(no subject)
Jan. 25th, 2005 09:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blue_eyed_lordThe Rider paused as the door to Milliways disappeared behind him.
On a sidewalk in a town somewhere in Suffolk, the Rider breathed deeply, taking in the scents of this new world, seemingly so very like his own.
Only, this one was pristine and untouched by the likes of the Light or Dark. Except, of course, for that which lives in the hearts of all humanity.
The Rider savored that thought for a moment.
The moment passed. Now, to work. For all the heady sense of new-found freedom, he knew that he was gravely weakened from his previous defeat, and the fact that he was now alone acutely reminded him that he had little time to find enough power to make his removal from this new world unfeasible. He needed power, and fast —which simply meant the largest, nearby source of humanity. London. The further away he was from here when his absence from the bar was discovered, the better.
After only a moment of thought, looking around the crowded, tourist-filled street, he had an idea. Nonchalantly, the Rider stepped off of the sidewalk and into the middle of an intersection. Disappearing from view as soon as the oncoming driver had swerved out of the way, the Rider was able to enjoy the resulting well-orchestrated wreck that involved at least three cars, and the general clogging of traffic and confusion.
Drivers got out of their cars—many of whom were tourists, already cross
after a long day of sight-seeing—and started yelling at each other, especially at the man who swerved.
"Are you mad, man? What'd you swerve for?"
"There was a man in the road! I didn't want to hit him!"
"You're barking! You can see there's no one there!"
"You'd better have good insurance…."
The Rider chuckled to himself as he slipped through the mess of cars, an unpleasant smile on his face. A taste of strife was just what he needed. Knowing he'd better get going before anyone showed up to try and cathc him, he slipped into a black Volkswagon Polo, rudely shutting the drivers-side door on the man who had stepped out of his car to see
what the confusion was on up ahead.
"Oy! That's my car! You, there! My car!" cries the man, adding to the shouts in the already crowded gathering.
The Rider shifted the car into reverse, made a U-turn and sped away as quickly as possible. It was not long before he was cursing the chintzy rental car. What I wouldn't do for my own damn horse back,he thought grimly as the car hummed to reach higher speeds.
On a sidewalk in a town somewhere in Suffolk, the Rider breathed deeply, taking in the scents of this new world, seemingly so very like his own.
Only, this one was pristine and untouched by the likes of the Light or Dark. Except, of course, for that which lives in the hearts of all humanity.
The Rider savored that thought for a moment.
The moment passed. Now, to work. For all the heady sense of new-found freedom, he knew that he was gravely weakened from his previous defeat, and the fact that he was now alone acutely reminded him that he had little time to find enough power to make his removal from this new world unfeasible. He needed power, and fast —which simply meant the largest, nearby source of humanity. London. The further away he was from here when his absence from the bar was discovered, the better.
After only a moment of thought, looking around the crowded, tourist-filled street, he had an idea. Nonchalantly, the Rider stepped off of the sidewalk and into the middle of an intersection. Disappearing from view as soon as the oncoming driver had swerved out of the way, the Rider was able to enjoy the resulting well-orchestrated wreck that involved at least three cars, and the general clogging of traffic and confusion.
Drivers got out of their cars—many of whom were tourists, already cross
after a long day of sight-seeing—and started yelling at each other, especially at the man who swerved.
"Are you mad, man? What'd you swerve for?"
"There was a man in the road! I didn't want to hit him!"
"You're barking! You can see there's no one there!"
"You'd better have good insurance…."
The Rider chuckled to himself as he slipped through the mess of cars, an unpleasant smile on his face. A taste of strife was just what he needed. Knowing he'd better get going before anyone showed up to try and cathc him, he slipped into a black Volkswagon Polo, rudely shutting the drivers-side door on the man who had stepped out of his car to see
what the confusion was on up ahead.
"Oy! That's my car! You, there! My car!" cries the man, adding to the shouts in the already crowded gathering.
The Rider shifted the car into reverse, made a U-turn and sped away as quickly as possible. It was not long before he was cursing the chintzy rental car. What I wouldn't do for my own damn horse back,he thought grimly as the car hummed to reach higher speeds.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-01-26 09:58 pm (UTC)He still looks alive; not only that, but almost vibrant with life. There is something about this life that isn't quite right, something a little bit off, but his eyes are bright and that's the main thing.
