong to them.

following the sensation they had been brought to a young male laying sprawled on the ground seemingly without conscience. judging from what fushi had felt from him, he had probably tried to use some kind of power recklessly, branding him a fool. but who were they to judge. while at first considering just leaving him alone, fushi had eventually opted for bringing him a bottle of water to drink upon waking up.

upon their return they could immediately feel the sensation that had otherwise started to lessen return and a slight wince was visible on their face. “you’re awake,” they stated, not as a question but as a fact. “there are better places to take a nap than on the ground you know.” fushi reached a hand forward to hand over the bottle. “here. drink this. and please don’t try to do anything reckless again. it hurts.”

ah, so much for being left alone. head still pounding, morgan winces again as he moves his arm to see who’d spoken, sunlight filtering through the foliage and directly into his face. his blurred vision focuses long enough to make out a container -- what on earth was it made of? it was not like the flasks he’d ever seen... -- filled with water being offered to him.

he laughs lightly at that. there was no denying the ground wasn’t exactly the best place to pass out. ❝ you don’t say, ❞ he says. his mood has lightened, from sour to sunny just like that, and he sits up slowly. morgan doesn’t say it but... they remind him of his mother. that dry humor.

he takes the bottle a little shakily. ❝ i swear i wasn’t planning on hurting myself on purpose, ❞ he mumbles. this time. no attempts at jogging his memory via book... today. ❝ i just wanted to see if i could still use magic... even a little. i’m pretty useless without it, honestly. ❞ swordsmanship had always been lucina’s strong suit. morgan on the other hand considered himself lucky to even be able to lift a sword, never mind use it effectively.

he takes a swig from the bottle and sighs; the water is cool and does wonders for his headache. ❝ ahhh... thank you for this, ❞ he says with a smile, lifting the bottle. ❝ i appreciate the help. and the uh... warning. ❞ he straightens in his seat, tilting his head to one side inquisitively. ❝ have you been here long? do you know if it’ll go away? er, the pain, that is. ❞

[tomeofdespair]

superstxrs​:

—– ✰ MORGAN { @tomeofdespair } 

“H–Hey!!” 

the streets aren’t too busy - but they’re loud enough to the point that gregory isn’t surprised the stranger didn’t happen to notice that a book fell from their bag. he runs up to him, in an attempt to catch up to him - but he reaches down, snatching up the book that fell from the boy’s bag.

he holds it close to his chest for a moment, as he approaches him a tad cautiously. he holds out the book towards him after a few seconds, giving him a small, sheepish smile. 

“You- uh, you dropped this, I think…is this yours?” 

he really should have packed it more carefully. or repaired the hole he’s now seeing on the one side, perfectly tactic book size. the panic in his face is just as palpable in his voice when he squeaks, ❝ oh gods, yeah that is! ❞ morgan tries his best not to rip the book from the younger boy’s hands and only succeeds by a small margin.

tucking the book into the other end of his bag and blocking the tear with something less valuable, he adds, ❝ thank you for returning this to me. ❞ panic grips him again at the idea of having lost it forever... had it not been for...!

❝ thank you again for bringing this back to me. i’d like to repay you somehow! ❞ he offers his hand. his parents raised him with manners, after all! ❝ sorry, i didn’t catch your name? mine’s morgan. ❞

[tomeofdespair]

last minute post for this, i know

for this event, i have two memories up for grabs (aka two types of starters i’m going to write, lol):

memory #1: morgan during his time in servitude to his mother when she was possessed by grima (aka the future past timeline). for a quick backstory: the devotion he has for his mother has lead him to commit atrocities in her name, all with the hope that she will reward him with love and affection again. though he is loyal to her to a fault, he still longs for the day when she was the kind mother he remembers. this memory will be dark, and contain references to all the triggering topics i warned about in my application. i can tone it down obviously, but some of the topics will be unavoidable (apocalypse, violence/war, and the occult first spring to mind). the memory will start at the end of future past 1 after morgan has received a second copy of the tactics book from robin and will end when he returns to the dragon’s table to meet with the robin possessed by grima.

memory #2: a nicer memory! this one takes place during his nah support, where he travels to find a very specific flower in a very specific place at a very specific time... depending on how this memory is relived, he can either be successful in his task or fail (how miserably is up to you!) the memory starts immediately after he leaves to go find the flower and ends when he either succeeds or fails.

with that out of the way! if these interest you, feel free to like and let me know which memory you’d prefer to write! no cap for now (yes, i’ll write 15987 future!morgans if that’s what it comes to, lol)

[tomeofdespair]

it is a little rude to be slinking along the wall like this, tailing someone ( something? ) he doesn’t even know. he’d be the first to admit that it’s rude, if not downright creepy, really. but there’s something so interesting, so fascinating to him about the way that it moves; human-like, yet somewhat jittery like a windup toy soldier. he has to observe and examine and study and learn everything he can. who knows, maybe this is the next step in soldiers recruited for the grimleal’s forces? a new foe his mother will have to take into account when formulating one of her great plans? oh, morgan can see the look on her face now, when her so-smart-and-strapping-young-son tells her all about it and all the abilities it can use and--

he walks right into the back of his quarry.

