FORTY SEVEN ✖ VOICE

[wedonot]

[And shortly after Morgana's post has gone up, Charles is clicking on the audio function to let everyone know what happened. His voice is still a little hoarse, but whether that's from getting over his cold or because he's upset is a little up in the air.]

Morgana's gone. I've checked her room. [There's a pause before the feed clicks off, like he's considering saying something more, but decides against it.]

Comments

[burnmythoughts]

No. [Her voice is small, and a little choked.]

[wedonot]

[That makes two of us, Jean. :c] I checked. She's gone.

[burnmythoughts]

[Jean's arms seem to warp around herself of their own accord.] It's not fair.

[wedonot]

I know. I'm sorry.

[burnmythoughts]

It's not your fault. It's not anyone's.

[Jean swallows a few times, trying to smooth the lump in her throat.]

I feel so helpless.

[wedonot]

I know. Can I do anything?

[burnmythoughts]

[Her smile is bleak, but grateful.] I don't know. I...

[She switches the feed.]

[Private]

I'm used to my friends being in danger. But not...I'm still not sure how to deal with this.

[Private]

[wedonot]

The best we can do is hope that she'll be alright at home [Even though Charles knows she won't be.] or that she comes back here. [Even though Charles doesn't really want her to, considering the hell she's been through here already.]

I know that's not much.

[Private]

[burnmythoughts]

But it's all we've got. [A weak smile.] You've got to make the most of what you have, right?

[Private]

[wedonot]

That's what I've always believed.