fandomhighdorms | Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

"Today," Arthur announced, looking fit and rested after his first night in a room that did not have an annoying desert noble in it. "We will be talking about the kind of inconveniences that Fandom likes to drop on us from the skies. Sure, poptarts or syrup may seem like a novelty, but when we're dealing with it in a combat situation it suddenly takes on an entirely new angle. Because of that, we are going to spend this week coming up with potential items of rain, and how to deal with them."

He was not going to allow any laughter in his reserves, and his expression made it clear that this was not funny. No, not even to you, newbies.

Zack was not going to giggle. He wasn't. He was going to plaster the most solemn look ever onto his face and he was going to nod. Solemnly.

"We saw the syrup on Friday," he noted, crossing his arms over his chest, because it was easier to pretend that he wasn't about to start giggling like an idiot if he looked at least remotely professional on the outside. "Which was inconvenient enough on Friday. Can you imagine what it would have been like, trying to slog through that mess with a bunch of vampires or griffons or malboros bearing down on top of you? It'd gum up your weapons, get in your eyes. We'd be dead meat." A pause. "And extra tasty."

That was helpful, Zack. Thank you.

... Zack, Arthur was trying to be serious. Please don't make him laugh.

Which he was making an effortless show of not doing, thank you. "Those of you who've been here long," he said, "Should share what you know about what rains from the sky. There are things we should be able to stock up on in case an invasion coincides with one of these things, such as glasses when the rain is-- glittery." Not. Laughing. "There are also ways we should be able to use these effects against our enemy. Had the harpies attacked during the syrup rain, it may have slowed their flight considerably, offering us new chances to attack."

"Or like the rain of condoms over in that other--" Zack clapped his hands over his mouth, wide-eyed and blushing. And then he fell into a fit of giggles the like the world had never before seen. There was a moment of that, and then he moved one hand away from his mouth, waving it vaguely in the direction of the other people around them. They could start any time now!

Helpfully, Arthur reached over to give Zack a thwap over the back of his head. "Get talking," he informed the crowd with a restrained smile.

[OCD ~~on the way!~~ up, and it helps if I note that fact, self.]

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She wasn't a stalker; he was just the only one of the two leaders who hadn't looked like a giggling imbecile. That they'd met before was immaterial, except that it meant Illyria knew his name.

"Arthur Pendragon." Just in case, you know. He didn't. "This is your army?"

"This is my military reserve," Arthur answered, with absolutely no need to pay lip service to the fact there were at least two other people also in charge of the reserve. It was his. Dammit. "Illyria."

"Military reserve. Held in waiting for defense." She'd heard Hannibal's arguments on the subject of conquering, yes. She'd thought they were asinine, but no more than any other feature of the way this world ran.

Well, perhaps a bit more, because they came from Hannibal.

Arthur would have to agree that many things sounded asinine when they came from Hannibal in general.

"It is the way of this time," he said, lightly. Not that he had any intentions of invading anything back home.

Uh. Yet.

You know. One day non-citizens might need help, and it would be a lot easier if they just became citizens, but. "Best to at least be prepared if we can't have an actual standing army."

Illyria cast an eye across the assembled... children. She had no doubts that some of them were warriors; last night's spar with Azula had proven that. But they were still children. "I had a standing army once," was all she said. "I came back to find it fallen."

He straightened. "I am sorry about your people." Yes, okay, maybe Arthur was jumping to conclusions, but you would have to excuse him for this one.

It was close enough to the truth. They were dust. She'd slept the sleep of the dead through whatever had happened to make them so. "I failed them." Betrayal was a neutral word in my day, as unjudged a word as water or breeze.

Edited 2009-09-08 17:53 (UTC)

"What happened to them?"

Arthur, put your bleeding heart tendencies back and away from the ancient demonspawn, please.

"I don't know." That shouldn't bother her so much. "I was dead at the time."

... Ah.

Well. He'd fought... zombies. She didn't quite... look like one? A moment of confusion passed across his features, but he would just let that... eb away. "That can only be a burden," he went for, eventually. Because really, what did you say to that? "Well," he continued, "You are welcome to join this army, if you wish to stand with us."

Sometimes, Arthur. Sometimes.

"I--" I don't join armies; I lead them.

And she'd done so well at that.

"Perhaps." Her eyes flicked elsewhere for a moment. "I'm supposed to be looking for something worthy."

"Something worthy?" Arthur asked, his eyebrows going up lightly. "Now that's--" Find a kind word. "Broad."

"I asked how one lives in this world, if it's nothing but grief and regret." Ask a narrow question...

... Yes. "Cheerful," he opined. It was probably not the cleverest thing to say in the presence of an ancient warlord, but it was the first thing that came to mind. "But in that respect, we're not low on worthy things, I suppose. A people, your own life, your freedom..."

This was not at all a complicated subject for Arthur.

Likewise, bitchboy. Likewise. Not her people, not her life, and she was bound to the shell of the woman whose life it should have been.

"I should like to find those things." The last two, at least. The first...surprised her to hear herself say it, and was obviously impossible.

Edited 2009-09-08 18:54 (UTC)

He shot her a glance. Eager to snap out of the moment with some flippancy, and yet still struck by the desire to do something, he settled on, "Well, those of us spawned human get a shot at it; I can only hope kings can earn the same."

That almost made her smile; if she couldn't hold a gun without Fred's memories babbling at her, she certainly couldn't have said his name aloud without knowing its weight.

"As do I, Prince Arthur."

Merlin ~~was a stalker~~ peered over at the ~~terrifying~~ odd blue girl from his spot near Arthur. Yes, that would be a lot of staring.

She might have stared back at the boy with the golden eyes when she'd done speaking with Arthur; it was pretty hard to tell with Illyria whether she was staring at you thinking Hey, we could start a My Eyes Didn't Use To Be This Color club, or just searching for some sort of lost empire just over your left shoulder.

Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

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