I sure do. They'd have made great battlefield rations, too. We could've had stuff with actual taste, not just what was most efficient.
... You know, coming here is the first time I've been able to eat with other people. It's kind of... [ Nice. Normal. Not completely and utterly isolating, both physically and emotionally, but she doesn't know how to express that in a way that isn't hideously embarrassing, so she trails off awkwardly. After a pause: ]
Hey, mouse. Go ahead and eat. I'm just gonna talk out loud, so don't worry about responding. [ Maybe it's a weird thing to offer, but she feels like she should take the burden off of Gray having to react to what she's about to say. She's been waiting for the right time, but she's starting to doubt that even exists. Either (or both) of them could have died today, and despite the nihilism inherent in the Kenoma's vision, there are some things Gray deserves to hear from her before then. ]
I'm not gonna say I understand the shit you've been through. Mages are scummy, so if they were using you as part of some weird ritual, they were probably total freaks about it. Whether they cursed you or revered you, it doesn't matter, 'cause what they really wanted was my old man. Buncha idiots, all of 'em.
[ She grits her teeth, annoyed at the thought — but for once, she doesn't let her rage consume her. One more deep breath, and she continues. ]
... When I was first sent to Camelot, my mother knew her plans would come to naught if anyone saw my face — she was right, of course, even if I had my own goals by then. There wasn't any way to hide it with a spell, so I was forced to keep my helmet on. I couldn't eat with the other knights, or drink with them. Hell, I could barely speak with them.
[ Mordred the Silent. It might sound like a bad joke to anyone who's met her since, but that was the image she'd cultivated for herself, willingly and unwillingly. Who would want to talk to a wall of steel with a bad attitude? How could she ever reach out to anyone, even at the beginning, when she so desperately wanted to?
(And then, the one person she had—) ]
To the very end, none of them ever knew the truth. The only ones that found out were my father, and his harlot of a wife. I did everything alone... all because of this. [ She reaches up to touch her own face with one finger, then points at Gray's. ] So yeah, your face pisses me off. It pisses me off more than I know how to say. But it pisses me off for you, too, even if we aren't the same. I guess I just... wanted you to know that.
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... You know, coming here is the first time I've been able to eat with other people. It's kind of... [ Nice. Normal. Not completely and utterly isolating, both physically and emotionally, but she doesn't know how to express that in a way that isn't hideously embarrassing, so she trails off awkwardly. After a pause: ]
Hey, mouse. Go ahead and eat. I'm just gonna talk out loud, so don't worry about responding. [ Maybe it's a weird thing to offer, but she feels like she should take the burden off of Gray having to react to what she's about to say. She's been waiting for the right time, but she's starting to doubt that even exists. Either (or both) of them could have died today, and despite the nihilism inherent in the Kenoma's vision, there are some things Gray deserves to hear from her before then. ]
I'm not gonna say I understand the shit you've been through. Mages are scummy, so if they were using you as part of some weird ritual, they were probably total freaks about it. Whether they cursed you or revered you, it doesn't matter, 'cause what they really wanted was my old man. Buncha idiots, all of 'em.
[ She grits her teeth, annoyed at the thought — but for once, she doesn't let her rage consume her. One more deep breath, and she continues. ]
... When I was first sent to Camelot, my mother knew her plans would come to naught if anyone saw my face — she was right, of course, even if I had my own goals by then. There wasn't any way to hide it with a spell, so I was forced to keep my helmet on. I couldn't eat with the other knights, or drink with them. Hell, I could barely speak with them.
[ Mordred the Silent. It might sound like a bad joke to anyone who's met her since, but that was the image she'd cultivated for herself, willingly and unwillingly. Who would want to talk to a wall of steel with a bad attitude? How could she ever reach out to anyone, even at the beginning, when she so desperately wanted to?
(And then, the one person she had—) ]
To the very end, none of them ever knew the truth. The only ones that found out were my father, and his harlot of a wife. I did everything alone... all because of this. [ She reaches up to touch her own face with one finger, then points at Gray's. ] So yeah, your face pisses me off. It pisses me off more than I know how to say. But it pisses me off for you, too, even if we aren't the same. I guess I just... wanted you to know that.