He's been obsessing about this luau thing since he met a dragon under the bridge.
Who: futurarex + alwaysforhim.
When: November 10th
Where: the Tower Apartments
Summary: Merlin keeps buddying up with magical creatures! This isn't out of the ordinary, but man is it annoying. And irresponsible. But that won't stop him from sharing tales of his adventures with Arthur, probably to cheer him up, which is probably going to backfire. So just the usual, then!
Where in the hell was Merlin?
Arthur drummed his fingers on the kitchen table, and stared out the window. Again. There was always something that needed doing in Camelot, some task or trouble that required his attention--but here, there was nothing. Or nearly nothing.
He should occupy himself, he knew. There was no sense sitting around bemoaning the fact that he was bored, or not doing something constructive. And he would do something to occupy himself, just as soon as he found something worthy of his time. What that would be was difficult to say, considering that there were days when this place seemed beyond hope.
And it didn't help that Merlin was always off doing something else. Or several something elses. It was true that he wasn't precisely Arthur's servant, here in the country of Canada--and if he was to be believed, he held several jobs. Which was perfectly fine. And Arthur didn't need him, certainly; he was quite fine on his own. There was nothing that he needed.
It was just useful, having Merlin there. Except Merlin wasn't there, he was elsewhere. He drummed his fingers against the table, and then shoved away from it, shoving open his book. It was upside down, he realised after a moment, and turned it around the proper way. Right. Reading.
When: November 10th
Where: the Tower Apartments
Summary: Merlin keeps buddying up with magical creatures! This isn't out of the ordinary, but man is it annoying. And irresponsible. But that won't stop him from sharing tales of his adventures with Arthur, probably to cheer him up, which is probably going to backfire. So just the usual, then!
Where in the hell was Merlin?
Arthur drummed his fingers on the kitchen table, and stared out the window. Again. There was always something that needed doing in Camelot, some task or trouble that required his attention--but here, there was nothing. Or nearly nothing.
He should occupy himself, he knew. There was no sense sitting around bemoaning the fact that he was bored, or not doing something constructive. And he would do something to occupy himself, just as soon as he found something worthy of his time. What that would be was difficult to say, considering that there were days when this place seemed beyond hope.
And it didn't help that Merlin was always off doing something else. Or several something elses. It was true that he wasn't precisely Arthur's servant, here in the country of Canada--and if he was to be believed, he held several jobs. Which was perfectly fine. And Arthur didn't need him, certainly; he was quite fine on his own. There was nothing that he needed.
It was just useful, having Merlin there. Except Merlin wasn't there, he was elsewhere. He drummed his fingers against the table, and then shoved away from it, shoving open his book. It was upside down, he realised after a moment, and turned it around the proper way. Right. Reading.