There wasn't much room for routine in Alec's life lately. Thanks to Clary, Valentine, Jace, and everything in between, his life had been thrown for more than a few loops. He didn't mind, exactly, not that anyone would believe him, but he wasn't sorry his life had taken so many new directions. Didn't mean he was constantly happy about it, though.
This morning finds Alec waking up without an alarm, he hasn't needed one in years, and sneaking out of the Institute for a walk. He would normally take the time to catch up on work, or take advantage of the training areas before there are too many others needing to share the space, but while he's never been particularly claustrophobic, he just felt the need to get out. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Jace appeared to still be up and doing his own version of kick boxing on one of the bags in the gym. Not at all.
He's covered a few blocks, silence and mundane invisibility solidly in place, before he realizes where he's headed. There's no one to question his grin as he stops for a moment and shakes his head. And continues on his way to Magnus' loft.
Alec's still a little floored at the glittery keys Magnus gifted him one day, overly casual, which only served to alert Alec to exactly how much it meant to him. The trust Magnus was showing him. Even if it was a little unnecessary since everyone and their brother seemed to walk right through the door uninvited some days, but that was a gripe for another morning...
He lets himself in quietly, absolutely certain Magnus won't be even close to conscious at just after 7am. Of course he checks just to make sure, having deactivated his runes beforehand, and peeking in to see Magnus very much asleep, awash in a sea of silky sheets, and quickly sees himself back out to open spaces and sunlight to hide the light flush he feels threatening to emerge. Not that there is anyone to judge him except the cats.
At least three of them are peering through the glass from the patio. Alec's pretty sure there's always at least one more hiding somewhere.
It'll be a long time before he doesn't suspect a cat to be more than just a cat.
But these are the usual suspects and Alec is feeling a little more awkward by the moment, waiting around the living room of his sleeping boyfriend (no, it won't lose its novelty), so he takes a breath and grabs a random book off the shelf and heads out to make his peace with the felines. They all do a spectacular job of appearing to ignore him while never letting him out of their sight. A skill he's still trying to perfect. Cats.
He's settled into a chair before he realizes the book he grabbed is in a language he has absolutely no hope of reading, and he looks up into a pair of bright green cat eyes in a smushed, grey furry face, belonging to the old cat perched on the chair across from him.
“Like you can read this.”
Guess he'll just engage in a losing battle of staring contests with the beast.
Magnus has only been unconscious for four hours or so by 7 am, and if the world was a fair and just place, he'd stay that way for another four. Alas, he finds himself drifting back to the waking world far earlier than that. When he opens his eyes, the light isn't early morning, but it's still morning. He stares at the ceiling with a faint frown, trying to remember his dreams, and then his face softens as he does remember that Alec had been in them. And really, what else does he need to remember?
Thinking of Alec always softens him. The two of them as a them has moved on from the brand-new stage, there's something comfortable about it now, but Alec is still needed at the Institute often enough that he's only stayed the night through a handful of times. And Magnus doesn't mind, he thinks as he rolls onto his back, spread-eagled across the bed beneath the mounds of covers. He doesn't want Alec to need to choose. Alec knows he's welcome any time, and he closes his eyes and smiles at the memory of his face when Magnus had tossed him two glitter-coated keys on a ring. It hadn't been ceremonial, he hadn't wanted Alec to feel as if Magnus was putting him on the spot or asking for some kind of commitment he wasn't ready for yet. It may have only made it more obvious; Magnus is never casual.
But the keys hang right next to the array of keys Alec carries for Institute things now, and neither of them had needed to feel uncomfortable about the gift. Magnus is willing to call that a win in his crusade to keep Alec comfortable. Relationships take work, but the bigger challenge is ensuring that this relationship (and their vastly diverse experience levels) doesn't move too abruptly in one direction or the other. Slow and steady, he's told himself. It's been his opportunity to work on that patience virtue he's sometimes neglected over the years. Which is a good thing. Certainly. Even when he watches the way Alec is treated by the higher-ups at the Clave (absolutely including his own parents) and a part of him burns to just take him away from all their bureaucratic traditions and infighting.