❝ ahhhhhahaha.... s-sorry about that! um... ❞ oh gods morgan, think of something to say! ❝ i didn’t hurt you or a-anything, did i? ❞

some tactician he is! can’t even keep his composure when his back is against the wall... or, he thinks grimly, no longer against the wall.

@attcnds​​ - starter call

[tomeofdespair]

his fingers are pressed against the page of his arcthunder tome as he attempts to focus on the words, blurred from vertigo. the doom-and-gloom message on the device in his room didn’t mention anything about wanting to be sick every time he tried to cast a spell. he’d already tried with thoron to much the same result: nausea, accompanied by a migraine like he’d never felt before. surely something weaker like arcthunder would be okay to cast, right?

morgan shudders as he begins to read the incantation aloud, a tiny spark appearing in his other hand, but it quickly fizzles out and his vision fades for a moment. when he can see clearly again, he’s laying on his back, the tome next to him in the grass. he makes to sit up but is hit with another wave of nausea, so he lays back down and throws an arm over his eyes, groaning. 

❝ euuuugh. ❞

after a moment, he hears the sound of approaching footsteps. maybe whoever is walking by will take pity on him and leave him be... gods, his head hurts!

@fumetsuno​ - starter call

[tomeofdespair]

he hums in thought, idly drawing small circles in a notebook procured at some store or another as he sits, legs crossed, in front of the ruins of a forgotten temple. it was so much like the ruins he’d been displaced in that it was almost uncanny; no wonder he felt drawn to the place.

he squints in the bright light, eyes focusing on a glyph etched into remnants of a nearby pillar. he copies it down after studying it for a moment. perhaps if he studies the shapes long enough, a pattern will emerge, and he’ll be able to decode any secrets hidden from him by whoever built the structures.

an excellent plan indeed! except...

...when he glances up next, someone is approaching the ruins and while he normally wouldn’t pay it any mind, there is a massive golem approaching them. he scrambles to his feet ( nearly dropping his journal ) as he makes to slide down the dune he’d been sitting on and make his way toward the figure. halfway there it occurs to him that there’s not much he can to by way of fighting -- even with his sword, he’s no lucina when it comes to swordplay -- but maybe if he can warn them?

❝ hey, look out! ❞ 

@otherworldly-healer​ - starter call

[tomeofdespair]

time to even the odds! ... er, i mean, to put out a starter call.

no cap! :>

[tomeofdespair]

he steps lightly, silently wishing he’d tried being a thief to practice his footwork, hands poised to cup a significantly large insect that’s resting on the shoulder of someone unaware of its presence. his brow is furrowed in concentration, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, heart hammering like a stampede. he nears the bug and...

❝ got it! ❞ he declares, scooping it into his hands. he quickly peers into a gap between his fingers before closing them again so it doesn’t escape. grinning, morgan holds out his hands to who he’d scooped the bug off of and says, ❝ do you want to see? this little guy -- well, i guess he’s kinda big -- was just sitting on you! i can’t believe you didn’t notice it, actually... ❞

[tomeofdespair]

morgan of fire emblem: awakening!

robin’s son from the future, who also has no memories, and is also a skilled tactician... in the words of chrom, “this sounds familiar.”

loves bugs, but not the creepy crawly kinds, and especially not roaches. his favourite  bug changes from time to time, but right now it’s the ylissean screeching moth.

since he doesn’t have any memories, he has no “dark past” to tie him down, so he’s pretty upbeat about the whole thing... as long as he doesn’t think about it for too long, anyway.

speaking of which, you wouldn’t happen to have a really heavy book he could borrow for head hitting purposes, would you?

makes a really good younger brother (read: a little annoying). will follow you around and ask you a million and a half questions.

prone to setting traps to practice his tactical skills, including pitfalls. watch your step!

[tomeofdespair]

— Marcel Proust, Remembrance of Things Past, Vol. 1

[ text ID: If a little dreaming is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less, but to dream more, to dream all the time. ]

[tomeofdespair]

Morgan babi birthday

[tomeofdespair]

birthday kids 💞

[tomeofdespair]