#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*]

[pastelchosen]

And here he rests, head against the wall and bloodied blade still firmly in his hand, the flames having died down a long time ago. He’s… caked in blood, eyes pitch black yet somehow still tired, terrified…

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[ muse status ]

[pastelchosen]

Morrell… makes it about halfway home before that pesky, pesky human blood loss catches up to him, the world spinning and darkening before he quickly crumbled to the ground, having of course been far, far too stubborn to do the smart thing and heal his own wounds. It’s a shame he didn’t make it home, though…

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*muse update*]

[pastelchosen]

“Fuck. Time to power through the day. Someone bring me more flesh, damn it..”

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*muse status*]

[pastelchosen]

“…respectfully? Fuck Halloween, let it be September for once without bringing up that accursed holiday-“

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*dash commentary*]

[pastelchosen]

There’s.. something very different about Morrell, this time around. Where there was once his usual smug smirk at all times.. now? Nothing. Absolutely nothing, just an empty, blank expression.

Seems he’s done something to himself yet again…

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*event; soulless demigod*]

[pastelchosen]

Don’t mind him, he’s totally not plotting something right now.

#click the link for context #[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*muse status*]

[pastelchosen]

“Oi, get over here and say that to my face, Loki!”

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*dash commentary*]

[pastelchosen]

“Soon, may the Wellerman come, to bring us sugar and tea and rum..”

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*]

[pastelchosen]

….

*Sad clown honk*.

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*crack*]

[pastelchosen]

Nobody disturb him, he’s on full on dad duty-

And for some reason is really soft while doing it-

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*muse status*]

[pastelchosen]

[ sword ] sender takes an attack with a sword meant for receiver

(Lady Gabe for Mor maybe?)

“Shit… shit.. Gabe.. Gabe! I got you, you’re okay, it’s gonna be fine…”

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*]

[pastelchosen]

He’s… very much bloodied, but still not dead, instead just.. weakly lying there in a pool of blood, unable to call out, or to whimper, or to even cry…

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*muse status*]

[pastelchosen]

He’s… entirely fine for the majority of the day… before he just… suddenly collapses entirely, face up, eyes closed and breathing ragged.

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[ muse status ]

[pastelchosen]

“….Fuck, he doesn’t remember anything… Probably not even me..”

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*dash commentary*] #[*event; broken but not gone*]

[pastelchosen]

“Fuck… damn it, Aegis.. never thought I’d see you again after all these years..”

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*dash commentary*]

[pastelchosen]

Is he still trying to clean up from last night’s feral-fest? Oh yes. Is he still stained with blood? Oh, definitely… it’s quite an alarming sight, to be honest.. especially considering he’s still nibbling on a flesh chunk.

#[*returned to roots; morrell verse*] #[*muse status*]