Pls god give me stolen for any Arthurian blorbos. I want to see those emotionally depraved people feel something SO BAD
So I was laughing to @bottlingsound about how this time last year when I was trying to figure out @ockissweek prompts, you came hollering about this for our Knight Lite blorbos, but I couldn't figure out how to make it work at the time.
And then this year I was going through unanswered smooch prompts in my ask box and decided to go with it, so here you go, here's Dakota with their ill-advised crush on a not-milf Siobhan!
HAPPY START OF OC KISS WEEK, Day 1: Impulsive (and also last year's Stolen)
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Siobhan reaches back behind her head and bundles up the tangle of dark curls with a paintbrush, her actions smooth and practiced. It also leaves a daub of blue from the still-wet bristles.
Dakota doesn’t point it out. Their favorite version of her is always this one — so deeply invested in what she’s looking at that she doesn’t notice. Last time it was a pen leaking on her cheek, and the time before that she managed to paint a fall landscape of golds and reds across her forehead with each frustrated swipe of her hand to get her hair out of the way.
She’s been painting more, which Dakota realizes she does when she is stressed and needs to think. And there has been a lot to stress out over recently.
It being Logan — being Agravaine — at the heart of it all is eating at her, almost as much as it is eating at Gael. (Temmy, of the three, is more fired up than angry.)
However, the ever-present furrow between her brow has eased as she pours over the artbooks that Dakota brought her. “These are absolutely gorgeous compositions,” she breathes, savoring each page before turning to the next one.
“You should come with me to the next production sale,” they say, using the opportunity to peruse her half-finished canvases scattered about the studio. “I keep saying I want to introduce you to some of the production managers. You could do wonders working as a set designer.”
She laughs and when Dakota looks, she’s idly tucking a loosed curl behind her ear. “Oh I don’t know about that. I prefer it when things don’t move through my compositions.” At this, she shoots a small, knowing smile at where they are currently doing just that.
Dakota holds up their hands innocently. “There’s also storyboarding! Concept art?” They round the cart of art supplies and place their hands on the table across from her, leaning in. “At least let me introduce you to some people.”
Siobhan carefully closes the art book and folds her hands on top of the cover. “I’m plenty busy between work and keeping all you unruly knights in line.”
The line stings more than it should, because it makes them feel like a child. The reminder of the divide between Morgause and Percival.
It also is a reminder of the work that she’s doing to try and locate Excalibur after it was stolen. How much of her self is she dedicating to the search? How much of Morgause is clawing her way back to the surface to make up for the shortcomings of Siobhan?
Without allowing themself to think about it (which is a lie they’ve thought about it a lot before this moment), Dakota reaches out and pulls her in for a kiss.
Siobhan inhales sharply, but doesn’t immediately pull back. She lets the kiss last without properly returning it.
Then she lifts a hand and presses it to Dakota’s cheek. But instead of letting the touch linger, she uses it to gently push them back.
This, too, stings.
Is it because they are Percival, and there is too much Morgause in her? And would that be better or worse than Siobhan’s rejection of Dakota?
“The others have someone to lean on,” Dakota says into the silence between them.
Siobhan, her hand still on their cheek, is content to study their expression — her eyes roving over their face as if searching for something.
Gael has Liam, and Temmy has Mateo.
But Mordred and Galahad make sense, and it has always been Gawain and Lancelot.
There is no Lamorak. There is only Percival.
“You don’t want to be that for me,” Siobhan finally says, though they do or else they wouldn’t have said it. They have never said anything from the heart that they didn’t mean. It sounds more like she’s convincing herself, weaving a spell that will fail because Dakota has already made up their mind.
“Add that to the list of things I have to convince you of, then,” they say, leaning forward just a hair — enough to feel the pressure of her fingers against their cheek, a deliberate move into the touch.
She gives a soft huff of laughter and draws her hand away. “Thank you for the books, Dakota,” she says, a clear indication of a dismissal.
They place a grin on their face, because they used to be an actor and that still comes easy. “I won’t give up on you yet, Siobhan.”
This time, her laugh is louder, filled with more body, and Dakota takes that as an encouraging sign.
ship of your choice & 💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft!
more like slow getting TO THIS KISS amirite?????
jk jk here we are day 5 of @ockissweek! Holds Atlas and Alonso in my hands, grey-ace old man yaoi anyone?
Tagging of course @bottlingsound as co-conspirator, and also @bipolyjack who had asked for some knight lite content and I realized i did forget to tag you in the Day 1 with Dakota and Siobhan whoops!
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Atlas sits with his elbows on the picnic table, leaning back against it, watching Alonso stare out at the rain. “You’re not going to perform any weather magic now, are you, Merlin?”
