pawnstorm | All this bad blood here: Open job post!

Entry tags:

All this bad blood here: Open job post!

Who: Caren and you!
When: After the War, 4/20-4/30
Where: Graupera, Gresser, Palamede
What: Job stuff, including getting yelled at, meeting Servants, all that jazz.
Rating: Pretty sure we got into Rated R for fetish talk and violent thoughts in the Gilgamesh thread there

I: Vessel of hope

[It was an unusual request, but she didn't think it would be one that she could by pass. While there were some parts of the order and the church that she held in contempt, she was a priestess, through and through. Her offering was a simple one, a plain boat with a puffin candle, white and sheltered by slender glass.

A touch of mana lights it with a murmured word. And when the sun goes down, she's there with the rest of the crowd. Her boat is set down, and she starts to sing.

It's a surprisingly lovely, sweet voice-and her singing is in Latin. They are hymns, songs of mourning and blessing, things that one might hear at a funeral.

Her eyes flick to anyone who approaches. She may cease, continue until she is finished, or start singing instead 'Amazing Grace' as an invitation for anyone to join her, if they so wish.]

II: A six pack is worth a thousand pictures

A

Ah. That would be perfect.

[She nods to herself, as she focuses with her camera. This is an odd thing to take a photo off...perhaps it is of a hay bale, a plate of food, or a child crying after falling on their knees and skinning it. Really weird pictures like that. But it's not the only things she's taking a picture of. See that fountain? She's pointing you, hero, to stand underneath it.]

If you don't mind? I'd like a picture of you under the spray. I think it would be very appealing.

B

[She's hungry, but she as to pay for her meal before she has to actually gets anything. She's frowning at the riddle she was offered. It's rather...well, it's not a bad one, but she doesn't want to give up either. It's down on a piece of paper, and she's staring at it, as if it will give it answers.]

I know the answer. Just...need a moment.

[She scowls down at the paper. The locals, at least, seem amused by her. She's intelligent enough, but mostly she's stuck. She needs some orange juice or something to get her brain working but noooo, stupid town rule won't let her have it.]

III: Rebuild Palamede!

A

[She had been moping, as the usual. She was not a strong woman as things went, but she could clean. She was used to it, as things went, but the fact that the local that was showing her around didn't want to come in here...she respected that, and didn't press, for once. Caren could be surprisingly compassionate to those in need.

Which did not mean she would be so nice to those passing by. If anyone tried to walk through her recently washed floor for example...all it would take was a twist of her wrist, and she'd fling mop water at their head. With the mop.

This is slightly better than having her try and recruit someone to help her clean.]

B

[Caren hadn't asked for this. Her face was impassive as the man in front of her-heavier by over a hundred pounds, taller than a foot, maybe more. His mouth was hitched in a permanent smirk on one side, due to scarring. And, he seemed, he didn't have anything to laugh about. People had been hurt. And these heroes, these people God selected were supposed to keep them safe! They were supposed to do better then this!

There was a crowd forming because of this. And while Caren had been singing hymns and other things earlier, she had been heading in for a break. But now...

She watched him, and slowly brought a hand up to wipe at the spittle on her face. She was smiling, a little. Maybe someone wants to watch or...try to step in before something terrible happens.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Ugh.

He's doing that thing

He's doing that thing

She's not claiming to be Kirei's child for nothing. Her free hand? Is now going to cover his face to gently(?) push him away. Gil vrs Kirei 2.0. He'll get his way.

Eventually.

Sort of.

If only because it's funny.

And all this time she's still cleaning the window, leaning up where she couldn't reach before. Swipe, swipe. Squeak.]

[That's nice that you've got agency and all, Caren, and he respects that, he really does, he just doesn't care so he's going to dig his heels in the ground and go precisely nowhere and talk over her hand because when you're that loud you can pretty much talk over anything, including body parts. And people.]

Were you not dying to put your hands on my person but moments ago? Think of this as an opportunity.

[And, well, technically... he's not wrong. If she wanted to sit on him, getting into his arms first may have been a natural step in the right direction. Literally.]

[He respects that? Really? See, this is why she misses the shroud. If she had it here, she could wrap him up right now and drag him away. Or step on him. Yes, she likes stepping on him.

Caren still doesn't look at Gilgamesh as she continues to clean her share of the windows.]

I was speaking in theory.

[And, just to be annoying:]

You've forgotten your manners again. If you wanted your hands on me, all you'd have to do was ask. Politely.

[She's shoving a little harder now. His face is now her means of getting leverage for those tougher spots to get on the window. Thanks Gilgamesh.]

[You're welcome. Gilgamesh grunts, testy.]

It was merely for the sake of progress. Am I to be scolded for my pragmatism?

[Yes, pragmatism. That's exactly what it is. Not an excuse to cop a feel.]

