agogelogs | [open] i'm taking back my life tonight

WHO? Mordred/

bloodings & unlucky people (you)
WHAT? Dreamin'
WHEN? During the event, 'til the 23rd
ANYTHING ELSE? contains f/apoc spoilers, violence. prose or backets is cool, i'll match you!

[ Servants don't dream, but things are different here. It brings her back to when she was alive, never human, but not a spirit; when she could still dream.

Loathsome dreams, dreams that made her wake roaring in anger long after her decision to kill the king was made. Bitter dreams, of toppling her father and taking his crown for herself. Worst of all — dreams of what she wanted from the start. Dreams of her father's hand in her hair and words of praise as his son. (But she's not. She's a filthy, unwanted child, born from his enemy, and he will never recognize her because of it.)

Dreams... ]

a.

[ ... of her training. Of bitterness, seeing children her own age and knowing she would be dead before they even reached adulthood. If she is to die sooner, then she will blaze brighter, and become greater than they will ever be. She will defeat the king and claim the throne. (At least, her mother says she will. In truth, she wants nothing more than to serve him.)

She's still a child, though. So anyone in the dream will be very suddenly pushed over (even an adult; she's freakishly strong) and greeted by a very young face staring back at them, smirking. ]

Heh.

b.

[ ... of Camelot. Of a woman, a man, with the same face as hers, sitting at the round table. The same man the knights call King Arthur. Mordred's own face hidden behind a helmet. It's the day she confronted the king, the day her love turned to hate, the day she was reborn.

Maybe you're there to see her plead with him. It's not a long discussion. Mordred, her face exposed, desperate for acknowledgement as a son, if not as heir; for him to take pride in her. "Even if it cannot be publicly known, you can accept me. As a father, if not as king!". And the king's simple response — "Born from the machinations of my sister you may be, but indeed you are of my blood. Yet I shall not recognize you as my son, nor shall I allow you the throne." — before he turns his back on her.

Either way, when she returns to her chambers her emotions are almost radiating off her. The door opens, and she glances up, still wearing her helmet... but her glare can be felt. ]

What the hell do you want? [ She knows it's a dream, this time. The worst moment of her life, and it's exposed for all to see. ]

c.

[ ... of Camlann. Of waking on the hill after her father's spear pierced her chest, alone, with tens of thousands of dead bodies around her. It's a nightmare, not a memory; she's a literal walking corpse with a lance straight through her body and blood oozing from it with every step.

On a hill of death, it's easy to spot the only other living, moving thing. She blinks in surprise at the figure in front of her. ]

How? [ How are you here, how is she alive... how did it all end this way. One hand rests on the spear in her chest, seemingly unable to pull it out. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He's only half a big ass horse!]

If you keep making demands rather than requests? Likely.

[She gets one chance!!!]

Ahhhh, what's the difference? You know what I want, right?

[ But one is nice, and one is Being An Asshole. Guess which Mordred is better at. ]

Come on, just the one time!

[WHO RAISED YOU?]

One involves please and thank you and being polite. Truly did no one instruct you in manners in your youth?

[ AN EVIL WITCH... ]

Hah? Of course not! Power's the only thing that matters! [ Which... is close to the truth, actually. Yes, she had some chivalry in her years as a knight, but never manners. ] I'm stronger, so do what I say!

[THAT'S NO EXCUSE.]

For someone who's counting on power, you are missing details that factor into any sort of power into the equation.

[What's that Mordred? You want him to rear back and cause you to fall off? Sure thing!]

Wha— hey!

[ As an adult, she could probably cling hard enough to stay on... but with no saddle, no reigns, and no warning, she eats dirt. Or her back does, anyway. The fall knocks the wind out of her, and she stares up at the sky with a groan. ]

Dammit... what's the big idea, huh? I thought you were a teacher! [ And you just got schooled, Mordred. ]

[Chiron walks over so that he's hovering over Mordred. He crosses his arms, and keeps staring downward.]

I am, and some lessons are harsh. If you're not going to ask nicely, then you're not getting what you want.

Well, those lessons suck.

[ The physical part isn't so bad; she's copped plenty of beatings in her training, but the idea that her strength isn't everything still stings. Even if dealing with a centaur is a... unique situation. ]

I didn't wanna ride any longer anyway. [ Are you five... oh wait. ]

[That...did not go as intended. Chiron sighs, extending a hand to help Mordred up at the very least.]

You don't need to lie about that part. What I was trying to indicate to you is that to just demand something of me is rude and insulting. The equivalent of what I just did to you.

[ And... of course she ignores his hand to get to her feet herself. She's a little scuffed up, but nothing major; she's mostly just grumpy. ]

I get it, I get it. [ Sort of. ] But what's the point of learning that crap? I'll never use it. Once I'm king, everyone will have to listen to me.

[Mildly, Chiron raises an eyebrow at that.]

Do you believe that that's how kingship works, Saber? You say something and it is so?

Of course. No one argues with the king.

[ She... has a skewed view of kingship, naturally. Her father was perfect, his rule flawless. Who could ever argue with such a thing? ]

He has advisors and crap. But it's the king's word everyone listens to. He can order a thousand men to their deaths, and they'll go without question. [ She would have, too, before everything happened. ]

[There's a tiny slip of a frown on Chiron's face at Mordred's words. He taught children to be heroes, not kings, but that does not mean he isn't without a broad scope of knowledge on the topic.]

Well, a king can do that, but being so absolute and immovable is hardly in a king's best interest. That's how assassination plots are born. A king does have to do right by his people, and if he isn't listening, if he doesn't accept critique or listen...

[Well then you get France.]

Of course. It's natural to dethrone a tyrant.

But if the king is already perfect, if he sees exactly what is needed... then nothing else matters. Everything else can just be cast aside.

[ Even if it's people. Even if it's her. The bitterness of the real Mordred seeps into even what passes for a childhood dream, giving her memories she shouldn't have yet.

After a moment, she shrugs. ]

This is a pointless conversation. Let me back up.

[It's an intersting insight into Mordred, what she says. The idea of a perfect king is, of course, impossible. But Mordred's bitterness is what makes it all the more fascinating. It hints at identity, but...well, there's no time to prod.

Chiron sighs.]

Did we not just get over the value of requests and asking permission?

Did we? I forgot.

[ No she didn't. She's just being a shit again — she's quick to recover from even the most serious of conversations. ]

No, I don't think you did.

[why must you act out like this child]

[open] i'm taking back my life tonight

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

im so sorry for this

no you're not

i am a little

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject