When she had first been summoned, the young girl had found herself excited. Someone out there had needed her strength - to help protect the world, of all things! However, as time went by, she began to..notice some things.
Some things being a woman who looked like a perfect replica of herself, if not a bit taller. Arturia Pendragon, the King of Knights, she soon discovered was the woman’s name. What a grand title. Shouldn’t meeting her future self cause some sort of shift in the universe? If it did, it certainly was not obvious. Many strange things had happened in her life, but this would take the top of that list.
Questions and scenario’s had zoomed throughout her mind after discovering, well, herself. What was it like to be king? Did King Arturia know of her presence here?
Was I happy?
Arturia always pictured it like a family reunion of sorts. She would run over, and give the elder a hug, while the King would smile warmly down upon her and greet Arturia like an old friend. However, that was a naive daydream. If anything, it would be awkward, both probably at a loss of what to do. And yet, she still longed to meet the elder, to listen of her grand adventures, no longer having to admire her from a distance.
Even though it may end terribly, she yearned for a connection with someone. Chaldea was filled with servants like her, and yet she felt no intimacy with any of them.
You’ll never know if you don’t take the chance.
Swallowing, Arturia stood abruptly, determination filling her - followed with a twinge of anxiety. If anything, at least she’d have a story to tell when she returned. “Guess what I did today? I met my future self! Haha, crazy right?”
Primary: Rapier, worn but well-cared for; hidden blades, one belonging to her father and the other belonging to a now-deceased ally.
Secondary: Flintlock pistol.
> Camille is an insomniac. She has trouble getting to sleep and staying there, rarely sleeping for more than three hours a night. Many of those sleepless nights are spent writing: Camille details every day that goes by in journals, making sure not to miss anything.
> When speaking English, Camille has a very noticeable Parisian French accent.
> On June 30, 1794, Camille was supposed to go to her death, sentenced without trial to the guillotine under false accusations of counter-revolutionary activity. Indeed, most thought she was beheaded and buried in one of the mass graves- but she was not. A look-alike died in her place, as she had escaped and was already on her way to England by the time of the execution. As such, many of her friends, family, and allies assume her to be dead. She is certain that it is better that way, but misses them dearly.
let me tell you about the time i tried to stalk my friend robin’s first smut rp
there i was creepin’, reading her smut she was doing with her rp partner
this was like months ago btw
so i had told her i was creepin on it and apparently she and her partner decided they didnt want me to read it anymore, so in ONLY ONE OF THEIR NEXT POSTS they used really bad writing and really bad alternate words for genitals
like i swear to god one line went “and he stuck his long dong into her nyan cat”
i literally stood up and was like “OH MY GOD NO I CANT DO THIS IS THIS FOR REAL I FEEL SO BAD FOR ROBIN” not knowing that she had planned it
so i walk up to her the next day with this look on my face that said “i am so sorry for your shitty smut rp partner” anD THEN SHE TOLD ME THEY HAD DONE IT ON PURPOSE