#wr luce chatzy

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Friendship Fail || Morgan & Luce

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: Downtown

PARTIES: @divineluce & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan isn’t leveled up enough to access Luce’s backstory.

“I’m heading out for the night. See you tomorrow, Ulf.” Luce said as she locked up her workspace and headed out the backdoor of Ink Inc. Her wrist was killing her from the extra hours she’d put in today, but whatever. The bills were piling up and she needed to get a handle on them before she was drowning in debt. That was the bitch of life in White Crest, wasn’t it? Knowing that there were forces beyond your control, that there were people trying to murder and torture and control other people at every turn, that ghosts were out here possessing people, that love potions were fucking people up and on top of it all? She had goddamn hospital bills to pay.

“Fuck.” She muttered, rubbing the back of her neck as she stepped out of Ink Inc and began to head towards Soul. This had been her routine for the past few weeks-- extra hours and long days at Ink Inc followed by drinks at Soul followed by crashing for whatever sleep she could snag. Wash, rinse, repeat. Throw in some sleepless nights, a cat trying to smother her in her sleep, and researching how to get ghosts to fuck off… it made for a great time. Luce caught a glimpse of herself in the windows of one of the storefronts and winced. She looked like shit. “Christ.” She sighed. As she continued down the sidewalk, she noticed a small familiar figure walking across the other side-- Fuck.

Morgan was desperate to get back into the swing of things. Deirdre was back to being herself, the semester was underway, and even if the fairy rings wouldn’t be gone for two more months, the broken pieces of her life were starting to hold together. Enough so that Morgan even delighted in late night runs downtown for forgotten goods. Normal, manageable levels of chaos. That is, until she saw Luce coming out of Ink Inc, looking more sour-faced than she had even at Bea’s birthday party.

“Luce...?” She called. “Hey!” She waved her down and jogged quickly across the street to catch up to her. “How’s it going?” She asked. “Are you doing okay?”

Luce did her best to try and hurry away without looking like she was outright running away, but fuck. For fuck’s sake. After the conversation she’d had with Morgan online, she didn’t want to deal with the woman at all. She didn’t want her pity, didn’t want her weird invasive questions, didn’t want to have to deal with any of that. She was doing just fine on her own, no matter what other people thought. She was fine. Or at least, she would be with a drink in her hand. “I was.” She growled, her tone testy as she continued down the street. The bar was only a few blocks further, but fuck, it had never felt so far away. Casting a withering look at the woman, Luce made an offhand gesture to try and get the woman to just fucking… go, “Leave me alone, Morgan.”

Morgan slowed down. She didn’t know what Luce was running from or what was weighing on her so bad, but she could feel the ugliness of it rolling off her. “Sorry I happen to give a shit and be concerned,” she said, stopping short as the witch rebuffed her. “What is your deal? Why are you--” Like this, she wanted to say. She stopped herself frowning, and asked instead, “Did I...do something piss you off that I’m not aware of?”

“Yeah, sure did.” Luce replied brusquely, though the words were a lie. Morgan hadn’t done anything, not really. She was just being her weird… fucking good vibes, hippy bullshit self. And yeah, Luce knew that wasn’t all there was to the former witch. She knew some of the baggage the woman carried with her, remembered that jarring lack of sensation, had felt the pain of existing as a soul stuck in the husk of a body that had once been hers. But, Morgan was determined. And, worse, Morgan knew Remmy. Cared about Remmy. Wanted nothing but the best for Remmy. And for some fucked up reason, thought that Luce could be that for them. “I just got done with a 6 hour session and was trying to go the bar. Instead of that, you’re here, bothering me. Do I really need more of a reason to get annoyed with that?” She replied.

It only took Morgan a few seconds to consider this. “Yes. Yes, I do,” she said. “Because all of this--” She gestured vaguely at Luce, “Is a little disproportionate to everything we have going on here. And I get it, if you’re looking for an outlet and need an easy target, you’ve had the shittiest time and none of it’s fair, but a head’s up might be nice. Or, you know, cut a dead girl a break and pick someone else or, I don’t know, actually say what it is that’s actually got you so upset!” She held her arms out, gesturing to all the nothing that Luce acting like an angry time bomb was helping. “This might be wild, but there are people here for you. I’m here for you, Luce. Or I would be if you let me.”

