- Invitation Status
- Not accepting invites at this time
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- I have Thursdays off between two jobs. I am usually available on Wednesdays and Sundays, too. I will usually respond in the evenings, if I can, on the days I work.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Fantasy, Romance, Medieval, Futuristic, Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi, Modern, Action, Adventure, some High-Fantasy, Lord of the Rings, Pacific Rim, King Arthur, anything Game of Thrones-esque
Well, at least there hadn't been a lecture. Merlin watches Arthur go, somewhat amazed that they'd managed to have a half-semi civil conversation and she tilts her head, thoughtful before looking back to the four Knights who are leaving. She would have hurt them for what they'd done, her judgement would have been harsher, but somehow she found herself actually grateful for Arthur for handling the situation. It was strange, feeling something even remotely positive for the blond-haired man but Merlin didn't mind. She didn't hate Arthur....she just hadn't had a reason to like him either is all.
He was looking forward to talking to her tonight? Interesting. Well, if he decided to perhaps LISTEN to what she told him instead of assuming he knew it all and let her ask questions without throwing a prideful fit about it...she might actually enjoy that conversation with him. So thinking, Merlin turned her eyes up to the giant of a man behind her, smiling a little. Bors looked back at her with a curious expression, frowning a little as if he were trying to figure something out.
"What language was that, Merlin?"
Galahad, Bors and Guinevere were the only three people that called her by her NAME and it always brought a smile to her lips and it didn't fail now. Merlin looked back up at the sky and then back at the Knight. "It's....well, it's called Dracon. It's an ancient dialect belonging to another species."
"And how did you learn it?" the black-haired man asked and Merlin shrugged a little. "I don't know how I learned it. I just...have always known it. My father said it ran in our blood." The male looked like he was going to speak, but someone was running toward them and Merlin was abruptly called away on a healing emergency. She bid Bors a quick farewell and once again immersed herself into her work. It was a long day after that and Merlin finally made her way to dinner in clean clothes, but not a dress. She was in the ones she preferred and as she entered the dining hall that contained only the Royal Family and a few trusted Nobles, she gave a quick bow in the King and Queen's direction and then looked quickly for where she was supposed to be sitting. It varied from meal to meal that she was invited to and Merlin's eyebrows shot up into her hairline to see she'd been placed by Arthur and across from Morgana.
She took her seat, feeling instantly ill-at-ease. This was going to be an interesting night.
He was looking forward to talking to her tonight? Interesting. Well, if he decided to perhaps LISTEN to what she told him instead of assuming he knew it all and let her ask questions without throwing a prideful fit about it...she might actually enjoy that conversation with him. So thinking, Merlin turned her eyes up to the giant of a man behind her, smiling a little. Bors looked back at her with a curious expression, frowning a little as if he were trying to figure something out.
"What language was that, Merlin?"
Galahad, Bors and Guinevere were the only three people that called her by her NAME and it always brought a smile to her lips and it didn't fail now. Merlin looked back up at the sky and then back at the Knight. "It's....well, it's called Dracon. It's an ancient dialect belonging to another species."
"And how did you learn it?" the black-haired man asked and Merlin shrugged a little. "I don't know how I learned it. I just...have always known it. My father said it ran in our blood." The male looked like he was going to speak, but someone was running toward them and Merlin was abruptly called away on a healing emergency. She bid Bors a quick farewell and once again immersed herself into her work. It was a long day after that and Merlin finally made her way to dinner in clean clothes, but not a dress. She was in the ones she preferred and as she entered the dining hall that contained only the Royal Family and a few trusted Nobles, she gave a quick bow in the King and Queen's direction and then looked quickly for where she was supposed to be sitting. It varied from meal to meal that she was invited to and Merlin's eyebrows shot up into her hairline to see she'd been placed by Arthur and across from Morgana.
She took her seat, feeling instantly ill-at-ease. This was going to be an interesting night.