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Medraut's had a rough few months. Not that his life has ever been particular happy, but with Agravain's arrival just before the winter, and the whole mess with Gawain, and worrying about Melou, as he always does, and just being an extremely screwed up person in general, he hasn't been having a good time. He hasn't really spoken to Gawain, or to Agravain recently. In truth, he's been trying to shut people out -- it hurts, but it's just easier.

But he misses his family, and he's been trying, really trying, this time, to figure things and himself out. He's not very good at it. But he's given up on introspection for now anyway, and is out looking for Agravain. Because he's lonely, and however annoying Agravain can be (a lot), Medraut misses him.

so, as per title! for Agravain but if any other family or friends happen to want him, go ahead.
Medraut's been crying -- it's probably obvious. He tried not to, especially around Melou, but this is just -- he never expected to have to live through this. Or be dead through this, whatever you call it. He never expected to be there to know his children were dead. Killed, and it's as much his fault as anyone else's.

It's like when his brothers died, again. The sorrow, the rage. But this time there's no Lancelot to take it out on, not his father, not anyone. He can't even do something stupid, suicidal, because he'll come back anyway, and what would Melou do? He can't leave his son again. He couldn't take the guilt of that anymore than Melou could bear to be abandoned, even for a little while.

He's outside somewhere. Somewhere secluded, where he can weep in peace, think in peace. Think of all the things he would do to Bors, to Lancelot, if he could. There's nothing else to do in this goddamn place.

here is a Medraut, currently composed of shards of angst. post-Melou, post-Seb encounter, closed to friends and family who would like to try piecing him back together. we have a loose definition of friend due to Medraut's arsehattery, mind. if you want to chance it, go ahead, but neither typist nor puppet take any responsibility for the outcome. fyi he is all ~teary~ and has a mild facebruise from his encounter with Sebastian (which is not technically finished yet, er, but he won't be convinced ever to talk about it, so >.>)

[closed] For Sebastian

Medraut is not a particularly hard person to find, when you get down to it. Check the emo, secluded spots, and you'll probably come across him eventually.

Currently he might be discovered near the lake, perhaps. Alone, fairly out of the way. And definitely not expecting the lover he doesn't actually know Guinevere has to show up and be, er, unhappy with him.

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[anOTP: Favrielle]

Summers here are hotter than Orkney summers, not surprisingly. Medraut was an Orkney first, and somehow never quite got over his acclimatisation to the northern isles. It's too hot here.

He's currently lying in the shade of a tree, on the edges of the forest. Trying to decide if it's worth it to get up and go swimming. It would surely be cooler, but if he goes out into the sun he'll probably burn up and die, or something dramatic.

A sigh. He's hot, tired, and bored. He wouldn't actually mind having someone amusing to talk to, right now. Provided he didn't have to move out of the shade to meet them, of course.

[anOTP: Guinevere]

Medraut's not actually looking for anyone. He's just being generally sad and half-wishing there was someone who knew enough about said sadness to actually get it, any of it at all. Not that he would actually talk about it, oh no, but someone who just understood what, why, from a comfortable distance. This place makes him feel isolated, more than he ever did -- before.

He's somewhere in the Mansion's corridors, skulking around, or leaning against the wall in some ~shadows~. You know how these tortured villains are, oh woe.

[anOTP: Anita]

Medraut's not one for drinking, usually. Not beyond casual mealtime drinking or I just need some refreshment drinking. This is not a mealtime, this is just boring as hell time, and consequentially, wine.

The wine here comes in different bottles than he's used to. And it tastes different too, some of it.  Everything is weird here - but at least the drink still does its job.

At the moment he's stretched out in the general vicinity of the lake, slumped against a convenient tree trunk, partially empty bottle of wine in hand.

He's not actually drunk. A bit mellowed, though.

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[anOTP: Caranthir]

Medraut is out on one his Broody Solitary Walks In The Woods (again). He's bored, utterly sick of this place, and all there seems to be around here are trees, funnily enough, which aren't helping alleviate either issue.

He thought about looking for Caranthir's repressed place of repression hideaway, but he even if he had a clear idea where it was, he's not actually sure where he is anymore. Plan number two: wander aimlessly until you come across a recognisable tree.

"Oh, woe," he says, quietly and melodramatically, despite a lack of audience, as he snags his tunic on something prickly for what seems the hundredth time, "Even the plants hate me, now. I'm entirely doomed."

Jun. 18th, 2010

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