#he’s very lancelot trying very hard to be good precisely because he isn’t

[mummer]

was never that intense of a ten fan…. something too intensely likeable about him. bounces off. like he was built in a lab to be appealing and fun. exceptttt when he gets hypocritical and arrogant and evil cause you see the mask drop and you’re like… ohhh it’s a mask. it’s calculated….

[teamxdark]

He’s Not Here

More masquerade content but what’s this at the end???

In the grand castle ballroom, surrounded by soft golden light and the countless nobles clad in shimmering fabric, King Arthur was so bored he could cry.

This wasn’t what this night should have been; it was a masquerade party, an opportunity to hide away his identity and mingle among the people 一 okay, the nobility, but he would take what he could get 一 like he was a person instead of a king. Finally he had a chance to dance around until his legs ached, to eat food without worrying about the repercussions to his image should he dare speak with his mouth full or use the wrong spoon, to hold conversations that weren’t about politics or finances or how he was doing the best-or-worst job looking after an entire kingdom with a myriad of people with different needs and opinions. 

So how was it that, out of everyone in that room, he was stuck listening to some dull-voiced stag drone on and on about the rising price of grain?

“This is why pricing is tricky, you have to account for the pests before you ship it out and…”

Arthur fought the urge to dash away, but the instant he tried, he knew he would give himself away. His speed was renowned throughout the land, alongside his golden armor and brilliant blue spines. Those, at least, he had taken care of; Merlina had spent the better part of an hour adjusting his coloring to a warm orange and growing out his spines to disguise him beyond the limits of a simple mask. She had tried so hard to give him a chance to have a night off without people instantly worrying for his favor or trying to get something from him… only for him to be trapped all over again.

Arthur would have happily made an excuse to leave, if the stag would only let him get a single word in. His conversation “partner” seemed not to need to breathe, droning on and on in an endless monotone, offset by the cheerful music and bright lights and flashy costumes.

I’ll never be free of this.

“And now that the price is rising, it leaves me in a strange spot, you see. On the one hand, I sympathize with the people who cannot afford my wares, but on the other hand, it means more profit for myself and my own family.”

Chaos above, Arthur wished he hadn’t bumped into this man. His fingers tapped restlessly against his leg, mildly quelling the urge he had to just flee, to drop everything and everyone he had ever known and flee into the night and into the unknown.

“Not to mention, the cost of labor--”

“Mind if I cut in?”

Arthur’s head snapped over to the new voice, endlessly relieved at the interruption, though the stag continued to drone on, the odious voice still grating his ears even as the king faced the bold newcomer.

It was a tiger clad in elegant black clothing with silver accents, extending a hand out to him, and even though Arthur was eager to take it and be whisked away from this living nightmare, something about him made him take pause. His eyes took in the white fur streaked with blue, the slowly flicking tail that reminded him of Sir Percival 一 was it common among all cats? 一 and the eyes looking gently back at him.

He trusted those eyes. It was the look that they held, a look that reminded him of… 

Arthur mentally slapped himself. He’s not here, he reminded himself as he finally took the hand offered to him.

“Yes, please.”

The tiger seemed to brighten just a fraction at his approval, and he led him away from the trappings of boring conversation to the dancefloor, and Arthur had to try hard not to think about how this felt like being rescued by a knight. Especially not…

He’s not here.

The king was jostled from his thoughts as his new partner started to fit him into a hold, and a brand new anxiety washed down upon him as he tried to remember how to reciprocate the hold. Dancing lessons had never been high on the list of priorities when it came to running a kingdom, and yet somehow Arthur was expected to be able to social dance like a pro when his days were filled from dawn to dusk with meetings and drafting decrees and submitting notices of approval until he passed out on his bed. Arthur swallowed, trying to remind himself that stumbling during a dance was still preferable to listening to that one-sided conversation…

...but his partner didn’t dance like a professional. Well… he did, there was no denying his grace and timing, but he didn’t dance like he expected Arthur to be one as well. The steps were simple, the turns basic, and Arthur’s mind swam in relief as he realized that, somehow, this stranger was leading him through steps that he had managed to pick up on through trial and error.

