The moment he wakes up, dawn in his ebony-clad armor. The Knight rises without so much as skipping a beat. He gets up, moves along the bed with metals crackling together and immediately stands to. The image of the inn goes uncared for, unsolicited it is an item that the Knight could honestly care less for it. The air of familiarity, puts him off but it does not stoke the flames of concern away from him, and his desire to ground himself immediately less he grows mad with madness becomes urgent.
He steps and each step he takes is a march of diligence through the halls of the inn. Heavy, present, and authoritative in a manner of speaking. Almost as if he were a Knight within a castle, ready to make his way to his King. Except there is no King here, there is no Master, and he is mildly aware of his form having little to no connection to anything but himself. An eerie sort of feeling for one who is a Servant, and regards himself no less a familiar and weapons tool to his master.
Perhaps you see him marching, and leave him be perhaps not - you may stop him at that point or attempt to. He is helmed and no face is present within at this time, but he stands tall at six feet and 5 inches.
If you do not stop him and somehow come across his march, he will suddenly start opening every door in the inn room and looking within it. If the door is locked, he will knock on it. If it isn't he just opens it and walks in briefly to look who is inside.
Lancelot is good at cutting the roots of flowers, but he is weary of them. His eyes catch them and he hears voices bickering in his mind about his actions and existence - he is already a foil to himself. It is easy to get the Knight of Madness upset - easy to hold his heart and corrode it, but he is with his shield in his arm and attempts every time to look away. Yet sometimes, he lingers and thinks the voices are right. Thinks the things he sees are real and at some point - he will suddenly come upon you in the dead of night, or in the sudden dread of day, with a beautiful ebony lance that glimmers in silver and blues catching whatever light hits it - and nearly struck deep inside of you.
In his realization he will always - veer back but if it is in your instinct to attack back, then so be it! Let metals clash!
If you are unmoved he will draw his weapon away, and let it disperse in flickers of magic, "Forgive me."
Is his only statement, for his heinous actions.
𝖎𝖎𝖎. IT'S ALRIGHT [ ooc: Potential for noncon mention & sexual abuse, infidelity bc he is lancelot and he fell in love with another mans wife, agonies of a knight who has outright killed people in his madness, shit like that. ]
Lancelot does not run he marches -
Disgust embeds itself deep within the pits of his stomach. The reason for Camelots downfall, you killed great men - many a man with your hands. You broke the heart of Gawain, and cost the final battle of Camlann greatly, because you struck him down. Guinevere even when you saved her could not stand to look at your face. Your existence is heeded as if it were false and fake, you are no real person and no less great than Charlemagne - you are
The Knight thought the forest a sanctuary - not for himself but for others away from him. Knowing his feelings were coursing unwell through him, he was likely to go mad by it. It is unfortunate that it is like this for him, his saint graph adhering to the horrors within his story. To such a strict and stalwart way. If he cannot calm himself - he will no sooner fall to ruin, and let his own feelings lay havoc on whatever is around him. Not by his design, but by the way he was interpreted and written. He comes to the forest to hide away and agonizes in silence the way these whispers eat away at him.
Lancelot is full of anger and annoyance, and with the smallest of sounds, he will turn to you. If you are unfortunate enough to be stuck by his countenance, he will veer his attention this way and call for you, "Show yourself."
Anger was deeply embedded in the sound of his voice.
or -
Maybe instead you are already at a point where he is Madden, and there is a dragon there before you. Angered and full of want for destruction, tearing trees apart, ripping away at the fog - get him out. Get him out!!
𝖎𝖛. I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU
He will just stand there, like a suit of armor on display. Staring, watching, uneasy. Quiet.
[ witchcess makes hand motions i guess. oh right u can write however u want btw ]
Lancelot du Lac | Fandom Fate OC
𝖎. WAKE UP
The moment he wakes up, dawn in his ebony-clad armor. The Knight rises without so much as skipping a beat. He gets up, moves along the bed with metals crackling together and immediately stands to. The image of the inn goes uncared for, unsolicited it is an item that the Knight could honestly care less for it. The air of familiarity, puts him off but it does not stoke the flames of concern away from him, and his desire to ground himself immediately less he grows mad with madness becomes urgent.
He steps and each step he takes is a march of diligence through the halls of the inn. Heavy, present, and authoritative in a manner of speaking. Almost as if he were a Knight within a castle, ready to make his way to his King. Except there is no King here, there is no Master, and he is mildly aware of his form having little to no connection to anything but himself. An eerie sort of feeling for one who is a Servant, and regards himself no less a familiar and weapons tool to his master.
Perhaps you see him marching, and leave him be perhaps not - you may stop him at that point or attempt to. He is helmed and no face is present within at this time, but he stands tall at six feet and 5 inches.
If you do not stop him and somehow come across his march, he will suddenly start opening every door in the inn room and looking within it. If the door is locked, he will knock on it. If it isn't he just opens it and walks in briefly to look who is inside.
No words, only ~ AGONY ~.
𝖎𝖎𝖎. HEY
Lancelot is good at cutting the roots of flowers, but he is weary of them. His eyes catch them and he hears voices bickering in his mind about his actions and existence - he is already a foil to himself. It is easy to get the Knight of Madness upset - easy to hold his heart and corrode it, but he is with his shield in his arm and attempts every time to look away. Yet sometimes, he lingers and thinks the voices are right. Thinks the things he sees are real and at some point - he will suddenly come upon you in the dead of night, or in the sudden dread of day, with a beautiful ebony lance that glimmers in silver and blues catching whatever light hits it - and nearly struck deep inside of you.
In his realization he will always - veer back but if it is in your instinct to attack back, then so be it! Let metals clash!
If you are unmoved he will draw his weapon away, and let it disperse in flickers of magic, "Forgive me."
Is his only statement, for his heinous actions.
𝖎𝖎𝖎. IT'S ALRIGHT
[ ooc: Potential for noncon mention & sexual abuse, infidelity bc he is lancelot and he fell in love with another mans wife, agonies of a knight who has outright killed people in his madness, shit like that. ]
Lancelot does not run he marches -
Disgust embeds itself deep within the pits of his stomach. The reason for Camelots downfall, you killed great men - many a man with your hands. You broke the heart of Gawain, and cost the final battle of Camlann greatly, because you struck him down. Guinevere even when you saved her could not stand to look at your face. Your existence is heeded as if it were false and fake, you are no real person and no less great than Charlemagne - you are
The Knight thought the forest a sanctuary - not for himself but for others away from him. Knowing his feelings were coursing unwell through him, he was likely to go mad by it. It is unfortunate that it is like this for him, his saint graph adhering to the horrors within his story. To such a strict and stalwart way. If he cannot calm himself - he will no sooner fall to ruin, and let his own feelings lay havoc on whatever is around him. Not by his design, but by the way he was interpreted and written. He comes to the forest to hide away and agonizes in silence the way these whispers eat away at him.
Lancelot is full of anger and annoyance, and with the smallest of sounds, he will turn to you. If you are unfortunate enough to be stuck by his countenance, he will veer his attention this way and call for you, "Show yourself."
Anger was deeply embedded in the sound of his voice.
or -
Maybe instead you are already at a point where he is Madden, and there is a dragon there before you. Angered and full of want for destruction, tearing trees apart, ripping away at the fog - get him out. Get him out!!
𝖎𝖛. I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU
He will just stand there, like a suit of armor on display. Staring, watching, uneasy. Quiet.
[