Alonso hesitates before glancing over his shoulder. “Of course not,” he says, as if the idea was ridiculous and Atlas shouldn’t even be considering it. “I was just thinking.”
“About doing magic on the weather?” Atlas grins as Alonso frowns. “It’s not like you to let the rain get you down.”
Alonso averts his gaze as his shoulders slump. Slowly, he abandons his vigil at the gazebo post and joins Atlas on the picnic table. It’s a carefully maintained distance, not close enough for Atlas to easily wrap an arm around his shoulder, but not far enough that he’s completely out of reach. They are still learning each other in these new lives. “I am always thinking. You should know this about me.”
From this new angle, Atlas is able to study the lines that frame Alonso’s mouth and eyes. They are carved in place from frowning, if his current expression is anything to go by. His Merlin is always frowning or scowling. “About anything in particular?”
It takes Alonso a long time to answer, and for a while Atlas thinks he simply won’t. Will keep these worries to himself instead of sharing them with his king — or at least with a friend, if Atlas can at least hope to consider himself one. “About our knights,” he finally says, his voice barely audible beneath the sound of rain and downtown traffic.
Atlas tenses despite himself. Of course the concern over their Round Table would be at the front of his mind. There are only two, not including himself, but Robert is not as young as he used to be. Of course, neither is Atlas, but he is a king who is willing to put his life on the line.
“I’ve spoken to Galahad recently. He has agreed to come to the States and take up his position at your side.”
It is different now that Alonso and Imogen are finally agreeing on something for once. For the past two years, they have warred over the responsibility of their legacy. Atlas knows that Alonso’s hesitations rise from his own failures, things he’s confessed to Atlas in strictest confidence. In a moment much like this one, where it is just the two of them and Atlas asks just the right question in just the right way.
And he knows that these fears are Alonso’s alone, the burdens of the man beneath the myth. When he thinks about the knights, he sees the empty seats around the metaphorical table, not just the ones that they have yet to fill. There are some that Atlas will never meet.
“He’s still young, isn’t he?” Atlas asks. “Galahad, I mean. You are not asking him to uproot himself and move across the world on my behalf, I hope.”
Alonso gives him a look that could mean give me some credit, but could also mean, I moved across the world for you, and Atlas wonders how long they will need to know each other like this before he will be able to tell the difference. “He made his own choice. I did not want my past to burden him, but I did caution him against impulsive decisions.”
“So you think that once he arrives…?”
“There are others nearby, I think. Nimue is also certain.” He folds his hands together, bracing his elbows on his knees, and continues to stare out at the rain. “I do not wish to see you push yourself to such extremes as you have been.”
Atlas bites his tongue before he can ask, is that Merlin’s concern or your own? He has always known the distinction when it was the five of them — when it was Atlas and Robert and Imogen and Siobhan and Bridgette. It was easier to see them separate from Arthur and Bors and Nimue and Morgause and Kay.
Alonso blends the lines; Merlin blends the lines. He has always been a man to see every iteration of every life that they have lived, and it makes it difficult to know what lines are established because they have always been, or which are there because of who they are now.
Atlas licks his lips and hopes that he is seeing the distinction correctly in this moment. “Alonso,” he says, and when the other man turns to look at him, the gaze is here, and now, and he is relieved.
As if realizing Atlas’ thoughts, Alonso sits upright and lets his shoulders relax. Then he once again leans back, all the way until Atlas’ hand is pressed between his shoulderblades. “Forgive me,” he says, chuckling. “Something about the rain always makes me melancholy.”
Carefully, giving him the chance to pull away, Atlas slides his hand up Alonso’s back, settling on his neck at the base of his skull. “It’s a good thing that it doesn’t rain that often in LA, isn’t it?”
This time, Alonso laughs, and Atlas watches the lines around his mouth and eyes transform. The smile is still there as Atlas draws him in for a kiss.
It is so easy to fall into this slow, drawn out rhythm with Alonso. It is as if they have known each other all their lives, because on some level they have.
Atlas and Alonso fell in love quietly and all at once, despite having only been side by side for two years. It was easy and inevitable and reassuring in a way that Atlas hasn’t felt in ages.
For Arthur and Merlin, their proper place was always together, but this is new.
“I think the rain is letting up,” Atlas says after a moment. They have scooted closer together on the bench, their hips and thighs together.
Alonso considers this, considers the offer being extended, as he fiddles with the zipper pull on Atlas’ jacket. “I find that I don’t mind the weather so much right now,” he says, about to lean in for another kiss. But then he hesitates, deliberately pulling back as Atlas tries to close the distance. “Unless your majesty is worried about his old joints in this cold. I understand that it is difficult on the elderly—”
Atlas huffs but he still presses in for the kiss, if only because he loves the feeling of Alonso’s rare smiles against his lips.
