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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! ]]
no subject
you teach me, if i don't pick it up, you got all the deliveries/baking you want
no subject
But very well. I agree. How long will you give yourself to learn? We must set a time to make it more fair. Even an idiot could pick up something of the sword in three months.
[after all, even Merlin learned. a little. eventually.]
no subject
[ gotta make the most of sword lessons with king arthur, after all ]
no subject
[and he's lucky as well. deliveries in the meantime means food. see, he can totally survive without Merlin!]
Very well. We are in agreement.
no subject
room #?
no subject
no subject
[ 20 is a little bit closer to 18 by the time there's a knock at 905's door, though. bat-habits, if you're not early you're late, you know how it is. so here stands a tiny, colorful girl, loaded down with mostly ready-to-eat food in a couple of bags. ]
no subject
but she does have bags of food. so. a beat.]
You?
no subject
Me.
no subject
Well, come in, I suppose.
[he doesn't take the bags from her, but turns away to go back into the apartment.]
Have you had any training at all?
no subject
Not with a sword. [ She ducks in after him, heading for where she knows the kitchen is in her own apartment. ] We don't use 'em anymore in my world.