This chance encounter was proving to be everything he needed.

The stranger led him carefully around the floor, maneuvering slowly around other people rather than weaving expertly between them like so many other couples did. If Arthur closed his eyes, he could easily pretend that he was practicing his basic steps with his brother, or his friends, or his--

He’s not here.

And yet…

Yet it was so easy to picture it, even as the peals of laughter surrounded him and washed into his subconsciousness like a spark of delight for him to enjoy. The strong hold, the careful footwork, the calculated rhythm…

Lancelot…

Arthur’s eyes opened, and though he saw stripes they were the wrong ones, and the bittersweet feeling of missing someone dear to him almost caused him to heave a sigh.

He had it bad, and he knew it. His greatest knight and closest ally and dear friend… Sir Lancelot was beyond compare. From questing as youths to his coronation, and in every disaster thereafter, Lancelot had been there, his pillar of strength in a tumultuous world, always standing nearby to passionately defend him or to spare him a quiet gesture of support. Lancelot had protected him from danger, defended his honor, strived to keep his spirits up for years and years…

Arthur had never considered himself one for romance, but as years went by, Lancelot had claimed more and more of his thoughts, attention and affection until the knight unknowingly held the king’s heart firmly in his hands. Too many times to count had Arthur been struck by the urge to grasp his hands, to sing out the words in his heart to him, to draw him close and see if he could make such a powerful knight’s knees buckle below him with a kiss alone…

One song changed into the next, and Arthur, too swept up in his fantasy, didn’t let go of the stranger, didn’t notice the slight lull in their dance, and so the dream kept going.

Lancelot wasn’t there, but Arthur could lean into this stranger’s hold on him, follow his dance, focus on his attire, concentrate on the energy he exuded, energy that reminded him so strongly of his Lancelot, and Arthur’s mind could so easily turn his dream into something more substantial. An illusion for him to drown in, just like this masquerade offered.

The music kept swelling, the sweet notes tickling his ears and driving him even deeper into his dream like he was in a trance. He kept dancing with the man that reminded him so much of his beloved that a second dance turned into a third, and Arthur clung on to his dream, not even registering that it might seem strange until--

“I mean no offense, but surely there are others who would want to dance with you?”

Arthur blinked, and the dream shattered as the man in his arms shifted back into a stranger. The king’s feet stilled, his gaze dropping to his feet. Arthur had to fight back waves of embarrassment and disgust at himself before he could answer.

“Forgive me, but the way you dance…”

HE’S NOT HERE!

“...it reminds me of someone dear to me.”

“O-Oh.”

His companion seemed at a loss, and Arthur held back another sigh, counting the beats in his head before pulling him along for the next dance, leading him in a very basic, repetitive step around the floor.

“I apologize,” Arthur murmured, knowing that there wasn’t much he could do to salvage the situation. At this point, he could only offer his apologies and an explanation. “I know it’s not fair on you, to imagine you are someone else, but…”

A look of hurt passed over his dance partner’s face, and goodness, even that reminded him painfully of Lancelot.

“...but you remind me so much of him.”

Arthur’s eyes swept over his partner, taking in the paradoxical way that he looked completely unfamiliar and yet he still somehow managed to feel so much like his dear knight. Perhaps the dream hadn’t fled from him quite yet, because now Arthur’s yearning mind was searching for any and every chance to convince himself that this was, somehow, Lancelot whom he was dancing with.

“You dance like he does,” Arthur thought aloud, as his partner remained silent. “Careful and precise.”

Your movements… I know them like I know my own.

“Pardon my asking,” the stranger returned, “but why do you not dance with him tonight?”

Like a weight to his soul that would never truly leave, Arthur’s melancholy came back to embrace him. “Ah… he isn’t here.”

