@sanctummilitis​ has come forth
Sitting at the edge of an apartment building’s rooftop, legs hanging over the side, Arthur allowed his eyes to drift shut -- quietly enjoying the brisk evening air. This was a stressful situation, but to be able to take solace in moments such as these...it brought him peace, a kind of serenity he’d never known in life.
Yet, he was not the only one who’d lived that life. No, there was another such as he.
She had walked his same steps, breathed his same breaths, saw his same sights; indeed, the Spirit Origin of King Arthur was beholden to not one-- but two distinct individuals.
The King Arthur that was He and the King Arthur that was She were of their own particular qualities, but there were certain parallels between them that made themselves known time and again. It seemed this simple pleasure was one of them.
Arthur wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected, how to feel when he felt it drawing near-- that presence all-but-identical to his own coming closer. So, she was also in this place... Had she felt his arrival? Was she aware of who she was closing in on? He couldn’t help but at times to wonder if she saw the world the way in which he did.
A small smile crossed Arthur’s face. By all accounts, this particular interaction should be awkward at best and outright undesirable at worst. Yet, he’d managed to make it work within his own ability.
Bringing his hands down to his neckline, Arthur tossed his hood over his head as he was want to do in this person’s presence, casting his face in shadow. It was his own little showing of recognition, his deference to the one who “belonged” in the world he was but a stranger to.
In his own world, he was the King of Camelot. Here, the crown was hers. He was but a Knight of the Round.
He shifted to the side where he sat, turning to acknowledge her arrival properly.
“...Well-met once again, King of Knights.”
