[Semi-Closed Post] Sadmas Aftermath

[lanselos_du_lac]

Rather suddenly, after this latest mansion event or incursion of unexpected visitors, Lancelot will not be seen around and about as has come to be usual for him. He is not drilling in the field in the mornings. He is not in the café seeking pastries or companionship. He is not around the kitchens or libraries or, seemingly, anywhere.

Lancelot keeps to his room. If he bathes or shaves or uses the bathroom, he does so carefully and avoiding anyone he might meet. If Laertes leaves food outside his door, folk will find it still there later in the day. If anyone knocks, he will not call them in. He lets the mansion provision him with bread, cheese, water-- sometimes wine or whiskey -- but he doesn't much want any of it.

He cannot bring himself to speak to anyone. He cannot bring himself to do much of anything at all. The best concession he will make, with the understanding that there are those who will worry, is that he does not lock or bolt the door.

[Typist note: Anyone who might be really worried about Lancelot's sudden disappearance or withdrawal is welcome! Post is "semi-closed" really only because a character would have to deliberately decide to enter, and no one will stumble across Lancelot by accident.]

Comments

[lanselos_du_lac]

He puts on a thoughtful air. "Wanted to know of thee, now. Said thou'rt a stripling at court, which I suppose thou wast. Said, too, that Gawain's brother, Agravaine, was newly come to court and had fought with thee," most of this comes out in a tipsy tumble, "I told him thou was my friend, here, and happy, which pleased him."

[sagramore]

"Agravain and I fight all the time," dismissively. "He doesn't like it when I flirt with him. And thou'rt right, I am happy."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Seems not much has changed, these two months, aside from young men come to court to be made knights. Gwen is not speaking to him, because of some other argument," he pauses. "Aside from my love for them, and that I miss them, such that it pains me like a physical wound, I cannot say he gave me much reason to miss it."

This is definitely a by-product of the palinka, though it's sincere in its way.

[sagramore]

He laughs again. "Aye, nothing changes."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I am glad thou'rt happy. Laertes as well. I thank thee both."

[sagramore]

"Thank him." As long as Lancelot stays in poking range, he's going to poke, although at this point he's drunk enough palinka that it's more of a light kick.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I did," laughing a little at the kick. "I'm thanking thee."

[sagramore]

"I gave thee no leave!"

[lanselos_du_lac]

An expressive shrug.

[sagramore]

"As I said before. A judgement on me. I hope I have preserved thy heart in alcohol enough that thou canst live, since I have future plans for thee."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I may yet live," he allows, "but what plans hast thou?"

[sagramore]

"I've already told thee. An thou canst not remember, that's on thee."

[lanselos_du_lac]

His brow furrows as he casts about for the recollection. At last he says, "Carousing, I think, with Grantaire."

[sagramore]

Sagramore laughs. "Well done."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"See?" He taps his forehead. "I am not clever, but not so far gone."

[sagramore]

"I stand corrected, aye."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Shouldst take this, though," handing back the bottle, which is nearly empty.

[sagramore]

"Should I? Very well." He takes it back only to finish it off, and hops down from the table, pretty steady all things considered. His next errand is to go looking for Lan Wangji.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot stands to see him off, and though he is somewhat less steady he does seem better than he did. "Be well, sir."

[sagramore]

"Be well, my friend." Then he heads out.