#no but for real nisa's dad gets on my nerves

[dengswei]

i love this drama

[nelllraiser]

ONE OF US. ONE OF US. | morgan, bea, nisa, demir (if you squint) & nell

LOCATION: the vural home PARTIES: @beatrice-blaze, @mor-beck-more-problems, @nisavurcl and @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: nell: chanting. morgan: nervous. bea: sipping her wine. nisa: priceless.

 Greg had safely been taken care of, and Nell was doing one last sweep of the house to make sure there were not traces of him left absolutely anywhere now that her mother was coming over. The last thing she needed was for this to turn into a debacle about demons, and the coven, and so many other things that her mother loved to remind her that she did wrong. “Bea!” her voice rang out through the house, trying to locate her sister. Her tone was more strained than usual, the stress of their family matriarch coming over taking its toll. “Bea, where are you? I think Morgan’s here!” Indeed, Nell had heard a knock on the door just a few moments ago, and went to open it in welcome of the other witch, or perhaps her family. But hopefully, Morgan would get here first.

Bea had always cared about her appearance, but she had to be extra diligent about how she looked in front of her mother. Picking an appropriate outfit had taken most of the afternoon and after dinner was placed in the oven, she had to go and double check that her makeup was perfect. At Nell’s call, she fixed her hair one last time before coming out of her room, where Dia was staying for the evening. She didn’t want to have to worry about the cactus cat ripping their curtains in front of her mother. “I was just fixing my hair, calm down,” She said, though she held a nervous edge to her own voice. As the door opened and she saw Morgan, Bea grinned at her. “Hi! Come on in! You’re the first one here. Do you want anything to drink?” She knew she was talking a mile a minute, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her nerves always made her ramble.

Morgan couldn’t put this off any longer. She tried to remember Deirdre’s advice. Don’t think. Let it happen in pieces. The floor will stay where it is. Just don’t think. She had put on a blazer over her winter dress and stockings. She didn’t know what people wore to Family Dinner, but she assumed that for the Vurals it was something special. Family dinner for her was three people curled on the couch with microwave trays or tupperware or takeout, damp from whatever exhaust of the day they carried or still in pajamas. It was just a thing that happened when it was dark outside and you were too tired to keep working. But this was different. In spite of her heart thudding in her chest and the steady crumbling of her better hopes, Morgan wanted the Vurals to like her. Badly.

A young woman opened the door. “Hi! I’m Morgan!” Did she shake hands? Was this a hugging situation? She was being ushered in, so maybe not? Morgan shuffled into the entryway and held onto her smile with all she had. “Are you--one of Nell’s sisters? I uh, I haven’t gotten anyone’s names down yet, sorry, but it’s nice to meet you! Can I help with anything, maybe?” 

Nell shot a look towards Bea that probably could have equated to something along the lines of ‘don’t start’ knowing they’d both be under that same stress tonight when it came to having their mom over. The last thing they needed was to be at each other’s throats in addition to Nisa’s presence. But as the door opened, her expression shifted, at least wanting to give Morgan a positive experience of tonight, even if it most likely wouldn’t be one for herself. “Hi, Morgan!” she greeted with a smile after appearing in the entryway as well. “Yeah- this is Bea. She’s the oldest. Our other sister couldn’t come so-” She let the sentence trail off, not entirely certain where it had been headed. “Better than our last meeting though already, isn’t it?” she joked a bit, half nervous-energy, and half trying to make Morgan feel more at ease. But her smile fell in the slightest as she glanced behind the other witch. “Hello, mom,”she said with decidedly less enthusiasm.

Nisa had arrived perfectly on time as always, husband in tow as he toted the dessert she’d made along with him. Her voice was bright and enthusiastic as she greeted Morgan from behind, deducing that this woman was decidedly not one of her daughters. “Hello, girls!” Though- she’d see if that definition shifted in time. Part of her had already made the decision to be responsible for the witch, the daughter of her departed friend. And, indeed, a closer look granted her the ability to see the similarities between Morgan and her mother. Motherly hands reached out to settle lightly on the woman’s shoulders, a softer smile accentuating the crow’s feet in her eyes. “And this must be Morgan. I’d know you anywhere, dear. Your eyes are just like Ruth’s.” 

