[closed/incomplete]

[modraed]

Characters: Mordred (modraed), Morgan Le Fay (ofninefaie)
Date/Time: Sunday afternoon, 04/03/2011
Location: Driving around
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: tba
Summary: Mordred and Morgan take a road trip in a semi-stolen car

Comments

[modraed]

As far as he was concerned meeting someone live was preferable to online; Mordred felt you could learn a lot about someone by studying their reactions and the anonymity of a computer didn't allow you to do that. Besides, it was far easier to assert dominance when the other person could clearly see that you were both bigger than them and more prone to violence.

"I'm sure you do, I'd be happy to meet them. We could talk business, I'd love to know what firm you hired them from," he responded, barely concealing a smirk as he wondered if she knew that he owned his own security firm and worked as a bodyguard. Of all the things she could have thought of to say. "I'll be certain to be on my best behavior then, since I'd rather not miss dinner."

Standing still, he allowed her to survey him, aware that she needed to feel as though she was in control. He expected this type of situation, and on the off-chance someone inside the house was watching he made sure to keep his hands where she could see them. Unlike most people in his position, Mordred knew well enough to keep his levels of psychopathy to manageable, barely even detectable levels, mainly because he knew that it only applied in certain situations. Until he knew more about Diva, and what she remembered, he would step lightly and play it close to the vest.

"Ah yes, now if only I knew your middle name, then we'd be on even footing." He smiled as a chuckle escaped his lips, following her over to the Mustang. He watched as she got in before doing so himself, taking a moment to adjust the seat as he was apparently taller than the cars' usual driver. "Pick a direction, my dear, and I will drive there. I am you chauffeur for the day, so long as you don't mind a quick detour to the nearest burger joint."

[ofninefaie]

His comment made her take a look at the silent house. Her mother required security, her brother disdained it, she abhorred it. Diva liked her own privacy, the sudden wishes to leave the house at random hours without looking back for some fool who thought she’d be attacked by shadows. While she was grateful for knowing her mother was protected at all times, she couldn’t bear the idea of forcing herself under the same treatment. And to be honest, who would care to attack except some mugger on the street? Diva wasn’t important to the company, not yet.

“Best behavior, you say?” She shook her head lightly, as if amused. “I have lived with my brother my whole life, sweetie. The only times he used the words best behavior involved a very long and lovely morning after. As long as we keep the hangovers to a minimum, we should be fine.”

One hand tapped the glass by her right lightly, indicating the adjoining street.

“Here I thought I had offered to take your mind off things and now, I am earning myself a driver. I mean, that wasn’t the whole purpose, was it? Makes me wonder if you were just bored.” Made her wonder a lot of things, a lot that were derived solely from curiosity and were not proper to be asked just yet. Maybe one day she would be comfortable enough to drill him with simple questions. But they weren’t friends - not yet, at least - and best was to keep things light. Unimportant. “Does it bother you? To be left in the dark about little things?”

Diva turned her eyes to him then, forgoing the world outside her window. Lately the world seemed to be all inside a private joke and she was left on the outside. It was most nagging, like an itch in a place she could not touch.

[modraed]

He followed her gaze, unaware of what she was thinking but knowing that his words struck some sort of a chord with her. Obviously there was more going on that he realized, but instead of satisfying his burgeoning curiosity by asking he felt it best to leave the situation alone unless she brought up anything further. He wasn't the type to pry into other peoples' business, as he didn't appreciate when they poked their nose into his. Considering his history some might find that ironic, though to him it was simply a sign of maturity. Mordred would rather not give people more to loathe him for, not in this lifetime at least.

"I hope you won't be disappointed to discover I'm not like your brother, darling," he mused lightly as he started the car and pulled out of the driveway. "I simply meant I will drive responsibly while we're out. No street racing or cliff jumping." He was joking; he rarely drove irresponsibly in the first place, although he had a penchant for speeding when he needed to blow off some steam.

Taking the right turn she indicated without question, he trusted that she knew this area better than he did.

"You are taking my mind off things, don't you worry about that. Had you not offered this diversion I probably would be in a dank little gym pounding away on a punching bag imagining it was the self-satisfied smirk of a certain few who seem to plague my existence." It was a mildly telling statement, once that he felt no desire to elaborate upon unless pressed by her. He was a man of few words - unless he had been drinking or something stirred up certain emotions - and while he doubted she'd mind he never really knew how people would react to him until it was already too late. Pausing at a red light, he glanced at her sharply when she put forth her query. "Yes, constantly."