Even when Alec isn't here, Magnus thinks about him. Sometimes he thinks he can hear his voice when... Magnus opens his eyes again and shifts onto his elbows as a stray breeze brings him faint sounds from the patio. He is hearing his voice. But who is Alec talking to? What time does anyone call this?
With a resigned sigh, Magnus slithers to the edge of the bed and wraps himself in a rather sedate deep blue embroidered dressing gown. When he moves into the sitting room he can see Alec sitting on a chair with his back to the door, surrounded by cats, and in fact talking to the cats. Alec is talking to his cats. And they're all listening intently, which makes Magnus come to a halt in the shadows, curious despite himself about what's so engrossing that even Church is perched nearby with a paw on Alec's arm.
"Okay, don't look at me like that, I'm still working this out," Alec is saying, as one of the cats narrows his (her?) eyes at him, and the one perched at his arm gives a brief warning with claws. "Can you blame me? It hasn't been easy, for either of us, but it almost feels too easy. I know how this sounds, I'm not-- okay, look, I never expected-- it feels too good to be true."
His palms are open in front of him as he gestures animatedly, no more than usual, really, but... sincerely. It doesn't seem to be phasing the cats, if anything it keeps them engaged, and Alec's not sure why he cares, thinks maybe he should feel more crazy that he feels better the cats are paying attention than he would if he was just talking to himself. Regardless, he can't seem to stop talking. Maybe it's something about their eyes. Suddenly he's grinning, and off on another tangent, something awkwardly poetic about Magnus' beautiful eyes he would never, ever say out loud normally and it's almost enough to make him stop. Almost.
He pulls the keys out of his pocket, dangles them in front of the nearest cat, just out of her reach, and keeps talking while she takes a few lazy swipes at the glittering metal.
"He gave me these. He wants me here. It's my second home, too," he announces to the cats like he's one of them now. And then what he said sinks in.
It's enough to finally stop the stream of consciousness rambling. Enough to alert him to eyes on his back he should have sensed sooner. He doesn't startle, however, just swivels in his chair enough to shoot an absolutely blinding grin at Magnus. Who probably heard Angel knows how much of what Alec has been saying.
And there, right there, is one reason why thinking of Alec makes something go a little gooey inside Magnus: that unrehearsed, genuine smile. Alec never looks more lovely than when he's being genuine. "Sorry," he says, actually sounding a little sorry as he pads barefoot onto the patio and reaches out a hand to stroke his fingers through Alec's hair. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I didn't want to interrupt your...seminar," he decides, looking at the cats, all of whom are now pretending disinterest. Sheba even hops down and takes up residence on a different couch for a bath.
"I should also apologize for the chair," he says, leaning to one side and examining it critically. To the naked eye, it looks perfectly ordinary, but... "I sat there last night while I was enchanting a truth-telling amulet for someone, and, well...I suppose I got a little sloppy with things."
That doesn't mean he isn't about to turn gracefully and settle into Alec's lap, however, settling his arms around Alec's shoulders. Should he...address any of the things he'd heard? Would it be easier to let this morning slip away unremarked? But that isn't fair, is it? Alec has revealed what's in his heart, after all. "It could be," he says softly, looking at the keys in Alec's hand. "Your second home. I'd never ask...of course I know how important your work is at the Institute, but if you wanted...to stay."
[A long distance relationship was never easy, but it looked different from the immortal perspective. Some people were worth it, and Thor was absolutely one of them. Magnus had laughed when he'd discovered what it was Thor could do, given that seeing him for the first time had felt like a lightning strike. But it was difficult knowing he was out there alone, wandering space on his self-imposed quest for Infinity Stones. Important, yes, but still. Looking up at the stars was different now.
So he did the only thing he could: he wrote another fire message.]
Dear handsome prince--
Tonight at sunset I saw a shooting star above the horizon. It was a ridiculously photogenic moment, it didn't even look real, and I wished you were here to laugh at nature with me.
I've turned up a few more tidbits of information about the Stones in myths and legends, but from what I can tell, the only one that had ever been here for any length of time is the one you already know about. I hope you're making more progress. I've made a lot more progress on containment spells for them than on researching what they do, if you still don't want to store more than one at a time on Asgard bring it back here.