Morgan was relieved to see Nell--a feeling she wouldn’t have expected from their first meeting but found none the less true. There, that was one piece. “Hey!” She said to the girl, waving. Did they hug, since they knew each other already? And then came the next one. Mom. Morgan turned and an older woman’s hands were on her shoulders. Mom. Not hers, but-- a mom, looking at Morgan like she knew her. Morgan went very still under her warm touch. Take it in pieces. “N-nisa,” she stammered. Her heart was thrumming in her ears. Her own mother had never touched her this way. “You’re--Real?” She’d talked with the woman online, of course she was real, that wasn’t a question, that was stupid. But--shit. How was this moment real? This wasn’t something that happened to Morgan, she didn’t get found, she didn’t get to be known, not for long, not without a heavy cost. Morgan breathed and pressed her weight hard into her feet. Pieces. “You’re here,” Morgan said. “Um...thank you. I got that a lot actually.” Relatives, when they were still alive. Waitresses at the restaurants. Moms at bookstores. “It’s nice, hearing it from you too.” She wondered if she should reach out and touch her back, if she was being asked to, or if she would be let to, but her arms were tingling, even just over the one Nisa piece, and it was like she’d forgotten how. Morgan shifted uncertainty between the Vurals all around her. Which piece came next?

Anxiety pooled in Bea’s stomach as her mother came up, but she refused to let it show on her face. She wouldn’t have her mother tell her that she needed to work on keeping up a consistent hostess appearance. Smiling at everyone, she ushered them in. “Come on in everyone. Hi Mom, hi Dad,” She greeted. “I can take your coats and hang them up for you,” She offered a hand out for the coats. She glanced at Nellie, hoping the younger woman would bring everyone over to the dining room table. “Nellie and I made something really nice for dinner tonight. Is anyone not drinking wine at dinner tonight?”

Nell had been going in to greet Morgan before she was side swiped by her mother, and instead held back as Nisa took the reins, her jaw set in what was almost a grimace. But Nisa seemed to be in her element, and did her best to pull Morgan in for a hug. “Of course I’m real, darling!” she said with a bit of a chuckle at the end of her words. “I should be saying the same about you. Look at you- what a beautiful young lady. “And I would think so. It’s only right when it comes to the family resemblance. I’m glad I can say it for you as well.” Seemingly forgetting that she was not the host of the party, Nisa released Morgan from the hug, and made her way in towards the dining area. “Come along girls, we shouldn’t linger in the doorway.” Then Nisa was handing her coat over to Bea with a gracious smile. “And I’m sure Bea’s prepared us a lovely dinner.” At the words, Nell’s expression only soured furthered, already contemplating doing something idiotic to get herself excused from this horror of a family dinner. But she did want to meet with Morgan, and she also wanted to see how any coven discussion might unfold. So all she said for the moment was, “I’ll be drinking wine.” A fuck-ton of the alcohol if she had say in it. She needed to have a wine glass in her hand ten minutes ago when it came to dealing with her mother. 

Nisa pulled away before Morgan could make up her mind. She fidgeted in the entryway, unsure of her place in the family rhythm. Even the anxiety around the sisters felt exotic, breathtaking. To be so sure of yourself, so secure, that you could roll your eyes and take something like this night for granted. What must that be like? “O-oh, wine for me too, thank you,” she said, a step off beat from the conversation. She waved at Nell again, not knowing what else to do, and shed her coat. “It’s really beautiful here,” she said to the youngest Vural. “I uh, I may need some help with this. I don’t think I know what to...do.” She tiptoed through the house, afraid of upsetting the floors with a scuff, looking for the dining room. “Is there a place I’m supposed to sit?”

