Scify
It always starts with a lighthouse.
I'm nearly always in favor of something like this, though I'm not actually sure if it'll fix the problem (very often, people just use the discussion time in exactly the same way, sans Xs).
- Location
- USA
If you do it, don't make it longer than a few hours. Discussion usually doesn't really last much longer than that in my experience.
- Location
- St. Petersburg
I don't think we have a choice. We were told - even though she doesn't call 'the girl from Atlanta' by name, - 'I am not Gala, I will never be Gala, I don't want to be a substitute for someone else'. What are we to do?
It was easy to dissociate the rest of the Knights from their progenitors because there was no real attachment, no doubt, and no guilt. He tells Annabelle he doesn't need to justify himself before her. Yet when Gemma dies in the Dreamworld, he sees a reenactment of Gala's death and nearly has a breakdown over it. He tries to take it back, to resurrect her. And he sees her as Gala when he does so, specifically:
I don't think he ever processed her death. There just wasn't time for that, he had a war to wage, his mother to kill, and his enemies to trap. It wasn't the situation most suited for self-reflection. Then he got frozen in time, and when he awoke, 'she' was right there on the first day. The only time he got close to it was after the dream, when he remembered her dying in agony... and then the moment was gone. How can he believe her death if she is besides him, running away with him, partying, dancing?
But now that it got pointed out, and he has all the time in the world to think about it, there isn't much he can do to keep that illusion. No more than he can keep up the pretence of being Morgan after making the call.
The question I'd like to ask, is there anything that ties Gemma and Morgan together that isn't connected to Gala? I am not the first raising it, too.
I think that as much as Mordred wanted to compensate for his past in the dream, his actions were at least partially motivated by his concern for Gemma. I mean, if he truly believed Gala's soul was still intact through thousands of reincarnations, shouldn't he have known that her soul is immortal and preserved by the power of the artefact, that she can never truly die and will always be reborn? Yet he made a choice and paid the price for something that would be irrevocably lost if he didn't. That something would be Gemma's personality, unique to her and her alone, no?
Which vote?
I feel ya, friend. Then again, I am sorry to say this, your vote just didn't appeal to me, because it addressed things in the manner that I found was out of place. Sometimes you have to say "I'm sorry" instead of "Hell if I know where we went wrong". And sometimes not knowing is not an excuse.
(also, lately I came to think that if a vote can't sum up an idea in two or three sentences, it is not a very good vote)
I don't often comment negatively on the votes I dislike if they aren't competing for the winning spot, especially if I don't think there is something blatantly wrong with them. Perhaps if they raise a point that I just can't pass on discussing. But most of the time it leads to bruised egos and agreeing to disagree. I do appreciate that you try to come up with new solutions, though. Just having another opinion voiced helps people make their own.
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- Location
- Fabulously Rainbow Ireland
........It has barely half the votes Spartan's one does (13 to 24) there's no way in hell it's catching up without a huge influx of new voters.
- Location
- MN
Welp guess it's time for ...
It's not what I wanted but I had a hard time writing out a coherent argument between three people so I decided just to post it as is.
Annabelle was confused, Bailey of all people had dragged her from school to meet Morgan. Now she was waiting in a living room while Bailey was standing around in the kitchen.
Annabelle shot to her feet and ran towards Morgan as he entered the room, then stopped dead when she saw Gemma right behind him. Emotion coursed through her. Surprise, worry, shock, betrayal, and rage flashed across her face in rapid succession.
Gemma likewise froze, just outside the room. Like a deer caught in the headlights of a train.
Neither seemed to be able to speak.
Morgan lightly tugged on their wrists, "Annabelle, Gemma, come sit down with me. I have something to say to both of you."
Everyone started talking at once. Accusations, crying, hatred, and nonsense were thrown back and forth until Morgan cut Annabelle, Gemma, and himself off with a gesture.
Morgan, running his hand through his hair, before beginning. "Also I haven't been entirely truthful with you guys. It has been ... hypocritical of me to ask answers about your pasts without offering any answers to my own .... and I'm not ready to take the step yet." In a small voice he continued, "not with anyone."
They sat in silence for a full minute
Bailey watched Morgan leave as a epiphany struck her. There could only be one reason Morgan would have wanted her here rather than the always helpful Piper. Bailey walked over to the counter, grabbed two glasses, and poured each a generous shot from her hip flask.
She returned her flask and picked up the two glasses. She took a breath then headed back towards the room with Annabelle and Gemma wondering if Morgan was ever going to get her a refill that he oh so owed her.
Annabelle shot to her feet and ran towards Morgan as he entered the room, then stopped dead when she saw Gemma right behind him. Emotion coursed through her. Surprise, worry, shock, betrayal, and rage flashed across her face in rapid succession.
Gemma likewise froze, just outside the room. Like a deer caught in the headlights of a train.
Neither seemed to be able to speak.
Morgan lightly tugged on their wrists, "Annabelle, Gemma, come sit down with me. I have something to say to both of you."