He’s not here he’s not here he’s not here--

“Or at least…”

Arthur looked into the stranger’s eyes, his desperation to go back to his dream nearly choking him with emotion as the tiger’s eyes widened at the sudden look directed at him.

“...I haven’t recognized him, yet.”

Arthur knew it was terrible to put such a fantasy on a stranger at a party, but he wanted so badly to believe that this man was Lancelot. Arthur wanted to believe the ludicrous ideas his mind was supplying him with, that somehow this was Lancelot in front of him, disguised beyond all normal means. The tiger in front of him appeared to fluster, his mouth parting as though wishing to speak, though no words came forth.

“You have stripes like he does, too,” Arthur murmured softly, thoughtfully, and yes, he truly was reaching for every last detail in his pathetic attempt to turn what he had in front of him into what he wanted to see.

“If it pleases you,” the tiger finally said as the third song changed into a fourth one, “I… am not opposed to you pretending that I am he.”

Arthur smiled at that, feeling suddenly hesitant at the idea, now that the stranger, as kind and helpful as he had been, had given him his consent to mentally transform him into someone else, to be a player in this dream of his. It was sad, and unfair, but Arthur knew sadness and injustice. He tried to battle it every day, slowly changing and updating laws as they became outdated, but everything went so slowly and people only kept crying out in pain and Arthur wanted just one day, just one, to take ahold of something that he wanted and to cherish it.

“Thank you,” Arthur whispered as he stepped further into the stranger’s hold, feeling warmth overtake him as he confessed his truth. “I have loved him for a great long time and… perhaps this is the closest I shall get to what I dream of.”

Because that was all this would ever be: a dream.

He’s not here.

Arthur’s eyes closed as his head dipped down to rest on the tiger’s shoulder, a soft smile spreading over his muzzle as he noticed that he was of a similar height to Lancelot, and the dream came back in full swing. Arthur’s arms wrapped around his partner, blocking out any consideration to the lack of spines on his back, and the king focused on his heartbeat as it hammered in and out of sync with the other’s.

“I understand the sentiment,” his partner whispered in response, and Arthur had to hold back what was either a laugh or a sob, morphing it into a hum on its way out.

You speak like him, too.

And so the king held his partner as tightly and tenderly as he would a lover, humming along to the song as the masquerade around him faded into nothing. There was nothing, nothing in his dream, but himself and his Lancelot as they spun around slowly.

He’s here. He’s here, I can feel it.

Arthur’s dream permeated his mind, overtaking his consciousness, and as the fourth song faded into oblivion, he finally let out the sigh he had been carrying all night.

“Lancelot…”

Two pairs of feet stilled as both parties realized what had just been said, and one final word jolted the king from his dream.

“A… Arthur?”

He was here all along.

[youreawizardharr]

My piece in the Cradlesona community. I decided to revamp Eirene for the last time.

The image I used can be found here.

Cradlesona credit goes to @lovingsiriusoswald

Tagging: @cradlesonanetwork

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Name: Eirene Beverly Chapman

Alias: Princess of Cradle

Nicknames:

Lady Eirene (by Blanc Lapin)

Ei (by Oliver Knight)

Renee (by the Red Army)

Mother Hen (by Ray and Fenrir)

My Beloved (by Harr Silver)

Alice (by Loki Genetta)

Age: 23

Date of Birth: July 9th

Astrology Sign: Cancer

Gender: Female

Height: 5'5"

Occupations: 

Shop Keeper (former)

King of Cradle

Affiliations: The Red Army

Alignment: Neutral Good

Family:

Maryam Louise Sommer (mother)

Katherine Anne Sommer (grandmother)

Harold Reeves Sommer (grandfather)

Erza Chapman (father, deceased)

Pet: Ginger

Paired With: Harr Silver

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Background

Eirene was raised in the Land of Reason. Or, to be more precise, in the countryside of England. She, along with her mother, moved to London to live with her maternal grandparents. Eirene helped around the house, and even helped her grandfather with his small business of selling various wares.