Hearing the wail of police sirens, the prince sheathes the sword in the hite belt that Bran put around his hips and puts his sunglasses back on. Walking out onto the sidewalk, Mordred watches what used to be a moving intersection with a smile. A warm one for a job well done, and he quickly hides it before turning back to the others.
"I do believe our smiling friend has caused an accident, most likely to steal a car and make good his escape." Left hand resting on the hilt, Mordred tilts his head. Smoothly taking the sword out, he turns and looks south. Granted, at the moment he's facing a wall, but the sentiment is the same.
"Brother?" He asks, glancing at Bran and raising his eyebrows as if in confirmation of his new senses.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-27 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-27 05:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-27 06:12 am (UTC)Bloody, blasted Topsider Muggles...
*To the curious looks of the others, he explains.*
I'm part of London Below now. This is London Above, or close enough to it, it would seem. My presence is... muted here. I won't be noticed as you will. Not quite as effective as an Invisibility Cloak, but pretty damn close.
*He shrugs and looks around, trying to orient himself. Modern London is not familiar to him, although he can feel the presence of doors to London Below about him as well as various traces of the Wizarding world.
They need a car. Tom rode in a car a few times as a boy. He's got no clue how to obtain one, but he stays quiet, hoping to be of use in another way. He'd very much like to impress the people with whom he's journeying.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-27 09:16 am (UTC)She feels a sudden confusion through the link, then a clear sense of love and understanding as well. The two seem to shift oddly, forming an overlay that is not quite united, and dizzying her.
Moiraine shakes her head, trying to clear her mind enough to take in the world around her, and then blinks in renewed shock at the cacophony of sirens, the strangeness of the things that are being called "cars," and the overall oddness of the sights and sounds of Mordred's world.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-27 09:37 am (UTC)*He steps a little nearer to her.*
*softly* We are in a city now -- a small one, but I think perhaps large by your standards. Machines, those cars are, to transport people about. And the sirens the police -- er, the authorities, to investigate the car crash the Rider caused, and take any injured people to hospital. Loud, I know.
*Moiraine nods, with a faint quick smile, but she still looks pale and preoccupied.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-27 11:04 am (UTC)We will need transport. Amongst other things. *produces his billfold, and examines the contents with a slight scowl* Though at the rate that inflation was going when last I remember it --
*closes his billfold, shaking his head* No matter. There are other ways.
*looks over at Will, and is about to speak silently to him in the Old Ones' normal manner -- but the dulling of his senses makes him pause, and say the words aloud instead, in the Old Speech* Keep close to the others -- I will return shortly.
*turns on his heel and disappears round the corner that leads to the town's High Street*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-27 10:23 pm (UTC)Mordred watches Merlion go with an odd smile. You would almost think that he was glad to see him go...
Nah.
Quickly lighting a cigarette, the prince turns to fact the rest of the group. "So, we just wait here for him? Okay. We know he's gone south, would any of you have an idea where, seeing as you know him better then I do? Towards Londini-London?" Yes, Mordred, lets start slipping back and calling everything by their Latin name.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-28 06:33 am (UTC)Ghastly place, London. Full of Saeson. I'm sure he'd fit in anywhere.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-28 07:53 am (UTC)He would make for London. He will want to be well away from here, and among people. As many people as he can, now while he is new-come here, and trying to gather power.
*His face is a little distant, as he gazes again at the south wall, but his voice is crisp and certain.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-28 02:45 pm (UTC)I have a feeling we ought to stick together, literally, due to our similarities.
*He is dying to ask Mordred questions, and to tell him that for Slytherins, his story is one of ambition and masterful strategy. This is not the time, however. He addresses the rest of the crowd.*
What is Aphelise capable of in this world? I mean to say, what specifically might he do in London? Will he gather an army or cause mayhem, or what?
no subject
Date: 2005-01-28 11:16 pm (UTC)*He pulls over to the kerb, seemingly not caring that he has pulled over on the wrong side of the road, and leans over to fling open the front passenger door.*
Get in, quickly!
