All those forced ship names and then… Jimmy. The role play that ended 2 years ago before it even started. Don’t pretend you forgot the ship name, Davina. We told you earlier it was Rummy, remember? When we pointed out Rummy and Charby were the same. It turns out Runeto, Rira and Rumandriel, by your own admission, are the same too.
You got her ship names wrong. Let me help you out: Crummy, Charredbaby, Ruinittoo, Wriwang and Runmanandyell. That Derek she is force-Christianing with Ruby has a ship name of Rude.
(You’re welcome to steal these for once, Davina. Try not to wet your ronald pants in excitement.)
I’m on board with all of these. I take exception to you calling that thing she meme plays “Ruby”. Ruby deserves better. Ruby is a kick-ass character, not some watered down version of someone else’s character. Can we make it a thing where we call her Faux-Ruby? I’d be down with that.
[text] This is a mass text to all my friends. Whoever gets this first, please find me and confiscate my phone immediately. I am far too high to have it. Even if you have to punch me in my face to get it. Otherwise, let the “High While Analyzing Disney Movies” texts begin.
Texts from last night! {no longer accepting}
[SMS ;; Arthur] the app I use lets me block your number...[SMS ;; Arthur] But I’ll be sure to notify Morgana immediately just to make sure you’re alright over there.
Once Mae realized it was Arthur and not a complete stranger, she let herself lean into him. "You know if this 's your way of convincin' me that I need to go on a break 's definitely an attention grabber." She paused before sighing dramatically. "May need a bit more convincin' though."
Neal is intimately familiar with his warning signs -- he knows and catalogues the indicators of every emotion before they hit, before he has to feel them. Some he'll allow; the creeping, bodily sigh of exasperation, the dogged fear of determination, the frantic flail of worry. Some (most) make their way through regardless -- fear, despair, elation.
But some are silenced. Before the feeling takes hold he recognizes the inching pinprickles along his flesh, at the roots of his temples -- something in the family of concern. Though perhaps overwhelmed's a better word. The absence of correspondence home makes the emptiness of his desk larger and more cavernous than any mess of paper's he's ever made. The weight of war's wake and the uncertainty of what waters he might be heading into next only heightens his frustration as this newfound and wholly unexpected affection for Camelot that's been kindled.
Or -- maybe not for Camelot, per say.
He hears the door open behind him, heavy and old and loud on its hinges and without so much as a moment's hesitation Neal clears the signs of distress from his expression. The sharp lines around his eyes smooth into nothingness, the hard set of his mouth slants to a wicked angle and he's no longer older than his years and weary for it. Image, he's always known, is as vitally important as the pulse in his neck.
His countenance doesn't even flicker when he glances over his shoulder, notes who has entered. Neal's always been an overthinker. It's his talent; like Kel and her quiet heroism or Alanna and her stuff of legends, his sharp moving mind will likely always be the definition of his character. So he should be moving five steps ahead, thinking of how to extricate himself from this country, this situation, before he falls further and farther and winds up with no shores in sight.
That's what he should do. What he does is grins.
"You know, this whole kingdom of yours could be mightily improved with some well placed holidays, highness."
"-- What?"
It's not as sharp as Neal expects, and that almost makes him laugh as he kicks away from the desk, balancing his chair on its back two legs.
"I was just playing the sentimental fool, thinking of the Spring Feasts that pop up all around this time at home. Tournaments in the capitol, banquets. Dancing."
"How about work?"
Neal does laugh at that, springing languidly from his chair with one graceful step. "Oh no, how droll do you think us? Doing the pragmatic thing when the snows are finally gone and take all the mud and rain with them? Hardly."
He's smart, not prosaic. Even if it makes him selfish and impulsive he needs something nice, something good.
His gaze is sharp but he doesn't make eye contact, letting his words spill up and distract and generally do what they do best.
"You know, if there's any hope for diplomacy, you'll need to know some of our customs. Do you dance?"
"Do I what?"
"Dance -- don't argue with me. And don't make that face. You're royalty, you ought to know how to present yourself with grace if you're invited to dance."
"Are you saying I'm not graceful?"
"Would I ever do that? Let me show you."
"You should have a little more respect and not be so bossy, you know." There's a hint of a laugh in the prince's words and it's like something unrecognized and purposefully ignored swells in Neal's chest.
"Shall I tack on some more formalities then, highness? Your gracious eminence? Prince among men --"
"Alright. Impossible."
It's not the words that bring Neal up short, it's the hand that takes his and the realization that his own had been trembling all the while -- noticeable only for its stopping. That's the moment that he meets Arthur's eyes, and instead of amused exasperation he catches the glimmering edge of confusion in his gaze.
Neal doesn't let the moment to linger. He assumes the position that had been drilled in by every elder noble and instructor he'd ever known and goes through the familiar steps with more patience and care than he'd realized he possessed.
This should be agonizing -- finding some soft spot for a monarch of a kingdom that would have him executed for existing; of a kingdom that's not his home, not his place not his problem --
-- They slow to almost a halt, Neal's gaze glued to Arthur's shoulder, and the great jaw of emptiness inside of him starts to close.
SEND ME A TUMBLR USER’S URL AND I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I THINK OF THEM
pendragxnii:
You’re so great, and I love the threads we have so far. We’ve only recently started to get close but I’m so glad because you seem so nice and your Arthur is so great! Also, I have so many feels all the time with you and our threads are so great and I’m horrible because I’m slow and a butt about replying but you’re so patient and I love that because that’s all I look for in an rp partner since I’m shit at keeping on time but anyway, yes you’re lovely and I’d love to talk to you more more and more.
pendragxnii said: Telepathy is great and so is crystallisation cause she’s so staunch and all. As for the name idk if you have that yet but what about The Duchess?
I can't use both, though, 'cause then I'd end up turning her into Emma Frost... The Duchess, eh? That's a pretty good name. I'll keep it in mind. I haven't thought of the official name I'm gonna give Gwen, but the other ones I've got so far are Crimson Queen and Dragonette.
apurekindness said: I think telepathy is great! She always seemed super observant so that ties in with her personality?
Ok last night my friend and I were telling each other about things we had fooled our siblings about when we were kids and we just realised we're really awful older siblings like WOW. My brother believed I could control the weather. For years. That's how awful (and good) I was. YEP.
HAHAHAHAHAHA FANTASTIC
I told my sis that there was a hole behind the tv and that in order to go on television you had to step through the hole and it made you instantly small like you see people on screen and she was reeeaally disappointed when she found out 'getting famous' wasn't so easy after all
Camelot verse where Hekate is the daughter of a freaking scary ass warlord who is just so freaking in awe of Ygraine. Little Hekate ditching Arthur to go hang around with his -totally not dead what do you mean dead?- mummy because she's the bomb diggity.
"Arthur when I grow up I want to be exactly as scary as your mum."
"My mother is a Queen- she is not scary she is regal and dignified!" *cue pouty chubby cheeked bb artie*
"So you're going to tell her you stole that cake from the kitchens?" *far too skilled eyebrow raise in bb hek*