She met Blanc not long after closing the shop, walking home, picking up his pocket watch when she noticed he dropped it by accident. Wanting to return the item back to its’ original owner, Eirene soon realized the man had left, running off in search of him.

She eventually finds him, calling out to the strange man, but he doesn’t hear her.

Blanc vanishes without a trace, seemingly falling down the rabbit hole that appeared suddenly. Has it always been there? Without thinking it through, Eirene follows him, her long, black locks whipping violently, her blouse rustling, as she descends quickly.

Something about this place felt familiar.

A sense of deja vu overcomes her.

Eirene was surprised to learn that she was born in Cradle. Her mother being from the Land of Reason, while her father was a native to Cradle. Erza Chapman, the name of the man who gave her life, was a kindred spirit, who drew everybody in. He helped anyone in need, and would give up the clothes he wore. Erza was one of the rare few who were born with the ability to harness magic, the magical energy he possessed was far greater, due to his royal lineage. After learning about his existence, the Magic Tower murdered him by extracting his soul. Luckily, Erza bidded Maryam and their newborn time to escape from Cradle through the portal connecting their worlds.

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Personality

Eirene is independent, she wants stability, and strives to work hard so that she doesn’t have to depend on the people around her, members of both armies can clarify this simple fact as they have given her odd jobs.

She is friendly with everyone, unless they give her a reason not to be. For instance, the night she found herself in the garden, Jonah wrongly accused her of trespassing. Eirene defended herself and told him she didn’t know, promptly apologizing for doing so.

She became angry, however, when he called her a liar. Eirene told him she didn’t have a reason to lie, and that she hated it when people never believed anything she says.

Her sudden change in attitude surprised him and Edgar, both. Jonah knew Eirene was being honest, right then. Her eyes held so much emotion within them, he apologized for his accusations, but didn’t let her leave.

Eirene is kind and caring to the point that she’ll help anyone who needs it, much like her father had, regardless of their social standings, or where they are from: be it the Red Territory, Central Quarter, or the Black Territory. She’ll defend them with every fiber of her being, having morals to abide by, and despises people who believe themselves to better than their neighbors. Eirene refused to side with either army when the two armies clashed against eachother, having come to love and respect both of the armies.

She’s easily forgiving and understanding, for Eirene forgave Edgar for threatening her into joining the Red Army, and refused to hold Ray accountable for it. She understood they had their reasons, and still cares about them.

Eirene is sensitive and overly emotional. Ray and Fenrir have both commented that she acts just like Sirius at times, being concerned about the wellfare of other people and always wanting to take care of them, so they dubbed her the nickname mother hen.

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Relationships

The Red Army

Jonah Clemence ;

Eirene never liked Jonah when she first met him, believing him to be rude and egotistical. However, the more she got to know him better, the more her opinion about him changed. She admires his integrity, and makes it a habit of telling him so. She also compliments him on everything he does.

Eirene shares the same fondness of sweets with Jonah, something the two of them bonded over. She’ll go with him to the cafe whenever he’s not so busy with his duties.

Edgar Bright ;

Her instincts told her that Edgar couldn’t be trusted, especially after he forced her to join the Red Army by using threats against her.

They became friends after he makes it his mission to apologize by offering her his jelly beans as a peace offering, of sorts. Eirene forgave him, telling him she understood the reasoning behind his actions, even if he did scare her when they first met in the alley.

The two often play board or card games together, with her always being the loser. Edgar never let’s her live it down. He’s also aware she’s smitten with someone in Cradle.

Kyle Ash ;

Eirene shares many similarities with him, but wishes he could be a bit more sensitive. She values her friendship with him, and hangs out with him whenever he goes to the pub for drinks with Oliver and Blanc. The two are really close. She defends Kyle when the others tease him for his bad habit, and says she’s just as much of a lightweight as he is.

Eirene helps Kyle with his daily rounds in the Red Territory, the Central Quarter and in the Black Territory, where she meets and visits the members of the Black Army for chitchat.

