[Open] Elvish Camp Log.
Who: Anyone marked for dinner by the elves.
When: August 12th - 13th
Where: The Elvish Camp, in the far mist.
Format: Setup is Action. As for the rest, do what you like.
What: Welcome to Mist Camp. For lunch we're having... you.
Warnings: SEE THE ANSWER TO "WHAT ( Read more... )
When: August 12th - 13th
Where: The Elvish Camp, in the far mist.
Format: Setup is Action. As for the rest, do what you like.
What: Welcome to Mist Camp. For lunch we're having... you.
Warnings: SEE THE ANSWER TO "WHAT ( Read more... )
A crooked mustache.
[It's comforting to know that he's here. Maybe especially because he reminds her of Ned. But Arthur Pendragon must go home and become king. That is still ahead of him. No matter how bad this is, how terrifying if she allows herself to think about the fact that she is being held prisoner in a barbarian camp, things must turn out all right. He must escape this somehow. And if she is with him, she should be safe, too.
She has to concentrate to remember the words correctly, but somehow it comes to her.]
And through that strength the King drew in the petty princedoms under him, fought, and in twelve great battles overcame the heathen hordes, and made a realm and reign'd.
[Terrence wasn't the only one to take solace in Tennyson. The mere fact that these lines of verse exist at all is enough to get her down to the door, moving carefully, her hand still tight in his. Her smaller hand snakes outside of the cage, feeling along the edge of the rustic door.]
Maybe they've forgotten to lock us in as well.
[ ( ... )
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[But of course she can't stop, sickened thoughts spinning around in her head.]
[But he's right, he's right of course. If she thinks too much she'll start to wonder who that skull might have belonged to and she'll be completely lost. She can't do that. She must keep her head and help him. The hand not supporting him goes to his arm as well, and she holds onto him for support, though more figuratively.]
[Recite something else. The Idylls have left her head, Tennyson abandoning her. But a verse of Browning comes to mind, and she speaks it in a shaking, sinking voice, barely hearing herself.]
Yet half I seemed to recognize some trick of mischief happened to me, God knows when--- In a bad dream perhaps. Here ended, then, progress this way. When, in the very nick of giving up, one time more, came a click as when a trap shuts---you're inside the den.
[Mustn't think about it, but the empty sockets stick with her.]
Didn't you need a weapon?
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I can manage without.
[ A weapon hadn't served in preventing his capture, after all. Stealth was needed here, stealth and courage. ]
Could those locks be opened from the outside? If we get as many as we can, people can free themselves.
[ Does he say it to maximize the amount of people they can help? Or because he is searching, already peering into the first cage they come across, staring at the slumped body with his heart in his throat and for a moment, because of the Mist, he thinks... but instead he gives Verity a series of near-incomprehensible hand gestures as though she's a knight: stay here, keep watch, I'll be just around the corner. ]
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[She nods, absently, mind running on another track altogether. One it should be stopped on before reaching its destination.]
Yes, they're fairly simple. The one on our cage, it was just a pin in a slot. It was just made to be impossible to reach from the inside. It should be simple. Just pull out the pin.
[She watches him gesture at her and wonders when he thought it fit to switch from whispering to nonsensical hand signals. She frowns at him. He probably wants her to stay behind but there is no way she's doing that, now. She waits a beat and follows him, surprisingly quiet on her light little feet.]
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