Everyone started talking at once. Accusations, crying, hatred, and nonsense were thrown back and forth until Morgan cut Annabelle, Gemma, and himself off with a gesture.
Morgan, running his hand through his hair, before beginning. "Also I haven't been entirely truthful with you guys. It has been ... hypocritical of me to ask answers about your pasts without offering any answers to my own .... and I'm not ready to take the step yet." In a small voice he continued, "not with anyone."
They sat in silence for a full minute
Bailey watched Morgan leave as a epiphany struck her. There could only be one reason Morgan would have wanted her here rather than the always helpful Piper. Bailey walked over to the counter, grabbed two glasses, and poured each a generous shot from her hip flask.
She returned her flask and picked up the two glasses. She took a breath then headed back towards the room with Annabelle and Gemma wondering if Morgan was ever going to get her a refill that he oh so owed her.
It's not what I wanted but I had a hard time writing out a coherent argument between three people so I decided just to post it as is.
- Location
- Somewhere
[X] Tell the truth - it was you who was being selfish, for hiding your true identity from Gemma whilst trying to undo the mistakes of your past by using her as a stand-in for Gala. Gemma deserved better than that, and you're sorry you didn't admit things sooner. It's funny how it takes a drugged babble state to make everything become so clear to you: from here on, you want to know Gemma for Gemma - and for her to know you as you are, too.
I think you're trying too hard force to Gemma as an influence to his choice when what is there points that it was purely because he couldn't stand killing, and losing his best friend again, that and that once the choice was made the corpse was only ever referred to as Gala's, Gemma was no longer in his mind.
If he didn't pay the price she'd be lost to him, she'll come back sure, but it would be somewhere else far off, and even if he did find her she'd just be a little baby again, he'd have to wait at least a decade and a half for her to grow back into his friend, and that just brings up uncomfortable questions about grooming frankly.
- Location
- St. Petersburg
Maybe? But the thing is, he interacted with Gemma too. He is aware she is not quite the girl he knew, on some level. He is aware that he has been deceiving himself. Remember this?
He is just pretending not to notice.
The alternative, if I understand your position correctly, is that Gemma as herself holds no value to him, so when the illusion is finally shattered all that is left for them is to say goodbye and part ways. But Mordred is our protagonist, led by our choices, and were he to dismiss her, half the thread would rebel because they like Gemma just fine and have never known Gala besides a few flashbacks.
Is it a meta-argument? Perhaps. But it leads to certain decisions, and the character has to justify those decisions to himself somehow. The thread loves Gemma, and therefore Mordred can't help but be conflicted about it.
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I agree he knows Gemma isn't Gala on some level, he's accepted that as fact already for the others after all, but he first had that thought about Gemma during their first meeting and ever since then and especially leading up to our current situation he's been burying that deeper and deeper in favor of living out his fantasy unlike what happened with the rest. The bond he's built, that feeling of connection and attachment which drove him to his big emotional moments over, and with her were because of his thoughts and regrets over Gala.
Gemma wants to be seen for herself, not another girl but when the things that attracted Mordred to her were fueled by her looking and acting almost exactly like that other girl, and that she's that girl's reincarnation, when she also wishes she could just live an ordinary life, well shit there are so many issues just from that to make it sound like as much of a mess as that thing Annabelle calls a love life. From us doing our own version of her scorched Earth orders by razing Camelot to the ground with the Forces of Darkness for its own good, up to this we truly are our mother's son .
I don't actually think that once the lie is gone that Mordred can just say goodbye, and go, we're tied too deep to the knights for that, and Mordred is almost certainly going to feel some shame and guilt over deceiving and projecting on Gemma, my stance is more that their current relationship is incredibly shallow, fueled by Galalust, and that even after apologies are said, and both agree to start from scratch it just looks like there's too much baggage for anything deeper to go well for either party.
[X] Tell the truth - it was you who was being selfish, for hiding your true identity from Gemma whilst trying to undo the mistakes of your past by using her as a stand-in for Gala. Gemma deserved better than that, and you're sorry you didn't admit things sooner. It's funny how it takes a drugged babble state to make everything become so clear to you: from here on, you want to know Gemma for Gemma - and for her to know you as you are, too.
A Nation's Virtue
南國山河南帝居
[X] Tell her the truth.
-[X] Start at the beginning.
-[X] Start at the beginning.
Firebird Zoom
Pretty Bird
- Location
- Who knows?
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Votes are locked, foul necro.
Also, @Gally, if this fic actually was an anime/TV show, would this song be/have been an OP at some point?
Technically it wasn't a whole month yet. Though, given the poster's avatar... I do have to wonder if they were trying to be ironic; because yeah, it effectively was resurrecting a dead quest. Pity, was interesting, but alas, like so many QMs; this one got bored. ... Or was it personal problems... the inane discussion convinced me to only pay attention to thread marks, so I don't remember.