Lancelot Kingsley ;

When Eirene was first brought to the Red Army Headquarters, he intimidated her. Or, at the very least, he tried to be, but she was firm against him. Like Jonah and Kyle, Eirene worries about his health. She wishes he takes better care of himself, but doesn’t try to pressure him. Though, Eirene will mother hen him into eating something light on his stomach, much to his utter surprise.

Eirene usually helps him with his paperwork, the typical work of a secretary (only if he allows her to help him), but she doesn’t take no for an answer and helps him, regardless.

Zero ;

Eirene thought Zero was kind when they first met. The two were kind of awkward, and barely spoke to one another. She wanted him to trust her, so she did everything she could possibly think of to get him to open up to her. They became good friends, eventually.

Neutral

Blanc Lapin ;

Eirene never blamed Blanc for the mishap of her descending into Cradle. She actually thanked him for it because she met so many wonderful people that she forged bonds with. Each and every friendship she made meant more to her anything else in her life.

Blanc knows about the secret her parents are keeping from her. Eirene is an anomaly of both worlds. Her conception has never been heard of before. It has been recorded by him.

Eirene visits him frequently for tea and cake.

Oliver Knight ;

Eirene thought Oliver was a child, and treated him as such. He immediately despised her because of it, and threw insults at her everytime they saw eachother. At one point, he unintentionally made her upset by making her believe he absolutely hated her.

To make it up to her, he allowed her to embrace him (only occasionally), whenever she came to visit Blanc every now and then.

Eirene eventually learned about his curse, but never judged him for it. In fact, she told him it isn’t something he can control, that it wasn’t his fault. She wanted to be his friend, and if he wasn’t comfortable with that, then just being around him is more than enough.

Loki Genetta ;

Her first impression: strange. Eirene thought he was strange. The way he carried himself, his mannerisms. He acted like an actual cat.

He had this strange fixation with her, tried getting her to open up to him. She supposed he dealt with people like her on a daily basis.

When he asked her to go on dates with him, Eirene rejected him politely, but said they could have fun on days she wasn’t helping Kyle, or anyone else around Cradle. Loki looked dejected, but agreed to be friends.

Their friendship continued to blossom the more they hung out together. Eirene still acted reserved, shy even. Especially whenever he dragged her to his shared home with Harr. Loki watched the spark of interest within her eyes come to life, saw the way her face lite up with a dark scarlet hue.

Eirene has an attraction for Harr, huh? Thus, a series of feline shenanigans began. There's an unrequited love that Loki has for Eirene.

Harr Silver ;

The moment Eirene first laid eyes on the reclusive man, her heart races inside her chest. It felt hotter than the typical warmer weather Cradle usually deals with. Loki kept staring at her with the most delighted expression she had ever seen. She didn’t particularly like the look he was giving her.

The mischievousness flashing within those heterochromia eyes made her nervous, and she was certain that Harr felt the same way.

The next time Eirene met Harr, Loki brought her to the Lake of Tears, where said wizard had been occupying for several hours. She sat little ways from Harr, placing her hands on her lap. The awkward silence between them was deafening, but Eirene felt content just being there with him. She attempts small talk, elated that Harr responded to her.

The third time Eirene met Harr, Loki invited her over to their house, purposely pushing her up against Harr while making excuses about having to go on an errand. The two awkwardly stood there until Harr offered tea.

Their relationship continued that way. With Loki scheming, and both Eirene and Harr finding themselves in awkward or embarrassing situations. She gets to know Harr little by little, bringing pastries or apricotes for them to share when he’s fishing. She learned he loved apricotes that day and, with Luka’s help, baked him an apricote cake and a few apricote pastries.

They completely opened up to one another, after a month passed, doing little things Loki knew were signs that Harr returned Eirene’s feelings. It took him several attempts to get them to admit their feelings to one another.

They lounged around the Lake of Tears one afternoon, Loki purposely pushed Eirene off the small rock she stood on with his magic. She ended up falling on top of Harr, their lips connecting in that moment, causing the two of them to blush in embarrassment. Loki watches them from the sidelines, grinning.

