One Cup Of Alternate Dimension

Chapter 7: Hey, Only Fools Rush In


Chrom ended up calling Lissa to the coffee shop for a nurse's perspective. Morgan was still teary and almost catatonic, having read novels where amnesia was poorly written because it's just not easy to pin down what causes the condition and why. The fact someone could lose their memory or completely change as a person because of even a seemingly minor head injury was insane. It was so heavy that Morgan didn't want to think about it. She wanted to completely bail, if she was being honest.

One minute Lissa was bursting through the door. "Where's Inigo?!" She shouted, somehow having missed her nephew entirely in panic.

One minute everyone backed up to allow Lissa to get closer and go through the motions of examining his head, trying to get him to respond. Checking for a heartbeat wasn't necessary; he was breathing normally. She even smiled gently, looking up at Chrom and Olivia seconds away from biting their nails she was sure he was just unconscious.

One minute Lucina made an awkward grab for Morgan's shoulder and said this world was just too chaotic for an actually serious situation. She had a feeling like Naga Herself was watching, rolling her eyes at what they did like they actually believed someone was going to die. And just to show there wasn't too much lingering tension between two people who had no reason to ever be friends, Lucina moved behind the counter to prepare a basic tea for her.

Morgan found her cheery voice long enough to request she go all out with one of those "latte" things.

Lucina nodded, rolling up her sleeves ready to take on the challenge.

The best minute was when Inigo's eyes fluttered open as Chrom and Frederick carried him into the former's car. Morgan was right at his side, totally ignoring Olivia and Lissa's warnings to be gentle as she squeezed his hand in both of hers. But Inigo's lids were still drooping, and though glazed he still looked right at her face and asked how hard he hit his head. One time when he was searching symptoms online he learned about "phantom smells" and wondered if that was why he smelled chai.

"Morgan, we really need to get Inigo home to rest-" Chrom's pathetic words died as he watched the chaos unfolding in front of him.

Inigo was definitely affected by the injury somehow, despite clearly unaware of the situation and quietly groaning when he lifted his head up toward Morgan... Somehow he still had her flustered when he leaned in close to her face as if to find the source. Morgan thought her heart would stop if his lips found hers, but when there was that iffy matter of consent and grey areas and morality and...

"...Reminds me of when I rediscovered my crush on you."

Morgan staggered, wishing she could pull aside Lissa and ask her to perform a hearing test. But this was her and Inigo's moment, and though a little nervous with everyone else now just looking slightly peeved at the hold up she smiled sheepishly back at him.

"You don't think you'll regret saying that when you're fully conscious?" Morgan asked taking one hand and nervously twirling a strand of hair. In the back of her mind she knew Inigo would pull off that gesture a hell of a lot better than her.

"There's a time and place, Morgan." Frederick cut in much more firmly. His eyes would have rolled to the back of his head if he kept that up.

Morgan didn't even look up, just forcing a smile when with tear streak still on her face. "You'll get better, Inigo. And you'll get to give lattes a chance too; if you can remember long term things you probably don't have amnesia."

Morgan told herself it was Inigo's palm that was clammy, not hers, as she released it and just stood there watching him be carried away. Her mind was complete chaos, not the kind she was used to. Before Lissa got into the car with Chrom she gave her a sympathetic shoulder touch, explained the injury was at a location that shouldn't be cause for concern and it was just a small bump. If he was still able to be conscious and knew his surroundings, even better. It was unclear if she was just saying that or not, but death wouldn't benefit this atmosphere they've crafted.


The coffee shop hadn't been closed despite one less worker, and Morgan was determined to fulfill her part of the superfluous deal with Chrom as well as get all the intel she could about him. But once the man himself returned after making sure Inigo was conscious and at least vaguely comfortable back home the new atmosphere was tense. Olivia seemed distracted, so much so when customers shook her out of it she wasn't even awkward. Lucina kept checking her phone, hopes of Inigo giving updates on his condition getting few and far between. Mother and daughter even exchanged super exclusive eye communication about Morgan when she blurted his name from the sheer stress.