Or just bring yourself. You must have more scars by now that you need to show off. I miss you. <3 Magnus
[ While Thor hadn't asked Magnus for help when it came to the Stones, of course the warlock had offered. Thor loved him just a little more for that. He also couldn't have thanked him enough for letting him leave like this. It had been abrupt after the battle with Ultron, but Thor knew it was going to be a mistake not to follow through on his vision.
Distance really didn't mean the same to two people who could live for centuries, and Thor knew deep down that it wouldn't change anything, other than increase his hunger for Magnus for when they finally did reunite. And perhaps appreciate that loft just a little bit more when he returned to Brooklyn. ]
My dazzling warlock,
I wish I had been able to laugh at that sight with you as well. Just like I wish it had been you keeping me warm last night, and not - well, it doesn't need writing down. It was not pleasant, and I have yet to be able to bathe.
My search is becoming just as fruitless. We knew where three of the Stones were at the start of all this, and that is all the information we still have. If I wanted to be honest with myself, I'm not sure how much longer I can do this. I had more faith in my vision than this...
Oh, you would have really enjoyed the last planet. I have tried to send back some gifts with an ally that was returning to Earth. I hope they find you, just ignore the hair. It's not their fault. I would have brought them back to you myself but we both know there is no way for me to know when that is.
I look forward to the day you can discover the scars for yourself, M. Just as I look forward to finding out that you have no doubt grown more beautiful in my absence.
[The missive, when it appears on his desk in a little froth of flames, makes Magnus's heart soar in a way little else can manage these days. Even when they'd first met, getting messages from Thor had that same effect. He can read through the lines, he can see how frustrated and crestfallen Thor has become, and he wants to write back and tell him to come back. Instead, to give himself time, Magnus pulls out his phone and scrolls back...]
Good morning, Charming. Yes, I know it's afternoon, but SOMEone kept me up all night.
[ Thor was never going to be able to properly explain to Magnus how meeting him had changed his life for the better, though he hoped where his words often failed him, his actions made up for it. ]
Is that really a complaint, M? Or just a reminder that I made sure you enjoyed yourself every single second?
I will. Promise. From there it's easy enough to slip from the club and across the street to the Chinese restaurant; he's a frequent enough visitor (or perhaps a memorable enough one) that there's a little banter while Alec waits for his order. The bag he's handed is heavier than he thinks it should be but he simply says a gracious thanks and heads up to Magnus' penthouse.
The door opens easily to his knock, and he calls out for his boyfriend. "Magnus...?"
"In the kitchen, Alexander!" Magnus calls back, sprinkling an exact measurement of ground dragonfly wings into a tiny copper cauldron, then stirring it with a glass rod exactly four times clockwise. The other ingredients have been parceled out into small dishes, lined up in order of addition. It's an intricate, tricky potion, but if he gets it right, it might be a surefire substitute for yin fen, same effects, nonaddictive.
He straightens up and inhales, the scent of the food creeping ahead of Alec himself. "Oh, that smells amazing. It's been far longer than I thought since I ate something, you're a lifesaver."
Alec is careful about entering the kitchen — he always is when Magnus is brewing potions — setting the bag down far from the potion ingredients but not keeping far from its creator at all. He reaches for Magnus' hand, drawing close enough to kiss his cheek.
"I do enjoy saving your life," he murmurs, teasingly. And suddenly glad he got more than Magnus had asked for. "Do you have time for a break?"
I don't think that was meant as a compliment, but it really still feels like one. After Crowley doesn't answer his final, rather snarky text, Magnus doesn't give the exchange another thought. Less than a week later, the invitation arrives: the new conclave of High Warlocks, held every ten years, this time to be held at the home of Ragnor Fell, the High Warlock of London. Of course. Fate has a hilarious sense of humor.
In spite of Magnus's reservations toward visiting London again, he does look forward to visiting Ragnor. They've been best friends for centuries, after all, and after the other High Warlocks disperse back to their home cities, Magnus lingers, drinking and bickering and reminiscing with Ragnor until dawn. He should go home, get some rest—he has a nightclub he's opening, after all, he needs his rest—but, well. He's already here. He borrows a dose of Ragnor's energy-restoring potion and portals to a friendly shop in Chelsea.
