[ "Inattentive" would have been a blessing compared to the reality. There's a reason Mordred and Agravain turned out the way they did in comparison to their siblings — a more active hand shaped a more awful product. For a second, she wonders how she'd feel if Morgan's manipulation of her turned out to be for some self-sacrificing cause, then has to stop herself from abruptly laughing. No; Morgan le Fay never had a thought for anyone but herself in her entire wretched life. ]
Maybe. [ She agrees, because this is so far out of her area of expertise that she can't even hazard a guess. Worn out from the effort of thinking, she flops down onto her stomach and stretches out; wiggling her fingertips in the air. ] But she's the only one who could answer those questions. You made it sound like she's still alive, so... ever thought about what you'd wanna say to her?
[ She knows that if Zenith win, Gray won't ever have the chance. Even so, she chooses to ignore one what-if in favour of another. ]
[ She's thought about that a lot in fact, but she still doesn't have a concrete answer. Thanks to the totality of the mask her mother wore, Gray feels almost as though she didn't know her mother well — except as someone who loved her daughter, and tried to fight for her in her own desperate way. ]
I think I'd apologize. I'm certain she could see I was afraid of her. It must have hurt her, no matter how sure she was that she was doing the right thing.
[ Despite living with Gray and the other villagers, she must have been lonely in her secrecy as much as Gray was lonely in her isolation. Gray would have liked to take her away to London to show her the good things in the world, the same as Gray's mentor once did for her.
She looks over at Mordred to see her flopped on the ground. Gray hasn't interacted with many children, but Mordred's fidgetiness makes her think of one. ]
How about your mother? If she showed up here someday, would you want to talk to her?
[ Mordred stills instantly at the question, not having anticipated it. In retrospect, she obviously should have, but she'd been so focused on Gray's answer about her mother, vicariously imagining a fantasy in which her own would care so much, that she allowed herself to be caught off guard. ]
... I don't have anything to say to that witch. If she shows up, it'll be Clarent doing the talking.
[ Though Gray might notice that her expression doesn't quite reflect the surety of her claim — it's angry, yes, but her pensiveness betrays something deeper; an emotion not so easily put into words. One thing is for certain: the bad vibes are strong. ]
Besides, what's there to ask? "Why did you hate the king so much?" I already know that. "Why did you curse me with this form?" I know that, too. [ And yet it's clear she's thinking about it. That she's been thinking about it for a long time. ] There's nothing she can say that would satisfy me. Hell, I don't even know if her death would. [ She seems surprised at admitting this. Norangie headbutts her with a tiny mew of concern, but she's too distracted to acknowledge it, and one of her hands curls into a fist. ] Even so, I'd cut her down without a second thought. I know her tricks, so it'd be easy.
[ No it wouldn't. It'd be nothing short of a suicide mission, utterly doomed to failure, but she'd still do it. ]
[ That's a lot to chew on. The common consensus in legend was that Morgan and Mordred plotted together to ruin Arthur, but it seems like Mordred hated Morgan as well. Gray has yet to hear Mordred speak positively of anyone from her time...
Gray at least knows what she'd ask Morgan: "Why did you go so far to try to revive the king?" The answer would be obvious for anyone other than Morgan; most would understand that the return of a legendary king would be glorious to his people. But most people aren't Morgan, who devised the fall of that very same king. Morgan's answer would ultimately make no difference to Gray, who fundamentally needs to reject Arthur's existence to preserve her own, but perhaps it would give meaning to the generations of villagers who preceded her.
Gray is slightly skeptical about Mordred being able to cut Morgan down with ease, not matter how strong Mordred is, but she notes the enthusiasm. ]
If the time ever comes, you should let me help you. Masters and Servants... are supposed to be stronger when they fight together, right?
[ In theory?? As Gray isn't a mage, she isn't sure if her only purpose would be to serve as a battery. ]
[ It's a valid question, and one that a part of Mordred, against her better judgment, would be interested in hearing answered. The (main) problem is that she doesn't trust Morgan to give either of them a straight answer; and, perhaps more pressingly, doesn't trust herself to not get enraged at said answer, no matter what it is. Morgan's rare truths have a habit of hurting more than the ignorance they replace. ]
You don't know the kind of shit she's capable of, mouse. People's bodies, their souls, they're all nothing to her. Just playthings compared to her obsession. [ When Mordred calls someone obsessed, you know it's bad. ] If usin' you could get her even half a step closer, she won't hesitate.
