wonderlandalli

King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable

Tristan rested her hand on the pommel of The Siren hanging at her hip. The long blade had been crafted as a gift by her father's blacksmith for when she returned from her stay in France. It was as if the man knew Lady Moeya's attempts at making a proper lady of her were doomed from the start. It was a beautiful sword, with a rippling blade like ocean waves that sang through the air as it was swung, as a siren lures men to their death by song. The pommel was etched with an illustration of a mermaid in the water looking out at the island of Lyonesse, the castle clearly depicted, and a shimmering aquamarine was set at the end of the pommel. The long sword was narrow and its undulating shape lent a curious reverberation, as each undulation created a new point of impact, into the sword of her opponents making it harder to hold onto their weapon for the moment of parry, and often causing them to step back and falter. At the blade's base, her name had been inscribed as 'Tristan de Lyonesse' in flowing script. She wore it in a leather scabbard at her belt which had been decorated in tapestry depicting more blue waves.

While her body language was relaxed, she listened to The Giant regard her king and would be ready should he breach the truce of the tournament. Couldn't these boars just let her eat her supper peacefully at last? It seemed men were underfoot no matter where she walked today.

King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable

She was a little flummoxed for a moment, being addressed by The Giant himself. She wondered if he'd know her from the battlefield. Tristan had been across the field from him once before. They'd not come to blows, but she'd taken down many of his soldiers. He'd returned the favor. Her tension rose as Mordred drunkenly called out to The Giant. Gawain, that's right... She calmed as Mordred continued more amiably than he'd first appeared then directed his attention to her.

Am I that forgettable? Tristan thought. Oh well. She rose at being addressed and bowed at the waist, like a man, rather than curtsied.

"I am Sir Tristan, Knight of Cornwall." she replied, "We have met before, your highness. I am one of your mother's knights." She said, wondering how much he'd had to drink. By his outward glibness, she assumed plenty. "How fare you this evening, my king?"

King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable

Tristan could be taking a walk. I feel like Gawain might be dangerous lol

Kingdom Guild: Golden City

#dialogueproblems

Kingdom Guild: Golden City

Azena said
Hahaha, oh the things she will see in the wee hours of a brothel xD

Yes, you do recall I said I like to torture and fuck over my characters, right? lol

King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable

read, will think of a post, got to run to a meeting.

Edit, the ability to respond was a bit taken from me by the ending, so waiting on Mordred to make a move.

Kingdom Guild: Golden City

You can, Eulalie is going to be mad at having to go to a servant's room in a brothel to have clothes ironed or her hair done, but at least she'll learn to dress herself.

Kingdom Guild: Golden City

Amid the half clad women was a half clad young man she assumed to be a male prostitute. She'd heard of such things. How French of them. He was handsome enough, but Eulalie had no need of prostitué.

But she needed to return to the topic of her maid. Mon Dieu, must everything be explained to these Americans? Eulalie lifted her chin at the suggestion that her ladies' maid not be welcomed. She followed Ellie and attempted to explain.

"Her name is Georgine Bonhomme, and she is my lady's maid. I have in my possession a statement of her clean criminal record in France, and a letter of her good standing from mon pere, et she has her passeport. A lord does not travel without his valet, and a lady does not travel without her lady's maid. Surely you have maids, staff, non? Women who make beds and lay out clothes, non? Bien sûr, vous le faites. Washing, ironing, et, ah, the hair, she sets it up. All of that. She will work and live where your servants work and live, s'il vous plaît. She came all the way from La Havre with me, and she will continue to be in my services. En plus de, she is the only one I can trust should the family streak of narcolepsie affect my senses. So, she is not unlike a dog to see for the blind." She stopped in the hall, ready to refuse to go further, awaiting a response. "Surely you can arrange some form of... of a hall pass, for her to tend me as is her duties. You take this from her, you take away her livelihood and all she knows. This is her profession, and America is not her home. Certes, vous voyez?"

Kingdom Guild: Golden City

Moments later, the front door opened once more, and a maid moved in carrying a few bags under her arms, followed by the coachman with a begrudging look on his face as he pulled two heavy trunks in the door. "Aye, I'll be getting the last one, just a moment." he said, going back out into the wet to fetch her last bit of luggage.

Mademoiselle Eulalie Bellerose, formerly of La Havre, and heiress to the Comt & Comtesse de Canton, currently of La Havre, was seething. First, there was the weather. Well that couldn't be helped, but someone who knew their place would have waited out the storm at the port rather than dragging her into a sopping carriage with a flimsy roof that had bounced and buckled its way across the city leaving the warm, dry steamship behind. Damner cette pluie, et au diable cette femme! Merde tout cet endroit. C'est la maison d'un cochon... Eulalie stood cursing them silently. She forced herself to keep a straight face, but the urge to wrap the snooty Snow in brambles was there. Then there was the fact that she was sent to the damned colonies for one little mishap with said brambles on a rival... That cow deserved it... she thought.

In a prim French accent, she turned to the girl who introduced herself to her as Ellie. "Allo, thank you. I shall appreciate a hot bath later as well." Eulalie expected the girl already knew whom she was. Surely this was news to have a noblewoman in such a place, inherited nobility no less, none of those purchased titles. She could trace her lineage all the way back to La Belle au bois Dormant. She gave an order to Georgine, her maid, to follow to the room and direct the placement of her luggage into said room as well, then turned back to Ellie, looking expectantly at her as she was prepared to follow.

Kingdom Guild: Golden City

OK so its my gal that's wet and pissed off, lol ok