happilyeverbeginning | There's a strange exhilaration / In such total detestation (scrooge x magica)

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There's a strange exhilaration / In such total detestation (scrooge x magica)

Magica's fingers strummed on the desk. Without her phone, she was bored as sin. Her long nails made clacking sounds on the desk, echoing in the empty classroom. Once she got her phone back, the school would pay dearly for this. You didn't give detention to Magica De Spell! So what if she was texting in class? It wasn't like she was learning anything important. They should feel privileged she was there.

But nooo, miss whats-her-face actually reported her to the principal, and here she was. She grumbled, glaring at the clock - time moved way too slowly when you were being punished. How could this get any worse?

The door opened, and she straightened up - maybe someone had used their few brain cells and knew to get her out of there. Nope - instead, things did indeed get worse as she saw one of the teachers shoving Scrooge McDuck into the room.

Great. Fantastic. Add to her punishment, why don't you. She rolled her eyes, leaned back into her seat and propped her legs on the desk.

"What did they send you in here for?" She sneered. "Is being a buzzkill a crime now?"

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Magica blinked. Would he actually be interested in the context of those books? ... What were the contexts of those books?

"Long as you put it back when you're done. Otherwise, I wouldn't worry about it. They're more like trophies for the old man to brag about."

She got off Scrooge, touching her door.

"... If you need directions or whatever, I'll... keep the door unlocked."

The uncomfortable feeling was becoming mutual. This ran a risk of him seeing the contents of her bedroom - which didn't suit the preppy, "too cool for school" attitude she'd been trying to maintain among her peers. Occult tomes, drawn symbols on the floor, cases of quartz, not to mention the raven.

... Would he care? And why did she care if he did? Goddammit, was she feeling shy?

He blinked at her for a moment before offering an awkward little smile.

"Thanks."

They stood there a moment longer, awkwardly trying to figure out what to do next. This was the most civil they had been since... they had first met, really. And it's not like they wanted to ruin it.

So of course it got ruined, via Magica forgetting why they were both there in the first place - her ankle. She unthinkingly put weight on it, unthinkingly leaned on the door, and thus unthinkingly -

"GAH!"

- fell backwards into her room. A picture perfect display of grace and dignity.

Scrooge jerked in surprise as the peaceful moment was interrupted. He put a palm to his face for a moment before taking a deep breath to suppress the laughter before leaning over to offer her a hand.

"Let's get you situated on the bed, aye? I'll even fluff the pillow for your ankle if you're nice to me."

Why couldn't that fall have snapped her neck and killed her? She growled, trying to sit up. "Another smart remark and I'll have security kick you out."

Although the lights weren't on in the room, they were in the hallway, showing Scrooge plenty of Magica's bedroom, and all the dark, occult witchery she'd been trying to hide.

Embarrassed beyond measure, she turned her head away. "... Tell anyone what you saw and I'll make your life a living hell."

"I saw nothing and was banished to the guest room the entire time I was here," Scrooge said solemnly.

Being in a girl's room actually didn't hold the same mystery as it did for most boys given Scrooge had shared a bedroom with his sisters for most of his life and he still slept in their room rather than staying in the same room with Uncle Jake.

She was actually surprised he didn't have a single question about it, but decided not to press her luck as she finally got to her feet and flicked on the lights. If he wasn't going to ask, she wasn't going to answer.

The raven spotted the intruder, and cawed loudly, flapping its wings. Magica quickly held out her hand. "No, no, nothing to worry about! Stay on your perch. Stay. Stay, good baby."

The raven settled, but continued to stare at Scrooge.

Scrooge was utterly delighted by the bird, smiling enthusiastically.

"Well, I was going to say that nothing in a girl's room surprises me anymore after living with two sisters, but look at you," he said. "That's quite a wingspan you've got, you handsome thing. What's your name, eh?"

... Wait, what? The occult tomes, the pentagrams on the floor, the melted candles everywhere, and the collections of quartz on the wall didn't phase him - it was the bird that caught his attention?!

"Who, Ratface?" She asked stupidly, as if there was some other pet he could be referring to. "You... don't find him creepy or weird?" Like her family did?

Ratface, on the other hand, seemed to puff up a bit at all the attention.

"It's no weirder than a parrot. And he's certainly not creepy. He's gorgeous!"