Walking down the street, he fishes out his phone and calls Crowley. "It just so happens I'm in the neighborhood. Well, I'm in Chelsea, I don't know your neighborhood."
"Sorry, who is this?" The response manages to simultaneously sound drawling and distracted, as if the being on the other end is doing something else more important. He isn't, but he can put on a good show of it. Honestly, he's mostly just been explaining to his his plants that they can stand to be a bit greener, if they know what's good for them. A distraction isn't the worst thing in the world.
As long as said distraction doesn't know about it.
"It can't be a certain wizard of my acquaintance, he's allergic to England or some such thing."
"Ugh." He knows it's exactly the reaction Crowley's looking for, but Magnus still pulls the phone away from his ear and glares at it, as though he'll somehow sense the disapproval. "It's 'warlock,' for the eightieth time. I know they both start with 'w' but really, I'm starting to worry about your absentmindedness."
"Oh no, you must have heard me wrong. Probably those allergies acting up." Crowley snorts down the phone, even as he gives the shaking greenery in front of him one last hard look and then turns, already making for the door. He does stop long enough to grab his sunglasses and slip them on just as he lets himself out. He doesn't bother to lock up.
[It could be a sudden appearance in his living room, or it could be a knock at his door. There isn't any way to predict it, so Magnus takes a welcome break from what he's been doing, namely: cleaning. It's terrible. He's had magic for these little chores, and not only is he realizing how much time he'd saved, he isn't very good at cleaning. In fact, he's grimy, sweaty, exhausted, and worst of all, he looks it.
He has to take a break to get ready. Even if his magic is gone, he isn't going to look like it. He showers, dresses, does his hair, his eyeliner—getting better at that, though it's still shaky around the edges—and he's at ease in his living room with a book when Loki does arrive.]
[Normally Loki doesn't teleport straight into Magnus' home. While his wards don't actually prevent him from entering, but it does make it much uncomfortable. After the warlock said his wards were weakened, though...
Well he had to see.
It was embarrassingly easy to get in, he barely even felt a tug when he crossed the threshold, so to speak. With very little warning he's standing in Magnus' living room in a smart, black suit.]
By the Norns, you weren't joking about needing help.
[At least he'd tidied himself up before Loki arrived, but it is a little embarrassing how easily he gets in. Reinforcing his wards should have been done earlier, anyone could get through them like this, but Magnus hasn't been willing to share with any of his fellow warlocks what's happened to him, and, well. Loki is...a friend? Yes, a friend. One to be somewhat wary of, but still within that general area of "friend."
He sets the book aside and unfolds from the sofa, spreading his hands with a little sheepish shrug.]
As you can see, I am somewhat overdue for an upgrade, but I haven't been feeling my old self recently.
( From here ) I do, and you sound delightfully shocked. It isn't something I have the time for most of the time, but when I can, I'll pick something up. Haven't you any guilty pleasures, Alexander?
[Magnus is a very disruptive reader. He doesn't do any of this while watching movies, but when reading? He huffs at the text, laughs aloud, makes little exclamations, tells the characters not to do that. Hums appreciatively during the steamy parts.
Alec would have been distracted in more ways than one, most likely.]
( From here ) [The dots go a little longer, but only for a few seconds this time. He might as well spill.]
I told him to follow his heart, and foolishly thought that would mean he'd follow it to me. Instead, he followed it to a Shadowhunter of good family, to help restore the Lightwood name. It's a waste of a beautiful soul.
It wastes nothing, when a youth sacrifices to maintain the integrity of his family's name. It's a noble gesture. Unless it doesn't work out.
And yet I feel compelled to ask: beautiful soul or a beautiful face? What do you know of this little narc aside from the fact he values social currency with the Clave over whatever it is you've shown him of yourself?
Edited (fuck you too subject line!! ) 2019-07-06 23:56 (UTC)
Of course, you were always more traditionally-minded than I was.
