I don't have a thought-provoking question, but I am curious about something.

How long can you hold a conversation with a complete strange before both of you are bored of it? Do people enjoy talking at length about nothing in particular? I'm asking this because with a network like this, people seemed more inclined to speak then they usually would as opposed to real interaction. [ Someone really like the text function as well... ] Do you prefer it that way?

( Filtered to Allen Walker )
( Filtered to Kaworu Nagisa )

[ Today's video finds two faces (familiar to some) sat beside each other at the corner of the kitchen table in the New Camelot household, Arthur's hands folded comfortably across the wooden surface. He's done this a million times before, though it's been awhile since his last formal address. ]

Travellers to Asgard - friends, allies, and strangers alike - a good day to you all. It has been some time since we first stepped foot on Asgard's soil, and given the recent ... changes, in population, I feel an introduction may be in order. [ A smile, cordial. ] I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, and to my right is my idiot manservant -

[Merlin leans in toward the screen, temporarily blocking Arthur from sight.] Friend. He meant to say "friend."

[ And Arthur shoves him right back into place with a hand to his face, still smiling. ] - my completely imbecilic and utterly useless manservant, Merlin. Recent times have found us in a rare period of relative peace within the city walls, giving us time enough to find our bearings and breathe a moment's tranquility.

[Arthur gets a jab to his side for his troubles, Merlin smiling all the while.] That's why we thought this might be a good time for us to hold a tournament. Well, two, actually. One for magic and one for non-magical combat. According to Arthur, the knights back in Camelot would use the tournaments to hone their abilities and keep their senses sharp - I think it's all just an excuse to bash each other around - when they aren't waging war. And, well, since we'll be expected to fight when the Giants recover...we could probably use the practice.

[ Arthur inhales deeply through his nose, shaking his head just a little, smile gone tight. He mutters something about 'should've written a damn script' before knocking Merlin's knee with his own beneath the table and grinning charitably once more. ]

Which makes it my distinct pleasure to announce the Tournament of Worlds, your opportunity to stand amongst your peers and let your abilities shine to their fullest. The tourney will commence on Day Two-Hundred and Nineteen; you have until the day beforehand to register your name for combat. Further information can be found attached at the end of this message.

Oh! And-- [He'll just be nudging Arthur out of the way again, thank you very much.] There'll be a festival of sorts outside the Arena the day before the tournament starts. The Natives are going to be setting up some booths again, and you're all welcome to join in, too.

[ ffs this time, Arthur's just going to grab Merlin's head and shove it under his arm, driving his knuckle into his scalp while grinning at the feed. ] So! Give us your best, Asgard. We hope to see the whole lot of you there.

[ And somewhere amidst Merlin's flailing and Arthur's noogeying, the bracelet gets knocked off the table to show their feet kicking at each other until they both fall out of their seats, still wrestling with each other, and the feed ends. ]

attachments: tourney.doc; tourney2.doc

[ ooc; yay, tourney announcement! mod post is here, and sign-ups are at the linked posts. blue is Merlin, responses may come from either or both of us as we're available. cheers! ♥ ]

[Greetings, Asgard. Are you ready for this devastatingly beautiful vampire? Well, he's looking fairly haggard at the moment, actually, now that he's apparently capable of - and in dire need of - resting like a human, among other things. It's clearly difficult for him to think through the exhaustion from the way he's concentrating so intently on the letter in his hands, reading it for the umpteenth time while still barely absorbing any of what's written on it. He begins to mutter to himself, the words coming out more quickly than what might be deemed normal.]

Why would any god choose me... How can I... They can't possibly ensure my happiness. They couldn't... They wouldn't. But no, that's not at all what I-

[The bracelet catches his eye and he leans in closer to inspect it, trying to recall its purpose when he's startled to realize it's on, relief that his monologue was interrupted before he said too much washing over his features before he schools them.]

I'm sorry about this, if anyone's out there watching - I've just...arrived. [That should explain his new-found technical incompetence, if nothing else. He hesitates for a long moment before seeming to lose an argument with himself, continuing on as if certain that someone were watching.]

I'm loathe to ask for such a large favor right off the bat, but given the circumstances, would anyone be willing to escort me to - [It takes a few seconds to locate the right paper.] - Freya House? I'm told I have a room there and I'm...not myself at the moment, I'm not sure I'd find it before nightfall.

[a.k.a. "Please help me before I collapse in the middle of the street." He seems to think better of something.]

I would find some way to repay you at a later date, of course.