[Open Post] ..hell yes i mind..

[lanselos_du_lac]

It's been a long while since Lancelot felt this way: angry and adrift, too overwhelmed and in his own head to determine how best to manage it. (If Susan were here, it would be simple -- but the fact that his Susan is gone is part of the problem.) His anger is a hot stone at his center, a roiling mess, a weapon without a target. He still feels that he would like to smash something, start a fight, find some way to externalize everything all the things he could not bring himself to say to the Galahad who is far older than he ought to be, the quiet king of a quiet kingdom.

A fulfilled purpose. A completed quest. A long chain of manipulation and events that dragged Lancelot along in its wake, and that (in this other time, he has to acknowledge, not his time and not now) led only to the ruin of everything Lancelot had cared for. And for what? It makes him furious to think that the price of the Grail was Galahad's joy, Galahad's self, and that that price was somehow being paid long before Galahad was even born.

That's just the start of it; there is more, much more, and it feels like it will keep spooling out without ceasing.

His impulse, as ever, is to stalk off to his room and stay there until he feels he can manage himself. (He thinks, not for the first time, of himself ten years older and outwardly angry, angry enough that everyone sees it, fears him or dreads his company. A man who lashes out. He does not want that future, but this possibility has always been somewhere just under the surface; he's always known it. Sometimes it has worked for him, with him, but he knows that it is dangerous and there is no one in this place that he would want to bear witness to it.) If this were Camelot, that is what he would do.

Since he can't figure what to do, he settles for a middle ground. It's been a long while since he felt like getting very deliberately drunk, but that appeals just now, and so he heads for one of the smaller bars, just off the main corridor.

^{[Note: All are welcome! Those who care for Lancelot and/or those who also wish to fistfight God are particularly welcome.]}

Comments

[vineleaves]

"Causes even more stress than if you'd just let yourself feel the emotion in the first place. If you don't let the feelings run their course, it's going to just -- y'know, fester up in there." He taps the side of his head. "And then all that stress can cause heart problems too."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot takes a breath, then, "I suppose thy point may be a good one."

[vineleaves]

Dionysus pats Lancelot's chest. "We gotta keep that sweet heart of yours in good condition."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He laughs, "Dost know me to be sweet?"

[vineleaves]

"Do you disagree? You've always been nothing but nice and precious to me."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I don't disagree," still amused, "but--" Then he pauses. After a moment he says, "I was about to say that few enough have called me 'sweet,' but I think that is no longer true."

[vineleaves]

"Well, people clearly didn't know you very well before, if that's the case."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"No," more quietly, "that's true."

[vineleaves]

"Did you not have as many close friends before, as you do now?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He gives a little chuckle, "I should say not. Here, there are more than three."

[vineleaves]

Dionysus thinks that every single fact he learns about Camelot just proves that it's, actually, the worst spot for 'happily-ever-aftering', no matter what the song says. "You're such a likeable guy though. I'm sorry only three people could see that before."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot half-shrugs, "I did not much make it apparent, I suppose, to those I wasn't already close with."

[vineleaves]

"I'm glad you've been able to come out of your shell here."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"It has been a bit strange," thoughtfully. "I was quite lost, at first. But now... it is good, I think."