#roy.hc

[shiningxrmor]

I apparently haven’t said this but since the Arthurian legend is originally Welsh, both Leroy and Roy are Welsh-equivalent.

[shiningxrmor]

On consideration, the Wending Wood probably fucks with Roy more than it does the average person. The tales of the forest disorienting people who enter it and rearranging itself are true, and those effects happen sooner to Roy. Like, he’ll take a couple steps in and boom the entrance is gone. He likely gets nauseous and develops headaches/migraines to boot.

If he ever set out with the knowledge and intention to find Leroy’s resting place, however, the forest would lead him straight there.

[shiningxrmor]

Holy fuck lads we’re nearly there.

[shiningxrmor]

Forgotten Portrait

Roy tapped the edge of his pencil against the desk. Chin in hand, he stared blankly out the window. The projector flipped slides. The professor gave the year the portrait shown had been commissioned and the name of the man depicted. Leroy Alexander Wyndham, Roy thought as the teacher told them. Eightieth king of the holy country.

Ancient country, he corrected his notes.

He had no real eye for art, but Roy supposed the painting was well done. The vibrancy of the original had faded over time, leaving the projected image flat and dull. Lines shooting off the side of the figure had meant to detail the profile, but now only suggested a poor mimicry of sunbeams. The figure itself was an armored man, hair fanned out behind him with a sword in one hand and helm in the other. Because of the rough treatment of the original over the centuries, the details of the face were blurred.

Roy’s lip curled.

“Not a fan?” One of his friends asked.

“I always hated that portrait. The eyes are too stern.”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”