patiently, she had tried to bide her time as a member of this fantasy—a proud knight of the round table, who had for some short time been confused as to her own identity, cursed, as ser lancelot had asserted. and while she had slipped here and there, she firmly believes that she had played her role well enough, and now, for long enough. no longer can she afford to linger as a part of this kingdom, so different from her own, and so she had said asked: how might she return.
now, ser lancelot himself stands in front of her, drawing his weapon. the sword alone is fearsome, and together with its master, it cuts an intimidating figure, but blaze has never been one to back down out of fear. it only makes her more determined in her stance as she places a hand to her chest, reciting her words firmly. ]
I do not wish to fight you, Ser Lancelot, and I mean no insult to you nor your King, but I mustn't stay here. I have a duty to my own people, as you do to yours.
[ and she pauses, allowing the words to settle, before placing her hand on the sword at her hip. ]
But if you give me no choice...
[ drawing her own laevatein, blaze holds it out in position, meant to be her stance for dueling, but—something isn't quite right. it looks... amateur. clumsy, almost. ]
no subject
patiently, she had tried to bide her time as a member of this fantasy—a proud knight of the round table, who had for some short time been confused as to her own identity, cursed, as ser lancelot had asserted. and while she had slipped here and there, she firmly believes that she had played her role well enough, and now, for long enough. no longer can she afford to linger as a part of this kingdom, so different from her own, and so she had said asked: how might she return.
now, ser lancelot himself stands in front of her, drawing his weapon. the sword alone is fearsome, and together with its master, it cuts an intimidating figure, but blaze has never been one to back down out of fear. it only makes her more determined in her stance as she places a hand to her chest, reciting her words firmly. ]
I do not wish to fight you, Ser Lancelot, and I mean no insult to you nor your King, but I mustn't stay here. I have a duty to my own people, as you do to yours.
[ and she pauses, allowing the words to settle, before placing her hand on the sword at her hip. ]
But if you give me no choice...
[ drawing her own laevatein, blaze holds it out in position, meant to be her stance for dueling, but—something isn't quite right. it looks... amateur. clumsy, almost. ]