Jun. 5th, 2014

friendofspirits: (pic#7645852)
[personal profile] friendofspirits
[The image in the locket shows a disheveled and disturbed looking Deedlit. There is a quiet murmur of people in the background and the surroundings seem to be that of the infirmary.]

I feel as though I've been trampled by horses...How long as I asleep?

[Deedlit looks away from the locket for a moment as one of the fairies buzz by her ear, whispering something as they pass by. The look of shock that follows on her face is unmistakable and she jolts up to her feet only to feel her legs giving out, forcing her back to a sit.]

A month?! I've been asleep for an entire month?!

[She glances back to the locket then, a frown taking hold of her lips.]

...What in the world did I miss?
serving: (★ RAWHIIIIDE.)
[personal profile] serving

( Through the locket Merlin looks a little ... well, weary, if we're honest. It's not necessarily the same weariness of a young man who's been put through his paces physically (even though the recent rescue mission took it out of him), rather the slightly greying skin tone that indicates late nights, hard floors, and an over-active imagination. The only problem is that this time it's not his imagination that's to blame: it's everything else - it's this reality - that has him unable to stay still. Call it an over-abundance of nervous energy ...

That's actually only got worse since finding Arthur and Lancelot. Merlin's not exactly unused to having strangeness heaped on him but he's still uncertain about the whole thing: Lancelot died the last time he saw him, for starters, and yet here he is with no memory of it. It doesn't add up, and a simple "well, it's magic" isn't good enough for him. Merlin needs answers. He also needs to find out if only the three of them crossed over to the new realm, but asking the network seems too dangerous. Drawing attention to Guinevere, for example, if Morgana is lurking in a new and improved forest hovel, is exactly the opposite of what he wishes to do. Better handle this one with a bit more subtlety.

Still. His niggling doubts haven't kept him indoors on such a pleasant day - not least because outside he feels a little less like he's under scrutiny from every angle. It was the same in Camelot, he realises, if not for slightly different reasons, although he supposes the punishment for discovery may very well end up the same. He hopes not to find out. From his surroundings it should be clear that Merlin's ventured into a patch of thin woodland, and right now he's knelt over a frothy-flowered cluster that looks a lot like a yarrow plant.

He peers into the locket for a moment (as though uncertain it's actually working).
)

... Hello?

( He frowns, then taps it a couple of times, before deciding that he may as well continue. He angles it so that the "yarrow" is in view. )

Does anyone know what this is? I'm looking for yarrow, but I'm - um. Not really familiar with what's poisonous and what's not, here.

( The physician's bag he's wearing over his shoulder slips forwards into view - Gaius' bag, for the Camelot bunch, who should be able to recognise it immediately. He'd been out collecting dock leaves when he'd been whisked away to the Drabwurld, and as Arthur had put it, he may as well go on and make himself useful. The locket moves over it slowly, getting a few different angles, before turning back to Merlin's face, where a self-deprecating smile has replaced the sceptical expression of moments ago. )

It doesn't look poisonous, but ...

( Hey, he doesn't look like an immortal warlock. )

Always better to be safe than sorry? And I don't want to end up giving someone a rash.

( But his smile grows broad at the thought of Arthur rubbing an itchy rash into God knows where. Come on, that's funny! )

... Accidentally. Anyway, let me know if you have any ideas; I'm all ears.

( He really does set himself up for the teasing, doesn't he. Merlin offers a little nod before the locket cuts off - and if he didn't give his name? Well. He's beginning to think that, at least with this crowd, a little namelessness might save him a lot of trouble. )