*Bran and Will scramble into the front with Merriman, and Tom opens the back door so that Mordred, he, and Moiraine can get into the back. Once all are in and seated, comfortably or not, Merriman shifts gears and the car begins to reverse, away from the still-congested intersection.*
*over the noise of the engine as the car begins to gain speed* This will have to be fast...brace yourselves....
*Almost simultaneously, he engages the emergency brake and cuts the steering wheel sharply to the right, and the car begins to spin -- until it is almost facing the opposite direction, and then in another series of rapid movements he turns the wheel back to its original position, shifts from reverse into first gear, and steps on the accelerator as the car straightens out and roars off down the road.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-28 11:36 pm (UTC)*absently, to Tom* There is no Dark and no Light in this world, and less easy power for him and us both. No armies. But he will be trying to gather power, first of all -- to cause mayhem, as you say, and bring people under his influence. To bring out those emotions that are a power and a channel for the Dark, hatred and bigotry and mindless ferocity, and to find a place to make his own.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-28 11:48 pm (UTC)*It is comfortable, with leather-covered seats softer than those of any vehicle in her world, and the front is full of strange lights and numbers and devices that she thinks must be for steering. A strap dangles along the seat beside her. All the others seem comfortable with the car, though she notices a certain curiosity in the way Tom as well is peering about.*
*The world outside is full of other cars and strange-shaped houses, and all of it flashing by much too quickly for her comfort. The bond in her head is still strangely doubled, sending love and reassurance and lingering faint confusion in an overlapping stream. She spent far too long training in the White Tower, however, for her face to show anything of how disoriented she feels. Instead, she listens carefully to Will's words about the Rider, and focuses on what she does understand. She is Aes Sedai; she will not be a liability in this fight against the Shadow.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 12:03 am (UTC)Duw. I suppose being immortal gives one a different perspective on driving methods.
*Having regained his breath, Bran settles the harp on his lap and begins to play a quiet but intense and searching melody while Will is speaking.* We need to go *he points* that way. There should be a larger road, a highway, after a while. I don't know what it's called.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 12:13 am (UTC)I guess we're off, then.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-27 03:47 am (UTC)After quite the exhilarating and admittedly rather reckless drive down the M25 and into London, the Rider arrived at the Albert to grab a drink and possibly hear tale of what was currently going on around the country. He was pleased he actually managed to find a place to park the car reasonably close to the pub.
Once inside, he looked around. He was a bit disappointed. He had seen the bar at the end of universe and everything after that just didn’t compare. Nevertheless, he went to the bar and ordered some lager, prepared to listen to the latest news. Unfortunately for him, there was the tail end of a football match on the television and the pub was quite loud with cheering and yelling from either side. The game was obviously very close.
Somewhat put out, the Rider sat through the last few minutes of the game, watching the game and looking rather bored. It finally ended and half the bar went wild with cheering and shouts for more drinks, while the other half looked put out and muttered complaints under their breath.
One such chap sat down next to the Rider at the bar. Giving a polite, if put out, nod of acknowledgement to the Rider, he ordered a beer.
The Rider returned the nod in kind, saying, “Close match.”
“Yeah. The bloody ref was favoring the other team. Most unfair match I’ve seen in my life.”
The Rider nodded in agreement. “I noticed it, too. The referee was cheating.” The Rider shook his head in disgust at the referee.
“You blokes are just upset because your team didn’t get favored by the ref this time, unlike every other match they’ve played. You’re always saying the ref’s a cheat anyway, Boehms, anything so you’ll win your bet,” said another man, coming from behind to grab some celebratory beers from the barman.
The Rider turned to the man who sat next to him, Boehms, with a look that clearly said, ‘Are you going to take this?’. In the split second when Boehms was forced to decide whether to stay silent or fight back, the Black Rider took the opportunity to give the man’s mind a gentle push.
Boehms glared at the man whose team had won. “Y’know, Bailey. I’ve had about enough of your attitude. Always so high and mighty after your team wins. We all know its only because your team stole the best player from my team!”
And so it goes,, the Rider thought, smirking and turning away as the yelling became louder behind him. He pulled the shadows of the bar closer around him and finished his lager in peace while the bar erupted into a fight and the barman went to call the police.