Despite him being our King Arthur, we don't really know a lot about Atlas! Gotta fix that!!!
Written for @genuaryjubilee as part of @ficwip's server events!
Week 4 - A Thing (and also a Person if 'one's relationship with one's past life counts LMAO)
Character: Atlas Koning
Project: Knight Lite
Words: 560
And finally, as always, to @bottlingsound!
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Excalibur is a heavy weight in his hand, and Atlas wonders how the fates conspired to give him the sword.
He had lived for years before it knowing that, in some past life, he was Arthur. Whatever that meant in this day and age — it never did him much good in the day to day. He had greater things to worry about than what some ancient, mythological British king would think about his actions.
But then Imogen had given him the sword.
Or the sword had always been there, tied to him, waiting for its opportunity to be wielded against the forces of darkness again, and the Lady of the Lake had merely given him the thread with which to unravel the distance between myth and reality.
And what use did he have for a sword?
It wasn’t going to help him weigh court cases, or solve systemic injustice. It made him feel worse, even more helpless than he did before.
All this power, and he couldn’t use it to help anyone.
It’s fucking Excalibur, and he couldn’t even tell Liliya about it. Not that he told her about the whole King Arthur thing, because, well, who would believe that. He wouldn’t have believed it until suddenly: he did.
And he met others who did. Who could do things like magic and summon swords to prove that it wasn’t just a bunch of adults thinking they were reincarnated knights.
Atlas never had an overactive imagination. He considers himself a deeply logical person. It took a very long time to be logical about being able to summon a sword into his hand with just a thought.
He once asked, “Aren’t I supposed to pull it from a stone to make it valid?” and Imogen had snorted so hard coffee came out of her nose.
“That’s not a question King Arthur would ask,” Siobhan said while the other woman recovered. “You already know the answer to that.”
After he thought about it for a moment, he did. It was an incredibly disconcerting feeling to have knowledge he knows he didn’t know previously.
Caliburn is from the stone, back in ye olde Arthurian days. It belonged to his brother Kay. To Arthur’s brother; Atlas doesn’t have a brother.
Excalibur is from the Lady of the Lake, who sat across from him at a little cafe, mopping up the last of her spilled latte with a napkin.
So he never told Liliya all through their marriage — though she had met Imogen, Siobhan, and Robert.
The sword remained a heavy weight on his heart, a useless instrument in his fight for good, a burden of a crown that would not do him any good.
Eventually he learns how to wield the sword. Eventually he gets more knights — young kids who look up to him for guidance in more than just what it means to be born again defenders of a kingdom that doesn’t exist.
And, always, he wondered just why Excalibur chose him.
“Excalibur does not choose,” Alonso told him once. “This has always been you. Think of it as your dedication to your people, your duty to your community, that made you remember that Excalibur has always been yours.”
Atlas grips the hilt, hefts the sword, and feels the weight of responsibility across his shoulders, and wonders if this is how Arthur ever felt.
My notes for this were "they're just bros being roommates!!!! (/genuinely platonic)"
Written for @genuaryjubilee as part of @ficwip's server evnts!
Week 3 - Roommates
Characters: Liam Barker & Mateo Canul (our Galahad and Lancelot)
Project: Knight Lite
Words: 914
as always, cheers to @bottlingsound 💞
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Liam fusses with his phone, responding to a text in the group chat as Mateo urges the last of his family out of the door. There’s a lot of “Yes, momma, thank you, momma, I’ll let him know, momma, love you too, momma,” before the door is finally shut and the apartment is cast into a brief moment of silence.
The two of them look at each other across the living room, and then Mateo breaks into a delighted grin and he says, “Well, that was a whirlwind.”
“We’ll have to do something to thank your family properly for helping us move everything so quickly,” Liam says, already trying to think about just what would be big enough to cover his gratitude. Everything is still basically in boxes, but all of Liam’s furniture was moved out of his apartment and into the new one in basically a few hours. And most of that was navigating the downtown traffic from one apartment to the other.
They even have a few pieces from Mateo’s family, including a coffee table from one of his uncles that had it in storage, a matching set of bookshelves from a cousin who didn’t have space for them any more, enough cutlery and kitchen equipment from all sorts of relatives to round out the sparse collection Liam had, and a standing lamp from one of Mateo’s older brothers that is covered in stickers from their childhood.
Vastly different from Liam’s original move last August — or really any of his previous moving experiences.
“Eh,” Mateo says, waving it off and dropping onto the couch with a weary sigh. “Mom’s already trying to make plans for dinner in a week or two to make sure we are settling in okay. You’re basically another Canul now, congratulations.”
