(no subject)

[gwenhwyfar]

What is my real existence, I wonder. Some sort of bitter queen that runs off to the love she never has? A druidess to ensure the survival and to see the old ways flourish? Become a great queen and lead her people equally with her king? Or become like my dear teacher, Myrddin Wyltt, and become a recluse in the forests?

Why do I always wish for the latter?

Why does every road set out for me leads to pain except an existence where I'm hardly ever known? Perhaps, maybe someday, Gwenhwyfar, not Regina, will find an existence beyond some scourge and wretchedness. Truly, there is no hope for my kind, not even when the Christian god tries to drown us.

Comments

[charge_sword]

Prattle, prattle, ignorant nonsense! Fate is a foe to slay and only those with pitiful hearts bend their knee to it. The future is what it is made into. No solution more complex than the swing of a sword is ever required, in the right hands with the right force!

And cease calling me a pure blood, whelp. I've no idea what you mean by it but it rolls from lips like an insult.

[gwenhwyfar]

You call it more complex than a swing of a sword? And yet you say slay fate. Your words contradict one another, pureblood. I've already said: it is not that simple. I have the freedom to muse if I want to.

And that is what you are. A pureblood. A demon. I am a half-blood, a nephilim. It is what we call your kind.

[charge_sword]

I have already said that it is that simple. Fate dies as easily as anything else I choose to kill. You're further proving your tendency to babble on topics you've no knowledge of by labelling me with such an inappropriate title, so if you must muse, do so in a less irritating manner.

[gwenhwyfar]

I am sorry, pureblood, but apparently you don't seem to understand what you speak is contradictory. That's quite fine, your lot can't seem to grasp the concept that you do not speak nor act on behalf of one being. Perhaps you ought to mark your territory elsewhere, hm?

[charge_sword]

I see you are deaf as well as stupid. I speak truths you prefer not to hear so you may wallow in uncertainty like it a comforting coat. You know, the least you could do is sing your stupidity, like a professional fool.