Entry tags:
Open | action
That he walked his trusty steed Rocinante through doors is not by far the strangest thing to happen to Don Quixote, the bravest, most honorable, most stalwart of all knights in the history of Knight Errantry.
Even, that he is suddenly in a new place might not seem so strange to the Knight, who, as those with a penchant for the wonders of the Romance as a genre of literature can attest. After all, magic is a staple of such books. (They are also what drove our brave, honorable stalwart knight from his very wits.) It is a good thing he is clad in his armor (which is rusted, barely holding together and very heavy)!
It is a lovely place, he finds, after all. Bright and warm with lovely flowers and a field of clover that beckons Rocinante closer. The horse, who, in Quixote's mind, is the most valiant of all steeds, is actually a poor, old sway-backed hack who would very much like to only roam through the clover.
The old man and the old horse wander further and the man can be heard exclaiming, "Sancho! I say, Sancho, it seems we have found a new adventure." He does not look behind him to see that his squire has not made the journey to this place with him. "Surely, this will be a place wherein I can honor my fair Dulcinea with deeds worthy of her name!"
[enter one Don Quixote de la Mancha, fighter of windmills and sheep, man bereft of his wits. Please keep him from the flowers and his horse from the clover?]
Even, that he is suddenly in a new place might not seem so strange to the Knight, who, as those with a penchant for the wonders of the Romance as a genre of literature can attest. After all, magic is a staple of such books. (They are also what drove our brave, honorable stalwart knight from his very wits.) It is a good thing he is clad in his armor (which is rusted, barely holding together and very heavy)!
It is a lovely place, he finds, after all. Bright and warm with lovely flowers and a field of clover that beckons Rocinante closer. The horse, who, in Quixote's mind, is the most valiant of all steeds, is actually a poor, old sway-backed hack who would very much like to only roam through the clover.
The old man and the old horse wander further and the man can be heard exclaiming, "Sancho! I say, Sancho, it seems we have found a new adventure." He does not look behind him to see that his squire has not made the journey to this place with him. "Surely, this will be a place wherein I can honor my fair Dulcinea with deeds worthy of her name!"
[enter one Don Quixote de la Mancha, fighter of windmills and sheep, man bereft of his wits. Please keep him from the flowers and his horse from the clover?]

no subject
He may not even have a pocket. But he finds such as these. "I am sure this has been let here by the Black Knight! What is this place, again? Is it here La Mancha?"
no subject
Myrnin watches with an amused smirk on his face as he watches the man from beneath the wide brim of his hat. He doesn't make any move to safe guard against the man falling off the horse, though if he had fallen Myrnin certainly could have caught him had he cared to. He doesn't argue with the man nor does he hurry him, simply lets him find the bit of technology on his own. Perhaps it's because he'd had a similar experience upon his arrival. He had been fortunate to have some experience with cell phones before arriving here though. Claire had even taught him to text back home.
Myrnin's eyebrow arches at the man's words. He recognizes a few of those words. He tilts his head to one side, examining the man with a renewed vigor. "Itinere and no, I don't believe you'll find it's in La Mancha. You've just come from there?"
no subject
no subject
"Island worthy?" Myrnin asks, the smirk still playing at the corners of his lips. "I am Myrnin." He is sorely tempted to add the Lord and of Conroy, but he doubted either of those would mean much to this man. Besides his Conroy was no more and the queen that had made him Lord is long deceased. "And might I ask your name?"
no subject
no subject
Well, he's exactly who Myrnin thought he was. Of course, Myrnin thought he was fictional as well. Never the mind. Stranger things and the like. "Well then, I shall assure you this place is worthy enough an adventure. I believe you'll agree if you stick around a bit."
no subject
no subject
no subject
"It is my experience," he adds, "That dark knights do like the night, as it matches the pitch of their souls."
no subject
Myrnin can't help but snicker at that. "Indeed it would. However, not all dark knights are bad. Simply misunderstood."
no subject