“Nell helped with dinner,” Bea told her mother, halfheartedly, knowing that their mother probably wouldn’t care to know that information. She took her mother and father’s coats before gently taking Morgan’s as well. She hung them up on the rack before making her way to the wine. She took her time opening the bottle, needing a moment to get rid of her nerves. She returned to Morgan and Nell, holding a glass of wine out to both of them. She looked at her father, who turned to Nisa to ask, “Are we having wine tonight, love?” Bea was already glad that she brought out her large wine glasses. “I would sit next to my mother,” She told Morgan, knowing her mom would want the other woman to sit close by. 

“I’m sure she did, sweetie,” Nisa said absently. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any unsavory surprises if her youngest daughter had also helped with the meal. Meanwhile, Nell did her best to ignore her mother, trying to focus on Morgan instead. That’s why they were here. “That’s alright, I don’t know what to do either,” she said under her breath, though it was meant to be lighthearted, and hopefully a little comforting. Or at least creating a sense of camaraderie. “You’re good, though. My mom already loves you.” Meanwhile, Nisa was distracted with her husband, sending him a look that bordered on praiseful. “Maybe just a glass for you, D. You know how you can get, sometimes.” Somehow she managed to make the words sound as if she were endeared, though there was the smallest undercurrent of judgement. The same tone that colored most of her conversation. 

Morgan sat where she seemed to be herded, eyes darting around the room, trying to take it all in. Everything was coordinated to match, selected and treated with the kind of thought that went beyond need. She couldn’t help but run her hands over the table surface and reach to touch the leaves of the hanging plants above them. Her mother had grown plants like this in their various kitchens. From afar, when she would approach from the bus stop, or glimpse it from the front door, it was the most enchanted room in the whole house. But this greenery, here in the heart of this refuge in the woods, in the room where everyone had a place, where they were nourished and welcome, its beauty escaped her language. “She doesn’t even know me yet,” she reminded the sisters. And they barely did either. And Morgan would have to let them, wouldn’t she? If she wanted this to be even close to fair? Even if it meant they might change their minds? “Do y’all do this often?” She asked, louder to include everyone. “Dinner together, at the end of a long week?”

Bea got her parents their wine, before pouring her own glass and taking a long sip. Maybe her mother wouldn’t notice. Returning to the group, she shrugged at Morgan’s question,“She wants to. So do I, but I won’t force you to sit next to me and her on your first night,” She told Morgan with a slight tease. She was curious about the woman that her family seemed so inclined to include, though she didn’t really know much at all. “We try to. I work a lot at night, performing or making sure the theater is working smoothly. Most of the time, if Mom and Dad can’t join us, Nell or I will have someone over for dinner too.” One of Bea’s favorite parts of living away from her parents was the freedom she had when it came to having people in and out of her home often. 

 Thank god for wine. Nell was already a good couple of glasses in halfway through dinner, meeting her mother’s judgmental warning glances with a defiant little glare of her own, making eye contact as she continued to sip from the glass. Thankfully, Nisa had a shiny new toy to be distracted with tonight in the form of Morgan, and she turned her attention away from her youngest daughter with a disapproving frown that quickly morphed into a sweet smile for the child of her old friend. “So Morgan, forgive me for being blunt but— I can’t help but be a little concerned for you, dear. A witch out here all on her own. You know, we do have the coven. I’m one of the council members in it, and it’s quite large and protective. Not to mention the lovely bonds that come with it.”

Morgan tried to keep pace with the Vurals during dinner, sipping her wine when they sipped, and taking bites of the meal when they did. There was something happening between looks and glares that she didn’t quite follow, an ongoing disagreement, or some routine squabble that didn’t amount to much. Morgan couldn’t tell which, or how much her presence was making it better, or worse. She did her best to stay in neutral territory, teaching was fulfilling, her magic practice remained strong, and so on. 

And then Nisa spoke. 

