ONCE AND FUTURE KING.

         Gloved digits tug at the thin, single string of his harp; the atmosphere is relatively silent, save for the harmonic sounds that come from such an action—the gesturing of his hand. There is tension in the air, perhaps due to the fact that he wished to be alone; although his face had been concealed, masked under his black cloak, the red headed knight had known who he was—such a presence could not remain a secret to him. Though it’s light in weight, he feels a particular sadness painting over his expression, a ready reaction in response to the imploring dismissal he’s given. “I am aware. Though you yet bear similarities… you are not my king.” It’s subtle, the bow he gives with an inclination of his head; while he figured his reasoning of wanting to remain in the shadows was to avoid Knights of the Round ( for the sole fact of being considered an anomaly ), Tristan could not deny that intrigue he experiences over his sudden appearance. “Since you ask it of me, know that I will not seek you out again…” As like his Lord King, the knight had no intentions of going against his request—especially since he had asked it of him so earnestly. The knight’s figure is still for a moment, before taking a step back; he means to distance their proximity, yet he finds himself inquiring for one answer to one question.

         “Perhaps it’s wrong of me to ask… you owe me nothing—I, whose shameful actions are beyond redemption… but as you must know… I sought you out because I had felt a unique, yet captivating attraction towards you.” Lips purse together as his eyebrows furrow slightly—soon after a serious demeanor clouds over his prior state of melancholy. The words he starts out with initially are but his thoughts, vocalized aloud. “You are not my King, yet you are… why is that?”

There is an indescribable feeling that wells up in Arthur's chest at Tristan's obeying of his request to not be approached again. Perhaps it's the vague familiarity the king feels towards a knight that should be his, but isn't. For while Tristan may have considered himself shameful and even irredeemable, Arthur bore no ill will against him. In death, surely he had paid more than enough for the acts he had committed when he was alive. Maybe in some other reality their meeting wouldn't be like so, Arthur wouldn't have to tread carefully and he could show his face without worry.

It's a bittersweet feeling and though his hood covers his face, there is a somber smile that brings way. “You speak so lowly of yourself, it shouldn't be so. You were a great man in life and even now, I'm sure that she would agree.” A soft chuckle could be heard after he finishes.

— protosword ( arthur )

     Despite his features being concealed ( what with the cloak that was adorned atop his head ) the man had still attracted attention, if not for the mysterious aura he exuded, then his armor, the latter of which particularly shimmering under the sun’s rays. Now surrounding him were a flock a young ladies, trying to acquire his attention—and affections, and while the young prince considers assisting him, he hesitates, feet halting abruptly. While the knight had seemed amiable, his nerves wash over him; he continues to make his way towards man and his admirers, however his anxious state leaves him without a plan. His voice comes out firmly, though his words are short, reflecting the fact that he has no course of action.

                                                               “There you are…!”

Try as he might to conceal his presence and go as unnoticed as he possibly could, women of this world seemed keen in their intuition when knowing someone was special. As much as he tries to gently goad them in leaving him be, it is to no avail as they surround him and badger him with various questions in asking his name, where he comes from, and when had he arrived. Arthur can only stand there and smile beneath his hood as he tries his best to keep his face concealed. There seems to be no way of getting out of this in a polite manner.

“There you are…!”

The sudden acknowledgement makes the women turn their attention away from Arthur and towards the man who had just said it. Thank goodness, someone had thought to try to help. Arthur wastes on time in pardoning himself from the crowd and makes his way towards the other. “I...yes! Sorry for taking so long, dear.” Emphasis on the last word, though it was sudden and he hoped the other would play along. Arthur then grabs hold of his arm.

Work is hard to come by, so he's found. Though he'd rather not resort to doing mercenary work, it seems that he has no choice in the matter. In order to make a decent living while here, this seems to be the only route that can be taken. He doesn't like it, but is slowly coming to terms with the fact of what it is he must do to survive and get by. As he stands in front of a board listing various jobs for different amounts of payment, he sighs. There isn't much variety and he'd rather not take something big if he can avoid it right now. And so he turns his attention to a woman standing on his left. She looked the part of a mercenary, attire and all. There was definitely a strong aura about her, capable of doing whatever she wanted.

“Do you...want it?”

The familiar voice of a certain rider he'd come to know previously is enough to make Arthur want to turn around and walk in the opposite direction, his armor clearly being enough to give him away in the first place. And yet he doesn't, only keeps his hood pulled down as much as he possibly can to avoid any trouble. He hopes and prays to whatever higher power that there must be that he isn't noticed. To think that either of them would meet here, it's an unfortunate turn of events and Arthur would rather avoid the confrontation if possible. But, as expected, he is told to stop and as much as he'd like to keep going, well, it's a little too late for that. Slowly he turns, coming face to face with this man.

He had very soon come to learn that sector six proved to be the most peaceful of places to be. Surrounded by beautiful greenery and even more beautiful parks to match, the residents seemed fairly pleasant compared to those in the other sectors that he'd visited. It was always so...vibrant than the rest of this very small world. The little things could be appreciated, such as watching a girl strum what appeared to be a toy instrument whilst seated on a bench as small birds gathered around her feet, clearly intent on watching her play. It was quite the sight, reminded him of days long past in how she almost looked ethereal in such a state.

He sees no need to hide his appearance from her, as he's sure that she's already caught on to just who exactly he is. While he never wanted t cause her any trouble by existing in the same universe that she had, here he is in front of her. And he'd truly intended to stay away, keep a distance and watch from afar to make sure that she was doing well on her own. “I do not belong in this world, I know.” And if he could somehow disappear, he would if only to not complicate matters even further. “I wish to steal nothing from you, your knights are yours and yours alone, I promise.”

There's always been calming factors to Arthur about the moon. Something about watching it when the night sky is clear is...relieving, as if a huge burden has been taken off of his shoulders just by taking in the sight of it. Settled into a clearing, he makes himself comfortable as he sits cross-legged on the ground, attention solely focused on that of the moon or at least he had been until he notices that there is another presence aside from his own. He turns his head, curious as to who it is as he's already figured that they don't mean to do him any harm because if they had, they'd have done something by now.

Brilliant white hair is the first thing that he notices before anything else then comes the sight of an eye patch and one singular eye that seemed to be staring him down. He figures that he should say something. 

Ever since first arriving to this world, he had long since made the promise to himself to not become directly involved with any servants if he could help it, but especially those who were part of the Knights of the Round Table. It's a bit of a touchy subject and he'd rather not cause any confusion for the Arturia Pendragon that is sure to exist in this universe as well. And he'd very much intended to keep that promise, but it's too bad that not even his hood can hide him from the ever so watchful eyes of a certain red haired man. Arthur tries his best in not making a fuss, to just pass by without anything being said between the two of them. It's Tristan who initiates conversation, which makes it harder than it needs to be.