InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Let's not and say we did"

Mordred (the_druid_boy) wrote in utr_logs,
@ 2011-03-02 05:24:00

Entry tags:

mordred, nimue

Who: Mordred and Nimue
When: Evening
Where: His house
What: Getting a new home
Rating: PG-13, maybe R
Status: In progress
Warnings: Profanity, bad language, violence, possibly death

===================================

Mordred, or Johnathan Peterson as he was known here, found himself feeling a bit frustrated of late. Adults could just be so touchy. Hugs, kisses, cheek strokes. Mussing the hair. Embraces. Even pinching a cheek due to being so adorable. Which he didn't really mind all that much if done in moderation. He remembered having real parents once. These people? Were not any of them. They weren't even magical! Not Druid, Siddhe, or Old Religion.. nothing. Just normal people. But he could see in their eyes, how they looked at him, treated him, smiled when he was in the room, the kisses goodnight and tucking in. He acknowledged that they did love him. It was just.. he didn't feel the same. And that sort made him feel just a little bit guilty about it. But he knew the truth and couldn't change it if he wanted to. He knew he wasn't their real son, he had replaced the other boy. It was hard not doing magic in front of anyone. Especially when they were around all the time, and other times, he was in school.. and don't get him started there. There had been a sort of bully taking lunches and bossing around. But somehow when Mordred gave him a 'look', the boy had quickly backed off.

He had went with his false parents tonight for a dinner at a nice restaurant. These clothes were a bit uncomfortable. He much preferred his old ones, with the green Druid cloak. But he had played along. Smiled around them, speaking up occasionally (since he'd overheard talk about taking him to a specialist or psychiatrist if his non-speaking continued) when the opportunity presented itself. It.. did feel a little nice, he'd admit. But awkward too. However, it was when they had returned home that things took a bad turn. The front door was slightly open even though the father locked it. The lights were off but flashlight beams danced around from the window. "We aren't alone," Mordred said as he looked at the door, speaking as though he knew it as fact. "Danger has come."

The father didn't hear as he swung the door open, the mother following fast after him. The young Druid boy cautiously followed inside. There were indeed intruders. And they were none too happy about being interrupted. They said odd words, like "bitch" and "what the fuck", and things like that. He didn't know the words but they weren't good ones, of that he knew with certainty. One of the three men then backhanded the mother, sending her to the floor, while the others pulled guns and a knife while looking at the father. "I told you it was dangerous," Mordred mumbled as he moved in front of his parents.

"Hey mate," the second hoodlum spoke to his leader, "We got some good pearls and cash, what say we have a little fun, eh?" The other two laughed, and the one who must have led them spoke, "Train, yeah? Then we smoke them. No witnesses." The leader then smacked the father with a pistol, then glanced to the mother. Mordred had a good idea of what the thugs were planning. He instinctively knew they were evil. He knew if he didn't refrain from using magic right now, it would shock his parents. But they would at least be alive! And he could feel quiet anger building up in him. He had to act soon or it would be too late. And so.. he heaved, and let out a loud scream, an angry shrill yell that one his age could do when both mad and afraid. What happened next clearly defied science. All the windows in the current room shattered, shards flying outward. His parents were fine, but the three men were caught off guard and knocked on their backs as if by an invisible force. He was met by stares of confusion, and then.. fear? And now anger as the robbers moved to stand up and reach for the handguns they had dropped.

Not enough. It wasn't enough. The magical child had to make it permanent, it seemed. He had killed before out of necessity. When surrounded by knights that would kill him swiftly. So he stood there, staring firmly at the criminals. It was a fiery yet icy type stare. A type of, You screwed with me and now you will pay dearly type of stare. Suddenly, a series of knives that they had in one of their bags started to float up and hover in mid air. Then turned as with a will on their own and pointing right at the men. Before any protests, the blades then shot forth and embedded into the bodies of the evil men. And then, after a moment of gasp and shock, they fell down to the floor like a trio of bowling pins. Mordred was still silent as he stared down at them. He seemed lost. But then the sound of gasps amidst hushed sobs brought him out of it and he turned... seeing his mother stare while the father held one of the guns, shaking. "What? Father, Mother. I have saved us."

"How did you," the mother said, stammering, "how?? That.. how did.. what did you do?" She then stared, hand trembling as she held a knife close to herself. She then stared as though a new idea struck her. "WHO are you?" The father seemed on edge as well.

"Your son, of course," Mordred spoke sweetly, offering a slight smirk, a smile. "Johnathan Peterson. I'm sorry, but they'd have killed us. Killed my father, and raped you. And then killed you. Maybe made us watch and then kill us. I saved us. Does it really matter how? Maybe it was... God." A foreign concept, as he only remembered hearing of a few Christian influences back home.