Liam grabs a Gatorade from the ice chest on the floor (they were told to hang onto it until someone could grab it later, don’t worry about it) and tosses it to Mateo. “Abigail will cross the Atlantic to haunt me if I don’t do something.”
“We’ll just have our moms square off against one another and see who the winner is.” Mateo chugs half the drink in one go before coming up for air with a winded, whew!. “Any word from the others?”
“The Blums have sent various combos of thumbs up, fire, and the one hundred emoji, and I still don’t know if we should be worried about that or not.”
“And Temmy?” Mateo asks, trying (and failing), to sound casual about it.
“I think she’s cooking up something with Dakota. Literally.” Liam lowers himself into the armchair, his legs protesting as he does so. Sword fighting and moving apartments use two very different sets of muscles, and the slow and steady ache of exhaustion is starting to creep into his limbs.
Mateo grins at him over the rim of the Gatorade bottle. “Uh-oh.”
Liam lifts an eyebrow, drumming his fingers idly over his water bottle. “What uh-oh?”
“That’s the look of a man who isn’t going to budge. You’re going dad mode.”
He snorts in indignation. “I am not going dad mode.”
“Sure. You’re just going to rest your eyes for a bit.”
“No, I’m not.” He hadn’t planned on it, at least.
“Alright, McGorbund,” Mateo says, setting down his now empty bottle and slapping his hands to his thighs as he pushes himself upright with all the second-wind energy of an athlete. “We’re getting up.”
Liam makes a half-hearted sound of protest but extends a hand anyway for help. “I suppose if I stop moving now, I’m in trouble.”
“Exactly. And I know you: You wouldn’t want our friends to eat whatever delicious food Temmy and Dakota are making off of paper plates, would you?”
There’s an argument to be made about how paper plates are useful for them considering they just moved and he’s not too sure where all the plates are since they came from at least three different sources, but Liam knows it's just an excuse to motivate him. “Alright. Make a functioning kitchen in two hours. Got it.” He scoops his phone off the kitchen counter where it’s plugged in and glances at it. “Gael wants to know if there’s anything we want them to bring.”
The sentence isn’t even out of his mouth as he notices the ‘Lancelot is typing…’ at the bottom of the chat. Liam frowns, switching his glare from the phone screen to Mateo — who has a cheeky little smirk in place as he hits enter.
Liam reads the new message then throws his mostly empty bottle at Mateo. It doesn’t even make it halfway across the space between them. “I hate you.”
“Hey now, is that any way to treat your old man?”
“You’re my roommate, not my dad.”
“Galahad, you wound me,” Mateo says dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest and kicking the water bottle back towards the kitchen like a soccer ball. “Alright, where’d we put those bluetooth speakers? It’s time to put on a dance party playlist and tackle this beast!”
Liam picks up the bottle and contemplates the amount of water still in it. “I think they’re in your backpack.”
As Mateo heads back to his room to search for his backpack, Liam surveys the amount of boxes in the kitchen and begins to start a mental inventory and break-down of where everything should go. “Two hours,” he says to himself, rolling up his metaphorical sleeves. “Piece of cake.”
Written for @genuaryjubilee as a part of @ficwip's server events!
Week 2 - Coworkers
Characters: Siobhan Caldwell & Gael Ingram (our Morgause and Mordred)
Project: Knight Lite
Words: 671
And as always, a shout-out to @bottlingsound 😎
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Siobhan sits out on the patio, needing the moment of silence from all of the other diners in the restaurant. Her mind is a thousand miles away as she gazes out over the valley, the rapidly cooling paper cup of cheap tea clutched in her hands. It’s still unreasonably warm for this late in September, but that’s the sort of weather she’s come to expect. Her cardigan is in the office still, didn’t need it as she walked across the campus to the restaurant.
But the bubble of silence she’s grown used to over her time here has been ruptured, and she’s trying to figure out if she should blame Atlas or Alonso for it all when—
“Siobhan?” Gael says her name like they’ve had to repeat it at least twice, and she snaps back to attention as her eyes focus in on their work ID.
An image of Gael, younger, more miserable, glares back at her before she lifts her eyes to meet his properly. “Oh,” she says, and tries not to sound like she was just so completely lost in her own mind that she didn’t notice their approach. “I thought you were still at the Villa until the end of the month.”
Gael frowns, as if she’s avoiding the topic at hand — and, well, maybe she is. “I’m perfectly capable of doing research here as I am at the Villa.”
“Of course,” she concedes.
There is an awkward silence before Gael gestures to the free seat at her table and asks, “May I?”
“Oh,” she says again, and then, because she’s nothing if not eloquent, “Of course.”
A small twitch of a smile pulls at the corner of Gael’s lips as he sits down. “You’re not avoiding me, I hope.”