Morgan straightened up out of habit. “I, oh, I’m not on my own, exactly. Everyone in town has been so nice. For the first time I have a real supernatural community. I didn’t even know that could be a thing…” But that wasn’t what Nisa meant and she knew it. Morgan’s eyes shifted awkwardly around the table. Did they all know? They couldn’t, right? Otherwise there would be more uncertain looks going around, right? “I--I don’t know if I could impose that way, especially with my...situation. The more protective thing for the group would be--” To keep her out. Send her away after tonight with well wishes and pyrex and nothing else. “--I don’t know if it  would really be that. How does uh, the rest of your council feel about it?” And the rest of your family, she added silently. 

It had been over a year now since Bea began to move away from the coven. Her studies of the taboo had made her uncomfortable in large coven gatherings, but she hadn’t outright left… She had simply become less involved. However, she knew that having them behind her gave her more power than being alone would. They were there to support her if anything bad were to happen. “Having a coven is beneficial to many witches. Especially because you can decide how involved you wish to be with them. We support each other when things become difficult and can be a guiding hand if people want to look into new magics.” She wouldn’t blame Morgan for not joining, Bea couldn’t be sure if she would be so willing to join herself if she had been offered now.

“Of course you aren’t all alone,” Nisa confirmed with a warm smile, seeming to approve of Bea’s words as she spoke. “As always, Bea’s out here spouting good sense. It’s true though. We love to look after our own.” Nell hated to agree with her mother, but she did want Morgan to join their coven, so she chimed in as well. “It’s really nice! Like basically a big family. And everyone wants to help and talk to each other or compare magic.” But she didn’t know what to make of the older woman referring to her ‘situation’. Just as she was about to open her mouth to ask, Nisa spoke again, cutting over her much to Nell’s annoyance. “Don’t worry about that, dear. What kind of witches would we be if we let a woman who needed protection down? Especially with your situation. And I’m sure everyone would be eager to assist. I’m sure the council feels the same.” The way Nisa said it seemed to imply that if the council didn’t agree, she’d be sure to make them see sense soon.

Morgan scanned the table, uncomfortable behind her smile. Nisa was beginning to remind her of her own mother, in a way that made her sit up straighter with nervousness. She was meaning to be kind, meaning to protect her, but her daughters didn’t know that. Maybe not even their Dad. She couldn’t make Nisa shoulder that for her, it wasn’t fair. “And, um--” Except, technically, if she didn’t finish her sentence, she could. She could just take it, and worry about the fallout later. She could squeeze this with all her might and just pay for the strife one hurdle at a time. She was getting better at that by now, wasn’t she? Morgan looked at Bea, looked at Nell, looked at their father. It would be too much like tricking them, if they didn’t at least have an idea. This family, a whole family, the kind she had stared at until her mother pulled her away. Morgan had never even bothered imagining she might have a family. You only got the one, and hers hadn’t ever looked this complete, even before it lost its best piece. She shifted looking out the window, in case her own shadow was watching in disbelief. This wasn’t the kind of thing that happened to her, even at the best of times. And if the Vurals didn’t at least have a clue, whatever might happen to them after really would be all her fault. “--How would all of you feel?” She asked, gently. Small pieces, she reminded herself. “Letting in a witch with, um…with a multi-generational tragedy-inducing curse on her head into your family’s coven?” 

Well, that’s not great, Bea thought to herself as she took a sip of wine. She barely wanted to be in the coven herself now and to be sitting there trying to convince someone else to join seemed hypocritical. Still, Nell and her mother seemed to really want this, so of course Bea went with what they wanted. She didn’t like the idea of including someone who was cursed into the coven, the danger of that entire situation would be a little much to handle. While she was tempted to mention weighing the danger of the situation, she kept her mouth tightly shut. She looked over at Nell for her reaction. 