"You're not our Johnny," the father said, gritting his teeth. "You're... something else. You are not our son." The mother slowly nodded, wondering what to do about this but the look on their eyes seemed to slowly give them an idea. A bad one. He'd either be banished from the home or killed. Either option wasn't very nice.

"But," Mordred started, starting to protest, then sighed. "Fine. I am not him. So what makes you think you CAN succeed here? I must say, it's really not good manners to not show gratitude to a child who saved both your lives. You saw what I did. Do you really want to end up down there with them? This is nothing. I can do SO much more." He stared, backing up, partly in fear, other part in apprehension. While observing, his mind reached out to Nimue in an attempt to show her where he was and to speak to her mind. [Nimue! Please, help me. I saved my family. In.. you know, our way of doing so. They are not taking it well. Hurry, please!]

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toloveuncharmed
2011-03-02 05:39 pm UTC (link)

Nimue had been making preparations. She'd prepared a second bedroom and furnished it with clothing and other necessities for a boy his age. As she worked, she'd been trying to devise a plan to retrieve Mordred. She was not sure of his relationship with this family, and didn't know how gentle he would want her to be with them. Killing them outright seemed a bit extreme, even for her. Simply taking Mordred would result in them thinking he'd been kidnapped, and starting a manhunt that would be an irritation, at the very least. Merlin would no doubt try to talk sense into them, or stage some sort of deception that left them feeling that they'd done the right thing.

The simplest thing, Nimue decided, would be erasing their memories of the boy. He was not their son; their memories were false to begin with. She didn't share her plan with Merlin, thinking he would likely disapprove of mind-altering magic. Memory wipes were not simple spells, so she planned to slip in and cast the spells while they slept.

Then her planning was interrupted by Mordred's call for help. Teleportation was a great deal easier when she knew just where she was going, and while she had attuned herself to Merlin, teleporting to Mordred took more concentration. It was urgent, though, she knew, so she was there beside him before he even finished his message.

Nimue placed a hand on Mordred's back while her eyes swept over the scene, taking it all in quickly. Dead intruders, frightened parents brandishing weapons. They'd obviously retrieved them from the would-be burglars, and Nimue doubted they knew how to use them. From the way their hands trembled, she was relatively certain they would not use them against Mordred.

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the_druid_boy
2011-03-03 02:57 am UTC (link)

Mordred breathed a sigh of relief as he looked up, sensing the hand of comfort on his shoulder. He could feel the magic from her. He was relieved to finally be in the same room with another magic user, and had now communicated as much telepathically. She was closer to his kind. Nothing like these weak-minded fools that claimed to have loved him. How quickly that had faded. The people however were even further on edge when Nimue had arrived. "What is this," the father yelled, "More freaks to invade our home??"

"No," Mordred said with a firm glare, as if staring deeply into the soul, "we are your betters. You were right, I am not your son. My name is Mordred. Now would be a good time to drop your weapons. Lest you hurt yourselves." They didn't seem to like that, though the moth backed up, holding a knife close to her side. The father was different, waving his gun and alternating between either Nimue and Mordred. Unfortunately, a shot had gone off, bullet shooting out and in Nimue's direction.. though the boy couldn't tell if it had really hit her or merely grazed her arm.

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toloveuncharmed
2011-03-03 04:28 am UTC (link)

Since Nimue had been in the process of preparing Mordred's room, she'd had a child's robe draped over her arm when she appeared in the room. She wrapped it over Mordred's shoulders, hoping he would find some comfort in the familiarity, even as the man screamed at them.

She took a step toward the mother when she backed up. Clearly the situation had escalated, and Nimue would have to be quick. Stilling the knife, she placed a hand on the woman's head and recited the memory spell. Her eyes flashed. The mother's eyes rolled back while the magic worked.

Before Nimue could finish, however, she was shot in the arm. She cried out and broke contact with the woman, who collapsed as soon as Nimue let go. Nimue turned to face the man who'd shot her. Hate in her eyes, she extended a hand and said a few more words. Ice shot from her hand and quickly encased him in a crystalline shell.

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the_druid_boy
2011-03-05 02:06 am UTC (link)

Mordred slowly nodded as the robe was placed on him. This. Now, this was more his style. Not the odd shirt fabrics and styles, and annoying collars. He preferred the old ways. And the robe reminded him of the green cloak that he had already owned, which he now picked up from the corner. He smiled a little when he saw Nimue effecting her memory-altering magic on the mother. That was a good tactic to clean this mess. Better than neither parent remembered him, nor remembered their real son whom he had replaced upon arrival.

