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 Posted: Thu May 28, 2015 8:51 pm
ANYONE WHO HAS THE SIDHE QUEEN'S MARK: +10 blue door points. You feel the intense hatred she has for Merlin. This is her last parting gift to you.
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IF YOU FOUGHT PERCIVAL: +5 black door points. A memory unlocks. You feel Percival's despair as he fights you, and it is overlapped with another memory. You have seen Percival before, and you fought against him as he pinned you down and trapped you. It is a weapon memory.
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IF YOU FOUGHT GAWAIN: +5 blue door points. A memory unlocks. You realize you have met Gawain before. He helped save those sick in your village in the past. It is a past knight memory.
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IF YOU FOUGHT MORDRED: +5 black or blue door points (your choice). Your memories are jumbled related to Mordred. He appears to be both kind and terrible. You remember he was never on your side.
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IF YOU NOMINATED YOURSELF TO LANCELOT FOR GREAT KNIGHT: +5 blue door points. A memory unlocks. You have met Lancelot before. He is the one that inspired you to become a knight. This is a past knight memory.
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IF YOU WERE IN THE PRISON: +5 black door points. A memory unlocks. You realize you have been chained before. You feel pain, fear, and then nothing as your body twists into a weapon and you are sealed. This is a weapon memory.
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IF YOU WERE IN THE TOWER ORP. +5 blue door points. A memory unlocks. You remember that you once came across an enchanted artifact. It contained a flash of your future. You saw a future where you would die. This is a knight memory (make up a random death).
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IF YOU ARE A BLUE/GOLD/WHITE KNIGHT: +5 blue door points. A memory unlocks. You remember what brought you to Camelot in the first place. It was the collapse of everything around you. It was the despair that drove you forward and gave you determination. This is a knight memory.
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IF YOU HAVE FIVE OR MORE SACRED CARDS: +5 blue door points. Your loyalty to serve burns strong. A memory unlocks. You remember training to one day become a knight. This is a knight memory.
40/10 blue
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Posted: Thu May 28, 2015 10:07 pm
It burns. It's rejection and what could-have-been and betrayal. "This is a gift," she breathes and Hollandaise believes her.
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Percival leans against Bardiche, the weight of his knee on Bardiche's windpipe causing spots to dance across his vision. There is despair here, and string hands that tear at Percival's clothes until it's too late. He can't breathe and then there is only darkness.
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He came to save the sick. Hollandaise begs, tiny hands twisting in her dress, cheeks stained with tear tracks. But it;s too late - her family was first and their house has already been put to torch. "There is no one left to save, little one." And his voice is not unkind, but weary and she swallows down her tears.
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He turns and twists and a kind of ennui lives on the corners of his lips. Try and still not see the heart of him. She shivers and wraps her arms around herself.
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She is older and knows better than to dream - but Hollandaise still does. In the spaces between work, she idly wonders that, if she married Chaya, would she have a family again? A week ago, a man had come, armor gleaming. He spoke of belonging, of purpose, of finding and knowing one's place. She wants it so badly her teeth ache.
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Bardiche howls, strong voice reverberating off of the walls. Everything is too small, too closed in, and he remembers stalking through forests at night, running in open fields and he take a deep breath. The chain wrap and wrap around him like a snake, compressing him into what they want. Bardiche howls again, hoping his voice will break the too-small chains, the too-small walls. And now he, he is small, too.
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And this, she thinks, is alright. He places his hand on her cheek and she murmurs that it's dirty. Why does Chaya look so sad? This was her place as a knight, to give her life, to fall, a hole pierced in her side by shadows.
"Was I brave?" She asks. With a short gasp, Hollandaise tears her gaze away from the calm surface of the basin.
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She remembers, oh, she remembers. Blood slicked the floor as they walked together through the wreckage. He had shielded her, even though he must be hurting himself, and she laces her fingers into his.
"I don't understand," she says and neither does he but Hollandaise still repeats the question until her throat is raw.
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Hollandaise would make a place for herself. She shot her arrow fast and true, centering the target. A small noise of delight escapes her lips, and she thinks that maybe this can be what she is good at, her calling.
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Posted: Fri May 29, 2015 12:17 pm
There had never been any challenge. Hollandaise was a knight; she could be no less, hold no other greater than the Great King. Shame shivered along her skin at how she'd been tempted by Merlin, but his rejection of her (she was too weak, after all, too unwanted) stung more. Her hands clenched; Bardiche was a heavy weight on her hip. Hollandaise was a knight, she knew her place... right? It was a not a question of the blue door or the black, but a matter of opening, or daring to go through or to stay, stuck in limbo. She took a deep breath. Lightly, she rested her fingers on the blue door. She would be a knight, bound by rules of chivalry. She would succeed because there was no other way - for herself, for others. Hollandaise would atone.
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