fandomtownies | Graduation Brunch: The Park, Sunday, mid-morning to mid-afternoon

A banner, the letters wrapped with fresh spring flowers, hung from the trees, spelling out CONGRATULATIONS, CLASS OF 2009! No missing letters or anything.

Spread out across the park were plenty of tables and chairs, some under the shade of picnic shelters, some out on the grass in the sunshine. For those who felt like getting back to nature, there were even red and white checked blankets spread out in a few areas for old-fashioned picnic-y goodness. Lack of ants not guaranteed.

The long table that ran along next to the picnic shelters was laden with a vast ~~moddable~~ array of traditional brillig-y food, including fruit, veggie snacks, breakfast pastries, sandwiches for the especially hungry or those who arrived more toward the unch end of brunch, and a wide variety of J,GoB-catered desserts. Drinks included coffee, tea, juices and soft drinks, and while there were plates provided, there were also wee picnic-basket-shaped trays for carrying things back to your seat, wherever that might be.

A space had been cleared for dancing, if people cared to do more than just listen to the light music being played through the speakers, and there was also an area set aside for outdoor games of croquet, horseshoes, or frisbee.

Everybody's welcome. Come celebrate with the Class of '09!

[OOC: ~~Wait for the OCD. Don't make Eliza Doolittle have to cut a bitch.~~ OPEN! And no one had to get cut! It's a good day!]

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"She did," Merlin replied, not voicing why he assumed so.

"She claimed to have powers of the mind," he said, and then shifted his head to look at the boy again. "Do you know anything about that?"

They were just not going to discuss how Arthur was asking Merlin's opinion more and more these days, thank you.

Edited 2009-05-03 18:17 (UTC)

"I would assume she meant my magic," Merlin said carefully, sitting in the chair next to Arthur. "I've... been able to hear things others could not."

"Could you please be more cryptic, Merlin?" Arthur asked him, dryly.

"That's about it," Merlin replied with a pathetic shrug. "That Druid boy asked me to help him and no one else heard him speak."

"The druid boy?"

And there went all of Arthur's carefully faked nonchalance. He sat up a little.

If he thought about it, then really, Mordred had been the start of this madness (except for where it wasn't, it had been Merlin, but he hadn't known at the time and that counted).

"He called me Emrys."

"So the druids have a name for you," he said. At any other point, involving any other people, he might have said oh, wonderful, but he didn't. He tapped the edge of one finger against his glass, then took a thoughtful sip.

"It was news to me!" Merlin insisted quickly. "I'd never even met a Druid before then!"

Well, that helped soothe his thoughtfulness in absolutely no way at all. "And yet they know you."

"I don't know how," Merlin replied, shoulders slumping a bit. "I know I'm not like other sorcerers, but..."

It was just frightening.

Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose. It seemed apt. Then he took a deep breath and tilted his head enough to search for some direct eye-contact with the boy. He was... scared?

He was learning new things about sorcerers every day. "I always knew there was something," he said.

Merlin looked up to meet his gave for just a moment before looking away again. "You did?"

"There's not a great deal of idiots who'll challenge the King's own son to a battle with a weapon he can't even find the right end of," Arthur said, failing to stop looking. "Nevermind the rest of it."

"Did you read that book?" Merlin asked abruptly. "The one with--us."

"It's not us," he said, firmly, and unwaveringly. He was good at that. "I don't see the issue."

Merlin wasn't so certain about that. "How can we be sure?"

"Because I clearly have a father," Arthur said, dryly - yes, he'd read it - "And magic or not, you still don't have two bits of sense to rub together."

"I think I'd prefer to deal with you as a child," Merlin replied dryly. "Even if I did have to have an awful beard."

"That's a lie, and you know it," Arthur informed him, tartly.

"I'd be a good mentor," Merlin insisted.

"To a herd of oxen, maybe."

"Utterly lost without me."

Arthur rolled his eyes expressively. "Shut up and get me my food," he ordered, and pushed at his plate. "And get rid of these cheeseburgers. They're utterly below par."

Hint, hint.

Merlin handed over the pears he'd gotten him before and... took a cheeseburger for himself. It worked in an odd way.

"Yes, sire."

Graduation Brunch: The Park, Sunday, mid-morning to mid-afternoon

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