Mordred nearly continued, wanting to articulate the slight amusement at how telling such a question coming from her could be. He didn't, as he was unsure of how much she knew of the secrets his mother had kept from him. "Why do you ask?"

[ofninefaie]

“If I wanted to hang out with my brother, I’d be inside, hollering in his ears for him to remember it’s afternoon and not inane hours of the morning.” The girl shifted on the seat, pulling her numb leg from underneath her only to hug it against her chest. It was widely known around her that Diva would never manage to sit still nor in a normal position unless forced by serious circumstances. “Be yourself, be polite and correct all you want this time and maybe next. Hm, I don’t know. Snowboarding? Parasailing? I draw the line at mountain climbing. And that way.”

Another tap on the window as she indicated the adjacent street. Two streets down and another left. The burger joint was relatively close, she remembered, even if it was mostly her brother who ate and lived by the place. Again, her attention shifted back to the man by her side, her head twisting lightly to the side so she could use her knee as support.

“There’s always some idiot around making our life a mess. That’s human condition. One man’s hell is another’s heaven. You know, all the philosophical stuff they forcefeed us in school?” She snickered lightly, shaking her head before resting it again. “But you don’t sound like the type that would put up with it quietly. Or maybe I read too much into it. Is this about that idiot you punched? The one from the community?” The one who frequently made her roll her eyes at the computer screen or just smile in amusement because it should have been some couple centuries since this mentality was broadly spread.

And there she went, right back into the community. It was a serious subject for her and she had little conclusions drawn about it. But, she thought vaguely, it made sense that he would dislike it so. She did. She did it so much but still plunged into denial instead of asking. Because the fear of finding something horrible about herself was far worse than any curiosity and she wouldn’t risk it. For now, at least.

“Because I hate it. Because I don’t think it was fair. Because you don’t deserve it.” And she smiled again, apparently not even noticing that she shouldn’t have known him well enough to say such things. Or that she didn’t even know what had been fair or not. “It’s Angela.”

[modraed]

"So he's the type who would prefer to laze about all day as opposed to doing something worthwhile?" There was something almost amusingly judgmental in his tone, as though he couldn't abide laziness even in strangers. Having worked for everything he ever had, and he counted his personal war against Arthur under that everything, as far as Mortimer was concerned people who ambled through life never got anywhere. "I've tried snowboarding, it's quite exciting. Parasailing never appealed to me, and mountain climbing is only good in large groups."

Turning towards the direction that she indicated with an appreciative humming, he was enjoying this little excursion more than he had assumed he would. For starters, Diva was proving herself to be quite the interesting little passenger, and while in reality she had been older than him when they both first lives he was feeling oddly protective of his aunt. He wondered if that might change once the truth came out.

"I believe the difference with your theory and the reality of our situation is that if it was just some idiot we could find them and forcibly make them stop. With this, none of us seem to know who happens to be pulling the strings." He considered her statement for a moment before continuing further. "And you're right, I'm not the type to put up with it quietly. However, when we don't yet know our enemy we need to bide our time." He smirked. "As for the idiot, we'' he deserved to be punched and I can't say if given the opportunity I wouldn't do it again." Poseidon was a perfect punching bag, truly.

If she wanted to discuss the community he wouldn't mind. He felt that it deserved to be picked apart with those who saw it as more than a communication network as well. He had many theories, ones that he hadn't shared with much of anyone, but he felt as though Diva could be one of the privileged few who he might trust. Her, Agravaine, Amphitrite, Elaine, Famine, and Galahad were all part of an elite circle. Minos and Sigyn were on the outskirts but depending could be let in as well. He chose his friends and confidants carefully.

"None of us deserve it, though we could argue that there are some who were hit harder and who constantly live with the specters of their past." He glanced over at her, brushing aside how true her words were as he smiled in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "Angela and Gerard, road-trippers?"

[ofninefaie]

Instead of feeling overprotective of her brother, Morgan just smiled. She knew her brother better than anyone, better than their mother and all the fools that occasionally found their way into her house. And she also knew that she had been the one to take the elder place - always - not by being more responsible at first, but simply because he was that laidback. She adored him though and accepted it as part of his personality. “When I was fifteen, I was in a car accident and broke my leg. He carried me around and refused to leave me alone.” Mainly because he had been driving but accidents were accidents and he was hardly to blame.

Another shift, light this time, just the barest turn so she could watch the street at the same time. “Then I’m nearly out with radical activities. Biking’s nice and so is this. Driving around. And there’s always visiting old castles but that might be considered radical to, you know. Ninety year olds?”