- Location
- United States
Or you could shut up and wait for the update like the rest of us instead of making cute little 'wistful' remarks to bait Gally into assuring you the quest isn't dead.
Warning: Everyone chill
Turing Decidable
𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕗
- Location
- Belgium
- Pronouns
- He/Him
everyone chill
All right, people, let's not disturb the peace any further. Please post only if you have something of substance to say. You especially, @Spartan Altego. There was no need to take such a hostile tone.
I am Mordred Pendragon
Gally
Got the whole word talking King Kiba
"I'm the one who's being selfish," you say.
Gemma tilts her head to the side, as if trying to see you from a different angle. As if trying to find the right context in which to view your statement.
"I've been lying to you," you admit. Caledfwlch, which has been roiling just under your skin ever since this conversation began, falls eerily still, almost like it's holding its breath. "Ever since I came to Roosevelt. I made all these mistakes and…I've been looking at you like…" You shake your head. Where do you even start? Gemma won't be able to understand anything with your identity spell screwing up her mind. "I just…don't think you're going to like my explanation."
"I just want you to tell me the truth," Gemma says.
"Even if it's something you don't want to hear?" You ask.
Gemma shrugs. "It's got to be better than this," she says. "I feel like I'm drowning, Morgan, but I can't even see the water. I'm worried about you."
"You're…me?"
"Morgan, this isn't normal," Gemma says, running her hands through her hair. "Can we please stop pretending this is normal? We ran away, Morgan. You offered to come with me, and I said yes, because I'm insane, and I felt like…" she trails off. "It doesn't matter. We came to a fucking brothel, and – Jesus – and we're both so fucking high on drugs made by aliens. This is a normal day for me, because I'm fucked in the head, but…for you?"
"Maybe I'm fucked in the head too."
"That's why I'm worried," Gemma says quietly. "What's going on with you? Talk to me."
Words can't answer her question.
From obsidian clutch, I draw my blade. Caledfwlch, Caledfwlch,
Gemma's eyes widen.
CALEDFWLCH.
Your heraldry has always come like a storm when you called it, bursting out of your skin in an explosion of light and power, your soul imprinting itself on the world around you with glorious cacophony.
Now it comes hesitant, uncertain. Light seeps from you like smoke, flowing across your body before solidifying into black purple armor. Your blade appears in your hands almost meekly, its tip pointed down at the ground. All that remains unsummoned is your helm, leaving Morgan's face exposed amidst your Mordred's Heraldry in all its splendor.
"Oh my God," Gemma whispers. She presses a hand to her mouth and takes a shaky step backwards. "Oh my God." Her eyes meet yours for the briefest moment.
You've seen that look, a thousand thousand lifetimes ago. On the steps of the castle, painted red with the blood of its defenders. There had been other colors too, black and pink and midnight blue, but it had been the red that stood out to you most. Gala's face had worn that exact look, when she saw you coming towards her. Gemma is wondering whether she can summon Shackle before you put your sword through her chest. She is realizing that she can't.
"I don't want to hurt you," you say, taking a step back. Caledfwlch billows with liquid light, shedding mass. Your sword vanishes into nothingness, while your armor shrinks and becomes something more casual – jeans, a flannel shirt. What you had worn to the party at Piper's house. "I want to apologize."
Gemma doesn't seem to really be hearing you. "Oh my God," she says again. "Oh God. Oh God. Oh God." She looks at you, and for a moment she looks so utterly unlike Gala that you can't believe you ever could've compared them. Her features – the smattering of freckles, the curve of her jaw – are unchanged, but there's something different in the cast of her face, in the way the disparate elements come together.
It is only after the moment passes that you realize Gemma is desperately, desperately afraid.
You stumble backwards another step, trying to give her distance, trying to defuse the situation. "Gemma-"
"I give up," she whispers. Her back hits the wall and she sinks to a sitting position, knees pulled up to her chest. "You got me, you fucking got me, I can't do this anymore-"
"I wasn't trying to get you!" You interject. "I needed to…talk to you. All of you. I had to see who you were, and try to figure out what to do, and it was…" you swallow. "I liked it better than running, or hiding, or hating every single second of what I was doing. Or hating myself because I was doing it…or hating everyone else for making me."
"So you…listened to me warn you," Gemma says. "Listened to me ask you to leave. Listened to me tell you that I didn't want a part of whatever went on between you and her."
You bristle, and your armor ripples with complex patterns of light and shadow. "I know. I was looking past you, but…that's what I was talking about, why I was being selfish. That wasn't fair to you!"
Gemma's eyes snap to yours, almost before the words are entirely out of your mouth. "Fair to me?" She asks. "You…reached into my head and…made me think you were my friend. You flirted with me. You made me trust you, and…I kissed you." She recoils. "We're so far past fair to me that…that…that…"
"I know. You deserve better. I should've admitted this sooner, I should've thought about you instead of just thinking about myself. I think I-"
"Just kill me."
You can't find the words to respond to that.