And such a romantic, Vlad. :P I don't know. Honestly. I don't know. I just have a feeling about him. There's something there. I haven't felt like this in a long time. Too long. Too long to sit back and watch this happen.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
/writes you half a fic as a starter <3
This morning finds Alec waking up without an alarm, he hasn't needed one in years, and sneaking out of the Institute for a walk. He would normally take the time to catch up on work, or take advantage of the training areas before there are too many others needing to share the space, but while he's never been particularly claustrophobic, he just felt the need to get out. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Jace appeared to still be up and doing his own version of kick boxing on one of the bags in the gym. Not at all.
He's covered a few blocks, silence and mundane invisibility solidly in place, before he realizes where he's headed. There's no one to question his grin as he stops for a moment and shakes his head. And continues on his way to Magnus' loft.
Alec's still a little floored at the glittery keys Magnus gifted him one day, overly casual, which only served to alert Alec to exactly how much it meant to him. The trust Magnus was showing him. Even if it was a little unnecessary since everyone and their brother seemed to walk right through the door uninvited some days, but that was a gripe for another morning...
He lets himself in quietly, absolutely certain Magnus won't be even close to conscious at just after 7am. Of course he checks just to make sure, having deactivated his runes beforehand, and peeking in to see Magnus very much asleep, awash in a sea of silky sheets, and quickly sees himself back out to open spaces and sunlight to hide the light flush he feels threatening to emerge. Not that there is anyone to judge him except the cats.
At least three of them are peering through the glass from the patio. Alec's pretty sure there's always at least one more hiding somewhere.
It'll be a long time before he doesn't suspect a cat to be more than just a cat.
But these are the usual suspects and Alec is feeling a little more awkward by the moment, waiting around the living room of his sleeping boyfriend (no, it won't lose its novelty), so he takes a breath and grabs a random book off the shelf and heads out to make his peace with the felines. They all do a spectacular job of appearing to ignore him while never letting him out of their sight. A skill he's still trying to perfect. Cats.
He's settled into a chair before he realizes the book he grabbed is in a language he has absolutely no hope of reading, and he looks up into a pair of bright green cat eyes in a smushed, grey furry face, belonging to the old cat perched on the chair across from him.
“Like you can read this.”
Guess he'll just engage in a losing battle of staring contests with the beast.
Or start talking.
/writes the other half
Thinking of Alec always softens him. The two of them as a them has moved on from the brand-new stage, there's something comfortable about it now, but Alec is still needed at the Institute often enough that he's only stayed the night through a handful of times. And Magnus doesn't mind, he thinks as he rolls onto his back, spread-eagled across the bed beneath the mounds of covers. He doesn't want Alec to need to choose. Alec knows he's welcome any time, and he closes his eyes and smiles at the memory of his face when Magnus had tossed him two glitter-coated keys on a ring. It hadn't been ceremonial, he hadn't wanted Alec to feel as if Magnus was putting him on the spot or asking for some kind of commitment he wasn't ready for yet. It may have only made it more obvious; Magnus is never casual.
But the keys hang right next to the array of keys Alec carries for Institute things now, and neither of them had needed to feel uncomfortable about the gift. Magnus is willing to call that a win in his crusade to keep Alec comfortable. Relationships take work, but the bigger challenge is ensuring that this relationship (and their vastly diverse experience levels) doesn't move too abruptly in one direction or the other. Slow and steady, he's told himself. It's been his opportunity to work on that patience virtue he's sometimes neglected over the years. Which is a good thing. Certainly. Even when he watches the way Alec is treated by the higher-ups at the Clave (absolutely including his own parents) and a part of him burns to just take him away from all their bureaucratic traditions and infighting.
Even when Alec isn't here, Magnus thinks about him. Sometimes he thinks he can hear his voice when... Magnus opens his eyes again and shifts onto his elbows as a stray breeze brings him faint sounds from the patio. He is hearing his voice. But who is Alec talking to? What time does anyone call this?
With a resigned sigh, Magnus slithers to the edge of the bed and wraps himself in a rather sedate deep blue embroidered dressing gown. When he moves into the sitting room he can see Alec sitting on a chair with his back to the door, surrounded by cats, and in fact talking to the cats. Alec is talking to his cats. And they're all listening intently, which makes Magnus come to a halt in the shadows, curious despite himself about what's so engrossing that even Church is perched nearby with a paw on Alec's arm.