Morgan couldn't be sure if Chrom and Olivia knew anything; maybe they chose to be oblivious on this certain subject. That time in the fancy restaurant, well, Lucina wasn't subtle about leaving a potential couple alone. But then again, did this woman know anything about love despite having a kind of/sort of relationship? Back in her world, Lucina was so obsessed with heroic deeds she really didn't have time to humor a hopeless romantic lifestyle. Honestly, humor wasn't even in her vocabulary. Even so, Lucina and Gerome spent some lonely nights together somehow not getting up to the obvious cure for said loneliness. A bystander may or may not catch Lucina lying her head on his shoulder while Gerome nuzzled her hair. Now whether or not this bystander would live to deliver the news, um-

Ultimately, the time Morgan spent moping was glossed over because it was actually affecting the atmosphere. Customers would come in looking quite normal, only to catch Morgan's gloomy aura and suddenly change their order to an espresso. From what Morgan gathered, these drinks were used to inject life back into a glorified corpse. At least, that's what Chrom said unprompted as if there was some edgy story to unravel there.

It was a very agonizing hour before Lucina's phone chimed with a text. By that point Morgan's system not only had the latte from earlier for calming purposes, but Chrom kept her from miserably sweeping the same spot by giving her two rounds of espresso free of charge because he had no idea what this day had become.

"WHAT'S THE NEWS?!" Morgan was the first to shout, caffeine already working.

The family gathered around Lucina's cellphone, because Chrom and Olivia didn't bring theirs to work apparently...? Anyhow, everyone was practically holding their breath despite knowing Inigo was the only person who would actually spell out his words and use punctuation in a text. He probably thought he could attract girls born in wrong generation, unaware that's just begging for carpal tunnel.

Tell Mother, Father and Morgan I'm conscious. Aunt Lissa did the entire emergency room act, but I breezed through each question and she says the bump isn't a big deal. My head and back are killing me, though. Aunt Lissa is going out for more pain pills, so I'm going to use this rare occasion of an empty house to rest. I doubt I can sleep until I take pills, unfortunately.

But it's strange... My memory seems to be intact, but I feel like I forgot something important.

Morgan is probably still at the coffee shop; ask her if she has any feelings like that and report back. Please?

Lucina looked around awkwardly, now unsure what to do since her role of messenger was taken away by everyone's nosiness. But collective sighs of relief were passed around, Morgan being no exception as the caffeine coursed through her veins in medically horrific ways.

"There's so much we don't know about amnesia." Olivia spoke up first, surprisingly. "I hope there's no hidden effects we just can't see."

"He's tough." Chrom interjected, definitely forcing optimism. "The amount of times he's taken falls learning to dance have almost certainly strengthened him."

"People!" Morgan shouted again, making everyone else cringe right on time by making a more thunderous clap. "Inigo did forget something! I can't accept this as normal! And- And it's my fault! I'll drown in guilt if I don't say right now: I left a STUPID-"

The doors suddenly flew open as a trio of placeholder teenagers entered. It was two guys seemingly fused to one girl's arms, glaring daggers at the other while she led them inside radiating oblivious sunshine and loveliness.

"Be right with you!" Chrom called out instinctively, blatantly stepping around Morgan as if to block her negative energy from spreading.

"Take your time!" The bubbly girl responded, waving casually. "I came for the coffee, but I would die for a good latte- Ooh! Especially if you use tea! Do you use tea? Because I've made lattes at home, they kinda sucked because I didn't have enough..."

Morgan helplessly looked around as Chrom and Olivia went back around the counter like it was nothing. Her mouth was opening and closing like one of the most overused comparisons in writing, and Lucina just gave her a single glance of pity before patting her shoulder and going to the teens' table. She was either going to take their order or remove the boys with a crowbar. Either way, she was in no mood to deal with this but had clearly made up her true strength comes from enduring work. Never mind the fact that's not a healthy mindset when dealing with work, yes Morgan who never worked a day in her life before coming to this world knew that.

Speaking of Morgan, her face must have been sagging in a struggle over what emotion to show. She could take a hint: the family was seriously prepared to try to finish the work day. She knew she couldn't continue her confession with not only those placeholder teens, but more incoming customers clearly having gotten off work early based on their clothes.