“And about that,” she continued turning slightly more serious. “I never believed in God. Fate, you name it. Now I walk on the same streets with them. Who’s to say it’s not one of them fooling around?” Talking about that, no, asking bluntly wouldn’t be right. Even if she wanted, if the question was right on the tip of her tongue. Who had he been? They all seemed to be someone important in the past - not her, never her damnit. Diva honestly doubted he was the exception - she was, she. Denial was becoming too common lately.

And his last comment, it sounded so him - strangely enough.

Diva straightened in the chair, laughing briefly, honestly, before reaching out to tug a strand of his hair. She had always been like that. No personal space was too personal. “And even if he didn’t give you the opportunity, you’d still do it. He rubs people the wrong way, I noticed.” Another tug, as a call of attention. “End of the street, then turn left and we’re there.”

His last words though, those hit her harder. It was like confirming he was one of those people, those who confused her, who spoke of the past like she spoke of her childhood in the streets of the Italian capital. She never knew exactly how to take it. But she also felt sorry. How hard knowing this had to be. She slid her fingers down the strands almost nostalgically and pulled out all together, leaning against the chair in what could be considered a correct position. Wouldn’t last long.

“I’d feel sorry they can’t leave things behind. I know I did wrong things but still. It’s good to move on.” Like this seriousness. She smiled again, almost despite herself. “Road-trippers. We should go south. Past Mexico. I always wanted to check out Brazil.”

[modraed]

When it came down to it, Mordred had never been the overprotective type. He had been the youngest, and in this life the only, and as such had never had anyone to be protective of. He knew Agravaine was somewhat protective of him, and he respected that, but when it came to the woman to his right he wasn't exactly concerned with her life history. "Charming. I'm sure he took his duties as your personal courier quite seriously. That doesn't explain the penchant for sleeping in you've mentioned." Honestly, there was no good or logical reason he could come up with for anyone to sleep the day away.

He cracked a slight grin at her comment about castles, feeling foolish for wanting to admit that he always had a fondness for the structures. "I wouldn't go that far, a haunted castle might be too much for a ninety year old."

Her words struck a chord with him, and he answered as honestly as he could considering the circumstances. "I doubt that any of them would be powerful enough, I mean the ones you're speaking of are of a more ancient ilk, correct? While there was once a time I believed in God and the apocalypse now I'm quite sure we'll all be our own undoing." It was clear that there was more she wanted to say, but Mordred wasn't one to make things easier in these situations. In fact, he was only speaking of it because she brought it up.

He had probably said far too much anyway, though sometimes it couldn't be helped.

Mortimer was thankful they had been paused at a stop light when he felt her fingers tugging his hair. The urge to slap her hand away was there, and strong, though he ignored it in favor of concentrating on the road. "I would, because I don't appreciate the way he treats the women in his life. Or anyone else for that matter." He gave a quick nod as if to acknowledge her directions, doing as she said.

Spotting the burger place up ahead as her hand finally left his hair, he did his best to keep his attention on the task at hand even though all he wanted to do now was tease her about her seeming fascination with his hair. Did she feel it was good hair, was she secretly a hair dresser marveling that he was letting it run wild? There had to be a reason she had decided to start pulling his hair, and he genuinely wanted to know. Of course, he knew she'd expect an answer to her comments as well, and he had one ready to give.

"In many cases they can't leave them behind because it's come to define them. Or they've tried to move on and others won't let them forget." Which happened quite a bit more than he's like. "Wouldn't your brother mind if we took his car to Brazil?"

[ofninefaie]

“No, it doesn’t. But it does let me forgive it more easily.” Fact was, Mark was the sort of person who couldn’t take things seriously. And he was her twin. What could she do but accept his lesser traits when the greater ones were so nice to have around? Better was that their mother allowed him to do whatever he wanted instead of pushing him to follow her own road. Parents. Never knew exactly how to better act with their children. Even Diva wasn’t exactly what she expected or wished.

It was like suddenly discovering another interest in common and the thoughts about her family were neatly nipped before they could enlarge and encompass reasons for the slight dysfunctionality. Diva stared at her companion’s face, undisguised curiosity in her expression. “Been to a ton and have yet to find anything like a ghost. Do you like it? Old castles? Because people begin to tell me my little obsession’s a sad sad thing.” Which might be true considering she was just delving into it with the slightest opening. She almost seemed a little girl when she pulled back, embarrassed over her silliness.

“Guess you’re right. It’d be too masochistic to just put themselves into our shoes and live a normal life,” Diva continued, pushing herself into the more serious matter without hesitation. “But still. It sounds wrong. I’ve been talking with people lately. Elaine, for example. Do you know her?” Likelihood that he did was high so she simply kept going. “What kind of merciful God would just stick people in this roundabout fashion?” It was unfair. It was wrong. It was basically what any human would think of a divine entity playing around with others’ lives.