He kept the smirk on his face until he arrived back at his Polo. As soon as I have proper influence around here, I’m going to take down Volkswagon for even making this bloody car, he thought as he climbed into the car once more.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-27 03:58 am (UTC)Arriving near Hyde Park, he found another parking slot and gratefully got out of the tiny car. A walk would be just the thing, he thought, grimacing, as his first few strides were rather stiff from being cramped in a small space.
He strolled along the green, hands in pockets, looking around and taking note of how things had changed, and always staying alert for any sign he was being followed.
Soon, he espied a small group of children sitting on the ground, looking rather sad and a little resentful at being left out of the game going on. Behind them, a larger group of children ran about and played tag, laughing and calling to one another. Obviously, these three children were Not Welcome in the game. The Rider could understand why, as they were rather scrawny.
Looking amused, he bent down and picked up a pebble lying on the pavement and threw it at a bird not too far from the children. The little girl in the group noticed and giggled as the bird squawked in surprise and flew a few paces away. The Rider threw another one, bouncing it off the bird’s back as it tried to take flight again, and this time the little girl pointed it out to the two little boys with her, who giggled as well. It only took a few more discreet throws for the children to catch on and to start throwing the rocks themselves.
The Rider watched the thoughts of these shunned little children, timing how long it took one of them put the idea and the resentment he felt. The Rider smiled at his handiwork, watching one of the rocks the children were throwing go astray and ‘accidentally’ hit one of the children playing tag. More like it soon followed it. He smirked and turned away as the joyful shouting became startled yelling, angry and childish name-calling, and tears.
Further into the park (for the Rider was quite enjoying his walk out in the nice sunshine and fresh air with no walls around him nor endless black space), the Rider watched as a man in his mid-forties was knocked down by a young Indian fellow.
“Terribly sorry, sir! I’m in such a hurry…I can’t be late!” the young man called back to him, looking apologetic.
The older man grumbled as he picked himself up off the ground. The Rider rushed over to help him up.
“Here, sir, let me help you,” he said, kindly.
The man muttered something quite racist and the Rider gave him an empathetic look. “I know what you mean, sir,” he replied quietly and seriously, “They’re ruining the country. Always so rude. They’re untrustworthy, too, something about their eyes.”
Finding a seemingly kindred spirit, the man launched into a long, racist rant, which he gave rather loudly and in a maudlin manner.
The Rider was pleased with himself and sat back to listen to the man rant, agreeing at intervals and adding his own two cents on occasion. He barely had to do anything to help this one along. A ranting man was bound to draw a crowd, and draw a crowd it did.
Allowing himself to slip back into the crowd, the Rider took the pulse of the crowd that had gathered. Not near enough agreement. The Rider added something to the ranting man’s speech, letting the words hold more power, more sway with the crowd, and more eloquence to reach in and get a sympathetic response. He could almost see the change in the attitude of the rapt audience. Many were frowning vaguely in shared concern for the wellbeing of their country, and some were nodding emphatically to the speaking man’s points. Ah, the Rider had almost forgotten what it was like to play with a mortal man’s mind. It was like conducting music, one could almost see the notes; all one had to do was reach out and pluck the right strings and voila, music.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 01:02 am (UTC)Arriving at his car, he took a moment to glower at it, darkly. The car looked back at him in all its cute and fun and chintzy glory; the only saving grace about it was that it was black. Threatening the car with Words of Power if it couldn’t get him the hell out of London quickly enough.
Threats muttered and promises made if it caused him to be caught, the Rider slipped smoothly into the car and proceeded to Waterloo Station as quickly as traffic would allow.
The whole trip was not enjoyable. The cramped legs, the bad traffic, the car, the constant presence of the Light niggling at the back of his awareness put in him a very dark mood by the time he reached the station.
He could feel the Light’s presence growing ever closer. Without ceremony, he stopped the car, put it in park, and left it in front of the station, only pausing to grab his briefcase. Looking very much the harried businessman, the Rider dashed into the station to catch the next Eurostar out of England.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 01:51 am (UTC)*turns off the car, automatically setting the parking brake* Out. Quickly.