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His palms are open in front of him as he gestures animatedly, no more than usual, really, but... sincerely. It doesn't seem to be phasing the cats, if anything it keeps them engaged, and Alec's not sure why he cares, thinks maybe he should feel more crazy that he feels better the cats are paying attention than he would if he was just talking to himself. Regardless, he can't seem to stop talking. Maybe it's something about their eyes. Suddenly he's grinning, and off on another tangent, something awkwardly poetic about Magnus' beautiful eyes he would never, ever say out loud normally and it's almost enough to make him stop. Almost.
He pulls the keys out of his pocket, dangles them in front of the nearest cat, just out of her reach, and keeps talking while she takes a few lazy swipes at the glittering metal.
"He gave me these. He wants me here. It's my second home, too," he announces to the cats like he's one of them now. And then what he said sinks in.
It's enough to finally stop the stream of consciousness rambling. Enough to alert him to eyes on his back he should have sensed sooner. He doesn't startle, however, just swivels in his chair enough to shoot an absolutely blinding grin at Magnus. Who probably heard Angel knows how much of what Alec has been saying.
But it's been the truth, so... maybe that's okay.
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"I should also apologize for the chair," he says, leaning to one side and examining it critically. To the naked eye, it looks perfectly ordinary, but... "I sat there last night while I was enchanting a truth-telling amulet for someone, and, well...I suppose I got a little sloppy with things."
That doesn't mean he isn't about to turn gracefully and settle into Alec's lap, however, settling his arms around Alec's shoulders. Should he...address any of the things he'd heard? Would it be easier to let this morning slip away unremarked? But that isn't fair, is it? Alec has revealed what's in his heart, after all. "It could be," he says softly, looking at the keys in Alec's hand. "Your second home. I'd never ask...of course I know how important your work is at the Institute, but if you wanted...to stay."
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@mothersdrapes
So he did the only thing he could: he wrote another fire message.]
Dear handsome prince--
Tonight at sunset I saw a shooting star above the horizon. It was a ridiculously photogenic moment, it didn't even look real, and I wished you were here to laugh at nature with me.
I've turned up a few more tidbits of information about the Stones in myths and legends, but from what I can tell, the only one that had ever been here for any length of time is the one you already know about. I hope you're making more progress. I've made a lot more progress on containment spells for them than on researching what they do, if you still don't want to store more than one at a time on Asgard bring it back here.
Or just bring yourself. You must have more scars by now that you need to show off.
I miss you.
<3 Magnus
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Distance really didn't mean the same to two people who could live for centuries, and Thor knew deep down that it wouldn't change anything, other than increase his hunger for Magnus for when they finally did reunite. And perhaps appreciate that loft just a little bit more when he returned to Brooklyn. ]
My dazzling warlock,
I wish I had been able to laugh at that sight with you as well. Just like I wish it had been you keeping me warm last night, and not - well, it doesn't need writing down. It was not pleasant, and I have yet to be able to bathe.
My search is becoming just as fruitless. We knew where three of the Stones were at the start of all this, and that is all the information we still have. If I wanted to be honest with myself, I'm not sure how much longer I can do this. I had more faith in my vision than this...
Oh, you would have really enjoyed the last planet. I have tried to send back some gifts with an ally that was returning to Earth. I hope they find you, just ignore the hair. It's not their fault. I would have brought them back to you myself but we both know there is no way for me to know when that is.
I look forward to the day you can discover the scars for yourself, M.
Just as I look forward to finding out that you have no doubt grown more beautiful in my absence.
I ache for you, warlock.
Yours,
Thor.
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Good morning, Charming. Yes, I know it's afternoon, but SOMEone kept me up all night.
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Is that really a complaint, M? Or just a reminder that I made sure you enjoyed yourself every single second?