[ There's nothing more she can do to destroy Mordred's life. There's a lot more she can still do to destroy Gray's. ]
I know you have just as much right to confront her as I do. But I won't... I mean, you can't give her the chance to finish what your village started. You're different from me, in a good way.
[ A big admittance, for someone as surface level arrogant as Mordred. She'll call Gray many things: weak, pathetic, annoying, troublesome; but in the end, she's the one who needs to live on. Someone who builds, instead of just destroying. Someone with people who want her. Someone who deserves to be wanted. ]
[ While she'd like to ask Morgan a few things, existential questions wouldn't be as important to Gray as ensuring Mordred's victory. It might be overly sentimental of Gray to put more value in the life of a spirit over the real answers Morgan could potentially provide — but in a more logical sense, Morgan's answers might not mean anything, and Mordred would be Gray's best bet at survival in the long term.
With a thumb she rubs absently at the command seals burned into the back of her hand, turning thoughts over in her head. There's a number of things she'd like to say, but she's never been in the habit of letting her thoughts stampede straight to her mouth. ]
You said before that you wanted a bold Master who would do anything to win. How can I do that if you won't let me fight with you when it matters?
... Ha! Yeah, I did say somethin' like that, didn't I? [ Less "like that" and more "exactly that", but details. ] You know, it's rude to use people's words against them. You've been hangin' around too many bad influences.
[ Despite her jocular tone, she's clearly taken Gray's (well, her own) words to heart. She rolls onto her back and grins at her, holding up her fist. ]
We'll do it together, then. Just remember to follow my orders like a good squire... no, like a good Master should. [ hm ]
Mordred's use of the capital-M word is unexpected, and feels a bit wrong in that Gray thinks no one should be calling her that even if it's a Term... but as with all things Mordred, she has to look at the sentiment rather than the execution. With a small smile, she leans to gently bump Mordred's fist. ]
[ Mordred sits up so suddenly that Norangie scatters in fright, her jovial expression replaced by a scowl. ]
You heard it too, right? Where are you hiding, you bastard? [ She sticks a hand under the couch and starts furiously sweeping it from side to side, as if a whole-ass knight could possibly fit in the tiny space. ]
[ Gray sighs quietly. She knew they'd have to meet properly sooner or later, but there's no way this won't be a handful of an encounter. ]
I have him here.
[ She unhooks Add's cage, withdraws it from the depths of her cloak, and sets it carefully on the coffee table in front of them. It's her way of telling him, "You're on your own."
Add hops around to face Gray, a splash of alarm on his fragmented face. ]
Oi, Gray! You're just gonna abandon me like this?!
[ She looks at Gray in confusion, and at the cage she draws out with even more skepticism. Only when Add finally, foolishly speaks up does Mordred narrow her eyes and turn her attention fully onto him. ]
I knew it! Kay, you lout! I'd recognize that obnoxious voice anywhere! [ It's the sort of thing one might say about an old friend... but there isn't any trace of fondness in her voice. Instead: ] Hey, is it okay if I kill him? It is? Cool.
[ REACHING FOR THE CAGE, though she's only going to furiously rattle him around if she gets ahold of it. At this point, Gray can probably tell the difference between her "killing intent", and her Killing Intent, even if one can swiftly turn into the other. ]
[ Gray abandons Add to this fate. He's nigh indestructible anyway, and it really is his own fault for speaking up. Thus she watches as Add gets rung like a cowbell, his wailing voice punctuated by the violent rattling of his cage. Maybe it's best to let Mordred get this out of her system. ]
His name is Add. His personality is based on Sir Kay, but it isn't actually him. Mostly.
[ There's the small matter of Add being able to project Kay's spirit, but hopefully it'll never come to that again. ]
Add isn't as... eloquent as Sir Kay, but he does say a bit too much sometimes. Sorry about that.
Well... he and I have been together for twelve years, so I'd be cheating on him with you.
[ Not that any kind of cheating is going on here, but maybe putting it that way will placate Mordred.
