http://consorting.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] consorting.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] taxonomites2010-05-07 02:08 pm

forma • [ holo : arrival ] • hwílum and tówearde cwén

"This isn’t the castle...what has happened?"

Shock. Pure and utter shock and a shiver are what go through Guinevere when she realizes she's not in the corridor of Camelot she meant to turn into. She grabs at her wrist, looking down when she notices the cool metal there. This was no part of the castle she'd seen before… but she didn't remember being taken away. It must be the work of magic, though this was no magic she had seen before.

She steps forward, examining the object on the pedestal that almost demanded her attention. The Tablet was an odd thing indeed. She didn't quite understand its purpose and poked at its interface for a few moments before shifting her attention.

"Merlin?....Gaius?" She yelled out into the echoing room as she approached the walls, palm first. "Where in the world am I..."

Up until then she was able to maintain that semblance of stability, but when no voices returned her call and she slipped down to the floor and let the tears flow unchecked. It reminded her of being in the dungeon, locked away and kept all alone away from everything with nothing to look forward to but an execution.

"Morgana...Arthur. Anyone!" She says through the sobs. "What is it you want of me? I have nothing of value… I am just a servant."

She hangs her head, fiddling with the Tablet in her lap. Everything about this place is so foreign to her, it’s hard to calm herself down and think. But then she remembers Morgana, one of the strongest people she knows, and thinks of what she would do in this situation. It helps her to take a few deep breaths and stand up off that cold metallic floor, shoulders back and chin up. The regal strength of a lady of Camelot; she would need to thank Morgana once she saw her again.

"My mistress is Morgana, Ward to Uther Pendragon, King of Camelot. My mistress and my king do not take kindly to kidnapping, but I assure you they will come for me." She said into the cold room, keeping a tight seal on the nerves that threatened to make her voice shake. Her hands clutch the fabric of her dress and the tablet at her sides, her eyes glassy with the fear she tried to suppress.

[ ooc • notifs are going slow for me so sorry for any delays ]

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-07 09:36 pm (UTC)(link)
"Hey - hey." Spade can't help it. A young woman in this much apparent distress, he's gotta say something. "Easy, sweetheart. No one's gonna hurt you." Which is probably true, as far as he's been able to tell. "Deep breaths, okay? Nice and easy."

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-07 10:44 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'm called Sam. Sam Spade. I'm a fellow abductee. Here - you see the little column with the doodad on top? It should have an image on it."

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-08 01:11 am (UTC)(link)
"It's okay, ma'am - I hadn't either, and I'll guess it's closer to something I had than anything you've seen." Because he can safely label her period as "old," which is all he needs for now. "Are you hurt at all?"

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-08 01:17 am (UTC)(link)
"I can tell you what it's called, but not exactly where, I'm afraid. City's called Taxon. People've been brought from all over."

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-08 01:25 am (UTC)(link)
"Six weeks, give or take. Where'd you come from, just now?"

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-08 01:38 am (UTC)(link)
He considers this, then says, "Arthur Pendragon ring any bells?"

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-08 02:16 am (UTC)(link)
Spade nods. "Haven't met him myself, but he was organizing a law enforcement group of sorts. Also sang a real catchy little ditty the other day," he adds, with a faint smile.

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-08 02:48 am (UTC)(link)
"I don't think the singing part was entirely voluntary. But no, sweetheart, I'm afraid not yet. Not that we've found so far, anyway. I'm sorry."

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-08 03:26 am (UTC)(link)
"No," he agrees, impressed by how quickly she's managing to adjust, given her initial panic. "I don't think hopeless. We're working on it."

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-08 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
"Some of us work, though they make sure you've got food and shelter either way. I spent the first week just exploring, finding where things were." He shrugs. "Kind of up to you, as long as the plan doesn't include leaving right away."

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-08 04:15 am (UTC)(link)
"Not at all. You ever need anything else, I'm a private detective. Helping out's what I do, mainly." Well, sort of. It's a good line, anyway.

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-08 05:13 am (UTC)(link)
"Hell, a man needs buttons replaced, time to time. We can work something out, if you ever need anything."

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[identity profile] mancalledspade.livejournal.com 2010-05-08 02:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"Thanks. You settle in, kid, and give me a shout if you ever need anything."

Sam Spade, hardboiled as they come: unable to resist Gwen's total sweetness.