"Please?" Gemma asks, her voice hesitant. "Whatever this ploy is, please, stop. I told you already, I give up, I can't. I can't handle this." There are no tears in her eyes, but her words are half choked with emotion. "You got me, okay? Your plan worked. You tricked me."
"I wasn't trying to trick you!"
"I don't care!" Gemma shouts, and her words carry a sliver of Shackle with them. The walls of the room reverberate with power, sheer presence shedding energy in the form of sound and force. "It's a game, it's a joke, it's real, I don't care. I don't care if you want to kiss me, or fight me, or give me a fucking pep talk. Don't. Please."
You shut your mouth.
"Kill me," she says again. "This was my only chance. I said, enough, and I packed, I bought a ticket, and I left. And I took the one boy who couldn't possibly have anything to do with it. And it wasn't enough. I'm not getting out of this, kill me."
"Gemma."
Gemma shakes her head, speaking over you. "Please do it quick. Like the dream, but…cleaner. It didn't stick, but it hurt, and…" she lets out a dry, tiny sob. "Please, please, please."
The distortion of space opens up beside you. It's the same effect you saw Matthew create in the park – the same effect you saw in the photograph Ophelia had of Annabelle. A tiny, detached part of you realizes that it's some kind of four-dimensional gate effect, and you marvel at the complexity of it. Three armored figures step out of it, their edges stabilizing as they emerge – Piper, Ginny, and Bailey.
Caledfwlch retreats back through your skin, and you hold your hands up in a symbol of peace. Bailey steps forward, a mass of solid armor plating, and her hand blurs.
You nearly react without thinking, but catch yourself and close your eyes at the last moment. You don't dare activate Caledfwlch. In this situation –
The punch takes you right under the chin and knocks you into immediate, blissful unconsciousness.
"Don't worry," Annabelle says. "It's not a dream. I think we're both a little sick of those currently." She's seated in her bed, back stiff against the headboard. Her hands rest lightly on her lap, and she looks over at you with the same curious expression from the previous dream.
You blink, then look down. There's fae-forged steel driven into each of your wrists, silvery nails that glimmer in time with the aches they send up your arms. You reach for Caledfwlch and feel it, pinned deep inside your soul. Too far away for you to call. "This is a…better reception than I imagined."
"The others wanted to go all fire and brimstone," Annabelle explained. "I convinced them not to. I don't think you need it, Morgan. Mordred." She frowns, pensive. "Morgan."
"Where's Gemma?"
"Asleep, last I heard. Gavin's with her. He can't…heal her, but he can keep her for a while. Make sure she doesn't hurt herself."
You swallow. "I might've fucked some things up."
"No shit?" Annabelle asks. Then she sighs. "I mean, yeah. You didn't help, but you're not why she's like that. She was having a hard time long before you."
"You're being weird," you note. "Non-judgmental and…civil."
Annabelle laughs, but her body doesn't move with the expression. Caledfwlch coils tightly in your gut. "I'm freaking out on the inside," she promises you. "All the negativity is busy there for right now. I'm a little paralyzed from the neck down, if you didn't notice."
You nod. "I'm sorry. I definitely fucked things up."
"I sort of got the story from Gemma before we put her to sleep," Annabelle says, quiet. "It wasn't really your fault. I'm hoping…well, you're moving around okay."
"If I healed from it, I'm sure you can."
Annabelle nods. "You ready to dive into things, or do you want a little more small talk first?"
You don't know if you can handle diving into things just yet. "I, um…I guess I'm kinda curious why we're in your room. What if your dad comes by?"
"Oh," Annabelle exhales in a kind of half laugh. "We're not actually in my house. This is The Observatory. It's this secret base one of our past selves built in the middle of the Walls-Between-Worlds. We can sort of copy parts of the real world onto certain rooms."
"Like some kind of substantial spatial mirroring?" You ask. "That's…awesome."
"It's over my head," Annabelle admits. "I just wanted a little home away from home."
You nod, silent.
"The others don't want me talking to you," Annabelle says after a few long moments. The tone of her voice tells you that small talk is over. "They think you're a dangerous psychopath."
"And they left you alone with me? While you're crippled?" The nails might stop you from summoning Caledfwlch, but you're not restrained in any way. You could probably break Annabelle's neck or smother her before anyone could stop you.
Annabelle's still for a moment, then rolls her eyes. "I just tried to shrug a little, but then…it was an easier sell than you'd think. I'm pretty sure if you did attack me I'd just miraculously recover anyway. That kinda tends to be the way my life goes." She shakes her head. "Anyway, they'll let us talk for a little while, but then they'll want to decide what to do with you."
You think back to what Gemma had said on the street corner, the first time you had really met her. "They'll kill me."
"They'll vote," Annabelle says. "We vote on the really big things like this. Gemma's unconscious, so she's out. I'm psychically and emotionally compromised, so I'm out. That means Ginny, Piper, Bailey, Matthew, and Gavin. Got it?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Stop guessing. Bailey's gonna vote to kill you. No convincing her."