Siobhan’s brow twitches as she gives him a considering look. “I would have thought, if anything, you would have avoided me. And I was content to give you that space if you needed it.”
Gael fusses with their work lanyard, and then his wristwatch. It’s a new one, fancy. Christ, did he have another fight with Logan, and this was a makeup gift? She presses her lips into a thin line and tries to tell herself that she felt this way when they were still only just coworkers, not existing under the knowledge that they are Morgause and Mordred.
Now, though, every little critique she has she doesn’t want to be misconstrued as her being a mother hen.
Finally, Gael places his hands down on the table, palms flat against the cool metal. The day may be warm, but the shade is nice, and the tables are always freezing despite the weather. “Did you know?
She hesitates, then asks, “About you?”
They nod.
“Not specifics,” Siobhan admits. “I had my suspicions of course, but—”
“That I am Mordred was a surprise.”
She doesn’t want to say that, deep down she had known. Of course she had known, Morgause could see through the illusion of Gael Ingram down to the heart of her son.
But that would raise more questions than it would provide comfort, so instead she nods. Morgause is trying something new, this time around, and it’s a gentle honesty instead of her usual cutting variety.
They do still have to work together, after all. Even if their paths rarely cross she would hate to have to cancel their tea dates when they are both at the Getty, sitting on the patio overlooking the LA valley and marveling at the expanse of time and space that brought them to this moment.
“I am glad that it’s you,” she says softly.
That Gael, a sweet and honest person she has grown fond of as a coworker, would be one of the knights. That Mordred, her son before any other title that would try and claim him, would be one to come back.
Gael nods once, seemingly uncertain. But then his expression settles and he nods again. “Thank you for telling me,” they say, and she smiles in relief.
Wildcard third, your pick!! I’ll give a prompt for it: home improvement!!
ok u get all three in one because i'm too lazy to make multiple posts!
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Liam opens the door to find Gael standing on the other side, looking very confused, holding a plastic grocery bag.
"There's just a single bulb of garlic," they say, looking from it to him in mild distress. "Why is there just a single bulb of garlic on your doorstep?"
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Glen sits with his hands clenched nervously before him as Jun takes the first bite of the dish. Agreeing to teach her guitar in exchange for her teaching him how to cook sounded like a great idea until she was eating something he made.
But she chews, swallows, and smiles without a single grimace or sign that it was forced and says, "Very solid foundations, you just need a little more practice!" and he heaves a sigh of relief.
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"I told you, you get what you pay for and this is just a cheaper tool," Catoir says, having to speak louder to be heard over the on and off beeping of the stud finder.
Ayn frowns as she moves it across the wall; then her frown deepens as she swings around and presses the device to Catoir's forehead. "As I suspected," she says morosely in the ensuing silence, "not a single stud to be found."
WOWEE I fully had several other ideas of what i could do for this prompt/this event in general, but then Knight Lite kids took over my brain and I've been thinking about them nonstop since the 1st so HERE WE GO!
This is written for @genuaryjubilee as a part of @ficwip's server events!
Week 1 - Siblings
Characters: Bridgette & Bianca Blum (aka our Kay and Guinevere)
Project: Knight Lite!
Words: 577
And as always shout-outs to @bottlingsound, my fellow knight in crime ;)
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Bianca swings the dagger around with such obvious glee that the smile is almost contagious.
Almost, if you’re anyone but Bridgette watching her baby sister with a way too sharp blade. Gifted to her by Morgause like some kind of joke between girls. Of sisters left behind by their siblings.
She should be used to this by now, she thinks. It was inevitable.
But Kay got her sword from Arthur. It was a whole thing that felt important, because at the time it was just the two of them and it was the sword in the fucking stone.
Guinevere was never supposed to need a blade. The knights were always her blade.
“Bridgette, you can’t possibly be thinking about making me give it back,” Bianca says, drawing her out of her thoughts with a frown.
To be honest, Bridgette had been thinking that, sort of. Only sort of.
Bianca drops her hands to her sides and Bridgette can’t help the wince at the absolutely awful form her sister has when handling a blade. “Oh come on, everyone else has a sword. This is just a glorified knife.”
“Don’t let Siobhan hear you say that,” Bridgette snaps despite herself. “That’s not just a knife. That’s Carnwennan, Arthur’s dagger.” She doesn’t add so treat it with some respect, because that’s a Merlin thing to say. And honestly the last thing she wants to do is agree with Merlin right now. “He used it to kill witches.”
The joy on Bianca’s face twists into something ugly and frustrated. “And we’re up against some witches.”
That wasn’t exactly what Bridgette had meant by that, but Guinevere understood the message from Kay all the same.