Morgan did approach the counter, however. She dramatically smacked it with her palms and leaned uncomfortably close to Chrom and Olivia. Never mind the fact the steam from the drinks they held was rising directly in her face. If they could try to be "strong" during a bad time, so could Morgan.

"There's two blessings I kinda/sorta need from you two." Morgan told them dramatically. It was either her nervousness or the steam making her sweat.

"Morgan, you and Inigo need to be dating before you can ask for marriage." Chrom reminded her.

"Then I have one." Morgan leaned a little closer, serious face never changing as she drilled into these innocent people's souls as she spoke. "If you give me permission to enter your home, I promise I won't mess anything up. Or eat your food. Or peek at your medicine. All I want is your son- Ah- In a not at all compromising position!"

Chrom and Olivia exchanged mentally exhausted expressions, but when they married they probably meant it in their super dusty and traditional vows best edited in modern times... They would help each other in distress. For that reason when Olivia reached for one of the house keys, Chrom put his hand on it too and kept her from regretting her choice of accepting Morgan into their home.

Morgan snatched the key fast and over the top enough to leave their hands scarred, but don't worry because those marks on their palms were just callouses from making coffee.


Thankfully for Morgan Chrom and family's house was within walking distance from the cafe, making her wonder why they needed a car to escort Inigo away. For the sake of not sweeping this problem under the rug, Morgan decided to believe it was just for dramatic narrative purposes in the history books. There was no time to focus on that; her attention was now sold to the adorable, cozy little house in front of her. Indeed it looked effortlessly charming compared to her family's.

Morgan sucked in a breath, choked on it unnecessarily and tested the knob. She wasn't surprised the door was unlocked; Lissa hadn't meant to be out long, and Inigo should be able to stab an intruder's throat in this universe as you do when catching a whiff of danger. The inside was colored stylishly, had an open design where she could see was inside the kitchen but could peer around a bar into the living room. There were no pets or clutter to trip over, so that was good. In fact, this house was almost so nice that she couldn't fully believe they lived here when not at work. But... She tried to forget that and search for Inigo. She thought he might be resting on the couch, kicking his feet up and indulging in this streaming thing Robin tried to teach her about... He was not.

Morgan wasn't so nosy as to ask his parents for the layout of their house, no she couldn't ask for another favor after the huge one that was their son in general. When she replayed that moment, she was bizarrely regretful about the way it happened. Almost like she had self-awareness. Almost like she wanted to leave a good impression, you know, just in case she and Inigo had a future. Oh, why was she so fixated on that? She hit her head against the back of their couch for good measure; she felt so ridiculous for letting any preoccupation with a person override her mind.

Like she had a crush, or something horrifically basic like that. She didn't have a problem with liking anyone seeing as such a thing wasn't possible to control. But deep down she knew reciprocation was blue moon unlikely. Then she thought that was shockingly similar to Inigo. Then she happily thought they had something in common, so why not hook up in a romantic definition?

Well, if that somehow managed to happen... She couldn't stand the thought of it getting blocked by their fathers' issues. And yes, that sounds sketchy AF but hear her out: they wouldn't be so thrilled to hear their kids could someday merge the families together. She remembered an obscure story she read once about a teenage couple wrecking their families rep by being over-dramatic and in love while making youth across the world severely misinterpret its message thanks to the story being pushed on them by the education system.

Her mind was full of thoughts like that as she traveled through the house like a ghost with crappy sense of direction. She tried to focus on things like the fact there were pictures on the wall and shelves featuring younger Robin and Chrom being bros, and a calendar in the kitchen that had the anniversary of their friendship circled- Huh- That was only three days away.

Her wrist throbbed, and not in a carpal tunnel way. She hurriedly withdrew her journal and marked that detail down. It went something like Chrom still pines for Robin. Interpret that however. She did have enough decency to scold herself for focusing on that instead of visiting the injured party. It probably sounded selfish to still want to peek into Chrom's personal belongings for a sign to confirm her theory, but she couldn't lie; it was. But maybe she and Inigo could make it a fun activity if he was able to walk around. She had a feeling he was the type to stay back while others were busted by the authorities. See, pretty people are the least suspected.

