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Tweak says, "Wiffout you cwazy wesbians?"

Arthur - The Point Man (noimagination) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2010-07-31 23:28:00

Entry tags:

arthur, morgana

Who: Arthur and Morgana.
What: Arriving in Colligo.
When: July 31. Late evening.
Where: Outside the library.
Rating: TBD.
Status: Incomplete.

He was in a library.

He was in a library, surrounded by books. Hardly anything unexpected or worrying on the surface. But Arthur was nothing if not observant. He walked over to a shelf, running his fingers along the spines and noting the peculiarities of the books. Some books had no title while others had simply a name, some thicker and some thinner. There was no rhyme or reason or scheme to them and it grated on him. His fingers stopped on one book in particular. Arthur - he didn't even finish thinking the name before he had slipped the book into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. His mind immediately set to work, trying to think of how he had come to be in this place.

Familiar words rang in his mind, warning and lesson all at once.

You never really remember the beginning of a dream. You always wind up right in the middle of the action.

How did you get here? To this place?

How did I get here?

Nothing.

He was dreaming, he had to be. He was in someone's unconscious mind or they were in his and it worried him how he hadn't realized it sooner. His grip tightened around the briefcase with the PASIV device inside, and he slipped his free hand into the pocket of his trousers, the loaded die a familiar and comforting weight against his palm. He took it out and rolled it. Paused. Rolled it again. Paused. Again and again and again and his mind rebelled at what he was seeing before his eyes, unable to reconcile it with the reality of his situation. Something was very wrong or he was being tricked because there was no way that was possible. Whoever was doing this knew him better than he could have anticipated, to play tricks like these. That or he was in Limbo. He'd never been to the place so he couldn't say if the totems would work there. He'd never asked Cobb for the details and now he wondered if maybe he should have.

Figures in armor approached and he quickly slipped the die back to it's place in his pocket. Projections were tricky creatures and he didn't want to guess at what sort of mind would make these. Doors opened behind him, and he gave them his most polite smile. "Quite all right, gentlemen," he said, with more calm than he felt, "I'll see myself out." There was no way to know if dying in Limbo, if that was indeed where he was, would bring him back to reality or send him further downward in a spiral, and it wasn't something he wanted to chance. He walked out of the library and paused as one of the guards tossed him a PDA. He studied the device curiously before slipping it into his pocket and sitting on the steps, taking in the city around him.

It was beautiful, marvelous really. Even in the relative dark of evening it was magnificent to behold. It was every city and none, with all the hallmarks and none of the specifics. Whoever had created this place had done amazing work, and he would have see what sort of architect could have come up with this, if he weren't so desperate to be free of it. They had to rival Ariadne in talent and imagination. He took out the die again, rolling it until his eyes got tired of the same number coming up over and over again and even the streetlight didn't give enough light to make it worth his while to keep going. His free hand rested on the briefcase the entire time. "I have to hand it to this place," he said thoughtfully to himself. "Whoever dreamed this up was thorough. I should really like to meet the mind behind this."

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future_seer
2010-08-01 06:13 pm UTC (link)

She knew that she should have waited. That she possibly should have asked; however, the minute she had laid eyes on it she knew that she had had to buy it. Large and occupying most of one of the four bags in her hand, was a blanket with horses and moons woven into it. The cover was fit for a baby boy or a baby girl. It was certainly something that the child could grow into. It had been an impulse purchase - not at all uncustomary for her - and she didn't regret it at all. Morgana hoped that Gwen and Arthur liked it as much as she did; she felt that Arthur, strangely enough, would.

For some reason it had reminded her of home. Which was why she had to buy it. Not of Camelot but of home. Of nights curled up under a large cover, waiting for her father to come home from whatever campaign Uther had sent him off into.

Her own blanket had been nothing like this one; nevertheless, this one reminded her of warmth and comfort. Of safety. And while she knew that unlike her father, Arthur wasn't going anywhere, and unlike his own he would most certainly be there. Morgana had bought it and she knew that he would understand.

She just hoped that he didn't hide it all under his idiotic bluster and complaining about how she was going to spoil his child more than he would get a chance to do so. Which was likely all true. That didn't mean she wanted to hear him complain about it.

Her fingers opened slightly as she adjusted the straps of the bags against the palms of her hands. Morgana chose to walk because the weather was absolutely lovely and she wanted to enjoy it while she could. She had left while the stores had just been closing and had set out to enjoy the cool night air against her skin. Stopping at a diner for some food and then at a bookstore before setting out on foot. It was a danger to be traveling at night alone - Gwen's own attack pressing fore in her mind - however, her mind was set on this. She wasn't in the mood to be cooped up in a taxi. Further, she had means of defending herself, not excluding the contents in her bag.

She was passing by the library, pausing momentarily near the steps to adjust something in one of her bags when a voice caught her attention. Morgana frowned, as she looked up, catching only his last two sentences. They caused her brow to quirk. The calmness and certainty to the words, and what he said caught her interest. It was a bit curious. She had been here for some time and had seen all sorts of reactions on the message board. She didn't recall anyone being sure that it had been a dream.

Hm. It made her wonder for a second how many people immediately accepted that had been somehow transported to another location and how many thought it was all in their mind. In her case, she had thought it the former. She rarely ever, near bordering on never, dreamed of herself. And if she dreamed of knights, it was typically followed by Arthur and death. Lastly, she'd never thought that her dreams were anyone else's but her own.

"I doubt that there is a person here that wouldn't." She said. Yes, he was talking to himself but if he hadn't wanted to be over-heard he could have easily kept his thoughts in his head. "However, I'm rather certain that all of this is very much real. And not a figment of your dreams or anyone elses." Unless he meant the colloquial sense and rather than literal. Perhaps she should have asked rather than assume.

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