COMHNALL STUART. @comhnalls - Tumblr Blog

open to all (capping at 3) / @1642hqs-starters

The unfamiliarity had been a hindrance in more ways than Comhnall had a penchant for. He wasn’t easily trusting — optimism did come easily to him (surprising to some perhaps) but he was a realist. The halls were different here, even the stone of said halls were different. The way they curved and expanded in certain areas was different. The air here was different, the wind much sharper in Scotland than France and the sun shone more than he had ever come to know back home; though that part he very much liked. He wasn’t completely himself in places (and situations) he’d never known and the loss of control in the aforementioned made him tense in the worse of times and forgetful in the best.

He rushed down the hall towards where he thought the feast that night was being held, only to nearly collide with an on-comer; “apologies,” a beat, “could you please point me in the direction of the feast? I’ve walked practically every hall there is, how do people ever find their way around here?”

#i: open #capping at 3 #1642hqstart

eminencies:

@1642hqs-starters // william and open Location: training grounds, courtyard or garden. some large open space outside

“If you’re going to stare, you can at least tell me why.” Sheathing his sword, William turned to acknowledge the observer he’d gained at some point during his fairly tame drills. He didn’t have an opponent, so it couldn’t have been that interesting, and surely it couldn’t have been the first time they watched someone fight with a sword, could it? “I’m under no instructions that say I cannot be here, and I’m hardly putting anyone at harm.” Not unless they tried to harm him. With one murder already come to pass, no harm in making sure people knew William could defend himself. They’d have to kill him through some other method, like poison.

// As much as Comhnall missed home -- the emerald green of the hills and the play of shadows and light of the highlands -- what he’d been most grateful for had been all the days, since arriving in France, that he’d been able to enjoy sunshine, a phenomenon nearly always missing in Scotland. He’d been sat on a stone bench, awaiting news from staff, his attention flitting between the young man a few metres away and a fountain just off to the right — though that had shifted when the young man called his attention — Comhnall, with arms crossed against his chest, answered him; “not everything’s about you lad,” he smirked, not meaning any disrespect, just simply stating fact. The rays of the sun glared into the icy hue of his eyes; “was just waiting for someone and decided on some much needed sunshine.”

#i: william #william.01

arthurjasen:

@1642hqs-starters ━━ arthur + open !

the monarch could not sleep . it was the thunder from above that was keeping the monarch up . he had been twisting and turning for what seemed like hours when they finally gave up and stood from their bed . if he couldn’t sleep he would go to the tallest part of the palace to listen to it more closely . it was an odd thing , how he couldn’t sleep with thunder but it somehow made him think more clearly . he was taking his first step when he heard a nose . he turned , their candle going out for a moment from the sudden gust of wind . “ hello ? ”

//

He couldn’t sleep. The entire night had been a war between incessant thoughts and exhaustion — and clearly, as Comhnall roamed the halls of a place very unlike his home (much to his chagrin, one might add) — the former had won; his unease present in the way he mindlessly ambled within the stone walls that surrounded him. It wasn’t until he had finally turned a corner, curious about the shuffling he heard just moments ago that his curiosity had been settled and he found that he wasn’t alone — “excuse me,” he cleared his throat, “I’m assuming sleep has escaped you as well?”