exsilium | ♔ video ||

[Arthur Pendragon, prince of Camelot, is wearing a very wrinkled version of his usual shirt, and someone has done up the laces crookedly.

actually, he looks a general mess. he's clearly made the effort to appear slightly presentable--his hair has been recently smoothed down with some water, though not as flat as it usually might lay--but his shirt looks like it was trampled beneath a horse's hooves and the room that he's in is a little hazy with smoke from some old fire. or hopefully it wasn't an actual fire, because it was meant to be dinner.

but he's here to make an official announcement, and so he's composed himself as best as he can--all slightly rumpled clothing and bad hair and smudges on his face aside--and he stares grimly into the camera. this is a dare to anyone to comment, to make any smart remark.]

I must speak with the witch Morgana. She can deliver herself, but I do not expect her to come when she is called upon. If there is any of this city that knows her location, send word to me, and you will be rewarded.

[he's not learned how to send messages privately, so here it is, curt clipped, and that might be all there is to it, but then he glances away, his face tightening into a small glare.]

I would speak, too, with anyone that can be counted honest enough to make a delivery. Your reward will be a smaller sum, but your service will be counted valuable.

[without Merlin, what choice does he have? the smoke seems somewhat thicker in the room now, and it's a good thing you can't smell over the devices, because it would smell strongly of burnt food now. Arthur spares the air an irritated glance and now, finally, he reaches to flip off the video before this gets any worse.]

[[ any roommates, feel free to notice the smoke/horrible smells/et cetera! ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[he has things a bit more under control now, which--thank god for that. Elissa Cousland seems as if she could be a valuable ally.]

My manservant, Merlin, has gone missing. I have made careful search of the city, but he has not been found.

If you can give me a description of him, I could look for him.

[But there's another possibility, not one involving kidnapping.]

It's possible that the Initiative has sent him home.

[the description will be easy to provide (though not, perhaps, the kindest or most flattering ever given, no matter the importance of the situation). but her suggestion is what first gets his attention. it is something that he has considered, but--]

Really. You think that's a possibility? Because I thought they didn't know how to send us home. That's what I've always been told.

Perhaps not intentionally, no. But many others have disappeared before. My friends have almost all gone from here. One left and returned, and he told me he returned home when he did.

[There's no inflection. She can't afford to show weakness.]

It's possible he's gone home and is safe.

[his numb sadness (it is sadness, though he tries to hide it, and ignore it, and pretend as if it does not matter, because it doesn't matter) fades briefly as she describes the departures of her friends--and anger swoops in to take its place. god, this Initiative. this is their work all over again--it must be, for who else would jerk people away from their lives so carelessly, heedless of anything else? and then to return them later--]

Tell me. [his own voice is clipped, his anger just below the surface.] When your friends disappeared, did you accept possibilities as answers?

[She stiffens at the question.]

No, I did not.

[Nor has she. But when it's been weeks with little sign of those she called friends, when there is no evidence of their disappearances, and the Initiative has tried to take their belongings...]

I have yet to find a suitable explanation. You would do well to hide his belongings, though, or to take them into your room. The Initiative will come for them eventually.

[taking their belongings is little better than raiding bodies, and his mouth tightens, though it only shows in the stiffness of his tone.]

You're not serious. What need do they have for his belongings?

I don't know. I was cleaning up some of my friend's belongings and they just...came in and started taking them.

[She'd been shrewder when it came to Leliana's things, and Alistair's, and Duncan's. Luckily, Shale didn't keep much.]

But they'll come for them. Take everything you can, put them in a trunk, and keep them in your room.

You have my thanks for the advice, Elissa Cousland. You have proved yourself invaluable.

[he says it formally, but he means it. of all the people that he has been forced to meet here, Elissa is one who he could perhaps come to trust as an ally.]

If I may ask--have you lost many of your friends?

It is all I can offer, Prince Arthur, but I am glad it can serve you well.

[His question gives her pause and when she speaks, there's no inflection in her tone.]

Yes.

[Most will go home and she will see them again one day, or she will not. But Duncan was dead and now he has returned to his grave. It hurts her heart to think of it.]

[it was a heartless thing to ask, perhaps, but Arthur has never been good with tact. not always. and he doesn't pity her--he knows better than to offer pity; pity is a thing that he hates--but he feels something close to it, some dislike for what she must go through. losing Merlin has been bad enough.]

I am told that those taken from us sometimes return.

And sometimes they do.

[Zevran returned, at least. And he even remembered what had happened before. That's something.]

But many do not and we cannot know if they are returning home or elsewhere. Or if they are lost.

Or held captive. It seems likely to me that the United Earth might have cause to capture members of the Initiative's army. Anything to dwindle their numbers. I'm told that they have a means of--inducting people into their forces, using some drug that was found on members of their force. It might be used against us, too.

[and that is a better option than disappearing, or being killed. but it's also hopelessly optimistic, and his grim tone betrays his misgiving.]

Always possible. But the drug they keep makes people docile. It doesn't seem capable of turning people into soldiers. The ones they use to fight are...different.

[Inhuman. She doesn't know how to describe them.]

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