As much as Scrooge was gushing over the raven (what an unfortunate name he had though!), he didn't try reaching for the bird. Ravens ate meat, and he'd rather not have his fingers shredded. Best not to try and touch the animal until Magica told him it was safe to do so since she knew the raven best.

"Where'd you get him? Not the local mall, I'd wager."

Magica pouted, moving to sit on the bed. "... Dad had him specially shipped to us five states two years ago. He said I could have anything I wanted for my birthday to make up for not being there for the last five." One of many attempts to bribe his own daughter's happiness, which probably said a lot about the both of them.

"So, I asked for a raven. He was probably expecting me to ask for a pony."

After a moment of hesitance, she clicked her tongue and made a downward motion with her fingers. "Ratface, groomings? Baby want groomings?" In response, Ratface shuffled and lowered his beak, submitting himself for petting.

Ow. Little wonder Magica wasn't particularly proud of her parents if they wouldn't show up to her birthday for years...

He forced himself out of the thought process lest things get awkward. He looked at the bird submitting himself to Magica's touch.

"Let me get something to prop up your ankle." He paused, turning around. "...Though I guess the first question is 'what am I not supposed to touch?'"

If she wanted to practice Wicca...or whatever this was...he'd rather not piss her off by messing up something she had spent time setting up.

Magica stroked Ratface's feathers, and he seemed to nuzzle at the touch, occasionally nipping at her fingers - not out of hunger, but more like love bites.

"... You can use the books on the top shelf." Those were the 'failed experiments'. She only kept them to use as flame material for her rituals.

"Not particularly comfortable," he warned but he still fetched the books. He had to get a step stool to properly reach, likely giving her a nice show as he reached.

Why else ask for those in particular? If he was going to bother her in endless stupid questions, then he had to pay the "tax".

Yum.

"I think I'll manage."

Look, at least he wasn't making fun of her for it.

He got the books and walked over towards her foot.

"I'm just gonna slip these under her ankle, Ratface," he told the raven. "Then she's all yours."

Ratface made a croaky little noise, tilting his head. Magica huffed - Ratface was only supposed to like her, just as only she liked him. Her baby!

"Don't expect him to take to you. He's not sociable by nature."

"Just bein' respectful," Scrooge defended himself as he lifted her foot and slid the books beneath it. "There's a cat three doors down who will turn your entire arm into hamburger if you get within arms' reach of his mistress. The trick to dealin' with him is to let him know what you're doing but he will watch you like a hawk the whole time in case you overstep your boundaries."

Ah, slightly better than before. He made for a good servant, which made for a good mental image - one of many she had that day.

"... What are you, an animal dork on top of a regular dork?" She almost called him a fairy-tale princess, but then reminded herself that technically her injured ankle was in his hands and that may not have been the wisest move.

"I like animals," he said simply. "They make more sense than people."

He set her foot down gently.

Magica leaned back on her bed with all its giant pillows. "No wonder you're so nuts. You don't think like a person, you think like a squirrel."

Gods, it was like she couldn't help herself from being haughty, even when there was no reason to it. It was like a ridiculous defense system.

Scrooge's feathers fluffed up in indignation though his cheeks were a bit pink. He had half a mind to jostle her bad ankle.

Nah. Too mean.

Instead, he jerked his thumb towards her bedroom door. "I'll just grab one of those books and pick a bedroom. You have some way of calling for help without getting up, right?"

... Cute.

She hugged one of her pillows and turned away from him as best she could, given her injury. "I have an intercom for the servants. They know to come running when I call."

"Great. I'll see you later then."

Scrooge left the room and sighed. Well, he was here until tomorrow. Might as well make the most of it.

He headed towards the study to start poking through the books.

Magica laid there a while, trying to think.

"... Ratface, door."

On command, Ratface flew from his perch and walked on the floor, nudging the door until it was only slight ajar.

"Good baby. Perch." Once he sat back up, she got to work.

As if she was really just going to lay the night away! She could sleep later.

It took some effort, but first, she changed out of her clothes and into pajamas. (With the sexiest underwear she could find. It was comfy, shut up.) Then she set up the ritual.

A freshly drawn pentagram, lit candles, and she took off her necklace, replacing one quartz with another. She placed her phone in the middle, flipping until she got his picture. She then moved the chain of the necklace so the quartz swung back and forth all around the points of the star.

"Gods and goddesses, nature and sky,
I offer my energy, hear my cry,
Bind his heart to only me,
Or else these desires, leave me be!"

There. Done and done. Time for bed.

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