Add's little eyes swirl around dizzily, and despite being a metal cube, he somehow manages to emulate a sick slump. He groans, but otherwise doesn't try to speak up. Say one thing for Add, he learns when to shut up. Even though he should absolutely be ripping into Mordred for the "subtract" bit. ]
"Add" comes from Rhongomyniad. He's the weapon I've been using this whole time.
[ It figures that Mordred would understand right away. ]
But I don't really think of him as the lance. I think of him as a childhood friend.
[ Add side-eyes Mordred, his already pointy features taking on a tinge of prickly irritation. If Mordred doesn't withdraw her finger immediately, he'll suddenly turn and give it a metallic chomp. ]
[ Just as Add deserved his rattling, Mordred deserved that chomp. Add and Mordred deserve each other, actually. ]
I mean childhood friend.
[ Even though she. keeps him in a birdcage. Which she finally picks up, settling it (and Add) on her lap before Mordred can really feel that temptation to hammer it. Add hops around to give Mordred a disgruntled look, but blessedly he knows not to push his luck. ]
I won't ask you both to get along [because that's hopeless] but it would be easier on me if you could at least try not to fight. I'm sure there were times you and Sir Kay managed to work together.
[ Mordred continues to glare at Add after he's removed from the danger zone, making it very clear how she feels about the situation. (She's also sitting cross-legged and cross-armed on the floor while she does, which really adds to the 'scolded child' look.) ]
Guess that's the real reason you asked me about him. If you were going to pick a Round Table knight to be a fan of, there are way cooler ones. [ Her. She's talking about herself. ]
[ Don't tell her Mordred is jealous... Gray looks at her in all her pouty glory. She isn't really clear on this, but as a Master, should it be her job to appease her Servant's insecurities no matter what? ]
I was also grateful to him because he responded when I needed to release the Restraints of the Round Table on the lance...
[ Narrator voice: Mordred did not respond when Gray needed to release the Restraints of the Round Table. Oblingingly, she continues. ]
I think you're cool too.
[ Granted, she thinks all of the knights are cool until proven otherwise. ]
[ No matter how much Gray appreciates Mordred, she isn't excitable enough to jump up and start showering her with fanatic praise out of nowhere. Nor is Gray willing to forsake Kay or Add, whom she owes so much to. So Mordred will just have to get the pout out of her system. One of the cats pads around to peek at Mordred, perhaps curious about the sudden about-face.
But Gray is curious about something, now that Mordred mentions it. ]
What's your requirement? Only five knights answered, so I don't know the rest.
[ Having invoked the Seals Thirteen only once, she doesn't even know if five knights answering is a lot or a little. Maybe a little, since it wasn't even half. ]
[ Then she'll continue being unreasonably sore about it. The cat at least helps, if only to give her an excuse to not turn around. ]
It was somethin' like... "the battle must be one against evil". [ More "exactly like", but maybe this way Gray won't question why the worst knight apparently has standards. ] Obviously, whatever fight you went and picked didn't quality.
[ It's a surprisingly idealistic condition next to Kay's, which was that "the battle must be one for survival." Did Mordred place so much weight on morality? Maybe it was something that used to matter to her, before she trod the path of treachery. Gray thinks about asking her, but she also thinks that the answer might unfold naturally as she continues to see more of Mordred's memories.
More importantly, Gray thinks that maybe she should try to address Mordred's unhappiness after all. There's a brief silence as she considers what the root of the issue might be. ]
I would still choose you as a Servant over Sir Kay.
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Maybe. [ She agrees, because this is so far out of her area of expertise that she can't even hazard a guess. Worn out from the effort of thinking, she flops down onto her stomach and stretches out; wiggling her fingertips in the air. ] But she's the only one who could answer those questions. You made it sound like she's still alive, so... ever thought about what you'd wanna say to her?
[ She knows that if Zenith win, Gray won't ever have the chance. Even so, she chooses to ignore one what-if in favour of another. ]
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I think I'd apologize. I'm certain she could see I was afraid of her. It must have hurt her, no matter how sure she was that she was doing the right thing.
[ Despite living with Gray and the other villagers, she must have been lonely in her secrecy as much as Gray was lonely in her isolation. Gray would have liked to take her away to London to show her the good things in the world, the same as Gray's mentor once did for her.
She looks over at Mordred to see her flopped on the ground. Gray hasn't interacted with many children, but Mordred's fidgetiness makes her think of one. ]
How about your mother? If she showed up here someday, would you want to talk to her?