Dear God, was she being ridiculous with her thoughts or what? She was supposed to take his mind off things, not to force him to think of all the issues that were crossing her mind. She shrugged, almost self-depreciatingly. “Not such a good company, am I? Seriously, wouldn’t it better to simply go at times? Sure, he’d follow us to retrieve the car, if nothing else. It’s been a while since I went out though. Actually, country wise. I kinda miss it.”

Without warning, Diva opened the window all the way down, leaning so the wind would touch her face. “Gerard. Random question?”

[modraed]

"Being able to forgive more easily is always a good thing when it comes to ones' siblings," he agreed, thinking of his own as a rare smile came to his face. Rare in the fact that it was genuine, not marred by a sardonic twist or any pretensions. Of his older brothers Agravaine was by far his favorite, the one who supported him and always had his back. Gawain was the golden one he aspired to be like, Gaheris the goody-two shoes who killed their mother, and Gareth had always been too sweet for his own good. The knowledge that he and Vaine might one day be joined by their brothers left an odd taste in his mouth.

When he realized Diva actually was serious about liking castles he flashed her an amused look even though he kept his eyes on the road. "The fact that you genuinely like castles makes me think there's more to you than I initially suspected. I've found myself wasting hours exploring old battle sights and castles, but that's because where I grew up there was either getting into history, athletic endeavors, or drugs," he explained. "Battlefields are best for ghost sightings, as are more mythical places." As far as he was concerned she had nothing to feel embarrassed about.

He listened to her rambling as the car neared their destination, decided they could always eat later since he didn't want to have her halt her musings while they got food. "If given the chance would you want to put yourself in our shoes when you could be something more?" It was the eternal question - Who wouldn't want to be like unto a god? "I do know Elaine, she's an interesting woman. I'm quite sure she and my brother would murder each other if locked in the same room for long enough." He laughed bitterly. "And you answered your own question, no merciful god would." A vengeful one, on the other hand...

When she made the comment insinuating she wasn't proving to be good company he waved it off, the glance in her direction more sympathetic than one might think him capable of. "You're fine, you clearly have questions and theories about this godsawful cock-up of a network we've all stumbled upon and don't have anyone else to speak of it with. You can rant, rave, and question me to your little heart content, I don't mind." And he didn't, really. It felt nice to know someone else wasn't content with all this.

The breeze felt nice, compelling Mortimer to roll down his window as well. "How random are you talking?" He shrugged, gesturing at her. "Shoot."

[ofninefaie]

It was so uncharacteristic to see him smile, so much of a novelty, that Diva had to force herself to keep immobile instead of reaching out to repeat her previous gesture. There was something rather heartwarming in his expression at that moment, like they were fewer barriers between them than she could expect. But it could also be an illusion. She was barely a stranger to this man, never mind how odd thoughts and feelings tried to be attached to him. Hands stilled, fingers entwined and she simple smiled in return, openly as always. “That. That suits you.” And it would be the only comment made.

Turning yet again in the chair, she allowed herself to be swept in his story. That was almost funny, the random similarity. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Definitely nothing out of the ordinary. Just dad and I. We used to go off on these historical trips when I was a kid. Italy has them all over, you see. It was the whole father-daughter thing. I find funny that you do. Battlefields? Really? Hm. I see what you mean but.” But those were probably places she would avoid. A battlefield was a place of death and sorrow, not magic and nostalgia.

“And don’t know about you, sweetie, but I’m pretty good with the mortality bit of life. Don’t get me wrong, I adore living. I just don’t think godhood is all that the advertisers say.” There was every bit of faith on her words. Life had meaning because there was an end to it. To be able to work for everything she had, that was what made being human real and pleasant. Harder but nice. “I don’t know,” she continued, shaking her head. “The whole thing just sounded so amazing at the time. I try to doubt and half the community tries to metaphorically neuter me for it. You’re one of them. You get them. To me, it’s like being in a private club without knowing why I was invited.”

There was also the whole denial thing which Diva still tended to try to deny. Which brought her right back to her random thought which wasn’t exactly as random since it had everything to do with their conversation. Diva tilted her head to the side, fingers tightening just a little more. This hadn’t been asked yet but to whom would she?

“When you knew. That you were someone else? Tell me, did you regret remembering?” It was lot more personal that it might seem and she had complete conscience he could not answer. This was her major issue though. If she had been someone - could have been. Maybe. - would she remember only to hate that part of herself? God, that was almost too emo to deal with.