♔ 1 | Drift Away

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur finds council meetings thoroughly boring at the best of times and this is not the best of times, Samhain is swiftly approaching and with it the end of the summer harvest, so more council meetings then ever have been convened over the last couple of weeks. And for most of the time there's nothing new to hear anyway

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[waterfell]

[And now Arthur is daydreaming of that swordswoman he met, the magic-using female warrior. She speaks to his exact wishes.]

What are you doing cooped up inside? You should be out training!

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur gives Mercury a wry smile.]

"The work of a temporary regent-" [at least, he assumes it will be temporary. Arthur, ever the optimist-] "If I could escape I would."

[waterfell]

You need the chance to unwind and focus your mind.

[not_a_clotpole]

"I do, but try convincing this bunch." [He gestures to the rather obliviously men around him. Most of them are old, but there's his uncle Agravaine there.]

"How have you been?" [He vaguely recalls something, something she did for him, but he can't remember what it was.]

[no_hometown]

[He can relate, to both the tedium of meetings and the comparative pleasure and release of sparring. So he responds to the sounds of swords.

The gathering Sephiroth in the midst of is both military and corporate in nature, a recital of news bad and worse. He already knows everything that is going to be said, so why listen closely to the infuriating way they state it?]

It's simpler, isn't it? More precise, more pure.

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur looks up in surprise at the stranger's sudden appearance.

But for some reason it doesn't alarm him as it usually would.

He gives the man a wry smile.]

"So it is. I believe I'd always come out the better man if this was how they were settled."

[no_hometown]

I believe the same. [He returns the smile. In his current state of mind, he barely thinks it odd that he's conversing in this manner, though perhaps he should.

Looking over the ShinRa executives seated around him, it's easy to see that none of them would stand so much as a chance with him in battle.] That would make my job much easier. Dispense with this morass of politics and hypocrisy.

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur rolls his eyes in the direction of Geoffrey of Monmouth, the ponderous old archivist who enjoys speaking, at length on every subject that presents itself to him.]

"It is a shame, but I suppose allowances must be made for those who are less skilled in duels."