Iskandar couldn't have chosen a better time to start his new life. He had never said no to festivities of any kind. Had, in fact, organized a lot of those himself. So he doesn't need to be coerced, or even convinced much, to don a white robe, sing and dance with all that wish to accompany him. He has a strong voice and is a surprisingly adept dancing partner for a man of his stature.
All the decorations, the food, the floral elements remind him of the Artemisian mysteries, and he's quick to reveal that to any that are willing to listen. Even if he can hardly expect that they will know what he talks about. It matters little as long as everyone is having fun, doesn't it?
Iskandar eyes the pomegranates with suspicion. Old habits, even the ones from a previous life, are hard to break. Those particular fruits make him wary, even if there's no need for that here. He has no such reservations when it comes to other food or iced tea. The latter making the naturally very friendly King of Conquerors even more so. To the point he might become a bit of a nuisance.
A Dim Reflection All well that ends well, but Iskandar can't tell this about the later time when he happens to encounter a mirrored surface. Is it a piece of polished ornament? A suddenly still surface of a drink. He can't remember. He can only remember recoiling from the horror he's seen there. A bare glimpse of the red-mist monster, he'd rather keep buried deep down. The one that threw a spear at his friend in anger, stained the hooves of his cavalry horse with the blood of the Thebans, the one that laughed when the palace at Persepolis burned, the one that dragged his people through the Gedrosian desert and watched them die of heat, thirst and exhaustion. Vicious, cruel, cold, ruthless to the point of sadistic. A tyrant, a monster. It makes his eyes all red, like the blood that he never hesitated to spill. It makes his voice sound colder, draining the warmth even from his signature booming laughter, makes it sound sinister now. Iskandar hates it with a burning intensity. But he also knows, and knows with bone-chilling certainty, that it is him too.
Wildcard [I didn't write a prompt for the Dreamword (The road not taken), but Iskandar has plenty of choices he made that could have ended in tragedy, many places he could have died, lost friends and loved ones, or make a grave mistake. I could write a starter if there's a demand for something in particular.
Other than that, the world is your oyster. Iskandar is a flexible guy, pretty good in many scenarios. I can be poked on bitweaver or through PM for all other plotting needs.]
Iskandar - Rider | Fate/Zero | Paleblood
Iskandar couldn't have chosen a better time to start his new life. He had never said no to festivities of any kind. Had, in fact, organized a lot of those himself. So he doesn't need to be coerced, or even convinced much, to don a white robe, sing and dance with all that wish to accompany him. He has a strong voice and is a surprisingly adept dancing partner for a man of his stature.
All the decorations, the food, the floral elements remind him of the Artemisian mysteries, and he's quick to reveal that to any that are willing to listen. Even if he can hardly expect that they will know what he talks about. It matters little as long as everyone is having fun, doesn't it?
Iskandar eyes the pomegranates with suspicion. Old habits, even the ones from a previous life, are hard to break. Those particular fruits make him wary, even if there's no need for that here. He has no such reservations when it comes to other food or iced tea. The latter making the naturally very friendly King of Conquerors even more so. To the point he might become a bit of a nuisance.
A Dim Reflection
All well that ends well, but Iskandar can't tell this about the later time when he happens to encounter a mirrored surface. Is it a piece of polished ornament? A suddenly still surface of a drink. He can't remember. He can only remember recoiling from the horror he's seen there. A bare glimpse of the red-mist monster, he'd rather keep buried deep down. The one that threw a spear at his friend in anger, stained the hooves of his cavalry horse with the blood of the Thebans, the one that laughed when the palace at Persepolis burned, the one that dragged his people through the Gedrosian desert and watched them die of heat, thirst and exhaustion. Vicious, cruel, cold, ruthless to the point of sadistic. A tyrant, a monster. It makes his eyes all red, like the blood that he never hesitated to spill. It makes his voice sound colder, draining the warmth even from his signature booming laughter, makes it sound sinister now.
Iskandar hates it with a burning intensity. But he also knows, and knows with bone-chilling certainty, that it is him too.
Wildcard
[I didn't write a prompt for the Dreamword (The road not taken), but Iskandar has plenty of choices he made that could have ended in tragedy, many places he could have died, lost friends and loved ones, or make a grave mistake. I could write a starter if there's a demand for something in particular.
Other than that, the world is your oyster. Iskandar is a flexible guy, pretty good in many scenarios. I can be poked on