Video.

[supercilious]

[ It's well after midnight. The camera feed is a mess of black and grey, the Forge screen the only illumination. It turns Arthur's face sickly, throws unusual shadows across it. His voice is low. ]

Tell me a story.

[ There aren't many left familiar with the way he demands this in bored, petulant tones. ]

About someone you lost.

[ An

Comments

[charmprince]

...Any story?

[supercilious]

Yeah.

Public -> Private

[charmprince]

...Hold on.

[Switching the feed to Private. She doesn't even know why she's doing this. Maybe it's the look on his face. Or maybe she's just needing to lance these particular infections and he's got magical timing.]

I don't normally go airing my dirty laundry like this. But if you're needing sad stories, well, I've got a few. Which would you like? The one where I let my best friend sacrifice herself for me? The one where I watched the girl who loved me most get married, have children, age, and die? Or the one where I was denounced as a monster and run from?

There's other ones, but I guess it all depends on the sort of tale you're asking for.

Private

[supercilious]

I want the tales people want to- no, that's not it, the tales people need to tell.

Private

[charmprince]

...Is there a purpose to this?

--Wait, no. Don't answer that yet.

A tale that needs to be told... Hm. I have one. It starts when I was seventeen-- was it seventeen? Maybe it was sixteen. I don't remember so well. Anyway.

My aunt used to own a bookstore-- I'd do little delivery trips for her, since we had a lot of businesses that'd order books from us, and little old ladies, people like that. Auntie and I never really got along very well, but she raised me, so it was the least I could do, you know? I was taking a shortcut to deliver a book to a family friend-- I used to babysit his son.

And then I got hit by a carriage. Well, by the horses drawing the carriage, but it's the same thing. I'll spare you the gory details, but if you can think of a person who'd survive a hoof to the face, I'd be surprised. I've never known one, nor known anyone who did.

[Her tone is light, but she's definitely not looking at the camera, and her posture is stiff.]

But somehow, I was revived. Only I wasn't... you know, me anymore. Well, I was me,

Private

[supercilious]

You have my word, Asellus. I do not gossip.

[ The words are automatic. He's a little shellshocked, still taking it in. ]

Your hair is lovely, you know. But I never would have guessed. . .

Private

[charmprince]

I figured you weren't the type.

[He's a good guy. But she had to say it, okay?]

Thank you. It means I've been doing well enough. But it's hard to find anything like this something positive, all things considered. I've spent a long time having to deal with the consequences.

[...Getting too close to the really painful parts. Time to joke!]

...On the bright side, it is pretty fun to go lecturing the young'uns. I guess that's the silver lining. They get so confused.

Private

[supercilious]

Hang about, what sort of consequences are we talking about here. If you're. . . are you dead? I don't precisely have a lot of knowledge in this area. You'll have to forgive me if I ask a lot of stupid questions.

Private

[charmprince]

I don't have to. But I will.

I have a pulse, if that's what you're asking. But because of the... person who revived me, I don't really get to classify myself as fully 'human' anymore. Instead I'm half-and-half: half redblooded human, and half blueblooded Mystic. Humans fear and loathe me because I'm not fully human, and Mystics have contempt for anyone who's not wholly theirs.

And when you're kind of shoved into a leadership role because somebody decided to use you as a figurehead for a coup, well...

But that was seventy years ago. I shouldn't hold too much of a grudge, I guess.

...Anyway, it's a pretty wide topic. Why don't you just ask me any questions you might have. Promise I will let you know if they get too awkward.

Private

[supercilious]

All right, let's start with the one I was told never to ask a lady. How old are you?

Private

[charmprince]

It's a good thing I'm not a lady, then, isn't it? Not very old at all.

...Which is to say, I don't really remember very well. Eighty? Maybe ninety? You lose track after a while. How old are you?

Private

[supercilious]

Of course you're a lady, even if you lack the title.

I'm approximately twenty-five. I think. Going home muddled it all up a bit.

Private

[charmprince]

It's just the bearing, actually. I've got the title.

Well. Sort of. Conventions being what they are, they call me Lord. But I'm definitely a woman. Girl. Whatever. Anyway.

You don't seem so young. You act too old for twenty-five.

Private

[supercilious]

[ without sarcasm or irony. ]

My lady.

Ha! Good. I'm royalty, I can't afford to be young.

Private

[charmprince]

Ah, but don't forget that you're human, too. You can't really afford to be old, either.

Of course, it's kind of like asking the alcoholic for tips on choosing wine, but all I'm saying is that it's important to live, too. A King-- you're a king, right? Or a Prince. Last I checked, they were the only men allowed to call themselves royalty-- a King who can't loosen his collar once in a while will go one of two ways: his crown will turn far too heavy for anyone to wear, or he'll go mad. Neither is a pleasant way to go.

Trust me on that one.

But enough about that. I'm not in any place to lecture you. You said 'to start'; what more questions do you have?

Private

[supercilious]

Prince going on King. And I know how to have fun. But I digress.

You have magic, do you not?