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[gravings]

I will definitely put something here this time

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[gravings]

[ As ever, it's fascinating to see how Mordred's face contorts their shared visage into configurations Gray never could have foreseen. The part of her that flinches at her own face is too bewildered to look away from Mordred's. But eventually, Mordred does the job for her by turning away.

A squire, is it... how quaint. But Gray doesn't hate the idea, and she dutifully tugs her hood a bit lower down. Actually, acting as a faceless follower is Gray's most comfy zone. ]

What would squires usually do for you?

[uproared]

Y'know... normal squire stuff. [ She was one of the few knights who never had one, given her acerbic attitude and need for complete privacy, but she doesn't want Gray to know that. ] Usually, that means you'd be in charge of my armour and weapons... but I don't really need any help with those. Or you could look after my horse...

[ ... if she had one here. Exasperated: ]

Look, it's just a title, alright? One that gives you a good reason for hangin' around me.

[gravings]

[ Sounds a bit sus, but Gray is accepting enough of her own ignorance to take Mordred at face value and not make the outlandish assumption that a Knight of the Round Table never actually had a single squire. ]

Alright.

[ Though she thinks no one will buy that Mordred is a knight without her armor. ]

Are you still going by "Saber"?

[uproared]

[ She snorts. ]

Gonna tell all your Meridian friends who I really am?

[gravings]

... I just wanted to know how I should address you as your squire...

[ She's trying to get IC over here... ]

[uproared]

[ Oh.





.............................. ]

W-well... if you're my squire, it'd have to be "Sir Mordred", right? I'm pretty sure that's how it works.

[gravings]

"Pretty sure?"

[ Even Gray is starting to have suspicions at this point............. ]

[uproared]

D... definitely sure! I said definitely sure! Listen more closely next time!

[gravings]

... Sorry.

[ She dips her head a little even though she's sure she heard correctly. Maybe this is too awkward a subject (for some reason), so Gray decides to move on to something she wished she'd asked Mordred after she disappeared. ]

Can I ask you something?

[uproared]

[ If Gray hears Mordred let out a tiny sigh of relief... no she doesn't. ]

Go ahead. No promises you'll like the answer, though.

[gravings]

[ Gray is prepared for Mordred's every utterance to be a little confusing, contradictory, or belittling, so Mordred's warning goes without saying. ]

Did you know Sir Kay very well?

[uproared]

Huh?

[ Her tone immediately grows irritated. ]

You mean "Sir knows-everything-except-when-to-shut-the-hell-up"? The guy whose compliments sound like insults, and whose insults sound like compliments? Why the hell would you be interested in him?

[gravings]

[ As colorful as that description is, it does sound accurate. Mordred's incredulity puts Gray in a fluster, and she scrambles for an answer that isn't a lie but doesn't give away too much either. ]

Ah, well, he was like a guardian figure of sorts in the village cemetery, so I was always curious to know more about him...

[ How he was in life rather than how he is as a pseudo-personality or jumbled up spirit. ]

[uproared]

Jeez. Between that and my old lady, it's like your village is tryin' to piss me off.

[ Though, Mordred would probably be annoyed about the involvement of any of the Knights of the Round, so that's really not saying much. She raises an eyebrow at what seems like an overly reactive response from Gray, but chalks it up to her own attitude, and not anything suspicious. ]

He was father's first knight, but he wasn't even with his king at the end. I doubt he could have stopped me, anyway, but does that sound like a guardian to you? [ That's not what Gray's asking; she just has some residual bitterness to get out. No, being literally fucking dead isn't an excuse. ] Kay was a complete ass. His skill with a sword was a joke, but he was so freakin' annoying that his enemies would rather kill themselves than listen to him. I suppose he was at least competent enough as a seneschal, even if the role made him arrogant beyond belief... or perhaps that's just the way he was from the start. I don't really know, nor do I care.

[gravings]

[ A part of her wants to protest that Kay was with his king long after the end, in service to this day even if the conditions have become abstract. Even though Gray didn't know the man when he was alive, she still feels that she owes a lot to him.

... With that said, Mordred's description sounds awfully familiar. An annoying, arrogant ass? All of those things survived the distillation process that created Add. Despite herself, a fond, relieved smile floats to Gray's face. It's good to know that even if Add is a pesudo-personality, he retains a truth of the self he derived from. It never mattered to her whether or not Add had "meaning," but she's happy to get to know more about the man who's something like his father. ]

Thank you. That's all I wanted to know.

GRAYS BORTHDAY

[salvageable]

[ This isn't very characteristic of him, he'll admit, but circumstances have found him carefully placing an entire cake in the center of his dining table. He takes a step back to look at his store-bought handiwork for a moment, thoughts drifting to the way Eustace had confided and spoken to him about this specific birthday in particular before aggressively shaking the thought from his head. This is supposed to be a happy occasion, and after a week spent holed up in his room and depression napping, he figures enough is enough.

It's not like he's especially close with Gray, but she's been living here now and they've both been dealt a significant loss. A birthday celebration might just be the thing they both need, even if he has no idea how many candles to stick on her cake and just ended up placing five of them for some reason. She is clearly older than five.

Anyway, he turns and makes his way to the bedroom she's occupying, Raisin sticking close to his heels and drooling the entire way there. Once at her door, Dokja knocks a couple of times to announce his presence. ]

Gray? Could you come out here for a moment?

tree of life ; around gray's birthday

[epiprocta]

[ It's not like he actually expects to find Eustace here, at the Tree of Life. Things are never that easy or neat, and he's sure that if the solution were so simple, then someone else would have gotten there first -- it'd be a sorry fucking state of affairs if he were the one to figure this out.

But still. He has to check. Just in case.