If she let people be there for her. Luce let out a derisive snort and shook her head. That was what had gotten her into this mess, wasn’t it? She’d tried to help Bea, tried to protect Nell, tried to rescue Remmy, tried to save Nadia, had done so much to be there for people that she’d forgotten why she’d cut herself off from her family in the first place. It never made things better. Doing things, helping people, it only made things worse. It dug a deeper hole, one where people thought that asking about your feelings would suddenly make everything better. “I don’t want your help. Go help Remmy. Or, better yet, stay in your own lane and worry about your own shit.” Luce growled, all venom.

“Then what do you want, Luce?” Morgan asked, softer now. “And I don’t mean your angry teenager nonsense, I mean, really. What is it that you want? Because the last time we talked, it seemed like it wasn’t all that hard to get. You just have to ask for it and believe that you’re worth more than whatever your mom or whoever else told you. You...you can just say, Luce. The world’s not gonna fall down or turn its back on you or mock you or whatever else you think is gonna happen. And, you know, even if it did, then fuck the world! Try again anyway! We have one pathetic life here, so why not?” She held her gaze, exasperated in all her sympathy. She’d tried this whole routine a few times before and it always fell apart. She wasn’t the kind of person who could commit to giving up or walking away unless someone made her. But she didn’t think that made much of a difference. Shutting your life away when you were hurt only made you lose more than you already had, and Morgan didn’t want that for Luce.

“I want you to leave me alone, Morgan.” Luce insisted as she continued down the street. She didn’t like hearing this, didn’t like being forced in a situation where she couldn’t just delete her words, or go offline. Having Morgan here, talking to her, yelling at her in her face? It was too fucking real and she didn’t want that. At the mention of her mother, though, Luce’s blood froze and she whirled around, anger in her eyes. “Don’t talk about my mother.” She warned the woman. She didn’t want to fucking think about her mom. What she’d done, to her, to her sisters. What the entire fucking coven had done to them. The night she’d been cast out-- yes, she’d been prepared for it, had known that the consequences for what they’d done were coming. But, it still felt like she’d lost a limb, like she’d lost a piece of herself. The coven had mattered to her. Beyond Ink Inc., it one of the few places that she felt as though she was contributing to something that mattered. And now she didn’t even have that. “What I want doesn’t fucking matter-- there’s shit that needs to get done.”

“I’m sorry,” Morgan sighed. It looked like she had guessed right about at least one of the things bothering Luce, but of course it was a sore spot. She held up her hands in a half-hearted truce. She wouldn’t go there; not explicitly, anyway. “But what you want does matter. Of course it matters. You matter, Luce. You matter as much as anyone.” She risked a tentative step forward. “And whatever you need to get done--” And stars, she had no idea what that Luce needed to get done. She’d never done half the things the Vural girls had done, had no idea how to move forward from the kinds of losses and twisted paybacks they’d faced. She’d never had enough family or love to need to. But she’d been tired before, and desperate, and angry. She had woken up mornings to see nothing but the endless, screwed up grind against odds she couldn’t beat and people who didn’t care. For all she knew those times were only a fraction of what Luce had to deal with; how could she not feel for her? “You don’t have to be alone. And I don’t believe you really want to be. People want to be here, they want to listen. I want to listen, because you’re my friend and I care about you. But if you won’t talk to me, at least...pick someone? Trust someone. You’re worth it, okay?”

Irritation and anger burning hotly in her veins, Luce glared at the woman, crossing her arms and holding her ground as Morgan took a step towards her. “Cut the fucking “you’re valid” special snowflake bullshit.” She growled. Morgan was patronizing her and she didn’t fucking need it. Or want it. “You think I don’t want to be alone? Well, joke’s on you because that’s exactly what I want. I want to be alone, in my cabin, away from all of this shit.” She said before moving forward, attempting to brush past the other woman. But, as she pushed forward, her shoulder collided with Morgan’s unyielding, solid arm. “Christ!” Luce swore, shaking her already sore arm out. Fucking zombies. “Fuck off. You’re not my fucking friend. Go find someone else to play bleeding heart with.”