“We’re up against an asshole human,” she corrects, “who has the backing of some witches. But we got Nimue and Morgause on our side.”
Bianca grunts, unconvinced.
So Bridgette has to remind herself not to be Bianca’s older sister right now. She can’t be their parents, and Lord knows that Imogen isn’t stepping up to be a proper caretaker right then because she had gone and performed the transfer that gave the dagger to Bianca in the first place.
This was all brought on by something beyond their control. The Blums aren’t in the picture right now. It’s Kay teaching her queen how to defend herself the next time she finds herself in a pinch.
“Alright, missy, I guess it’s up to me to teach you the basics,” Bridgette says and forces the levity she doesn’t quite feel into her voice.
Bianca’s look is skeptical, so Bridgette does a theatrical roll of her wrist in demonstration. “Dagger form basics.”
And there’s the unbridled joy back on her sister’s face. “Really?”
“Really really. You’re more likely to hurt yourself with that than not, and if you master the dagger—”
“You’ll let me practice with Caliburn?” she asks excitedly and Bridgette can’t suppress the wince.
“Maybe you can ask Temmy for Galatine again,” she cautions. A sword that makes you invulnerable under sunlight would be a decent enough training sword in SoCal. Not that she thinks Caliburn is dangerous — Liam is really the only one with a truly dangerous sword — but she can’t stop being a big sister long enough to run the risk of seeing Bianca cut herself on a sword.
Bianca pouts, but it’s the familiar teasing one she’s used to seeing. “Alright, fine. Step one: Daggers. Step two—”
Cast Introduction/WIP Q&A - Knights of the Round Table
I've been tagged in several memes from @mysticstarlightduck and so here's a cast introduction (well, half the cast) for KNIGHT LITE (as we affectionately call it). This is a project that @bottlingsound and I have been leaving in the back pocket since like, 2010. Just recently we suddenly started working on it in earnest and we have having a BLAST.
The memes I'm responding to from Anya are an OC Picrew and the OC Fun Facts! The Picrew can be found here.
This post will also count as an open WIP Q&A Invitation for you to ask us about this project and the characters (even Arthuriana that we don't have listed here, because YES we do have an Arthur and Merlin we just have to find a picrew that does old people). Please ask us about our blorbos and this project!!
Project Summary: (as written by Cara!)
The original roundtable defeats the Nine Witches of Caer Lloyw, nightmare beings of warfare and magic who terrorized and ravaged Britain, unknowing that they had since been cursed. They are doomed to tear themselves and their world apart. This ended the first time with the roundtable turning on itself. They are reborn again and again, and they have spent lifetimes mostly apart, but they are always doomed by their circumstances. Now in 2024, the knights are drawn together again in Los Angeles. The more of them that are together, the more terrible monsters begin appearing. The knights must first discover who is behind the disasters and then break the cycle!
Meet our Knights of the Round Table beneath the cut!
Dakota Avery
Percival
31 | They/Them | Film Tech
Born in Oxnard but moved down to LA with their mom when their parents split at the end of their Sophomore year in HS. Moved in with their grandparents, aunt, and two cousins.
Met Bridgette in the drama club in their new HS. Wouldn’t exactly say they became instant best friends, but she was the easiest person for them to get along with.
Loves to surf. Learned when they were very young, and has kept up with it through everything. Over the summer, if they don’t have early set call times, they’ll always make an effort to go out in the mornings for a few hours.
A huge fan of the Lord of the Ring movies because they are “a masterpiece in filmmaking”. Will watch the extended edition special features constantly, and has movie marathons with Bianca.
Has been told frequently they have a “face that cameras love”, but they got over the desire to be on stage after high school and focused a lot on theater tech through college. They love the production side of things, and making sure others can shine. And also ensure that sets have decent lighting.
Always has the right ‘fit for the occasion no matter the weather or the vibe. They have gone to several production sales but also just know lots of people in costuming and are always owed a favor by one person or another.
Will always be stocked up on excellent homemade food after they visit their family, but when left to their own devices, it’s dumplings, dino chicken nuggets, and rice. And kimchi. They also have the local thai and bibimbap places on speed dial.
Hard kombucha person through and through, though if that’s not available then it’s beer or extremely fruity cocktail.
Favorite color is chartreuse (they’re mid on the liqueur tho)
Song: "Hungover in the City of Dust" by Autoheart
Bridgette Blum
Kay
28 | She/Her | Disneyland Character Actor / Summer Camp Counselor
Born in Salem, OR and spent her childhood there. When her parents passed away in an accident, she and her sister were taken in by their aunt Imogen. She’s lived in Los Angeles since was 14 and definitely prefers it for her chosen career path.