This situation didn't have enough weight to be stretched out, so details were set aside as Morgan came to a door and had a hunch this was the one. And because Morgan was rarely wrong, in her mind, she carefully opened it and took a peek. The lights were off, but the blinds were open letting in the sun. That sun was almost specifically set to cast a gleam over the bed that was right by the window with a body occupying it.

Morgan didn't dare step through the doorway without permission. She had questionable morality sometimes, but not this time. She could see Inigo lying face down in his pillow, the top blanket haphazard over his body. From little coverage of the blanket she noticed he'd changed into a short sleeved shirt and long and baggy pajama pants. Then she realized she hadn't seen him dressed casually before, and if he was sacrificing appearance like that he must have been hurt.

So she didn't, like, kill him but... Could he forgive her for causing injury? She wanted to shout across the room, but that might trigger a worse headache. She furiously dug around her bag for her phone, hoping he turned the volume down on his before she did what she was about to.

People passing by the residence might see one half of the building shake from the perfectly clean and inoffensive pop song that blasted through the core of the world. However, that is unrealistic and therefore used only as a comedy attempt. It wasn't effing funny, what-

Inigo jumped up immediately, legs thrown over the edge so fast it was miraculous he didn't fall. He scrambled to answer his phone, unaware of the presence in his doorway. Morgan softly told him through the phone to look up, and through probably blurry eyes he did.

"Morgan, what-"

"I'm so sorry I caused you pain!" Morgan shouted after ending the call, certain she looked a combo of emotional and not sane. "The stupid puddle was my fault! I wanted to talk to you all day, actually! I never WANTED to ignore your or anything! Because what I REALLY want is-"

Inigo set his phone aside, rising from the bed and crossing the floor in seemingly slow motion. Morgan was a suspenseful wreck, trying not to lean into the room and technically be inside. He quietly noticed why she wasn't letting her feet through the doorway, the fact he caught on so quickly meaning he had dealt with her enough to at least truly understand one of her ways. Morgan would have been happy about that if it meant her, not yet another alternate knockoff.

"I know you forgot one thing, and you shouldn't have. Like we've all said before, amnesia is a common issue in my family and even though well brush it off... It sucks a lot." Morgan told him, sniffling a lot but at least keeping tears at bay.

"Morgan-"

"No! I hate how my father can't remember the platonic fun times with your father, and I even get frustrated not being able to remember my childhood! Amnesia isn't a cute, quirky little plot device to give and take away when it's convenient! It's a real condition, screw it, and-"

"Morgan..."

"I swear, Inigo! You don't know how many stories I've read that make light of a serious condition!"

"But that sounds like all literature-"

Morgan kept leaning forward on her toes as if she wanted to run into Inigo. Whether that be his arms or body in general like a punching bag would be up for debate. He had his feet planted, too. Even with a bad headache he was ready for her to break her own moral code. If you can believe she has one.

The fact Morgan's moral code still hung by a thread, plus her own frustration and guilt piling up had her huffing and pacing the doorway like a caged lion.

Inigo decided to do the distance removal for her, enough to risk triggering his own shyness by grabbing her hand. That was the ultimate magic, like, what kind was that and where could Morgan learn it? If he remembered how casually he was dressed and noticed the crust in his eyes he probably wouldn't have done this, so Morgan kept her big mouth shut at least about that. He would say one sentence that would send her own brain to its destruction and reassembling all in the time it took to speak.

"That memory I forgot was about you."

Something inside Morgan grew to burst, whether heart or ego... Who knows?

Their hands were doing some very tame skin to skin contact as they searched each other for whatever mood-inappropriate comment they were nearly bursting to make.

Inigo stepped even closer, trying to be cool about stroking her cheek. "That memory might help me... I still feel the effects of it, which don't get me wrong; they're not the best. But if I don't confront how I felt that day, I don't know if I can make any progress in what I've been trying to for some time."

"That makes it sound like you want to give me a world-shattering reveal." Morgan said hopefully, unable to keep a smile from her face. Of course, she read enough to know where this would go.

That smile brought realization to Inigo, or at least he seemed to connect this entire scene and the implications as embarrassment finally caught up on his face.