But then the man, that fool! He had the audacity to shoot at Nimue. She was not his real mother either, but he would have far more respect for her than any of these idiots. "You dare to fire upon us, upon her, you insignificant pile of dung," he said with an angry glare, the words a combination of a question and statement. He continued to stare at the man as the ice suddenly rose over him. He had not seen that before but he was fairly sure of the effect. The man would not move until it melted. However.. he still needed oxygen? And the ice prevented that. He'd die of breath loss but unable to move or do anything to relieve the slow pain. Oh, he approved of this. He reached up for Nimue's hand. "He deserved nothing less. The other boys at me would say he had now bee.. umm, the word.. pwned. Or owned. I am ready to go now. But what of the woman? It may be best if she forgets not only me and her true son, but of this entire event."

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toloveuncharmed
2011-03-05 02:41 am UTC (link)

The spells she had been casting were powerful. More powerful than she should have been casting, really. Even two memory spells while the targets were asleep would have been draining. This was exhausting. Her knees threatened to buckle underneath her as she took Mordred's hand. She looked over at the woman on the ground and shook her head. "I do not think she will remember anything." When she was interrupted by the gunshot, Nimue was unable to finish the spell. Broken off the way it was, Nimue suspected the woman would be in a coma. If she awoke, she likely would not have any memories.

Teleportation was a bit more to her nature, though it had become more complicated since she'd been here. The focus stone simplified the process, but was attuned to Merlin. Since Merlin's home was so close to her own, it was nearly as good as teleporting home. She bent down and wrapped an arm around Mordred's shoulders. "Let's go." There was a flash of light before the two of them vanished...

..And appeared in a royal garden, in front of Merlin and Prince Arthur. Nimue's eyes widened when she saw the prince. "Damn." Normally she would hardly feel threatened. But she was charged with protecting Mordred now, and she knew Merlin's desire to keep his true nature a secret. Unfortunately, she couldn't teleport again so quickly. They would have to do this the old fashioned way. "Run," she told the boy, straightening up to do the same.

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the_druid_boy
2011-03-07 12:59 pm UTC (link)

Mordred allowed a small smirk to appear on his face as he glanced down at the mother. He wondered how having the spell interrupted would have affected her. Not that he cared right now. Not anymore. Whatever they case, she deserved all of it. As did the father. Perhaps the man would be dead before the ice melted... he hoped the end would be slow.

As he reached forth to hold her hand, he could not help but feel a sense of familiarity. He had felt the same with Morgana, as well as others. He now trusted Nimue. He felt he could count on her for anything beyond this moment. But then when they appeared.. damn. He remembered Arthur. And those knights. He looked at Nimue and quickly nodded. Running definitely sounded like a good plan. And so he took off, keeping up with her, hoping that they weren't seen. He hoped to find safety soon, with her help. Anything would be alright if it meant he didn't have to worry about dangers again.

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toloveuncharmed
2011-03-07 06:19 pm UTC (link)

Nimue was not entirely sure how she felt about Mordred's reactions to what had happened. Nimue didn't feel remorseful, per se. She had acted in self-defense. But the expression on Mordred's face was troubling. There was not time to deal with moral issues now, though.

As they ran from Arthur, she kept a grip on Mordred's hand, both to keep him with her and to prevent him from getting any ideas about casting spells that might hurt Merlin or Arthur. She tried to ignore the pain in her arm and the throbbing headache she was developing, focusing on running. Luckily they had a head start, since the prince had been surprised. He would soon catch up, though. Nimue couldn't outrun a knight for long on the best of days, and certainly not in this condition.

She could hear Merlin yelling at Arthur to stop. She was glad to hear it, but didn't want Merlin to reveal anything he would regret later. She dove behind some bushes, her arms wrapped around Mordred. Squeezing her eyes shut, she teleported the two of them back to her home. They were now in a rather non-descript living room.

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the_druid_boy
2011-03-13 02:22 am UTC (link)

Mordred had to admit there was a slight bit of satisfaction at seeing how that ended. Well.. no, he would not admit it. But to be fair, they had attacked first. Probably would have killed him if they tried hard enough. Much like the magic-hating people in Uther's time. But as it was now, the young boy was safe and secure with his own kind. Which is the way he thought it was meant to be.

He was nearly worried that Merlin and Arthur would see them. But thankfully it didn't matter as himself and Nimue were transported to yet one more different location. He hoped he could learn and master that gift. His eyes opened as he slowly got up to his feet. They were in a home. And safe. "Thank you," he said in breaths as he looked up to her, grateful to be away from the other people.

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toloveuncharmed
2011-03-13 04:28 am UTC (link)

Nimue reached for the end of the couch and used it to pull herself to her feet. She was short of breath from the running and the magic, but she didn't want to worry Mordred. She ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the couch. "You're welcome, darling. Your room is there," she said, pointing to a half-open door.

Teleporting should not have been so difficult for her. Back home, it was practically her fey nature. She just needed some time to compose herself. She managed to walk to the kitchen. "Would you like some tea, Mordred?"

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