PARADISA LOST

[Arthur hates this place. It's not particularly unusual, because there's been lots [read: every] place in Paradisa that he's been sent to that he's found something to dislike about it. Paris is a modern city, which is the biggest strike. It's also loud and busy, with flashing lights and more of those infernal cars, though he's learned enough not to attack them. He's not prepared to spend a night in jail, no matter how much of a death trap they are.

So he's dressed in modern clothing, as that's all he's been given to wear, appropriate for the weather, standing on a curb waiting for the light to change. He's wearing a set of shades, despite the time of evening due to the fact that he's had it pointed out just how badly he hides that one of his eyes no longer functions. And he's staring, with an eyebrow coolly arched at a man doing an imitation of...

He's not sure, actually. He's dressed in what looks like imitation metal, painted in metallic colours and making sounds that remind him of whenever Timcanpy gets a hold of the remote control.

What. The. Hell.]

[[ooc: open for kissing, or just chatting, or mutual blank staring at the robot guy]]

This had better be wonderful, Morgana, because this is the last thing I would like to be doing.

[He's lounging on Morgana's bed, waiting for her to finish getting ready, idly picking at the loose threads on her bedspread and occasionally batting her kitten's paws with his index finger] It was the worst date of birth I'd ever had, it has beaten the year I was in a coma.

[So the fact that you're making him celebrate it belatedly is something he is severely unimpressed with. Seriously, you better be wowing him, best gift, best food, best conversation or your Christmas gifts are going to be coal :|]

[Now that he‘s finally gotten his attention, he‘s leaning forward in the chair he‘s placed before the cell, elbows braced on his knees, staring hard at the figure that not too long ago cut an imposing figure] Do you know who I am?

[His eyes finally meet the other man's, half lidded in both exhaustion and impatience.] Of course I know who you are. You were nearly one of Frostmourne's own.

Now we are getting somewhere. [He doesn‘t really expect much of a response out of this, he‘s just goading him] And this is what they’ve chosen for you? Sit you here to rot?

[A soft grunt -- he doesn't seem at all phased by the insult.] I suppose so. Nobody seems to be interested in sharing details with me.

[That‘s alright, an argument isn‘t really what he‘s after. The conversation is what he wants] Your own fate no longer concerns you. Does that not bother you?

[He's honestly pretty bored, and annoyed by therapy. He's removed himself to the bedroom he's claimed for the duration of this loss and closed the door. An issue has been bothering him for awhile, and while the castle is seemingly quiet it would be best to work it out now]

[Filtered away from all villains, First Gens, or anyone affiliated or willing to share information to them;]

I will be direct. Our safe zones as they stand are utterly ineffective. The ones within the castle are simply a kitchen, and a library. They are quite easy to get into, and not very easy to escape from should the need arise. In the case of the latter, it is too large to fortify properly, even if such a thing were possible. And people have unfortunately, been killed within them before.

The one within the city is a singular building, and while it is effective, it will not hold everyone. The outposts, should not hold such a purpose either. With the ever looming threat of the residents here, or these 'First Gens' out there, we should create quite a few more. Located away from the castle, and within the Dead Zone, should an expedition turn for the worst.

They must be tested and capable of keeping those out with various abilities. The castle has a habit of tossing strange creatures at us frequently, we should be as prepared as possible.

[A pause, and he taps his pen] I would require those with a knowledge of the Dead Zone and it's various locations, those with a knowledge of technology or...Magic capable of fortifying them adequately, those that can design buildings or do such labour. Those who would be willing to supply them with weapons, food, medical supplies and keep track of such things should the worst harm come to them beyond our ability to predict...

I will not turn anyone who has a means of helping away. Simply leave your name, what you wish to help with, any ideas you might have here. We have gone long enough without adequately ensuring the children or others here are safe, I wish to waste no more time. As soon as I am free of this idiotic loss I am suffering, we shall convene in the ballroom to plan further.

If you wish to contact me directly, I am Arthur Pendragon. I think you for your consideration or aide in this matter.