*Once they are all out of the car, he glances round, scowling slightly at the number of police and security officers who seem to be swarming around an illegally parked Volkswagon car of indeterminate make.*
*He turns to Tom, who seems to snap to attention under his gaze.* If you can alter clothing, I assume you can alter other things? *At Tom's eager nod, he gestures to the number plates on the Daimler.* If you will permit, I will put an image into your head of the way the number plates should look -- it will give us time to leave unobserved.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 01:57 am (UTC)There you are, sir.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 02:19 am (UTC)*A flicker of fox-red hair across the room--*
There. *Bran's voice is soft, but it rings like a bell. He breaks into a run, loping easily like a deerhound, Mordred at his heels.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 02:22 am (UTC)His face goes dark with anger at being caught up with, and his eyes widen ever so slightly in fear, recognizing the power of the Hunt. With little ceremony, he begins pushing through passengers, while admittedly any passenger who manages to catch a glimpse of his enraged and annoyed face dodges out of his way.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 02:32 am (UTC)*He flings out an arm, five fingers spread wide and pointing, and calls out two harsh-sounding words --
-- and the others, hunters and hunted both, stagger as the world shifts beneath their feet --
-- and then they are no longer in the Eurostar terminus, no longer in London...no longer properly in Time.*
*Merlion lowers his arm, and though his face is almost deathly pale the fury still burns in his expression, and when the Rider whirls round at bay the first thing he will see is the slow, dangerous smile playing at the corners of the Old One's mouth.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 02:36 am (UTC)"Good evening, Master Aphelise," he says in a dreadfully soft, sing-song voice that is filled with the blood-lust of battle. It's contained, but it's there. "I'm afraid you've gone and upset people. Including me." The prince draws the sword out and moves automatically into guard.
"And as you can, I've brought company. And they like you less then I do." Mordred grins again, his eyes empty and bright.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 02:50 am (UTC)You sought to wreak your evil once again in a world that has no use for you. You shall not be allowed to succeed in this. We will not let you.
*Here outside Time, it can be very dimly told that something made of golden-red light is beginning to form in her hand.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 02:52 am (UTC)It's lovely to see you like this, Aphelise.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 03:01 am (UTC)Mordred's eyes glow with a strange gold-white-blue light, and he takes step forward so that he is in front of the others.
"Possibly it would be gentlemanly, or at least chivalrous, of me to give you another chance at running," the Pendragon's voice isn't human anymore. He wants blood, revenge on this man for making him hurt Galahad...but more then that, it wants to hurt the Rider for daring to coming into his world.
"But, as we all know, Mordred Pendragon has never chivalrous in his life...and I'm hardly going to start now." He pauses and then adds, much softer,
"Get thee gone, Dark Rider."
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 03:11 am (UTC)*Bran's eyes glitter cold and inhuman, and he stands tall with his hair like a white flame. The music that pours from the harp is wild, like hounds yelping and geese cackling high over looming dark hills. In it are the teeth of the winter wind. The Rider flinches as he plays, and Bran's lips curve slightly in savage satisfaction.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 03:21 am (UTC)So you have come to this, now, fleeing in train stations of stolen worlds, with none to aid you. And yet it will win you nothing. The Dark has risen and fallen, my lord, and your time on this earth or any other is ended.
*His voice is cold and quiet, but it carries, each word striking the air like sparks struck from an iron anvil.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 03:28 am (UTC)Petrificus Totalus.
*And with a snarl of vengeance he quickly adds a Burning Hex to the full body bind. It shouldn't feel so pleasant to do something like this, but Aphelise has caused Tom quite a bit of worry. Imaging the Rider's chagrin as the burning sensations burst and flare throughout his nervous system without him being able to even writhe in discomfort brings an even nastier smile to Tom's face.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 03:41 am (UTC)But why reserve blazing rage for only Tom? He glares icily at the rest of them as well.
"So glad you all could make it," he says coldly, speech made somewhat difficult from fighting the full effect of Tom's spell. "Six of you, I see. I suppose you'd feel insecure, otherwise. I imagine I should feel honored, since it took six to bring down all of the Dark, and yet you still feel the need to send six after me. Just as shoddy a group as last time, too," he adds, with a withering look.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 04:05 am (UTC)Not need, fallen spawn of a beaten Shadow. You would not understand the reasons, you have not the comprehension for it. Since you have nothing of use to say, then, perhaps you should be silent.