Pragmatism? If it were that, you wouldn't have tried to lure me in.

[She smirks at him. Were you going to open your shirt next and make mating calls?

Her hand shifts away from covering his face, her palm resting solely his cheek.]

I've missed that look on your face. It's sweet.

[She paps his cheek, almost a slap, before she lets her hand drop.]

It wasn't a lure...!

[It was totally a lure. Busted. He huffs and puffs and folds his arms, turning red where she touches. But not because he's embarrassed! Just a stray bit of heat leaping to his face. Totally accidental. And so the invisible leash winds ever tight around his neck.]

Honestly. Since you are so enthusiastic about manners, I thought you'd appreciate my asking.

[...had she missed it, though? It leads a man's mind to wander.]

That was quite the way to ask someone.

[She's still smiling, amused with him. The flush on his cheeks is absolutely lovely. But...it's not enough. Not by half.]

Will you ask me again? I would appreciate it if you asked on your knees. That way I can offer a swift response to your...charm.

[Since if she did go into his arms? Bad idea. The washing would be completely forgotten. Or mostly so.]

[Point blank:]

Absolutely not.

[Nice try, though. It's something like progress, sort of.]

[Another point blank:]

Well I can't kiss you like this.

[It's progress. Sort of.]

[Well

then

he'll

just

pull on her hair. Ever so maturely. Surely that's the way to secure her consent.]

[No
No

Not at all

You see her two fingers? See them?

They're going

Right up

His nose.]

What are you doing?

WAH!

[Ow! Ow! Ow! ...but it gets him to immediately stop, so maybe this really is progress as far as taming her Servant is concerned.]

What a wicked woman you are! I shouldn't need to beg for you to give into my charms; just give in!

[She slowly raises her eyebrows. Do you want her to curl her fingers and yank? Because she can do that.]

That's your argument? Your charm lacks luster, your manners crude...

But I suppose it does not change the fact that you belong to me. What a burden.

I do not belong to anyone!

[And he's so, so tempted to clock her with that squeegee, cave her skull in before anyone else can notice, but something compels him to just let the matter go. He draws back, so returning her personal space and reclaiming his poor nostrils. Rubbing at his nose, he mutters under his breath:]

Only the filthy spawn of that man could prove this obstinate, certainly...

[It seems she has succeeded in teaching Gilgamesh a lesson. He's persistent, but he's unlikely to attempt such an obvious stunt again. Victory?]

[She starts laughing. Quietly. As if he told some great joke. If he attempted to cave her skull in, fine; she doesn't care. At least she had some fun before she died.

But really, it is a victory and that leash is slowly closing in around his throat. It's not easy, but in the end? He's worth all the effort in the world.]

I've forgotten how refreshing it is to go against a true king.

[She gestures up to the window with her squeegee.]

Now, did you need my assistance, or were you just being a pervert?

[This time, Gilgamesh concedes defeat. Heaving a sigh, he casts the same spell from before, but now tells her:]

Observe.

[The squeegee floats high into the air, directed by waves of mana. And, with that unseen hand, it begins to wipe at the spot he intended for Caren to reach. It's a means of surrender, yes, but it's also his way of showing off a little—look what I can do. Still not her Servant, never her Servant.

Yet a part of him feels the need to assert that he's indeed the true king she remembers.]

I can do the same to you, so be more mindful.

[Will he, though? Perhaps even a true king would not be so aggressive.]

[So he could do more with his spell work then just float mops around. She makes a small sound, seeming impressed. She doesn't know all of what can be done with mana around here, but it will be most certainly useful. Especially with cleaning things up.]

Impressive.

[She's not being snide for once; she's sincere. He's earned this bit of praise after toying with him. Though...his warning has her flash him a smile again.]

If you have a sword, I would prefer that. It's more personal.

[Especially if they were face to face as he did it. A blade thrust in and...she'd fall. Maybe dead before she hit the floor. Or maybe she'd bleed to death. It would be better, she thinks, if she were to die at anothers hands, if it was due to her beloved Servant.

Even if he still resents the idea.]

[Gilgamesh appears to understand almost immediately what she's getting at. He's not surprised, not exactly, but it does confirm that the gloominess he sensed earlier stemmed from a very real place. This girl was trouble, exuded it down to her core, and only a fool would underestimate her. Gilgamesh has done some foolish things his time and would in a future he'd never get to see, yet he recognizes a potential mistake here and avoids it handily.]

Do you intend to act against me and merit such a death?

[...however, he still has no qualms calling her out directly. Gilgamesh was an upfront person, even as a child. He saw no reason to beat around the bush. If she defied him, then she would die, but no matter how bad his mood got he'd never kill her just because. There was reasoning to everything Gilgamesh did, executions included.

