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

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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

[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.]

I do think of it, on occasion. What has been left behind.

[Gilgamesh refers to many things. To her father. To their war. To his promised fight with Saber. To the Grail, and what laid beyond it. To his future, the future where both women were from, the future he knows nothing of. Perhaps he won and rose to great heights; perhaps he lost and fell to despair, even if he'd never acknowledge such an outcome. He doesn't know. She does.

And that's why it cements their relationship, here and now. He will keep coming back, until he finds those answers, until he understands what drives her, what would fill her with confidence enough to claim ownership of the King of Heroes. He will keep coming back and so in the end, she wins. She'll get what she wants.

Because, undoubtedly, it will not be the last time he reaches for that soft hand of hers. And he will want more, as she does. It is inevitable.]

I think of it. It feels faraway. It feels...

[He doesn't know how it feels, so he just trails off instead. But the King never speaks without reason, so there's meaning in this much.]

[Her attempts to clean stop, and she finds herself watching him again. She could tell him everything of course. What had happened. What could have been.

But telling him everything at once, while it might be what he wants...no. She couldn't do that. She does care for him, in her own, twisted way. That's why she'd want no other to see her to the end.

And it might be too much for him to take on at once. While their world seems like a dream in a blur of war, clean up, and public adoration, the fact is their world still exists. It's still theirs. ]

I'm not sure how to end that sentence, so I won't even try. But...what is the last thing you remember?

[That's important. She needs to know so there can be a starting point. A place where she can start giving him bits and pieces, where he can learn of the new epic of Gilgamesh.]

[It's a decision that's ultimately made in his best interests. Gilgamesh would never be able to absorb the idea of defeat straight away, let alone a defeat twice over. He'd never believe in the horrors wrought by Unlimited Blade Works upon him, nor would he believe he lost to some mongrel of a boy who won through sheer luck and because of his sheer arrogance. He may thirst for it, but in this case, it's to her benefit she denies him the whole truth, if only to extend her own longevity.]

I was poised against Saber, on the battlefield of the Grail. Kirei... your father... he must've been facing that man, Emiya.

[He stops as well. Looks at her too. Tries not to sound desperate, as it was a mood ill-suited to him.]

That Servant has also been summoned here. It may be to your benefit to arrange a truce with her before she misunderstands.

[He wouldn't believe her. It's best to give him the truth in droplets, pieces that he could absorb. As he settles with time, and as they get to know each other-as people, comrades, and master and servant-he may trust her, as much as he was able. She can lie, but much like her father, she prefers the brutal truth.

But it is...strange, somehow, that is already attempting to look out for them both. Or maybe not so strange. He doesn't want to lose them both. His Saber, and...his answers, if not his master.]

It's already done. We met on the ship on the way over.

[She makes a small motion with her hand, causing water to drip over her arm.]

She doesn't trust me, but it'll get better with time. I still can't believe what weapon she was given.

[The holy grail? Honestly. It was as if someone was trying to break the woman's heart.]

[Gilgamesh scoffs, a mean sound, but none of it's directed at her.]

I certainly can. This world is a farce. It takes everything from us and gives nothing in return.

[Though that's not entirely the truth. He's met people here, worthy people, that he could trust to fight alongside him. He's had many adventures, some he'd even call fun. And this official Hero business certainly beat lounging on a couch all day vowing revenge against a humanity that had corrupted itself several times over.

Actually, the truth of it was that Gilgamesh was beginning to enjoy himself. Beginning to forget his proper station, and if anything frightens him, it's the possibility of becoming too relaxed. Of distancing himself too much from the garden that was his to protect. But it's happening, and he can't stop it.

The truth of it was that it was nice to have someone at your back, a feat Gilgamesh had encountered only once before. The King was warming to others, and he hated it.]

[She raises her eyebrows silently. She's not so certain she can agree with his words-or with his sincerity. Truly, if he wanted to, he could have done something, anything, to make things suit himself better.

Even with something small, if he wanted to take back control over his life.]

This world troubles me.

[A simple statement, but a true one, one that he may agree with. It's easy to get caught up in the people, the attention. They shape the world around them and yet...this all could have been avoided. She's certain of it.

She does know her history, even if he doesn't relate to this world.]

But...I have yet to come to any conclusion about it.

[It's a polite way of disagreeing with him, in a way. A nudge, as she goes back to her window washing, moving on to the next glass plane so as to have an excuse to stay. ]

Edited (this made more sense) 2016-04-21 12:37 (UTC)

You are trying to appease me.

[But he doesn't sound too upset by it. If anything, he's amused. He also can tell she's just seeking justification to linger by this point; they didn't need two people for this job when Gilgamesh could reach twice as high and work for twice as long as she did. It's almost cute, in a way. That's why Gilgamesh allows for it rather than brushing her off outright. That's why she can stay, because the King permits it. The tables of ownership may have turned here.

There might've been something to this bond, though. But only time will tell, if those claims of hers have any merit at all.]

I may be.

[She allows it, a small quirk of the lips. They don't need two people here. They didn't from the start. What had been his attempt at toying with her has turned into something...else. More perhaps, then the simple banter of person with person.

For she's still cleaning, and leaning up to swipe away dirt that Gilgamesh could easily do himself.]

Maybe I'm doing this for myself.

Is that how you choose to live...?

[Then she really would be just like her father. A man who knew only selfishness. Who could not even look after his wife, who left his own child behind. A man modeled much in his own image, and that may have been why they got along so well—because they understood their lives to be nothing but a means towards a greedy end.

He looks into her reflection, clearing up the more she cleans, and can't possibly imagine serving beneath it. It's just too far-fetched an idea.]

Every choice is my own. Whether it is to save someone or to let them suffer, it's my choice.

[She shrugs, leaning up to wipe more up more of the window clean. It's not much, even as she tries to get herself up onto the tips of her boots. Serving under her might not be so different than serving her father. Or it might be completely different.

Even if she wouldn't be certain Kirei would be cleaning anything by Gil's side.]

All this bad blood here: Open job post!

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possible CW: death, gore

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