"See... It might..."

"It... Might be something great?!"

"It's all up to you if you think so."

Inigo pulled back one his hands, closing it over his mouth like it had spoken the deadliest of language. Like he couldn't believe he was letting this information slip, but it did its job. It had Morgan's negative emotions chased away and possibly destroyed.

"Well, I'll stay by your side until that memory's triggered or... At least until you're sick of me!" Morgan declared just as passionately as it sounded in her head, she thought. She pulled Inigo forward by the hand, making him step over the doorway line with her as their faces came within kissing distance.

Inigo had to force himself to be calm because the combo of embarrassment and glee he wore couldn't be smothered out. He was too caught up in the moment to actually agree to her vow, but hoped she took a hint from both his face and the fact he didn't disengage from the crazy.

Make no mistake; Inigo's headache was still active. He would admit to Morgan something about the words they shared, the roller coaster of feelings she brought on made him able to stay awake and even walk around. However, Morgan didn't want him to push the power of the medical world. Morgan would ask for permission to enter his room like a boring normal person, had it granted, and would take him back to his head less like a romantic interest and more like a healer who had it up to here with a stubborn patient and had to guide him back to his bed herself.

Not to say that couldn't have romantic elements... Her fingers betrayed her and kept lowering to brush his knuckles as she was supposed to be taking him by the wrist. Inigo enjoyed their walk, even if he clearly thought he looked uncool in front of her having to be sent to bed. But Morgan wasn't heartless, really, she had one in her chest at that very minute skipping beats as she lingered at his side while he curled on the bed.

The moment couldn't end sensibly, of course. Morgan would drop to her knees, visibly flustering him as she took his hands in hers. "Can you let me into your parents' bedroom while I'm here? I care about your health, but this is something I need to do." She expected him to ask, then she'd have to reveal being a Morgan from another world. Then try to logically break down the state of multiple worlds-

Inigo just gave her a weak smile and a squeeze for at least one hand. "Morgan, I would expect nothing less when you come over to my house. It's always something. And... I'm in. I know you didn't ask for my help, but you'll need a look-out for when Aunt Lissa returns."

"I won't ask to make you dizzier." Morgan declined, shaking her head.

"Please." Inigo tried to flash emotional eyes before she grit her teeth and stubbornly looked away.

All it took was for Inigo to withdraw one hand to graze her cheek super passionately. The guy made sure that each skin cell was tingling, and it wasn't even under an intimate set up. Morgan knew he could feel her shift nervously beneath him, see her eyes from the side fighting to keep from looking at him. But he was seducing her whether he actively knew or not.

Oh, if he didn't know what he was doing then... Then Morgan lost all faith in humanity.

"Believe it or not, I want to help you." Inigo confessed, speaking just so soft. The cotton soft tone was far too pure for him to have been putting it on.

"Don't put yourself at risk of fainting from dizziness or just being tired in general for me. I know I'm epic, but I'm not a god and I certainly don't condone possible boyfriends putting me on a pedestal; I can do that for myself." Morgan knew it was pointless, but she had to convince him.

But she brought her forehead close to his and just enjoyed silken hair against it and his overall presence. Now she felt like she could pass out, but it wasn't even in a scary way. She had been putting the effect he had on her in the back of her mind all too often lately, now it was catching up.

The sound of the front door getting thrown open made them jump. Inigo looked at her worryingly, but Morgan clasped his hand to squeeze it and express she had full confidence in herself to get in and out before Lissa could notice. How? That's the power of positive thinking, which is an art long lost by humanity so only true fighters can obtain this ability.


When Morgan accidentally made herself look like a total creep, sneaking out of Inigo's room and all that... Okay... Lissa should have been able to see her. The woman was just across the way of this wide open house, seated at the bar facing her yet gazing down at the pills she was unscrewing the cap off. Looking from the corner of your eyes is a thing; it's an overused writing description for a reason. Fortunately, the rooms were so close together Morgan had no trouble bursting in.

Morgan found herself looking around at yet another trendy room. The large double bed in the center was perfectly made, and there wasn't a lost clothing item or belonging in general littering the floor. It almost didn't look like anyone slept there with the clean set up. All Morgan could think was that it was so Chrom and Olivia to maintain order like this.