You nod. There'd be no convincing Lady Bercila either, were she one of your judges. You can still remember the fury on her face when she saw Gwynn with Lorelei. What is adultery next to slaughter? What is treason next to the horrors you inflicted on your own family?
"Piper's a strong vote to kill," Annabelle continues. "She's been having the dreams, and she thinks there's more to gain by just getting rid of you. But she likes logic. Good arguments. I think there's reasons to at least delay your execution that she might agree with."
Rational arguments feel like playing to your strengths, and it would be nice to approach the situation in a reasoned, logical way. You can think of a few good benefits to keeping you alive. It would depend on how many prejudices Piper brought into the vote. "So I can reason with her."
"Yeah, but listen. Ginny is leaning towards killing you too. Right now she's not as into it as Piper, but if you start being clever and trying to talk your way out of this too much, she's gonna think you're a weasel."
"So, what?"
"Ginny's gonna want you to beg," Annabelle says. "Hear you say that you were wrong, that you're sorry, that you're throwing yourself at our mercy. You give her that, you can convince her to stay the execution. But you've gotta be convincing. Gavin could go either way. He's mad, especially with the whole paralyzed thing, but…He's a softie. He could be the only one of them to see Morgan from behind the sword and the legends and the creepy mind spell. You just have to be genuine."
You hang your head, thinking back to your conversation with Gemma in the nightclub. That…had been fairly genuine for you, but it seemed like everything out of your mouth had only made things worse. Could you afford to tell them who you really were?
"Matthew will want to leave you alive no matter what," Annabelle finishes. "You know so much about everything that's going on…he'll need to question you."
"So Bailey and Matthew are locked," you say. "Piper's really against me but can be reasoned with, Ginny's somewhat against me but can be begged, and Gavin's neutral but can be talked to?"
Annabelle nods. "That's the gist."
You turn the ideas over in your head. You could try all three tactics, but that risked generalizing your arguments for the sake of time. Focusing on only two would le you really develop your words. "Answer one question for me?"
"Sure," Annabelle said, she sat still in that curious way that made you think she was trying to shrug again.
"Why are you helping me?" You ask. "I did…a lot of stuff. I lied to you. And fucked with your head."
"Mm, yeah, you did a lot of shitty things," Annabelle says. "I'm…pissed. I'm compartmentalizing, but I'm pissed. At the same time though, I've seen you. I…sympathize."
"Why?"
"Because you woke up one day and realized that the world was a shitty, unfair place," Annabelle said. She's not looking at you any more – her eyes are locked on the ceiling. "And that you were the only one that could fix it." She nods at her bedside table, motioning you over. You peer towards where she's focused and see her cell phone. "Open it?" She asks. "I would, but, you know. Hands."
You reach over and press the home button on the phone with one finger. The lock screen pops up, the date and time on a black screen, with a long number below them.
7,600,534,441
As you watch, the number flickers. It goes up one, two, then down one again, almost faster than a normal human eye could follow. As the seconds tick by however, the number climbs up and up and up.
"Seven-point-six billion lives," Annabelle says. The words sound practiced, but you get the intense feeling she's never spoken them to anyone else before. "Normal people can't comprehend numbers that big. The other Knights…they can't do it either. They…know it. But they don't really get it. The scale of it. But…we're not normal."
"We're not the Knights," you agree, quietly.
"When the consequences get that big, you start to realize how small everything else is in the face of them." Annabelle says. "You start to realize what it means to be a God."
[] Reason with Piper, Beg Ginny, Talk to Gavin
[] Reason with Piper, Beg Ginny
[] Reason with Piper, Talk to Gavin
[] Beg Ginny, Talk to Gavin
[] Write In
EDIT: Let's slap a 2-hour ban on voting, to see if it will aid discussion
Gemma tilts her head to the side, as if trying to see you from a different angle. As if trying to find the right context in which to view your statement.
"I've been lying to you," you admit. Caledfwlch, which has been roiling just under your skin ever since this conversation began, falls eerily still, almost like it's holding its breath. "Ever since I came to Roosevelt. I made all these mistakes and…I've been looking at you like…" You shake your head. Where do you even start? Gemma won't be able to understand anything with your identity spell screwing up her mind. "I just…don't think you're going to like my explanation."
"I just want you to tell me the truth," Gemma says.
"Even if it's something you don't want to hear?" You ask.
Gemma shrugs. "It's got to be better than this," she says. "I feel like I'm drowning, Morgan, but I can't even see the water. I'm worried about you."
"You're…me?"
"Morgan, this isn't normal," Gemma says, running her hands through her hair. "Can we please stop pretending this is normal? We ran away, Morgan. You offered to come with me, and I said yes, because I'm insane, and I felt like…" she trails off. "It doesn't matter. We came to a fucking brothel, and – Jesus – and we're both so fucking high on drugs made by aliens. This is a normal day for me, because I'm fucked in the head, but…for you?"