First, Nell looked between her mom and Morgan, confusion on her features as it became obvious that they knew something the rest of the table didn’t. She was about to open her mouth and ask for some answers when it seemed that Morgan provided them all on her own. Multi-generational tragedy-inducing curse on her head? What did that mean, exactly? Whatever it was, it was obviously something that made Morgan vastly self-conscious, and Nell had to wonder if this information alone had gotten her shunned from people’s lives. Instant protective anger began to flare, and was only fueled further as she looked to her older sister who remained silent. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Well, fuck that. “Fuck the curse,” Nell began, annoyance plain on her face. “Isn’t that just more reason for you to be in the coven? So we can all help?” Shit. Was she agreeing with her mother? It left a bitter taste in her mouth, but in this she knew she was right. All Nisa chimed in with was, “Language, Nellie.” And the fact that Nisa’s first direct acknowledgment was to admonish her only pushed Nell’s determination further. “Fuck the curse,” she repeated stubbornly. “We all protect each other. Just ‘cause you have a curse doesn’t mean you’re exempt. And people who’d push you away instead of helping you or letting you into a coven are assholes.”

Morgan felt Bea’s silence and understood. She thought this was it, the door closing before her. And it was going to be okay, because this was how things went. A piece, or a night, of something wonderful, was all she got. And she would always have this dinner, she would have these images to tell about later, and keep. It was okay. It was okay. And then Nell spoke up for her. Loudly. Defiantly, she would have thought, were it not for her siding with her mother. 

“Nell…” she said quietly, touched and mystified. “You don’t have t—“ she looked to Nisa for direction, to Bea for some sign that she was going to push this, or not. “I’ll go along with whatever everyone decides. And I’m not here to break anything, I’m not,” she said, her eyes on Bea in particular. “And even if I were to, um, if you were to decide to, you know,” she wrangled control of her voice before she showed how much she really wanted this. “I would be careful with myself, as much as possible. You’ve all been so kind, I’d want to do right by you.”

It was no surprise to hear Nell’s passionate speech about this all being unfair, and Bea loved that her sister was willing to risk it all for people, but Bea tried to think of the coven’s safety. More importantly, she was trying to think of her family’s safety. Morgan was a risk. Had it not been for the witch hunter roaming the streets, she might have told them all she didn’t think it was a good idea. Instead she placed her wine glass down finally and looked over at Morgan. “Considering how things are in this town, I think it would be best for you to have a coven. It’s dangerous to be alone.” If things started to go wrong, Bea was sure they could figure out a way to distance Morgan. “Like Nellie said, you shouldn’t be kept in the cold because of a curse. Anyway, who knows, maybe the coven could help you find a solution.”

Oh now Bea wanted to speak up, Nell thought bitterly. But her protective nature was only sparked further by Morgan’s apparent continued attempts to provide them with an out. “You shouldn’t have to be careful. This isn’t your fault,” Nell started stubbornly, looking ready to go on another supportive rant when it came to Morgan. Then Nisa spoke again. “Then it’s settled,” she said with an approving look that was shared between Bea and Morgan. This had gone better than she could have expected. “You’ll come join with us, and we’ll get back to what we were doing before all those years ago. Trying to be rid of this curse, and making sure that you’re safe in the process.”

Morgan looked from one Vural to another, sure she’d heard wrong. Settled wasn’t something that happened to her, and joining a family, a coven, was more than she knew how to process in one go. But Nisa was looking at her with this radiant confidence and Nell looked so pleased. And the words were just hanging there, waiting for her. She wanted to ask if they were sure, to say that she would only bring them in so far, because keeping them was worth so much more than having extra research hands. Morgan’s mouth curved into a small watery smile. To keep. To have. To be wanted at this table— “This means more than I can say,” she said, her hold on her voice wavering. “Thank you. I—” What did people normally say in situations like this? I’ll try to keep my danger zone in check, for you? I’ll give you anything, do anything, to be worth this? “I don’t really know what else to say,” she laughed at herself sheepishly. “I’ll do my best for you too, I guess.” She would try, at least, and that would count for something.