She would have tried to hide her tracks, but any attempt to commit to stealth immediately died when she turned swiftly and stepped into a clothes hamper. She let out a gasp, twisting and falling backward. At least, that's what would have happened if she didn't catch herself with heels digging into the clothes pile and floor respectively with her back hovering over the crisp blankets. To say leaning back that far as a feat few could achieve was an understatement, so of course Morgan was struggling.

All she could do was gawk at the off ceiling light above her, sweating as she could hear Lissa from the next room addressing Inigo. She tried to calm her thoughts, but they were something like fix your position! Aah! Hurry! Gerome really should be here to mock you right now! and it was as if every bone in her foot stuck in the plastic hell was flexing a bit too much. But she had to keep away from the bed.

It was either dumb luck or Naga giving her a break, but while Morgan was trying to look for things to gawk at to focus, keep from worrying how close she was to slipping, she caught something gold in the corner of her eye. Back in her world, gold either meant a suspenseful treasure chest or actual collection of the real stuff just waiting for lecherous fingers.

She didn't have PROOF that was valuable. But... She could trust her gut, she hoped. And Naga was looking down right now, maybe she guided her eyes there for a reason. She just needed to believe in anything as she made a daring push forward.

She wasn't out of the woods... If anything, she lost her only light source and was consumed by the most uninspired of demon trees. That was how Morgan felt as she made a faceplant on the floor, just feeling the soft wind stirred by clothes getting thrown about from the tipped over hamper.

But it was still a victory; the brown floor didn't look it, but it turned out to be carpeted enough to muffle all that noise. Maybe it was selfish to think Naga was looking out for only her, but you can't argue with evidence.

Carrying a somewhat bruised pride and mostly battered ankle, Morgan picked herself up and approached the gold object on the dresser. A somewhat sizable box, she realized, one that she could think of few reasons why it would be used except to be extra. Neither Chrom nor Olivia matched that description, so Morgan was close to writing off the box as something to store jewelry and move on... Until she realized there was a little mechanism for a code.

How could she possibly leave that alone?

"Could be a weapon in there, I get it." Morgan thought to herself, gleefully extending a finger to poke at the first piece of a three-digit code. The numbers slowly moved upward, but it left her in awe. "This isn't normal, though! One of them is hiding something! This is too elaborate to just be a tissue box or make up case... I'm not out of line for thinking it's important, right? Back home, Gerome keeps a massive box of mementos because he's secretly a caring guy like that. It would be great if Chrom did the same thing here. If that's true, where there's smoke there's a way back to where you belong. That's how the saying goes, right?"

As Morgan lost herself to her thoughts, she rested her arms up on the dresser and went through all number combinations possible from one to nine. She thought she could get over-powered and get it on the second attempt to have an awesome story to tell back home, unfortunately no. And she couldn't help but let out a slightly grumpy sigh, watching the numbers roll and not add up to anything important.

"Nine numbers... Three numbers required... This shouldn't be hard, and you have no business making it so for dramatic effect! But there's only so much time before the end of the day, and if the parents of the guy you're interested in catch you doing mischief in their bedroom..."

Speaking of mischief in other people's bedrooms, Morgan heard the closet open behind her. She jumped, but had nowhere to go so she dropped her head into her arms as if to blend into the dresser. It wasn't her best plan, don't rub it in. She was confused as to why she didn't hear people scolding her for being where she wasn't meant to, until she realized there hadn't been any noise. She turned around fast, expecting someone to be sneaking up to her with a knife but no.

She was just staring at the open closet across the room, the mirror attached to the inside of the door merely reflecting her paranoid face with an inappropriately-stored red wig. And yes, Morgan considered that wig carefully, noting the resemblance of a certain lovesick Shepherd. No, she didn't like the icky thought of her still pining for Chrom beyond worlds and hanging out in his closet while he was both sleeping and sleeping with his wife. Gods no.

