[open] i'm taking back my life tonight
WHO? Mordred/
bloodings & unlucky people (you)
WHAT? Dreamin'
WHEN? During the event, 'til the 23rd
ANYTHING ELSE? contains f/apoc spoilers, violence. prose or backets is cool, i'll match you!
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WHAT? Dreamin'
WHEN? During the event, 'til the 23rd
ANYTHING ELSE? contains f/apoc spoilers, violence. prose or backets is cool, i'll match you!
[ Servants don't dream, but things are different here. It brings her back to when she was alive, never human, but not a spirit; when she could still dream.
Loathsome dreams, dreams that made her wake roaring in anger long after her decision to kill the king was made. Bitter dreams, of toppling her father and taking his crown for herself. Worst of all — dreams of what she wanted from the start. Dreams of her father's hand in her hair and words of praise as his son. (But she's not. She's a filthy, unwanted child, born from his enemy, and he will never recognize her because of it.)
Dreams... ]
a.
[ ... of her training. Of bitterness, seeing children her own age and knowing she would be dead before they even reached adulthood. If she is to die sooner, then she will blaze brighter, and become greater than they will ever be. She will defeat the king and claim the throne. (At least, her mother says she will. In truth, she wants nothing more than to serve him.)
She's still a child, though. So anyone in the dream will be very suddenly pushed over (even an adult; she's freakishly strong) and greeted by a very young face staring back at them, smirking. ]
Heh.
b.
[ ... of Camelot. Of a woman, a man, with the same face as hers, sitting at the round table. The same man the knights call King Arthur. Mordred's own face hidden behind a helmet. It's the day she confronted the king, the day her love turned to hate, the day she was reborn.
Maybe you're there to see her plead with him. It's not a long discussion. Mordred, her face exposed, desperate for acknowledgement as a son, if not as heir; for him to take pride in her. "Even if it cannot be publicly known, you can accept me. As a father, if not as king!". And the king's simple response — "Born from the machinations of my sister you may be, but indeed you are of my blood. Yet I shall not recognize you as my son, nor shall I allow you the throne." — before he turns his back on her.
Either way, when she returns to her chambers her emotions are almost radiating off her. The door opens, and she glances up, still wearing her helmet... but her glare can be felt. ]
What the hell do you want? [ She knows it's a dream, this time. The worst moment of her life, and it's exposed for all to see. ]
c.
[ ... of Camlann. Of waking on the hill after her father's spear pierced her chest, alone, with tens of thousands of dead bodies around her. It's a nightmare, not a memory; she's a literal walking corpse with a lance straight through her body and blood oozing from it with every step.
On a hill of death, it's easy to spot the only other living, moving thing. She blinks in surprise at the figure in front of her. ]
How? [ How are you here, how is she alive... how did it all end this way. One hand rests on the spear in her chest, seemingly unable to pull it out. ]