Mousse Atlas ;

The former Ace of Hearts visited Eirene days after Edgar brought her to the Red Army, bombarding her with all sorts of questions about the Land of Reason. She answered each question truthfully, and then told him she was enjoying her stay in Cradle. The two would occasionally meet in the Central Quarter for a cup of tea and pastries while he asked her more questions about where she came from. They ended up becoming such good friends. After defeating her cousin in battle, Mousse offers to be her ambassador after she reclaims the crown.

Dean Tweedle ;

Eirene has met Dean a couple of times, but hasn't tried engaging more than a few conversations with him. She does enjoy hearing him tell stories about his students.

The Black Army

Sirius Oswald ;

Sirius knows about Eirene’s feelings for his childhood friend, Harr Silver. He even encourages her to try to get to know him, but warns her that Harr isn’t used to women.

Sirius hired Eirene after the war against the Red Army. The two are really close, and completely trust one another. Eirene works for him as a volunteer (in her perspective), rather than an hourly worker. He still pays her, no matter how much she declines lin.

Seth Hyde ;

Seth immediately gotten himself attached to Eirene the moment they met. He helps her lack of sense for fashion by helping her pick out dresses, shoes, and accessories to go along with her attire. He compliments her beauty, and always wants to dress her up.

Eirene taught Seth how to stitch one day, he kept jabbing himself with the needle, and Eirene cleaned and bandaged his wounds.

Fenrir Godspeed ;

Eirene harbored a crush for Fenrir after meeting him. She thought he was beautiful (until she met Jonah), and liked his charming personality. Her crush for Fenrir eventually wore off, and she came to view him as nothing more than a great friend.

Ray Blackwell ;

In her opinion, Ray should have sent one of the Thirteen to guard her. Instead, he sent a lower ranking soldier with her to the Centeral Quarter. His decision ultimately lead to her immediate capture by Edgar.

Eirene doesn’t hold Ray accountable, and said she forgave him after the war ended.

At one point, Ray and Fenrir drags her down to mischief hell, roping her in on their pranking other members of the Black Army.

Luka Clemence ;

Eirene had a tough time getting close to Luka. With her persistence, Luka eventually opened up to her, allowing friendship to grow. She always helped him with cooking.

Eirene developed her cooking skills through him, and he couldn’t be any more prouder.

Magic Tower

Amon Jabberwock ;

Amon wanted to use Eirene for his devious plots of ruling the Land of Reason, Cradle, and beyond their country. His magic crystal reserves weren't equivalent to her magical prowess, but her magic wasn't enough to combat against the magic he stole from her father: whose soul he infused into himself.

Eirene despises Amon for making the people she cared about suffer for selfish reasons.

Dalim Tweedle ;

Eirene immediately disliked Dalim, finding his attitude annoying. When he tried capturing her by the orders of Amon, she gave him a piece of her mind and kept defending herself against his magic and the spells from the other disciples. He told her that he wanted to be the one to experiment on her, but then said Amon would be livid if he ever said that where he can hear him.

After Amon's defeat, Eirene decided to give Dalim a second chance by letting him continue working in the tower as long as Harr was the new leader if he chose to be.

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Additional Information

The beauty mark Eirene inherited from her father is a trademark of the Chapman family.

Eirene is sometimes seen carrying Ginger around, or she has Ginger in a carrier. Eirene never walks the fennec fox on a leash, despite Jonah’s insistent nagging about his concerns that Ginger might harm Pineapple.

Her favorite colors are gold and royal purple.

Her favorite dessert is red velvet cake, especially if Luka is the one who makes it for her. He bakes it for her birthday every year.

Eirene hates the aftertaste of bitter alcohol.

Eirene inherited the capability to use magic from her father due to the high amplitude for the art that passed through the Chapman family for generations. Due to her mother being from the Land of Reason, her defensive magic is extremely powerful.