Morgan shook her head and turned away from the sight, hoping that was fake hair. But she swore she saw strands move if she looked too long. She didn't want to be a witness or have to try to help Cordelia when... Wait a minute... Severa existed. Morgan didn't often remember her for reasons not to be brought up in a way that could slander her, but yes Severa was very much existing so Cordelia did manage to find a happily ever after. All Morgan had to do was look for the hair color, but even she made mistakes.

For the time being, Morgan pulled out drawers carefully as to not disturb the contents' original positions and definitely wasn't checking over her shoulder to see if the hair moved or to catch a person. When that didn't happen, she busied herself looking behind a bookshelf and crawling under the desk. The only thing she could think to do when she came up with nothing was going through Chrom and Olivia's clothes. Did she have to explain why that would be a terrible way to lead into potentially acquiring them as in-laws someday?

"Amateur."

Morgan's back tensed in an instant as the word shredded her eardrums like broken glass and rang on repeat. She sucked in a breath, finding that trying to speak would only light her lungs on fire. The sound of her working out a newfound knot between her shoulder blades was too gross to dwell on so she ignored that and just looked behind her... At whoever dared to utter such foul language.

Not- Not that she was offended, or any-

She found a head of red hair connected to a woman with a punch-worthy smile. But instead of cascading down her back, this was tied high and bobbing with her addict-like constant movement. With a finger held to her lips as if to keep it from spilling the secrets attached to her job description, it couldn't be anyone else but Anna. Which one? Well, instead of the merchant garb or red armor she decked herself out in an outfit of a tunic and leggings with boots combo obviously from this world... An outfit Morgan hated to admit was cute, even if dated according to the annoyingly inconsistent fashion trends.

As infuriated as Morgan was to be called a dirty word, she did make a note to find an outfit like that later. For now, however, she could only stare as Anna withdrew a single physical photograph from her shirt pocket and held it out to her. But only for a brief flash almost as if to keep her from focusing and seeing spoilers for the future.

But Morgan saw enough, cooling down enough and catching herself smiling briefly. "How are all these people surviving their thirties with communication issues?" She didn't expect an answer, ruin the world's system that way.

Anna withdrew the photograph of younger Robin and Chrom at some event in their college campus holding on to one another in a not entirely unromantic way and giving peace signs while some people in the background looked effing dead. Context can save a life, but it's running late.

When Morgan tried to reach for it again, Anna left her gasping and staring dumbly as she yanked it away and held it high. Morgan wasn't so smart she didn't try jumping for it, leading to one of the most generic abuses of shorter people like that's hilarious so let's fly right past that.

"Why are you doing this?!" Morgan spat at the end of her final leap, flushed and glaring daggers.

Anna casually fanned herself with the photo, gazing at the ceiling in mock thought. "Sneaking into Chrom and Robin's bedrooms looking for keys to get out of this world, you mean?"

"Don't try to be cute!" Morgan yelled, suddenly not caring if Lissa overheard. Hell, getting thrown out could actually wipe that look off Anna's face. "I know about you Annas! You're all, like, weirdly informed about the world I come from! I wouldn't be surprised if you know the secrets of dimension travel; you just have that look about you! But you won't share the information with anyone else... It's shady, okay?!"

"You're barely making sense, honey." Anna told her 'soothingly', rushing in to pat her on the head before Morgan jerked away.

"I read books." Morgan huffed, trying to keep her nose in the air with any remaining dignity. "If this were a story, there would be some kind of inter-dimensional travel gate made by the gods. An ordinary merchant girl would discover it, but because of knowing what she's not meant to she's split into several copies and sent to the various worlds to look for pieces to put herself back together."

"Sounds pretty uninspired to me." Anna commented with a big yawn behind the photo, before stuffing it away and turning with her hands held behind her head. Ponytail swishing. Unbearable.

"You called me an- An- Am... Ugh..." Morgan lowered her voice painfully, shambling after Anna as walked to the desk and pulled a random drawer. "Do we have any conflict I should know about?"

"Conflict from your world or this one?" Anna asked with just a little seriousness leaking into her voice.

Morgan's head just hurt, and she really didn't know what mood won to take over. But she knew that photo was important; it just... There was something about the wonderful vibes coming off it, just ignore the potential corpses.


TBC