[goddamn crackplots]

[illgotten]

It doesn't get any better after he gets out of the library.

Somewhere in the midst of the Mansion, one Michael Wilkinson -- Mordred only to his very close friends -- sits with his head in his hands. He's a little taller, a little older, but mostly recognizable to any of his erstwhile acquaintances.

Comments

[littlebetter]

...So. The prodigal brother, who may or may not remember that he just slept with Cimorene, God help him. Having escaped, fully dressed, although much rumpled, he is attempting to get back to the cottage when he nearly falls over Mike.

[illgotten]

"Watch it," curtly, not looking up.

[littlebetter]

He steps back quickly. "Sorry," because he recognises the tone, if not the accent; and because when he's sane he prefers Orkneyspeak to English or Latin he uses it automatically.

[illgotten]

"Yeah, whatever."

[littlebetter]

Unless Mordred looks up or does something otherwise to stop him, he's going to skirt around and make good his escape; and indeed he begins to do so.