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@stoicandsarcastic
Oh, so it's a theme! Very clever. I'll love whatever you turn up with, as long as you bring yourself ;)
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From there it's easy enough to slip from the club and across the street to the Chinese restaurant; he's a frequent enough visitor (or perhaps a memorable enough one) that there's a little banter while Alec waits for his order. The bag he's handed is heavier than he thinks it should be but he simply says a gracious thanks and heads up to Magnus' penthouse.
The door opens easily to his knock, and he calls out for his boyfriend. "Magnus...?"
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He straightens up and inhales, the scent of the food creeping ahead of Alec himself. "Oh, that smells amazing. It's been far longer than I thought since I ate something, you're a lifesaver."
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"I do enjoy saving your life," he murmurs, teasingly. And suddenly glad he got more than Magnus had asked for. "Do you have time for a break?"
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@hisstorical
After Crowley doesn't answer his final, rather snarky text, Magnus doesn't give the exchange another thought. Less than a week later, the invitation arrives: the new conclave of High Warlocks, held every ten years, this time to be held at the home of Ragnor Fell, the High Warlock of London. Of course. Fate has a hilarious sense of humor.
In spite of Magnus's reservations toward visiting London again, he does look forward to visiting Ragnor. They've been best friends for centuries, after all, and after the other High Warlocks disperse back to their home cities, Magnus lingers, drinking and bickering and reminiscing with Ragnor until dawn. He should go home, get some rest—he has a nightclub he's opening, after all, he needs his rest—but, well. He's already here. He borrows a dose of Ragnor's energy-restoring potion and portals to a friendly shop in Chelsea.
Walking down the street, he fishes out his phone and calls Crowley. "It just so happens I'm in the neighborhood. Well, I'm in Chelsea, I don't know your neighborhood."
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As long as said distraction doesn't know about it.
"It can't be a certain wizard of my acquaintance, he's allergic to England or some such thing."
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"What on earth are you doing in Chelsea?"
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@cuttingremark
You know the way.
[It could be a sudden appearance in his living room, or it could be a knock at his door. There isn't any way to predict it, so Magnus takes a welcome break from what he's been doing, namely: cleaning. It's terrible. He's had magic for these little chores, and not only is he realizing how much time he'd saved, he isn't very good at cleaning. In fact, he's grimy, sweaty, exhausted, and worst of all, he looks it.
He has to take a break to get ready. Even if his magic is gone, he isn't going to look like it. He showers, dresses, does his hair, his eyeliner—getting better at that, though it's still shaky around the edges—and he's at ease in his living room with a book when Loki does arrive.]
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[Normally Loki doesn't teleport straight into Magnus' home. While his wards don't actually prevent him from entering, but it does make it much uncomfortable. After the warlock said his wards were weakened, though...
Well he had to see.
It was embarrassingly easy to get in, he barely even felt a tug when he crossed the threshold, so to speak. With very little warning he's standing in Magnus' living room in a smart, black suit.]
By the Norns, you weren't joking about needing help.
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He sets the book aside and unfolds from the sofa, spreading his hands with a little sheepish shrug.]
As you can see, I am somewhat overdue for an upgrade, but I haven't been feeling my old self recently.
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@strictum
I do, and you sound delightfully shocked. It isn't something I have the time for most of the time, but when I can, I'll pick something up. Haven't you any guilty pleasures, Alexander?
[Magnus is a very disruptive reader. He doesn't do any of this while watching movies, but when reading? He huffs at the text, laughs aloud, makes little exclamations, tells the characters not to do that. Hums appreciatively during the steamy parts.
Alec would have been distracted in more ways than one, most likely.]
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[ Deflect! Deflect! ]
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@sateless
[The dots go a little longer, but only for a few seconds this time. He might as well spill.]
I told him to follow his heart, and foolishly thought that would mean he'd follow it to me. Instead, he followed it to a Shadowhunter of good family, to help restore the Lightwood name.
It's a waste of a beautiful soul.
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And yet I feel compelled to ask: beautiful soul or a beautiful face? What do you know of this little narc aside from the fact he values social currency with the Clave over whatever it is you've shown him of yourself?
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And such a romantic, Vlad. :P I don't know. Honestly. I don't know. I just have a feeling about him. There's something there. I haven't felt like this in a long time. Too long. Too long to sit back and watch this happen.
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