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♔ 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! ]]
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! ]]
video;
[you were far too ready with that information, Peter, and he is definitely rethinking you as a person.]
In what foreign land are people so desperate for food that they eat lizard guts? [his eyes narrow, just a little...] In yours?
video;
No, no - South America. Sometimes. I don't even think they do anymore, it's just an example, you know? We've got no idea what constitutes a regular meal here. Or for the other transports, I mean, some of these people aren't even from the same planet as us.
video;
Surely a regular meal would be just that: a regular meal. Food, and not insects or lizards. They sell normal food at the market, don't they? I've seen it there, I've even bought some--
[he gestures absently over his shoulder, sort of encompassing the smoke there.]
video; EAT IT
[ DID YOU SIGN UP FOR A LECTURE what's that no well too bad arthur ]
... although if you're going to nuke it anyway, it probably doesn't matter what it starts out as.
video; OKAY :>
[if he sounds borderline horrified, that's because he is. oh, there are probably people out there that eat horse, but they're little better than savages or else just very, very poor. a horse is a noble creature, worth far more than a mere meal. who would eat one?
but okay he's a prince, not a child, or Merlin; he can handle some barbarism towards horses--except then that leaves him with a conversation half full of words that he doesn't really understand. awesome.]
Have you ever tried talking in words people understand? You might get farther--what is nuke supposed to mean, is that some method of cooking?
video;
[ wow that's not helping shut up Peter STOP START OVER ]
What I mean is you burnt your food.
video;
It was the stove. It seems to have-- broken. Slightly.
[a beat; and then he rallies. he is a prince. he doesn't need to feel stupid about burning food, because what decent prince cooks for himself anyways--]
If the food was not burned so easily, it would never have happened. They should make it stronger. [and even as he's saying that, he realizes how ridiculous it sounds, so-- scowling and shutting up now, thanks.]