*The faint golden-red glow in her hand transforms and lashes out to seal his mouth with a white light.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 04:24 am (UTC)*Instead Merriman looks to the others -- the sons of Arthur burning bright, the regal Aes Sedai, and the youthful wizard whose inner power is spoken of only in whispers -- and he lifts his hand in a gesture that is both salute and command.*
'When the Dark comes Rising, six shall turn it back.'
*And with a turn of his wrist, the bubble of Time tilts --
-- and when it rights itself, only Merriman, Will, and the Rider are left within it.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 04:33 am (UTC)A strange noise emits from him, something that might have been a hiss if his mouth could open.
The Rider's jaw tightens considerably, and his face falls into a deathly still and furious expression, fear only faintly visible behind the cold, staring eyes.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 04:45 am (UTC)*He speaks a few precise words in the Old Speech, and Merriman's deeper voice resonates below and with his own. It is the spell by which an Old One may break the power of the Dark, to be used only at the greatest and most desperate need.*
*And around them the world rises whirling like a tornado, thundering soundlessly, turning black to white and then to rainbow and a dizzying formless blur, and throws them spinning from their bubble of Time.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 05:06 am (UTC)*They have plunged into the blur, into a vortex of unreality that sends the Old Ones spinning through other worlds, other times, everything moving too fast to be processed or comprehended and nothing solid or real anywhere. To fight it is to grasp at shadows and cling to illusions, but to give in would be far worse -- in this whirl there is nothing but madness, bombarding the senses and driving out all hope, all thought, all sanity....*
*In a desperate attempt to cast about for some anchor, there is only one point that the Old Ones can fix upon. And with all remaining shreds of concentration, they reach for it, and then --*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 04:34 am (UTC)Bloody hell...
What do you think they're doing to him? And why did Merlin send us here?
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 04:39 am (UTC)*Then it fades, and he is Bran again, Bran and hunter both, and he frowns, frustrated still but thoughtful also.*
The last task for them, he said. At the end of it.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 04:57 am (UTC)He makes a quiet and pained sort of groan before becoming completely unconcious, his breathing slow and shallow.
Mordred recovers from the surprise of the Rider's sudden appearance in seconds, replacing it with a cold smirk. It would be interesting to use Eirias to see if the Dark bleds....
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 05:14 am (UTC)Well, well, what have we here? Aphelise, you don't look nearly as smug as usual. Ennervate!
*He waits for Aphelise to moan again, a sign of regained consciousness*
Prurio!
*He flicks his wand and sets another hex upon him, this time one to make him itch all over. Tom could do much Darker hexes than this, but that would not be wise. Alas, Aphelise falls back into unsconciousness after a few moments. Tom looks thoroughly disappointed*
Blast...
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 05:21 am (UTC)Bran? The last task for them, you said -- but that is here, and yet they are not...
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 05:26 am (UTC)Not here, they are not. Not in any place nor time that I can feel.
*The music flickers out again like liquid trilling birdsong, and again, spreading through the green field above the Channel.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 05:45 am (UTC)He gazes down at the Black Rider, staring coldly and smirking. It's refreshing to see him in such a vulnerable state.
He gazes down at Eirias, still glowing in his hand. He will not sheathe it; no matter how Aphelise looks, he may still be faking them even yet.
Although, Mordred reflects, that's not likely with that horrible shade of white he's become. And it really doesn't work with the black he's wearing at all.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 05:50 am (UTC)What do we do now? Should we try to find Will and Merlin, or should we take this back to Milliways?
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 05:59 am (UTC)*There is no hesitation, although worry still shines in the dark eyes. Moiraine knows -- sometimes the price is high. The Wheel weaves.*
It is the reason that we are here. Will would not thank us for leaving the task undone, I think.
And it may be that they are at Milliways, at any rate, and waiting for us.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 06:06 am (UTC)*Then his jaw clenches, and he nods, once, accepting the logic of what she says.*
They had better be.
*His voice is soft and cold, and he sends a golden-eyed glare at the unconscious Rider. Then he presses a palm gently against the golden harp's strings, silencing them, and plays again, a high strange melody full of the Wild Magic. A door opens before them, and beyond it is the evening bustle of Milliways.*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-29 06:34 am (UTC)*The Rider is levitated and Tom guides him toward the door, surrounded by the powerful folk assembled by his side. Together they return to Milliways.