"Maybe I'm fucked in the head too."
"That's why I'm worried," Gemma says quietly. "What's going on with you? Talk to me."
Words can't answer her question.
From obsidian clutch, I draw my blade. Caledfwlch, Caledfwlch,
Gemma's eyes widen.
CALEDFWLCH.
Your heraldry has always come like a storm when you called it, bursting out of your skin in an explosion of light and power, your soul imprinting itself on the world around you with glorious cacophony.
Now it comes hesitant, uncertain. Light seeps from you like smoke, flowing across your body before solidifying into black purple armor. Your blade appears in your hands almost meekly, its tip pointed down at the ground. All that remains unsummoned is your helm, leaving Morgan's face exposed amidst your Mordred's Heraldry in all its splendor.
"Oh my God," Gemma whispers. She presses a hand to her mouth and takes a shaky step backwards. "Oh my God." Her eyes meet yours for the briefest moment.
You've seen that look, a thousand thousand lifetimes ago. On the steps of the castle, painted red with the blood of its defenders. There had been other colors too, black and pink and midnight blue, but it had been the red that stood out to you most. Gala's face had worn that exact look, when she saw you coming towards her. Gemma is wondering whether she can summon Shackle before you put your sword through her chest. She is realizing that she can't.
"I don't want to hurt you," you say, taking a step back. Caledfwlch billows with liquid light, shedding mass. Your sword vanishes into nothingness, while your armor shrinks and becomes something more casual – jeans, a flannel shirt. What you had worn to the party at Piper's house. "I want to apologize."
Gemma doesn't seem to really be hearing you. "Oh my God," she says again. "Oh God. Oh God. Oh God." She looks at you, and for a moment she looks so utterly unlike Gala that you can't believe you ever could've compared them. Her features – the smattering of freckles, the curve of her jaw – are unchanged, but there's something different in the cast of her face, in the way the disparate elements come together.
It is only after the moment passes that you realize Gemma is desperately, desperately afraid.
You stumble backwards another step, trying to give her distance, trying to defuse the situation. "Gemma-"
"I give up," she whispers. Her back hits the wall and she sinks to a sitting position, knees pulled up to her chest. "You got me, you fucking got me, I can't do this anymore-"
"I wasn't trying to get you!" You interject. "I needed to…talk to you. All of you. I had to see who you were, and try to figure out what to do, and it was…" you swallow. "I liked it better than running, or hiding, or hating every single second of what I was doing. Or hating myself because I was doing it…or hating everyone else for making me."
"So you…listened to me warn you," Gemma says. "Listened to me ask you to leave. Listened to me tell you that I didn't want a part of whatever went on between you and her."
You bristle, and your armor ripples with complex patterns of light and shadow. "I know. I was looking past you, but…that's what I was talking about, why I was being selfish. That wasn't fair to you!"
Gemma's eyes snap to yours, almost before the words are entirely out of your mouth. "Fair to me?" She asks. "You…reached into my head and…made me think you were my friend. You flirted with me. You made me trust you, and…I kissed you." She recoils. "We're so far past fair to me that…that…that…"
"I know. You deserve better. I should've admitted this sooner, I should've thought about you instead of just thinking about myself. I think I-"
"Just kill me."
You can't find the words to respond to that.
"Please?" Gemma asks, her voice hesitant. "Whatever this ploy is, please, stop. I told you already, I give up, I can't. I can't handle this." There are no tears in her eyes, but her words are half choked with emotion. "You got me, okay? Your plan worked. You tricked me."
"I wasn't trying to trick you!"
"I don't care!" Gemma shouts, and her words carry a sliver of Shackle with them. The walls of the room reverberate with power, sheer presence shedding energy in the form of sound and force. "It's a game, it's a joke, it's real, I don't care. I don't care if you want to kiss me, or fight me, or give me a fucking pep talk. Don't. Please."
You shut your mouth.
"Kill me," she says again. "This was my only chance. I said, enough, and I packed, I bought a ticket, and I left. And I took the one boy who couldn't possibly have anything to do with it. And it wasn't enough. I'm not getting out of this, kill me."
"Gemma."
Gemma shakes her head, speaking over you. "Please do it quick. Like the dream, but…cleaner. It didn't stick, but it hurt, and…" she lets out a dry, tiny sob. "Please, please, please."
The distortion of space opens up beside you. It's the same effect you saw Matthew create in the park – the same effect you saw in the photograph Ophelia had of Annabelle. A tiny, detached part of you realizes that it's some kind of four-dimensional gate effect, and you marvel at the complexity of it. Three armored figures step out of it, their edges stabilizing as they emerge – Piper, Ginny, and Bailey.
Caledfwlch retreats back through your skin, and you hold your hands up in a symbol of peace. Bailey steps forward, a mass of solid armor plating, and her hand blurs.
You nearly react without thinking, but catch yourself and close your eyes at the last moment. You don't dare activate Caledfwlch. In this situation –
The punch takes you right under the chin and knocks you into immediate, blissful unconsciousness.
**
When you awaken, you see pastel walls, hardwood covered in various belongings, and sunlight streaming in through the window. You groan automatically. Annabelle's room again.
"Don't worry," Annabelle says. "It's not a dream. I think we're both a little sick of those currently." She's seated in her bed, back stiff against the headboard. Her hands rest lightly on her lap, and she looks over at you with the same curious expression from the previous dream.
You blink, then look down. There's fae-forged steel driven into each of your wrists, silvery nails that glimmer in time with the aches they send up your arms. You reach for Caledfwlch and feel it, pinned deep inside your soul. Too far away for you to call. "This is a…better reception than I imagined."
"The others wanted to go all fire and brimstone," Annabelle explained. "I convinced them not to. I don't think you need it, Morgan. Mordred." She frowns, pensive. "Morgan."
"Where's Gemma?"
"Asleep, last I heard. Gavin's with her. He can't…heal her, but he can keep her for a while. Make sure she doesn't hurt herself."
You swallow. "I might've fucked some things up."
"No shit?" Annabelle asks. Then she sighs. "I mean, yeah. You didn't help, but you're not why she's like that. She was having a hard time long before you."
"You're being weird," you note. "Non-judgmental and…civil."
Annabelle laughs, but her body doesn't move with the expression. Caledfwlch coils tightly in your gut. "I'm freaking out on the inside," she promises you. "All the negativity is busy there for right now. I'm a little paralyzed from the neck down, if you didn't notice."
You nod. "I'm sorry. I definitely fucked things up."
"I sort of got the story from Gemma before we put her to sleep," Annabelle says, quiet. "It wasn't really your fault. I'm hoping…well, you're moving around okay."
"If I healed from it, I'm sure you can."
Annabelle nods. "You ready to dive into things, or do you want a little more small talk first?"
You don't know if you can handle diving into things just yet. "I, um…I guess I'm kinda curious why we're in your room. What if your dad comes by?"
"Oh," Annabelle exhales in a kind of half laugh. "We're not actually in my house. This is The Observatory. It's this secret base one of our past selves built in the middle of the Walls-Between-Worlds. We can sort of copy parts of the real world onto certain rooms."
"Like some kind of substantial spatial mirroring?" You ask. "That's…awesome."
"It's over my head," Annabelle admits. "I just wanted a little home away from home."
You nod, silent.
"The others don't want me talking to you," Annabelle says after a few long moments. The tone of her voice tells you that small talk is over. "They think you're a dangerous psychopath."
"And they left you alone with me? While you're crippled?" The nails might stop you from summoning Caledfwlch, but you're not restrained in any way. You could probably break Annabelle's neck or smother her before anyone could stop you.
Annabelle's still for a moment, then rolls her eyes. "I just tried to shrug a little, but then…it was an easier sell than you'd think. I'm pretty sure if you did attack me I'd just miraculously recover anyway. That kinda tends to be the way my life goes." She shakes her head. "Anyway, they'll let us talk for a little while, but then they'll want to decide what to do with you."
You think back to what Gemma had said on the street corner, the first time you had really met her. "They'll kill me."
"They'll vote," Annabelle says. "We vote on the really big things like this. Gemma's unconscious, so she's out. I'm psychically and emotionally compromised, so I'm out. That means Ginny, Piper, Bailey, Matthew, and Gavin. Got it?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Stop guessing. Bailey's gonna vote to kill you. No convincing her."
You nod. There'd be no convincing Lady Bercila either, were she one of your judges. You can still remember the fury on her face when she saw Gwynn with Lorelei. What is adultery next to slaughter? What is treason next to the horrors you inflicted on your own family?
"Piper's a strong vote to kill," Annabelle continues. "She's been having the dreams, and she thinks there's more to gain by just getting rid of you. But she likes logic. Good arguments. I think there's reasons to at least delay your execution that she might agree with."
Rational arguments feel like playing to your strengths, and it would be nice to approach the situation in a reasoned, logical way. You can think of a few good benefits to keeping you alive. It would depend on how many prejudices Piper brought into the vote. "So I can reason with her."
"Yeah, but listen. Ginny is leaning towards killing you too. Right now she's not as into it as Piper, but if you start being clever and trying to talk your way out of this too much, she's gonna think you're a weasel."
"So, what?"
"Ginny's gonna want you to beg," Annabelle says. "Hear you say that you were wrong, that you're sorry, that you're throwing yourself at our mercy. You give her that, you can convince her to stay the execution. But you've gotta be convincing. Gavin could go either way. He's mad, especially with the whole paralyzed thing, but…He's a softie. He could be the only one of them to see Morgan from behind the sword and the legends and the creepy mind spell. You just have to be genuine."
You hang your head, thinking back to your conversation with Gemma in the nightclub. That…had been fairly genuine for you, but it seemed like everything out of your mouth had only made things worse. Could you afford to tell them who you really were?
"Matthew will want to leave you alive no matter what," Annabelle finishes. "You know so much about everything that's going on…he'll need to question you."
"So Bailey and Matthew are locked," you say. "Piper's really against me but can be reasoned with, Ginny's somewhat against me but can be begged, and Gavin's neutral but can be talked to?"
Annabelle nods. "That's the gist."
You turn the ideas over in your head. You could try all three tactics, but that risked generalizing your arguments for the sake of time. Focusing on only two would le you really develop your words. "Answer one question for me?"
"Sure," Annabelle said, she sat still in that curious way that made you think she was trying to shrug again.
"Why are you helping me?" You ask. "I did…a lot of stuff. I lied to you. And fucked with your head."
"Mm, yeah, you did a lot of shitty things," Annabelle says. "I'm…pissed. I'm compartmentalizing, but I'm pissed. At the same time though, I've seen you. I…sympathize."
"Why?"
"Because you woke up one day and realized that the world was a shitty, unfair place," Annabelle said. She's not looking at you any more – her eyes are locked on the ceiling. "And that you were the only one that could fix it." She nods at her bedside table, motioning you over. You peer towards where she's focused and see her cell phone. "Open it?" She asks. "I would, but, you know. Hands."
You reach over and press the home button on the phone with one finger. The lock screen pops up, the date and time on a black screen, with a long number below them.
7,600,534,441
As you watch, the number flickers. It goes up one, two, then down one again, almost faster than a normal human eye could follow. As the seconds tick by however, the number climbs up and up and up.
"Seven-point-six billion lives," Annabelle says. The words sound practiced, but you get the intense feeling she's never spoken them to anyone else before. "Normal people can't comprehend numbers that big. The other Knights…they can't do it either. They…know it. But they don't really get it. The scale of it. But…we're not normal."
"We're not the Knights," you agree, quietly.
"When the consequences get that big, you start to realize how small everything else is in the face of them." Annabelle says. "You start to realize what it means to be a God."
[] Reason with Piper, Beg Ginny, Talk to Gavin
[] Reason with Piper, Beg Ginny
[] Reason with Piper, Talk to Gavin
[] Beg Ginny, Talk to Gavin
[] Write In
EDIT: Let's slap a 2-hour ban on voting, to see if it will aid discussion
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Gally
Got the whole word talking King Kiba
so can we do a write in or just pick these options? because '[] explain, everything, what happened, what you did, why you did it then let them judge' would probably be an better option that trying to social-fu them.
Really don't want to pick any of the options, being manipulative like that and trying to get the best result will bite us in the ass.
Really don't want to pick any of the options, being manipulative like that and trying to get the best result will bite us in the ass.
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Gally
Got the whole word talking King Kiba
I'll add a write-in option officially, sometimes I forget to.
I'll also slap a 2-hour ban on voting for discussion purposes, since we were discussing that before I ghosted.
DkArthas
CAPITAL IS TO BLAME
- Location
- Earth
- Pronouns
- They
Meh, let it all burn. Never cared for Gemma.
We should have left the shits behind long ago. Though I will admit I like Mathew and Annabelle
For now, let's convince them to keep us alive for a while and than escape when we get the chance.
[] Reason with Piper, Talk to Gavin
Leaning toward this.
We should have left the shits behind long ago. Though I will admit I like Mathew and Annabelle
For now, let's convince them to keep us alive for a while and than escape when we get the chance.
[] Reason with Piper, Talk to Gavin
Leaning toward this.
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XkaliburRage
Perpetual Procrastinator
This quest just seems going further and further away from building our own faction and destroying the cycle. Gemma was perhaps the last step towards something that would be interesting again and people decided to gamble.
Do people just want to join The Team or something? Please, tell me now so I wouldn't have to get my hopes up if that's the case.
Do people just want to join The Team or something? Please, tell me now so I wouldn't have to get my hopes up if that's the case.
So...
That went as bad as I feared it could.
Fuck.
And it's not about joining the Team. Hell, that was never even on the table. Having them not think of us as an enemy is the most positive result I can hope for.
Even now, if we can at least get them to think of us as 'useful asset' instead of 'kill now' that's good.
But we won't ever be part of the Team. Mordred cannot be one of the Knights ever again. That bridge was burned when we made our first vote.
As for vote...
Leaning towards Piper and Gavin.
That went as bad as I feared it could.
Fuck.
Building our own faction is not easy when you're basically lying to everyone about who we are, and as for the Cycle? That's a long term goal that we don't even know how to go about.
And it's not about joining the Team. Hell, that was never even on the table. Having them not think of us as an enemy is the most positive result I can hope for.
Even now, if we can at least get them to think of us as 'useful asset' instead of 'kill now' that's good.
But we won't ever be part of the Team. Mordred cannot be one of the Knights ever again. That bridge was burned when we made our first vote.
As for vote...
Leaning towards Piper and Gavin.