Roleplay: Morgane x Sulos

Dated: September 23, 2026

The Lake of Life

Sulos had been elsewhere before the shock of cold water reshaped his consciousness to this moment. Instinct brought him to the surface of the lavender tinted lake, oxygen flooding his lungs without the urgency. Blonde hair and cloudy eyes tried to see through the mist. He spun around, surveying each direction for more information but found little to orient himself in this new and strange situation. With a huff of annoyance, the former assassin swam towards the nearest bank to shake the bone-chilling water off his body like a stray dog.

Morgane is now several days out from her fraudulent 'spawn' in the lake but has seemingly made it her entire personality and herself into Mother Theresa, which is to say that on the shore of the lake she is setting up a folding table that she scavenged from somewhere. On that table are stacked towels and old clothes. A sign that reads "If You Just Arrived In The Lake Please Start Here" is pinned down to the table by a brick. It flaps lightly in the breeze. It would appear that her timing is impeccable, for no sooner has she tidied the towels so that they all align on the fold when Sulos surfaces and begins frantically swimming her way. Not that he would know that it was her way. Yes, he has the look they all do. It is rather alarming to suddenly appear here, she supposes. "Yoo hoo!" she calls out, waving her arm. "This way. I have towels. It is safe!"

Sulos stops his primitive shaking when a voice calls out to him. How is it equally disorienting that someone else is here and waving him over so politely? He rolls his neck, letting a shiver run its course, before he starts towards Morgane and her selfless mission. It's not a far distance but far enough that he doesn't simply holler back. He waits until he's standing in front of the table, scrutinizing the sign, before speaking. "I guess this is a common occurrence?" His voice is tight from the tension. The man juts his thumb in the odd landmark's direction.

Morgane continues waving at Sulos in a very elegant manner. "Please, approach," she entreats him, unfolding one of the towels and handing it to him after he draws near. The man is sopping wet and clearly disoriented. That's textbook. He seems very skeptical of her informal Grimwych welcoming center. Well, that's relatable. "Please dry yourself so you don't catch a fever," she counsels him, gesturing that he be seated on a large rock that happens to be near them. "Yes, I'm afraid this has happened a few times, including to me," she answers his question. She gestures again at the rock and then holds up a finger to signal that he should be silent. She is not finished speaking. "My name is Morgane. We all come to this place, Grimwych, in the same way, and as far as I know nobody asked to come here, we are simply here. And we cannot leave. There are a few of us now. It is very confusing and you may have many questions once you process what I have told you. What is your name, do you remember your life prior to arriving here?"

Sulos takes the towel. It smells a bit odd but beggars can't be choosers. He wouldn't even be able to say what he thought it should smell like. Maybe everything here was a touch odd. He starts with his hair, rustling it under the towel, keeping one eye on Morgane as she gives him this official greeting. Quite the tour guide. He didn't dream of interrupting her. He clears his throat, moving the towel to the back of his neck, when she questions his origins. "Name's Sulos," which is the easy part. "And, frankly, I can't remember what I was doing before being here." All he knew was 'here', Grimwych as she'd called it, was not where he'd been before. He lifts one end of the now damp towel in her direction. "Thanks for the towel, and the run down." She was right; he had questions. "What about you? Do you remember what you were doing before?"

Sulos watches Morgane move across from him with the sense that she is sizing him up. He can't say why he feels this way. It must just be his nerves and his former training. Everyone's a threat until they aren't. But she's been perfectly pleasant so he shakes the idea away as paranoia. Maybe he swallowed some of the weird water on the way out. He huffs when she says they might be dead. He didn't know why but he replies "Been there, wasn't anything like this," before he can stop himself. He looks surprised after the fact. Well. Anyway! It's good news that all the newcomers are cooperating. He wouldn't be surprised if that was a temporary alliance though. "I'm sure your world was nice too." It felt like the polite thing to say and he wasn't trained much on the polite way to do things. Hopefully that would be enough. "What do you personally think?" Sulos' curiosity got the better of him.

Morgane does chuckle daintily at her world being called a nice world as well. "I wish I remembered it, but I don't," she lies flawlessly, because this is her world, her playground. He is her plaything, he doesn't know it yet. She'd been so bored, and now, finally, finally the new people are here at last. She lifts her shoulder in a shrug in response to Sulos's question. "I think being dead would be a little bit more involved," she comments, her gaze holding his. "Although maybe you know something about that." She lifts her eyebrows. "I was very upset the first day I arrived and barely went out. I kept expecting to wake, as if this were a bad dream. And now, I don't know what to think anymore. It just seems that for reasons unknown, magic reasons, we are here. People spawn, in this lake. I'm not sure if I believed in magic before, but it doesn't matter now. I am just taking it day by day. I do try to search for clues, for what it's worth, I believe the 'why' we are seeking is at our fingertips, it is only a matter of being patient." She offers him a warm smile. "You are remarkably accepting of your circumstances, I feel, compared to how I was, but then again everyone is different and you are still in my company and not yet alone. The first night is hard. There are strange noises, but I have not heard of anything happening."

Sulos listens in the fashion of a dog trained to do so. He wasn't used to anyone talking this much, but it was informative. She was a fellow survivor of this odd affair so her recon was valuable. And her mannerisms are of someone of status, who didn't decide to leave that to come here. Her story checked out by his logic. He nods when she explains how she tried to wake from this awful dream but magic reasons brought and kept them here. "That's a good idea," searching for clues, "and this made it less disorienting." Talking to her, getting a towel and the run-down. He huffs a laugh at her observation about his demeanor. "Easier to have someone to talk to." He agreed with her. There was something alluring about her but he couldn't put his finger on what. Her generosity or maybe her warm welcome. Sulos did not look forward to finding out what those strange sounds entail but...he didn't have a choice. Or so he's told. "No point fighting against fate." He shrugs, patting the towel across his shoulders. "I'll check out the watch tower. Are people just occupying empty houses or staying together in a single building?" Then, as an after thought because she seems so genuinely distraught by not remembering her past, he adds, "I'm sure you'll remember," with a half smile.

Morgane is relishing her role here. Hauntingly beautiful but surprisingly helpful elegant lady in the crushed velvet green dress. (It has recovered from the dip in the lake she took.) "Agreed," she says to his comment about fighting against fate. She gestures toward the watch tower encouragingly. The smell of the stew does, depending on the breeze, carry this far. "You should go meet the others and have some stew to warm yourself. Whatever happened before, we are a community whether we like it or not." She drops her gaze before continuing, "I don't think I'll remember, Sulos, I've given up hope, but," she smiles and glances up once more, "it doesn't matter. We push onward. We survive. Most people keep to themselves for the most part, unless they know others. Trust moves slowly. I would like to change that, which is why I've called a meeting. I hope you can attend." Her eyes glitter with something. Hope, no doubt. (Devious fae shit, more like.) "Go get some stew."

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