[ There is some getting used to when one has been (dead? let's say asleep.) asleep for over a thousand years. He came sputtering back into life from the calm, ever quiet world of wild woods and the occasional but rare fire-breathing dragon into one that roars constantly. It is a world composed of constant sound and motion and it scared him half back to death for the first three weeks.
Three weeks of Merlin explaining, teaching, showing him a world that didn't even believe he really existed.
Language came first, of course, and listening to Merlin talk had been helpful enough. Then came clothes, food, globalism, and history. So many wars, so much bloodshed and death, for what? For this chaos? And of course who could forget technology (Toasters were a shock). It was like a whole world run by magic, except it wasn't magic, oh and Merlin was a Wizard who was alive all this time, how about that?
Needless to say it's been a long few months.
Even with all of that preparation for living in a world that presumably needed him again (how exactly? How was he supposed to affect any sort of change in his bloody world that was so far beyond him?), nothing could prepare him for this. Open minded he's always been, sure, willing to reconsider his opinion on magic for all that it was worth and all the trouble and pain it had caused him in his life, but this?
All he can think of us Morgana and his father, and it makes me sodding (that's a word, right? A new one? sodding?) uncomfortable. He stares around him in a mixture of confusion, discomfort and just a bit of gut fear that he can't shake. Namely, that face he makes, as if he's looking into the sun and judging it for existing. ]
I'm sorry, I don't think you saw the plant that tried to kill me. Are these Addamses royals? I thought you said America didn't have royals. What sort of castle is this?
no subject
Three weeks of Merlin explaining, teaching, showing him a world that didn't even believe he really existed.
Language came first, of course, and listening to Merlin talk had been helpful enough. Then came clothes, food, globalism, and history. So many wars, so much bloodshed and death, for what? For this chaos? And of course who could forget technology (Toasters were a shock). It was like a whole world run by magic, except it wasn't magic, oh and Merlin was a Wizard who was alive all this time, how about that?
Needless to say it's been a long few months.
Even with all of that preparation for living in a world that presumably needed him again (how exactly? How was he supposed to affect any sort of change in his bloody world that was so far beyond him?), nothing could prepare him for this. Open minded he's always been, sure, willing to reconsider his opinion on magic for all that it was worth and all the trouble and pain it had caused him in his life, but this?
All he can think of us Morgana and his father, and it makes me sodding (that's a word, right? A new one? sodding?) uncomfortable. He stares around him in a mixture of confusion, discomfort and just a bit of gut fear that he can't shake. Namely, that face he makes, as if he's looking into the sun and judging it for existing. ]
I'm sorry, I don't think you saw the plant that tried to kill me. Are these Addamses royals? I thought you said America didn't have royals. What sort of castle is this?
[ He stops, and looks back at Merlin. ]
The punch.
[ That has to be a noun not a verb. ]