his_drededfate | First

[He remembers this thing, at least to an extent. Unfortunately, all the buttons and things just look the same. So there’s some fiddling, a false start, a moment of static, and all the while a young man in dark armor is furrowing his brow as he flickers in and out of focus on the screen. Eventually he rediscovers the correct methods for the device and a relieved smile passes his expression.]

I believe this should be… [Wait. Which way was up? Did it have an up or was it more like a mirror? The device half turns again before Mordred stops, breathes a half sigh and continues.] Right.

My apologies for any interruption, I am Mordred. [There’s a start and a stop before deciding it best to move on.]

I was here once before, though that time was brief. For that, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to leave so soon. But it is my intention that this time I’ll be able to accomplish what I could not previously as a warden. I will not waste this opportunity twice and I hope that with time I am able to prove that to you all. I will help in any way I can.

[Forcefully, he’ll relax. Despite the false starts and technology woes, that didn’t sound half bad. Right? He can only hope.]

I am here to answer any questions I am able, and I thank you for your time.

[Spam for Morgana]

[It isn't too long after his initial announcement that he tries to reach out to Morgana, though certainly not through the device. He has no grasp of how long he's been gone, or if she's even still present, but he can't be faulted for trying.]

Morgana?

Morgana, are you still here?

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[Her response is only more conflicting. He is unsure any better way to word his concerns.]

Forgive me as I mean no offense, but why have you?

[That raises her eyebrows. She turns to him, and instead of answering, gestures to her door, still open.] Come inside.

[There's a small dog sleeping on the foot of her bed, and a grand, futuristic chandelier floating in the center of the room. Beyond those additives (and a light canopy in the small adjacent room), it's the room she slept in at Ismere.]

[He enters the room, eyes spotting the changes rather quickly before he turns back to her, silent. He has guesses, but he'd rather hear more of an explanation from her before making assumptions.]

[Waving the door closed behind him, Morgana walks around the small, round table in her room before turning to face him again.]

It's not my decision to stay here. Don't you see, Mordred? All inmates are captives.

[He watches her but doesn't move.]

You don't believe that you can ever leave.

[It is more an observation than a statement.]

I don't believe he'll ever let me leave.

[Because maybe she's capable of eschewing her moral ground, maybe she could break again and let them rebuild her in whatever way the Admiral deems most just, but the very thought appalls her. She has seen the sort of people the Admiral approves of, and they include Arthur and Merlin.]

This is captivity in a pretty light, and nothing more.

Then to what purpose, do you believe, that he keeps you here? And for so long.

Entertainment. Punishment.

[She rubs one wrist, where scars from the Sarrum's chains still mar her skin. She does it because it's tangible: the scars she obtained here were erased when she was sent back to Camelot.]

He seems to enjoy that.

Edited 2014-03-07 18:25 (UTC)

[There are questions in his head, but none he'll choose to voice. Instead he asks the one that seems inevitable.]

What is it you plan to do?

[A sharp, pained smile crosses her face briefly. What is there left to do? She's escaped, and suffered for it. She's given up and suffered just as much. And she is far from just accepting that she will be here forever.

So the question stands, unanswered, in her own mind. She lifts her shoulders, satisfied that it doesn't feel like a helpless gesture.]

I have no plan. [Yet. For now. She needs one. She needs something.]

[Mordred gives a slight nod, acknowledgment. Although it's hard to imagine her without a plan, he won't argue it.]

Do you have a warden now?

[All her plans have functioned as cautionary stories; she's trying to learn from her mistakes, though maybe not in the way Mordred would like. When she nods, it's a careless gesture, as if she could care less about being assigned a keeper.

It's not entirely true. Anya is a confusion to her.]

My third. [He smile curls again, small and ironic.] Why? Do you intend to talk to her about my well being?

I intend to ask, yes.

What do you think of her?

Anya Lehnsherr. [A shrug.] She's not a fool, and she has an interesting mean streak. If I'm meant to love her or hate her, then something must be wrong. [She's playing it down; she likes Anya well enough. It's trust that she's unsure of.]

[He tilts his head slightly. No death threats, no extended rants or negativity. Interesting.]

Wrong? How so?

I don't care about her either way. [It's not quite the truth, and she realizes it distantly. That doesn't mean she's going to fess up.] Whether she stays or goes won't make a difference.

[She said the same thing about Lara too, her last warden - and when she vanished, Morgana was more upset than she'd ever expected to be.]

Then I can only hope she stays.

Were you paired not long ago?

We'll see.

[She shrugs lightly.] It hasn't even been a month yet.

[There's another nod from him and a smile.]

I'm sorry, I've been asking you several questions. But if you should have any trouble, you will let me know?

[She smiles at that, smiles because after the years she's spent here she knows that trouble is unavoidable.]

I will.

[She promises anyway, because it's simpler, because he will learn. And because she'll ask the same of him.]

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