And, as she recognizes value in him, maybe he's recognizing value in her as well. In nothing else, perhaps, but a pretty face to tease and refuse him, just as he prefers.]

No. I have no plans to act against you.

[She's smiling again. That calm, accepting smile, knowing how easy it would be to ruin everything he was doing. A few rumors here, a question or two there, and she could easily isolate him. But there's no need. And truly, she doesn't want to make him an island, all by himself.

He's already that, without her help.]

I don't plan to meddle with your life either. There's no need. But...if one day I had to die, would you do it, by your sword? I don't want anyone else to kill me.

Just you.

[He's no longer by himself. He'd insist that was the case, that he walks and would continue to walk his path alone, but others around him would insist to the contrary. This world had it made it difficult to keep saying things like I don't need anyone at all and so Caren would be in quite for the surprise when she learned that her Servant could now call those close to him comrades without so much as a flinch.

He doesn't flinch at her request, either. Someone else, someone lesser might be bothered, but not Gilgamesh. Whoever she was, whatever they were to each other back home, she clearly views him in a special light. And he doesn't mind the attention, necessarily, but accepting this just felt like another form of submission. He sees through it and singles that out, too.]

I will not play a part in your martyrdom.

[Back to the window he goes. Up, down, up, down, side to side.]

Take your own life, if you place so little value in it. The kind of Servant I am... I'd never pledge my sword to cause so unworthy.

You're too clever, aren't you.

[She doesn't flinch at his calling her out at all. He takes the attention and to him it's tribute. Perhaps she over played her hand, but really, all she's filled with is amusement at all. She doesn't know what time he comes from, exactly, but some things stay the same.]

And I am Master to the King of Heroes, whether here or at home. Don't think I am seeking to die simply because I can.

[She would not simply let herself die. No. Her life, what it is, is to be used with purpose. She takes up her squeegee again, dips it, and tries to reach what she can, on her toes. It's not that much, but she does try.]

That would be...a complete waste, on your part and mine.

[Gilgamesh says nothing.

However, after a moment, he does reach over, take hold of her wrist—gently, compared to the forceful ushering from before—and pull her up so she can reach the slightest bit higher, get the slightest bit more distance with the tool. If she has not experienced the pleasure of mana transfer before, she will now. And it might feel right. It might feel like she remembers, like a proper bond between Master and Servant.

But in time she will come to accept that they can never be that to each other ever again, just as Gilgamesh lost her father before her.]

[She accepts his touch this time.

It's better now. This is meant to reach, to help. Some part of her should despise this touch and flinch away from it.

Instead, she shivers. There was Sion's manhandling of course, eager to heal her, the touching she's done with her teasing of others to pass the time.

But this is different. She never had the command seals, but there had been the bond nonetheless. Master and Servant. Blanc broke them both. With a simple touch, she is shown a little of what loss feels like. It hurts.

It hurts in how it feels so right, like the void in her can be filled from the pain of it. The ache of it is right over her heart. In it, perhaps. It's foolish. Foolish, for even as it causes her to suffer, she relishes and welcomes the mana transfer, the reminder of what she can't even keep.

Caren, the twisted woman she is, wants more. And it shows.]

[Does sorrow engulf her? Does something so minor cause her pain, fill her with grief? Gilgamesh has no bond to ascertain for sure, but he's a predatory creature. He knows by instinct when he's hit upon a weak point, and he appears to have done so now. There's many, many ways he could take advantage of the situation, by tightening his hold, increasing it, letting his hands wander elsewhere over her body—she doesn't seem like she'd even refuse in the state she's in.

The cruelest thing he could do, in fact, would be to let go. And that's exactly what he does. Gives her a taste, and no more than that, before drawing back to his own spot and minding his own share of the window. Yet even in this cruelty his expression doesn't suggest it. He's not grinning or laughing at her expense. He's just blank. Just the King of Heroes, as he's always been, and will always be. If she wants to be his Master, so be it.

But his actions just now make it very clear: he expects courtship. Nothing may be taken for granted. For both parties, this is a prize to be earned.]

[She wouldn't refuse. If anything, she'd seek him out, try to drown in the sensation. Even if she were to go back...it was a hollow thing. She did the right thing, in the end, but she would never have Gilgamesh again. Not him, or the one that she truly misses.

It's almost like a slap in the face when he lets go. And yet...for all she inhales sharply, there is mercy in his cruelty.

It takes her a few moments. When she looks over at him, there's something new in her gaze-something curious, assessing him before her eyes turn back to the dirty glass.

There's an exchange that's supposed to take place, something given in return but...she's not sure what it is. Other then two, simple words.]

Thank you.

[They're quiet, easily dismissed. But sincere. Acknowledging what he's done-and what he didn't do.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

possible CW: death, gore

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject