[X] [Sakura]

We've avoided here enough, recently. This will also subconsciously convince people that we haven't been deprioritising interactions with her, thereby getting us to put off interacting with her more and leading to a worse end for her. Truly, this plan is dastardly.
 
Adhoc vote count started by Erien on Dec 25, 2024 at 9:09 AM, finished with 44 posts and 38 votes.


Vote locked.
 
Mordred's Christmas New

View: https://youtu.be/bMb_sBG-gFE?si=jgVyzE8hgd1IvcVi

[Mordred]


This is non-canon, but in another time, it could be.



"Ar…thur." Mordred says quietly, staring at you. She tilts her head one way, then the other, green eyes staring… not so much at you, as around you. Like an unfocused camera, she was taking everything in, but not really 'seeing' it. She was in a borrowed outfit, a red t-shirt to hide the bloodstains and a pair of pants from your younger years that managed to fit her. The woman was fit, but was far from weighty.

"Good timing," You say with a smile. "Mordred, can you get that spatula sitting there by the oven?"

Mordred blinks, one eye, then the other. Then she slowly turned her head to look at the oven, her movements were sluggish, very tired. She tilts her head, then slowly walks over to it, bare feet slapping against the tile floor of the kitchen before she comes to a stop before the oven. She reaches a hand and grab-

"No, the thing just to the left."

She grabbed the spatula. "Arthur."

"Thanks, bring it here?"

Mordred stared at the spatula for a few moments, then slowly made her way over to you. She then gently placed it down onto the counter.

You smile again. "Thank you Mordred." Then you pick it up and begin to place the eggs onto the plate. One… two… eight… twelve… and lightly more yet still will be needed. It promises to be a big breakfast, and to think, there was time when you thought feeding Taiga alone was enou-

"Ar…thur?"

"Yes?" you ask, turning to look at your servant.

Mordred was staring at the display of fruit in a basket nearby, her hand reaching for, but stopping just short of an apple there. She slowly turned her head towards you, "Arthur?"

You smile a touch wider. "Go ahead."

As Mordred removed the fruit you watched her, her movements were… unreal. She moved like she was trapped in a thick syrup. Medea had stated more than once that there wasn't anyone 'there' not truly. A ghost of a person that had once existed. Her attitude in battle was that ghost just taking over temporarily.

"Want some juice to go with it?"

Mordred did nothing for several movements, then nodded with two minute jerks of the head like a piece of unoiled machinery. You turned towards the fridge, then paused as you felt someone press against your back. It was her head, unmoving, she was simply standing behind you and pressing her forehead against your back.

"Shi…r…o…u"

You closed your eyes, and let her stay there as long as she needed to. "Always." You say quietly. "Thank you for all your help so far."

"Shi…rou."

"You're welcome."



It's funny to me, honestly. I don't particularly care about Mordred. Her being in this story was simply the point of divergence, the original one. I had simply planned on Shirou being delayed in the park, and Rin fixing her clock. But things quickly grew out of control from there.

Mordred is an interesting character to be certain, one nearly as tragic to me as Artoria is. In another time, things could have gone differently were it not for the actions of Morgan. But a lot of Arthurian legend is tragedy. Both in the Fate verse, and ours. Mordred hasn't had much of a role to play in this story, she can't, really. When I made her a berserker I deliberately wanted it to be an oldschool style. Berserkers being just regular servants with odd quirks (ie, FGO) annoys me. So she will remain broken, you can't remove madness enhancement forever. But that doesn't mean she isn't an interesting character, and won't have her own story to tell.

Because, hoo boy, there's spicy stuff coming for her to deal with
specifically.

So please look forward to that, and have a Merry Christmas.
 
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