Originally met Dakota in High School when they were in drama club together. She was definitely not okay after losing her parents, and acting has always been a healthy outlet for her. She enjoys the spotlight.
Also enjoys LARPing. She currently works at Disneyland as a character actor, usually playing either Tinkerbell or Chip, but she takes time to work at a LARP camp in the summer. She loves working and being silly with kids.
Barely got through college, because it just wasn’t for her. She has an Associates degree in Theatre Arts.
Would regularly get into fights in Elementary School, but she got better at not immediately jumping people who bothered her. However, talk shit and get hit. She will absolutely still fight you if you stir the pot.
Taught Bianca how to throw a punch and gave Bianca one of her old IDs. She figures that if Bianca is going to get into any trouble, she might as well be well prepared
Has a stuffed chicken in her car named Sir Robin.
One word: tequila. No further notes.
Favorite color is orange.
Song: "Haunted House" by Sir Babygirl
Logan Carver
Agravain
27 | He/Him | Tech Startup CEO
Originally from the Silicon Valley area where his parents work in the tech industry.
Went to UCLA and majored in Business Economics. He has been into cryptocurrencies since the beginning and continues to brag about his success on the crypto market. He went on to create his own business, a new tech startup. He’s the CEO and the “ideas” guy.
Had studied Mandarin briefly in college and will tell people he can speak it, but he absolutely can’t beyond simple phrases. He also cannot read it.
Likes his steaks well-done and does not like sushi.
Drives a Tesla because it is much better for the environment, but he refuses to use public transport.
Has been dating Gael on and off for 6-7 years. Has occasionally dated other men, but they have been much less willing to stick around for long.
Plays tennis and golf every now and then, but prefers snowboarding over other sports. His parents have a second house in Tahoe where he enjoys going on vacation.
Claims to have several celebrity friends who he’s invited to parties on his yacht.
Will drink anything that gets him shitfaced, but prefers to bring out the top-shelf liquor when he’s trying to impress someone.
Favorite color is black, he thinks he’s really cool for that.
Song: "The Prayer" by Bloc Party
Gael Ingram
Mordred
25 | He/They | Museum Curator
Born in Colorado and spent a lot of his childhood going to different national parks, and fell in love with archeology that way. He wanted to dig up dino bones when he got older!
Went to UCLA intending to get into paleontology, but took a class on archeology in ancient civilizations and decided to switch his area of focus. Now he wants to dig up old roman streets! Got his Bachelors in history and a masters in archeology and museum studies.
Loves hiking, camping, and skiing, which he did a lot of at home in Colorado when growing up. Doesn’t have many opportunities in SoCal, though he would always take the opportunity to go to Tahoe with Logan for the sake of being in snow (even if it’s more often snowboarding than skiing).
Currently working at the Getty (more at the Villa) for a year or two before he’s thinking about going back to get a Doctorate. Would love to go work on a dig site, but for now is content with the museum side of things.
Has been dating Logan off and on for close to 7 years. Has never had any real serious relationships outside of that, often claiming that he’s too busy with school to really give it a go. Resorts mostly to the occasional hookup or a dinner date here and there via apps.
Loves vodka-based drinks/cocktails. When he’s feeling fancy he’ll go for a vodka martini; when he’s feeling the opposite of fancy he’ll knock back some shots.
Favorite color is dark green
Song: "Second Child, Restless Child" by The Oh Hellos
Joseph Liam Barker
Galahad
22 | He/Him | Paralegal / Studying for LSAT
Alternated between Scotland and France while growing up, though all of his schooling took place in Scotland to make it easier.
Was made a Prefect his last two years in school; could have made Head Boy but rejected the nomination. Did act as a Deputy Head Boy, though, to help with assemblies and fundraisers, student committees and community projects, etc.
Speaks fairly fluent French though he is out of practice. People in Scotland think he talks with a French accent, people in France think he has a Scottish accent, people in America just think he’s British. He doesn’t bother to correct them.
Got a degree in medieval history at University of Edinburgh, much to his mother’s delight, then decided he wanted to go into law, much to his father’s delight.
He is either the best or worst person to watch any period dramas with. He’s not going to pick on the costuming (too much, he didn’t study historical fashion) but he will absolutely comment on other historical notes.
Was named Joseph because of Joseph of Arimathea. You can imagine how confused he was when he found out he was Galahad; he wondered for a long time if his mom knew, but she was just being a medievalist and thought it was a good name. Decided to start going by Liam when he was 15 because there were two other Josephs in his school year.
Loves kids a lot and enjoyed his duties as a Prefect in school that let him interact with all the younger students or kids in the community. He doesn’t know if he would want to be a father, but he’ll at least accept cool uncle duty (which is made harder by not having any siblings of his own).
