bitchprince (
bitchprince) wrote2010-08-11 10:48 am
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Woods Surrounding Camelot, Wednesday Morning
After the feasts of a few weeks back, Arthur had fallen into the routine he preferred above all. Training, training, and more training, interspersed with some talks about minor adjustments in grain dispersion and the occasional audience for the public, as well as the odd hunt.
But he was hunting for something else today; he was hunting for contact with Fandom, or rather, his friends both on and off it.
As it turned out, having his old routine back made his thoughts about the island far kinder than they used to be.
[[ for phone calls, yes! ]]
But he was hunting for something else today; he was hunting for contact with Fandom, or rather, his friends both on and off it.
As it turned out, having his old routine back made his thoughts about the island far kinder than they used to be.
[[ for phone calls, yes! ]]
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"Hardly," he said. "Beyond the odd band of bandits, it's been quiet." And if this had been any other kind of genre world, he would have added 'too quiet'.
Well, all right. It was totally that kind of genre world; usually it would just be Merlin stating the obvious. "Had a few good hunts, doubt you're interested. Where were you last week?"
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. . . she could have interjected with the 'too quiet,' but she felt that would be redundant.
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Worrywart.
And she could have, but would she have managed to attain the level of big eyes, fearful wobbly lip, and 'Could we please just go over the mountains?' that Merlin would bring to the role?
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"In the dorms," Katchoo confirmed. "Warded, but not barricaded, for all the hell of a lot of good that would've done with crap just blinking out of existence."
Awkward, loaded silence for a moment.
"Francine had a pretty shitty time of it. She got sucked into one of those other worlds." That crack in Katchoo's voice? Might as well have been a neon sign advertising how badly she'd taken that.
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That little 'ah' was... well, it was the usual level of signage on Arthur's part when he was threading on emotional ground that he didn't come especially equipped for. Nevermind the little wave of worry that came up, then dispersed quickly afterwards, settling uncomfortably on his gut.
"How was she? When she returned."
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"You're getting off that island as soon as you can."
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She also knew it was about the only way he could feel useful from a distance.
"Our deadline for having to leave is creepin' up pretty fast anyhow."
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As if he wasn't just as aware as she was what could happen in Fandom in that 'no time at all.'
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Uh-huh.