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... I don't have anything to say to that witch. If she shows up, it'll be Clarent doing the talking.
[ Though Gray might notice that her expression doesn't quite reflect the surety of her claim — it's angry, yes, but her pensiveness betrays something deeper; an emotion not so easily put into words. One thing is for certain: the bad vibes are strong. ]
Besides, what's there to ask? "Why did you hate the king so much?" I already know that. "Why did you curse me with this form?" I know that, too. [ And yet it's clear she's thinking about it. That she's been thinking about it for a long time. ] There's nothing she can say that would satisfy me. Hell, I don't even know if her death would. [ She seems surprised at admitting this. Norangie headbutts her with a tiny mew of concern, but she's too distracted to acknowledge it, and one of her hands curls into a fist. ] Even so, I'd cut her down without a second thought. I know her tricks, so it'd be easy.
[ No it wouldn't. It'd be nothing short of a suicide mission, utterly doomed to failure, but she'd still do it. ]
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Gray at least knows what she'd ask Morgan: "Why did you go so far to try to revive the king?" The answer would be obvious for anyone other than Morgan; most would understand that the return of a legendary king would be glorious to his people. But most people aren't Morgan, who devised the fall of that very same king. Morgan's answer would ultimately make no difference to Gray, who fundamentally needs to reject Arthur's existence to preserve her own, but perhaps it would give meaning to the generations of villagers who preceded her.
Gray is slightly skeptical about Mordred being able to cut Morgan down with ease, not matter how strong Mordred is, but she notes the enthusiasm. ]
If the time ever comes, you should let me help you. Masters and Servants... are supposed to be stronger when they fight together, right?
[ In theory?? As Gray isn't a mage, she isn't sure if her only purpose would be to serve as a battery. ]
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You don't know the kind of shit she's capable of, mouse. People's bodies, their souls, they're all nothing to her. Just playthings compared to her obsession. [ When Mordred calls someone obsessed, you know it's bad. ] If usin' you could get her even half a step closer, she won't hesitate.
[ There's nothing more she can do to destroy Mordred's life. There's a lot more she can still do to destroy Gray's. ]
I know you have just as much right to confront her as I do. But I won't... I mean, you can't give her the chance to finish what your village started. You're different from me, in a good way.
[ A big admittance, for someone as surface level arrogant as Mordred. She'll call Gray many things: weak, pathetic, annoying, troublesome; but in the end, she's the one who needs to live on. Someone who builds, instead of just destroying. Someone with people who want her. Someone who deserves to be wanted. ]
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With a thumb she rubs absently at the command seals burned into the back of her hand, turning thoughts over in her head. There's a number of things she'd like to say, but she's never been in the habit of letting her thoughts stampede straight to her mouth. ]
You said before that you wanted a bold Master who would do anything to win. How can I do that if you won't let me fight with you when it matters?
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[ Despite her jocular tone, she's clearly taken Gray's (well, her own) words to heart. She rolls onto her back and grins at her, holding up her fist. ]
We'll do it together, then. Just remember to follow my orders like a good squire... no, like a good Master should. [ hm ]
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Mordred's use of the capital-M word is unexpected, and feels a bit wrong in that Gray thinks no one should be calling her that even if it's a Term... but as with all things Mordred, she has to look at the sentiment rather than the execution. With a small smile, she leans to gently bump Mordred's fist. ]
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Ihihihi! Master, huh?! I've been with this idiot a lot longer, so you'd better have a good name lined up for me too!
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[ Mordred sits up so suddenly that Norangie scatters in fright, her jovial expression replaced by a scowl. ]
You heard it too, right? Where are you hiding, you bastard? [ She sticks a hand under the couch and starts furiously sweeping it from side to side, as if a whole-ass knight could possibly fit in the tiny space. ]
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I have him here.
[ She unhooks Add's cage, withdraws it from the depths of her cloak, and sets it carefully on the coffee table in front of them. It's her way of telling him, "You're on your own."
Add hops around to face Gray, a splash of alarm on his fragmented face. ]
Oi, Gray! You're just gonna abandon me like this?!
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I knew it! Kay, you lout! I'd recognize that obnoxious voice anywhere! [ It's the sort of thing one might say about an old friend... but there isn't any trace of fondness in her voice. Instead: ] Hey, is it okay if I kill him? It is? Cool.
