The Salle, Monday Morning

[bitchprince]

Yes, Arthur was still technically wounded (and wearing that infernal sling so he couldn't actually use his regular sword arm), and if all had been normal, he wouldn't be here. Unfortunately, circumstances dictated that his only other alternative would be to be stuck in one room with Leto and a gaggle of screaming children instead, and he was fairly sure that was what other people meant when they talked about Hell.

The salle was the better option. At least he'd-- imprinted them all with the importance of discipline and swordcraft. Right now, it was a brilliant way to distract the little bastards. With any luck, Gawain would show up (or simply vanish into thin air, because weren't these things supposed to last two days) to make the insanity complete.

He was dragging Reno off to go drinking once this was finished.

He eyed Arawn. "Check your posture," he ordered, "You'll just ruin your arm like that. Morgana, don't point that at-- Down. It's called discipline."

It was going to be a long day.

[[ open to all, especially to insane au relatives of doom (tm) ]]

Comments

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo turned a smug grin calculated to needle on Arthur. "That's my kid."

[bitchprince]

"That's ridiculous," Arthur said, who knew that grin on Katchoo's face in a slightly different capacity. For about the millionth time in his life, he spoke a mental wish that somehow the irritating women in his life would go and torture some other man already.

Of course, generally 'irritating women' came down to 'Morgana', but he was having to widen the scope right now. "You couldn't marry a woman anyway."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Not legally, most places," Morgana recited, rolling her eyes. "But it's the same idea."

Katchoo's smirk got a touch more obnoxious. "Attagirl. Come find me when you're done here, will ya?"

[bitchprince]

Yes. Just leave Arthur standing here looking entirely confused.

It wasn't closeting if you weren't supposed to admit to anything in the first place. Or something.

"Whatever," he finally decided, "Make sure she's fed. Try not to start an argument while you're at it."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Oh, that was exactly what she had in mind. She liked leaving people utterly bewildered.

"God forbid I starve a kid," Katchoo said, still vehement but sincerely so this time as she turned to leave. "Don't worry, she'll eat. Arguments, though, no guarantees."

Because pssh.