“First of all, if you really wanted to be alone, you wouldn’t have so many friends to lose in the first place,” Morgan said, putting out a hand for Luce to keep her distance, lest she hurt herself or rip off the last of Morgan’s patience. “Second of all: you can be as pissed as you like for as many shitty reasons as you like, but you do not get to look me in the face and tell me I’m full of shit. You don’t know my whole story either, Luce, and you do not get to decide that I’m playing some game or lying to you just because what I’m saying makes you uncomfortable. Just because I don’t cope with my suffering like you do, doesn’t mean I’m not for real.” Morgan didn’t raise her voice. She had a fist around her temper and was determined to keep it steady. But Luce had finally succeeded in making her angry and Morgan couldn’t swallow it down. “And I am your friend. Maybe you’re not mine, I can live with that, but you’re not going to re-narrate my feelings for me to fit your forever-alone scheme. Because you’re not. You’re just not. What on the mother’s earth is so awful or scary about that?”

“I don’t have friends-- I’ve just got,” Luce paused, not sure how to explain her situation. Her sisters, they were blood, they were family. That much made sense in her mind. But, Remmy, Nadia, Ulf, Ariana, hell, even Erin? They weren’t friends. “Obligations.” She muttered. Yeah. Obligations was the best way she could put it. They were all people who didn’t deserve the hand they’d been dealt and she had a way to try and make things right. But, had she even done that? The situation with Remmy was weirder than ever, Nadia was still… not Nadia, Ulf had been distant, Ariana had still lost her sister, and she’d burned all her bridges with Erin. Because that’s what she did. She burned her bridges while she was still on them. Christ. “Fine, you’re for real with this. Whatever. Doesn’t mean I have to listen to you.” Rubbing her shoulder, Luce glared at the woman. “It’s not scary, I just don’t fucking want people.”

“If that’s really so true,” Morgan said, as evenly as she could, “Then why do you bother with people in the first place? Why is there even anyone to push away, Luce? If you really didn’t give a shit about anyone, I don’t see why you’d give anyone the time of day, especially Remmy. So, what is it? Why do you think you shouldn’t get to have people? What’s the worst you think is going to happen? Because whatever it is… Stars, Luce, you’re not a bad person.” Morgan deflated, shaking her head at Luce. “You get to have people, no matter how bad things get. Why is that so hard to believe?”

Because she was fucking stupid, that’s why. She’d left the comfortable isolation of work and her home and somehow, she’d managed to get wrapped up in all of this bullshit of people and obligations and other people’s fucking feelings. Luce swallowed and shook her head. “Fuck off. I know I’m not a bad person, but I’m not a fucking good one either. And I don’t--” She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. “Fuck off with this shit. Get out of my way, Morgan.” She said, knowing that there was no real way she could get the woman out of her path. The zombie had undead strength on her side and Luce couldn’t do much about that.

“You don’t have to be good to deserve people who care about you, Luce,” Morgan said, as if it were obvious. “No one does. There’s no good enough coupon that unlocks the magic friend-having door or the ‘no bad things happening to you anymore’ door. You just...you already do.” She shouldn’t have been surprised at this.She had struggled to explain it to Remmy and Deirdre enough times before. But Luce… she had so much love around her just waiting to be taken, a whole cosmic abundance, Morgan couldn’t get her head around why on earth she’d turn her back on it so stubbornly.

“What the fuck do I have to say to get you off my goddamn back?” Luce growled, her irritation and a strange, creeping sense of… fear? Was that fear that she felt? Christ. Why was she afraid? Because Morgan was here? Because she was asking these questions that Luce didn’t even ask herself? “You know what comes with “friends” and people who want “relationships” from you?” She said, making aggressive air quotes with her hands. “A whole lot of bullshit that involves this. People trying to get into my head, trying to figure out why I do what I do, trying to make me open up. And I don’t fucking want that. I don’t want people to fucking--” Luce paused and shook her head again. “I spent five years perfectly happy and away from everyone else. And that’s what I’m going to do once all this shit with Nadia and Erin and Remmy is taken care of.”

