Arthurian Legend RP

Mythian looked up and scowled "what is this slop we are expected to eat? And my room is hardly the size of a hat box! And we need to SHARE the rooms? What is this hell we have been sent to?"

"That's something we can agree on," Mordred replied, sliding into the seat across from her. Taking a bite, he shrugged. "Though the food isn't terrible." For several minutes they focused on eating before he asked, "Do you know what kind of classes there are here? All my father said was 'pack up you're leaving'."

Mythian was still dissatisfied with her food then nodded. "Yes, It's the most advanced math, literature, history, and science classes in all the lands"

Mordred groaned. "Tell me there's something redeeming this godforsaken school." All he needed was at least one class outside that wasn't boring. Swordplay. Archery. Horseback. Something. Anything.

Mythian thought for a moment "there are sports...archery, sword play, spear, knife throwing, jousting... at the end of the year two students are picked to play in the kings tournament"

"I can live with that," Mordred said after another sip of soup. "Maybe having older brothers will pay off here." Wincing, he rubbed his temples. After being assigned a room, he'd developed a headache that was as stubborn as he was. Ironic really, he mused tiredly.

Mythian nodded  and looked at Mordred "are you I'll? You keep touching your head and wincing, and in of course there was earlier on our journey here"

"It's possible," he muttered. "I've had a headache for a few hours now." He met her gaze. "What did happen earlier? You mentioned something about me speaking in tongue."

Mythian nodded getting pale "you were speaking in a language I do not know of... your face paled, your eyes grew red, you were not responding, the voice was one of demons"

A shudder ran down Mordred's spine. "Something like that happened before. I'd thought my brothers were making it up, but now..." Closing his eyes, he dropped his head onto his arms. "I don't know."

((Am I doing this right so far?))

(Perfect

Mythian frowned looking at him "what is it?"

"Nothing." When he realized this was going to pass, he scowled. "Everything made of glass broke and a strange symbol was carved into the door. None of us recognized it. They figured that I was either cursed or possessed."

Mythian looked confused "What are you talking about Mordred? there words are nonsense!" she said setting her spoon down to stare at him.

Mordred opened his mouth and then stopped. Finally he shook his head. "Nevermind. I don't know why I'm telling you this in the first place." Why had he told her? As he glanced at her, he frowned. Something extended between him and Mythian. A thread? "Sors," he breathed. Fate.

Mythian narrowed her eyes at Mordred, she was not magic, so couldn't see any thread.  "Your some weird it Mordred! I don't t know how you have lived this long, if you were my son I would have beheaded you the moment I caught sight of you!" She said harshly.

Fury flashed hot and furious through him. But it drained away just as quickly. He didn't have the will or energy to argue. After all her words were close to the truth. Demon. That's what he'd always been called. Without another word he rose, grabbed his bowl, and moved to leave.

Mythian beat him to the punch, she stood up and hurried off to her room. When she got to the room she changed into her night wear then waited for her roommate. Once her room mate was sound asleep Mythian got out of her bed and walked over to her room mate with her pillow, and smothered the other girl to get her own room.

The next morning there was Comotion about the death of the girl. Mythian was doing a beautiful job of pretending to be sad, and in these times, there was no way to tell how the girl died, so she was diagnosed with some sickness and her body was being sent to her family, though there was still a large crowd in the hallways, and the school was buzzing of the news.

Mordred's own night was restless. When dawn came he was only half awake, skipped breakfast, and so missed the news of the girl's death until his literature class. He didn't pay it much mind until he learned who her roommate had been. "Did you say De'Fluer?"

One of the girls next to him nodded. "She's distraught. What a terrible thing to happen."

"Mmm," was his only reply. Inwardly, he was smiling.

When he spotted her watching his sword class with a group of other girls, he made his way over. "And you call me a monster," he said by way of greeting.

Mythian looked at Mordred, her eyes were icy, but her expression looked shocked. "Why, I'm sure I don't know what your talking about, Locke, is it? Why don't we talk over there?" She said and curtsied to her friends then walked behind the tent where they kept the weapons without waiting for Mordred's answer, she simply expected him to follow.

"You killed her," Mordred stated once they were out of earshot of the other students. Leaning easily against a tree, he watched her, keeping a hand on his sword hilt.

Mythian didn't look disturbed at all "Your the only one who seems to think such a silly thing"

"What you do is your business," Mordred shrugged. "I just find it amusing that you call my family wicked when you kill to get what you want."

Mythian scowled "this was different, how dare they make me,one of the highest ranked ladies in all of Camelot, share a room?! And I had to kill my husband, he was so old, I wasn't t gong to do anything with him" she added wrinkling her nose.

"I don't see a difference. Killing for what you want is the same no matter what." Mordred smirked. "And if he was married to you then he's probably grateful for being put out of his misery."

Mythian's jaw dropped, she hit him once on the chest, but it was covered with a chest plate so it hurt her rather then him "you horrid boy! How dare you say such things?!"

The sight of her wincing made him laugh softly. "I'll say what I wish, fair lady. Unlike many of those here," he slid closer, a dark smile on his lips. "I'm not afraid of you."

Mythian glared and narrowed her eyes then looked him right in the eye. She leaned her face up close to his "You should be" she said darkly.

Leaning so close, their lips were almost touching, Mordred pressed the tip of his sword lightly against her stomach. "Why? You think you're the only one with blood on their hands?"

Mythian was hardly aware of how close they were now, she was to distracted by his piercing blue eyes."I think that I'm the only one willing to kill you" she said with disdain and gently tapped his sword away.

"And I'll need to wait for my turn to kill you," he replied, sheathing his sword. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted the group of girls watching them. Several of them were giggling and one or two were blushing.