It's with that thought in mind that one afternoon finds Gen slinking around the Tree of Life, keeping an eye out for any sign of movement or anything that seems off. -- which he sure finds, though not in the form he was hoping for. ]

... Gray? [ It takes him a moment of squinting to confirm it's her. Which feels ridiculous, since he's well-accustomed to what she looks like, her silhouette, her posture? But something feels off. Gen gives a cant of the head as he looks her over once more before approaching. ] What're you doing here.

[gravings]

[ Gray has been doing a bit of depression napping herself, broken up only by depression cleaning, depression animal care, and depression killing-monsters-in-Alenroux. So actually she's still been a bit busy. Still, it's been easy to lose track of time, which is why she's completely unsuspecting when Dokja knocks on her door.

He doesn't ask much of her (if at all), so she blinks and moves promptly to answer the door once she's made sure her hood is secure. She peers up at Dokja with a hint of confusion. ]

Mr. Dokja?

[gravings]

[ He'll find Gray sitting in the dirt, clumps of it still stuck to her clothing. A dull ache sits on her drawn expression, and for a moment it seems like she doesn't hear him. A couple clear streaks cut through the dirt down her cheeks — and though her gray hair is dusted brown, a small, barely-there streak of blonde peeks from the hang of her hood.

Gray's shoulders hiccup quietly for a couple seconds longer before she slowly wipes her face with the back of her wrist. She sniffs before moving to stand, dirt raining from her cloak in chunks. Her voice is a bit hoarse from misuse, like she's just woken up (because she has). ]

... I don't know. I came here without realizing it... I saw some things from my world... and then I woke up in the dirt.

[ She should probably be a little more discombobulated, but it isn't so different from being possessed. The loss of time, the sudden waterfall of emotions. Processing it all comes later; for now it sits tight and compressed in her heart. She finally turns to look at Gen, trying but failing to keep a distant hurt from hooding her gaze. ]

Why are you here?

[salvageable]

[ Have a single, awkward wave as soon as Gray opens the door. Dokja's out of his element here, and it clearly shows by the hesitant smile on his face. He's never held a birthday celebration for anyone who wasn't fictional, so this is new territory for him.

At least Raisin does a better job of greeting Gray, his tail wagging hard enough to thump itself against the hallway wall. ]

Sorry for bothering you. I just... needed help with something in the dining room.

[ Very smooth, Dokja. ]

[gravings]

[ Gray isn't one to knock anyone else for seeming awkward, but she can't help thinking that Dokja's behavior hints at her being ambushed and kidnapped within the next ten seconds. ]

Oh... alright. Did you need something moved?

[ In her mind, her magical muscle is the only thing of use to him. Either way, she looks to him expectantly to lead the way. But not before giving Raisin and obliging pat on the saggy head. ]

[salvageable]

[ Honestly, he wouldn't mind if someone ambushed and kidnapped him just to get him out of this predicament. "Predicament"... It's literally a birthday, Dokja.

But now that Gray's fallen for the bait, the rest should be smooth sailing. Raisin gives an enthusiastic and very wet-nosed boop against Gray's hand at the same time as Dokja turning back toward the dining room. ]

I can move things by myself, you know.

[ He says this jokingly as he leads the way, and because it's not a very long hallway, it takes no time for them to reach the dining room, where the plain white cake with its pink frosting spelling out "Happy Birthday Gray" sits neatly on the table. The (five) candles stuck in the cake haven't been lit yet, and there's a small gift bag off to the side. ]

june tdm, action

[lockedon]

[ Sometimes you vanish from a place without realizing it, and sometimes you return to that very same place weeks later (also without realizing it).

Maybe if he'd been a chattier person things might have clicked into place sooner, but he's always preferred to keep to himself and avoid crowds, so the lack of acknowledgement as he walks down the residential streets goes unnoticed. His steps are, as always, purposeful, leading him down the street and towards the houses at the end, though a good number of the residential buildings there have been since destroyed, walls and foundations cracked through by the onset of the Blight. None of it stops him from picking his way through the debris, pace slowing as he walks through what used to be his house. Now it's just a shell of what it used to be.

A little like him, his form now reduced to a see-through afterimage. Hopefully no one in the area is afraid of ghosts. ]

[epiprocta]

[ Ah, right. The moment she turns her head and he spots a wildly-tangled and disheveled lock of hair past the shape of her hood is the moment he realizes what feels so off about her -- she's not put together at all in this moment. And Gray's never this disheveled unless something's happened. ]

... nothin'. Just came here 'cause I needed some fresh air.

[ He's always been a decent liar when it matters, and Gen doesn't bat an eye as he drones out that utter falsehood. It doesn't feel like it matters at the moment, anyway. Eustace is gone, and that probably won't change; what matters more right now is figuring out exactly what's happened to Gray.

Dirt grits underfoot as Gen quickly slinks closer, reflexively casting about nervously in case anyone else is around. For better or for worse, it seems to be just the two of them, and he exhales hoarsely as he finally steps right up to where Gray's sitting and crouches down next to her.

Though he says nothing at first, there's concern etched clear in the furrow of his brow when he cants his head to get a better look at her face; those pointy canine ears of his are gently tilted back. ]

What the hell did you see? [ And ... it was just visions, right? It's not she actually had to experience anything stressful, right? ]

[gravings]

[ She comes to a sudden stop when she sees the cake, the words on it jumping out at her like a highway robber. Her brain stutters; she peeks left and right as if there might be someone else in the house who could have arranged this for her. Slow Dancer, maybe.

But no, Dokja is definitely the only other person in the vicinity. A lump wells up in her throat without apparent reason, and she looks perhaps alarmingly more devastated than delighted. ]

Mr. Dokja... what is this?

[ As if she can't read the cake perfectly well on her own. ]