Arthur Pendragon | Arthur Malory (onceaking) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-03-13 08:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | arthur, merlin |
Who: Merlin (myrddin) & Arthur (onceaking)
What: An encounter both happenstance and inevitable.
When: Friday evening.
Where: A Manhattan social event.
Warnings: None.
At some point, Arthur thought, he would remember why he was standing in the Museum of Modern Art.
He'd avoided a tuxedo, something to be grateful for. The lack of twinkly music was a plus as well -- music should not, Arthur believed, compliment the pretentious sound of silverware against champagne flutes. Still, it'd been a long week on top of an equally long month (year). He was damnably tired, more distracted than he cared to admit. All this despite the event's wide availability of cocktails and beautiful women in bright dresses which hinted toward the nearness of spring.
No doubt they were all here for a charity function. At worst, a drive for new art. Ordinarily Arthur was on the ball about this sort of thing, but his office was a pot of water threatening to boil over at any moment, and his girlfriend -- who remembered these details when he could not -- had been felled with what they referred to as the "white collar plague". So here he was, out of work just long enough to change ties, exhausted despite the mask he wore which said otherwise.
Surrounded, let's not forget, by people who dressed prettily and patted themselves for token attempts at kindness. Sometimes it was like he'd never left his own court.
Snorting wryly, Arthur waved off an offer of a drink, smiled like the sun for two of his Assistant DAs who flitted by to say hello, then cut through the crowd like a particularly well-dressed knife. There was the announcement of imminent performance art -- potentially interesting, if not necessarily his cup of tea -- but more than anything, he just needed to find somewhere quiet to collect his thoughts. Shaking Arthur up was a challenge beyond most peoples' abilities. Yet he'd recently lost an employee to disease, there were lay-offs and budget cuts to consider, and then this damned persistent thought of running for a higher, more effective seat than District Attorney...
Edging away from the event's attendees and closer toward its hired artists, Arthur raked a hand through his hair. Perhaps turning down that drink hadn't been his best idea.