[ REACHING FOR THE CAGE, though she's only going to furiously rattle him around if she gets ahold of it. At this point, Gray can probably tell the difference between her "killing intent", and her Killing Intent, even if one can swiftly turn into the other. ]
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His name is Add. His personality is based on Sir Kay, but it isn't actually him. Mostly.
[ There's the small matter of Add being able to project Kay's spirit, but hopefully it'll never come to that again. ]
Add isn't as... eloquent as Sir Kay, but he does say a bit too much sometimes. Sorry about that.
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[ Said while still ringing that
bellbox, though she eventually stops in favour of holding him up to her face to better glare at. ]So, what? You've been cheatin' on me with another Round Table idiot this whole time? Exactly which one of us is the traitor here?
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[ Not that any kind of cheating is going on here, but maybe putting it that way will placate Mordred.
Add's little eyes swirl around dizzily, and despite being a metal cube, he somehow manages to emulate a sick slump. He groans, but otherwise doesn't try to speak up. Say one thing for Add, he learns when to shut up. Even though he should absolutely be ripping into Mordred for the "subtract" bit. ]
"Add" comes from Rhongomyniad. He's the weapon I've been using this whole time.
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[ When Gray says the Rhongo-word, she scowls again, and pokes at Add like it's his fault. ]
... You really are shameless, bringin' that lance out in front of me again. Lemme guess — he's some sort of seal?
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[ It figures that Mordred would understand right away. ]
But I don't really think of him as the lance. I think of him as a childhood friend.
[ Add side-eyes Mordred, his already pointy features taking on a tinge of prickly irritation. If Mordred doesn't withdraw her finger immediately, he'll suddenly turn and give it a metallic chomp. ]
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[ Karma is real, because midway through the word "pet" is when Add chomps down on her finger, and Mordred pulls her hand back with a yelp. ]
All right, I really am going to kill him this time. Is there a hammer around here?
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I mean childhood friend.
[ Even though she. keeps him in a birdcage. Which she finally picks up, settling it (and Add) on her lap before Mordred can really feel that temptation to hammer it. Add hops around to give Mordred a disgruntled look, but blessedly he knows not to push his luck. ]
I won't ask you both to get along [because that's hopeless] but it would be easier on me if you could at least try not to fight. I'm sure there were times you and Sir Kay managed to work together.
[ Even though this isn't Sir Kay. ]
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[ Mordred continues to glare at Add after he's removed from the danger zone, making it very clear how she feels about the situation. (She's also sitting cross-legged and cross-armed on the floor while she does, which really adds to the 'scolded child' look.) ]
Guess that's the real reason you asked me about him. If you were going to pick a Round Table knight to be a fan of, there are way cooler ones. [ Her. She's talking about herself. ]
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I was also grateful to him because he responded when I needed to release the Restraints of the Round Table on the lance...
[ Narrator voice: Mordred did not respond when Gray needed to release the Restraints of the Round Table. Oblingingly, she continues. ]
I think you're cool too.
[ Granted, she thinks all of the knights are cool until proven otherwise. ]
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[ Still!! Grumpy!! She literally turns away from Gray to hide her pout, which does approximately nothing to help her.
Muttered: ] Stupid freakin' lance... stupid freakin' seals... why the hell's he getting all the credit? Mine's totally reasonable!
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But Gray is curious about something, now that Mordred mentions it. ]
What's your requirement? Only five knights answered, so I don't know the rest.
[ Having invoked the Seals Thirteen only once, she doesn't even know if five knights answering is a lot or a little. Maybe a little, since it wasn't even half. ]
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It was somethin' like... "the battle must be one against evil". [ More "exactly like", but maybe this way Gray won't question why the worst knight apparently has standards. ] Obviously, whatever fight you went and picked didn't quality.
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[ It's a surprisingly idealistic condition next to Kay's, which was that "the battle must be one for survival." Did Mordred place so much weight on morality? Maybe it was something that used to matter to her, before she trod the path of treachery. Gray thinks about asking her, but she also thinks that the answer might unfold naturally as she continues to see more of Mordred's memories.
More importantly, Gray thinks that maybe she should try to address Mordred's unhappiness after all. There's a brief silence as she considers what the root of the issue might be. ]
I would still choose you as a Servant over Sir Kay.
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