While he does enjoy a good Scotch, he prefers wine. His mother is horrified by this concept and blames his father/the French. He has signed up to a wine of the month club once moving to LA, though he has yet to go on any winery tours. He has never had a cocktail in his life.
Is a third generation Mexican American, born and raised as a laidback SoCal jock in the Inland Empire. He enjoys football, soccer, and skateboarding. He had a few hackysacks at one point, but his older brother ended up with most of them.
Middle child of the family with three older siblings and three younger. Half of his wardrobe is hand me downs by choice, having either asked or sneakily taken clothing items from his older siblings. He enjoys to thrift for clothes, but he also loves getting himself a new hoodie or hat every now and then.
Originally decided on UCLA because he wanted to play football for the Bruins. Despite some occasionally bad choices, he’s not a bad student and does maintain a high enough GPA for his scholarship requirements. He hasn’t settled on a future career, but wants to use his degree to support his community somehow.
Is absolutely a member of a fraternity and is a typical frat boy in many ways. He’s charming, outgoing, and someone who will and can make friends with absolutely anyone. Though he doesn’t actually date often, he’s also a notorious flirt.
Raised Catholic, but he stopped going to church as soon as his parents stopped making him.
LOVES telling really lame jokes both as a result of his part time job and a genuine desire to make other people smile. His infectious charm helps him get away with it.
Enjoys swimming and will never turn down a trip to the beach or a lake!
Not picky about drinks, but he really prefers IPAs over other beers. He usually has zero opinion on wine, but does enjoy sangria.
Favorite color is blue.
Song: "C'mon C'mon" by The Von Bondies
Temple Rhee
Gawain
20 | She/Her | Photography Major / Disneyland Photographer
Named after Shirley Temple, her grandmother’s favorite movie star. Her family will always call her Temple, but she prefers Temmy.
Is a second generation Korean American, and undeniably Texan having been born and raised in Sugar Land, Texas. She speaks with a Texan accent, she loves cowboys and barbecue, and she will argue that the Houston Texans are the best football team even when they are losing. She owns several pairs of cowboy boots in different colors.
Was and is decidedly an outgoing horse girl. She never owned a horse, but did take riding lessons when she was young and still tries to go riding whenever she can.
Bounced between Taekwondo and Hapkido lessons from ages 6 to 17, and really loved it. She finally quit to spend more time goofing off with friends during her senior year of high school and just never got back into it.
Did not want to go to college, but was coerced to do so by her parents and friends. She spent two years completing most of her general education courses at a community college before aimlessly settling on photography and transferring to UCLA to complete her degree. She’s not sure what she wants to do with her degree, but she’s happy with her major and her decision to transfer.
Likes taking photos and making really ugly scrapbooks. She has several cameras and has been gravitating toward polaroids more and more for scrapbooking purposes.
Before she knew she was Gawain, she thought she might have been a horse. She had no memories of being Gawain, but remembered things about the other knights, especially Lancelot.
Enjoys really terrible and cheap beer. Booze is booze, she will drink the things you do not want to drink.
Favorite color is green.
Song: "Even In the Dark" by Company of Thieves
Bianca Blum
Guinevere
19 | She/They | Mechanical Engineering Major
Originally born in Salem, OR, but doesn’t really remember it well. Their parents passed away after a bad accident, and she and her sister moved in with their Aunt Imogen when she was very young. She has lived most of her life in Los Angeles. She does think she’d like to move back to Oregon one day out of some sort of romanticized whimsy.
Created her first robot at 9 using a LEGO Mindstorms kit and used it to wake up Bridgette as a prank by having it repeatedly poke her. At 13 she started learning programming to restructure her Mindstorm into more of a nuisance.
Had difficulty choosing a college, but settled on UCLA when her aunt insisted she at least try to stay close to home. She had scholarships at better colleges, and has given more thought to completing her Masters degree at a different school after finishing her Bachelors in Mechanical Engineering. She is on the Dean’s Honor list.
LOVES the lord of the rings and it was the highlight of her LIFE to go see them in theaters with Dakota and Bridgette this year (since she couldn’t when they first came out). Will have marathons with Dakota constantly.
Enjoys science fiction shows and films, especially Star Trek and Doctor Who. Dakota has also supplied them with many sci-fi cult classics to watch. Their favorite Star Trek captain is Janeway.
Is mostly a very responsible young lady, but she also enjoys her fair share of youthful adventures. She’s kept Bridgette’s old IDs so that she doesn’t get left out when her other nerdy college friends decide to go get an occasional drink or two.
Is a cider girl at heart, but she’s always happy with a good cocktail.
Favorite color is coral pink.
Song: "I am not a woman, I'm a god" by Halsey
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