Morgan couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Well, yeah,” she said simply. “Of course that’s what it leads to. That’s what relationships are all about. That’s just how it is being a person. But it’s not a bad thing for someone to know you. I mean, what’s the point if no one ever does?” She tried to find Luce’s gaze, some signal of what fear she was clinging so desperately to. “What are you afraid of happening if someone actually understands something about you? Those people you mentioned aren’t going to run or turn you away. There’s no reason why you would be anything less than accepted, Luce. There just isn’t, okay…? Tell me you at least know that, huh?”

Luce glared at the woman, lips pressed tightly together. It’s not a bad thing for people to know her? Oh fuck off with that. If people knew her, if people understood what was going on in her head, what she thought, how she felt, how fucking��� confused and scared and absolutely out of her depth she was, they’d know exactly why she pushed them away. If people saw the full measure of who she was, they’d know exactly how inadequate she was. And that was the scariest part: someone knowing her, knowing her completely? If they left, that worked just fine for her. But, if they didn’t? That’s what fucked her up the most. “I’m not afraid of what they’d do. And if they left, hell, that’d be even better.” She retorted. “I don’t give a shit if people accept me.” Because they wouldn’t. They couldn’t.

It took Morgan a few moments to figure out what Luce was really saying. It was so antithetical to everything she’d spent her life craving and against every desire she’d stupidly nurtured headlong into disaster. Luce wasn’t afraid of rejection, she was afraid of...acceptance? Was that so foreign to her that she wouldn’t know what to do with it? Morgan’s face fell as she considered this. “Luce…” She breathed her name gently. “It’s not a bad thing if they do. The world won’t collapse if you’re loved for who you are. It’s okay. You can let them. And if it really doesn’t matter that much to you--” She shrugged, knowing that for whatever reason, it did, it had to, “Why not? What the hell, right?”

The way Morgan said her name pissed her off, like she’d figured something out. Luce’s eyes narrowed. “Get the fuck out of my way, right now.” She said, her hands growing hot with barely restrained flames. Her hands closed into fists at her sides, smothering the blue flames that had begun to lap at the skin of her palms. Not here, but not to Morgan either. As much as the other woman was pissing her off, she couldn’t just light her problems on fire. She’d learned that the hard way. “You think you can bait me into telling you shit? Not happening. Not fucking happening.” She snarled. Morgan didn’t get to know her. No one did.

Morgan could tell that she wasn’t getting through to Luce. Maybe she was the wrong person to be saying this to her. Maybe Luce was so scared, she really did conduct her life to make sure that no one got close enough to convince her. Something wasn’t adding up, but maybe Morgan didn’t have enough variables to make it work. “I’m not baiting you, Luce,” she said. “I don’t know who lied to you for so long that you think everyone who gives a shit about you is running a con, or lying, or doesn’t understand what they’re in for, but that’s just...not how it is. Stars, Luce, you should at least know me enough to figure that part out.”

“Get out of my face.” Luce repeated. She didn’t want to hear about whatever the fuck Morgan was trying to say. “I don’t care how you see the world or what you think I should do. I do what I want. And right now, I want you to leave me alone, I want to get a drink, and I want to pretend like I don’t have to deal with all the fucking bullshit in this town.” She said shaking her head. Because she did. She had to fix shit before she could get back to her cabin, go back to trying to figure out how to harness the strange magic that brewed within her, and go back to being alone. That was all she wanted.

Morgan watched Luce walk away. Her name rose up from her stomach, burned the roof of her mouth, itching to be called out. But if Luce couldn’t understand her five seconds ago, she wouldn’t understand her now. Morgan would have to give her the night to herself before she could even try talking again. She let her go, deflating  and turning back toward her car. Sooner or later someone had to get through to Luce. They had to. Right?