pawnstorm | [Open] It's getting hot in here

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[Open] It's getting hot in here

Who: Caren and anyone visiting the hot springs!
When: Post dungeon, could be right after fail/success, could be days after
Where: Hot Springs of course
What: There's a hot springs, so now there's a hot springs episode.
Rating: Could be a p-13 and beyond because some people are only wearing towels in this place.

[Win or fail, everyone needed a reason and a way to relax. With the fall of the towers, there was all sorts of good things to come from it. Some would say it was the birds; and others would say it was the hot springs.

The large, large pools of heated water. Sure, they could be used as a way to get all steamed up (or even steam punk) but after all that hard work, everyone deserves a break!

Bring your swimsuits, your towels, your drinks and snacks-who knows, you should be able to find them in the bazaars, or even on Airy. It's time to soak in the heat!]

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[She stares up at him, quite calm and knowing that for this insult (even if she trembled a little from mana deprivation) she was going to get tossed into the springs. But it was quite worth it, to have that moment of him getting laughed at.

She considered, flicked her fingers as if preparing for a spell (or flicking water off) and folds her arms over her chest..]

I considered a moustache made of ash, but that would be a waste of mana.

[She's still mulling it though. Quite seriously even.]

You, little urchin, are simply a waste in general.

[And it sounds spiteful, and it sounds mean, because it is, but it doesn't sound murderous. Hostile. Heralding some sort of attack. He just starts toting her off to who even knows where, holding his cargo like a precious thing that cannot be spilled for any reason.

Really, he's contemplating if he can turn any of this water to ice with his magic and then dump her in it as he walks, but the more he thinks about it the more he realizes he'd just playing straight into her expectations anyway. And damn if he isn't cold because of that awful little stunt.

Maybe a girl this wicked really could hold him in check. She certainly was doing so now.]

Urchin, is it? I haven't heard that one in some time.

[She's rather amused at him, even if he's taking her away from all of her stuff. Though...at least this way she isn't being dumped, murdered, or otherwise maimed? She'll take it as a victory.]

I like it better with your hair down. It suits your childish face.

[Just. Dump her somewhere Gilgamesh. She's clearly begging for it.]

[But that would be too easy, wouldn't it? Gilgamesh finds an appropriate spot, at the edge of a smaller, secluded pool, and considers his options. He could throw her in. Or he could bash her skull in on the edge of a rock and leave her rotting corpse for the buzzards. Or...]

It isn't childish.

[...or he could, in a fit of explicit childishness, cling to his claimed treasure and simply take her into the water with him, just like that. Holding her close and refusing to let go, even if she did deserve it. Even if he couldn't tear her apart, as she also deserved, with his arms occupied.

He holds her and it is very childish and it is probably more symbolic of their relationship than anything, that her Servant would refuse to accept her as a Master yet still express fondness. And it is fondness, in a form, that he deems her worthy of being touched by him at all.]

[Far too easy, and she would, in her own way, win. Even if she ended up as food for the buzzards, she would win. But this is...it is and isn't a game, having her held like this, in his arms. Away from everyone else. From the generosity that she had planned to share, with everyone else.

For all she is not deemed worthy of the title Master, he's still claimed her as his. Truly, they are possessive people.]

You haven't seen it when you lose your video games.

[She shifts slightly in his arms, the better to lean against him. She could have tried to squirm away at any time, gone for a spell that offered pain and suffering. But no. Other then the slight adjustment, she's completely fine being carried around like a favourite toy.]

It's one of my favourite expressions. Although...I suppose the rest of the time your face is more...

[She considers, frowning in thought. What would be the best way to describe his face? It's difficult to say.]

...why couldn't you have learned from your father?

[He interrupts her bitterly, but if she truly knew him so well, she'd recognize that is once again not the sort of bitterness that preceded violence. He sounds frustrated, more than anything, listening to her speak of himself. He'd conceded that she knew him in some capacity, but knowing him was different. And she was talking as if knowing.

It makes him uncomfortable. It makes him uncertain, what to do, so of course he falls back on his ego.]

I am the sort of Servant that betrays. I would not look out for you, or your best interests. You are a tool to me, a means to amuse and nothing more. That is the sort of future that awaits as my Master, and you cannot deny that you have no control over it. I am a King, and you, quite literally, are a pawn.

[His grip tightens around her slender form. So small. So breakable.]

Give me an answer. A real one. Why do you have want of me? What purpose would a contract even serve?

[...this may have been the real reason he took her way from the others. Her expression fades from the amused tolerance, to something more grave. She enjoyed teasing him with little bits, and he teased her in turn with giving her something she could not have. At least, not yet, according to him.

She takes him, and his ego seriously. The tightening grip doesn't frighten her. Her eyes seek out his instead. Golden, soft and the type to draw in the unwary. She never needed eyes like Medusa. Hers were dangerous enough without petrification.]

You speak as if I have been considered nothing more than a tool for someone else my whole life.

[She says it calmly, because to her, it was true. Her hand, for once, is brutally gentle as she reaches to touch his cheek.]

But you were my partner, my means to the end. Just as I was to you. And I find it difficult to ignore your significance.

My wish is to have it acknowledged. For I know, should I ever return to the world, while you may not forget me-I will forget you.

[For all she's said, in return Gilgamesh asks only thus:]

And what was that end?

To return Angra Mainyu to the void.

All the Evils in the World...

[That... no, he doesn't even need clarification. That must've been it. That must've been the sum of curses he saw for himself within the Grail, before they ever even poured out. Nothing else could've amounted to such wickedness, to flow across the earth and taint whatever it touched. Gilgamesh looks a little startled, but he covers it up quickly. Should he ask for more detail, for his part in things? Should he demand the rest of the story she's left out, here and now?

Somehow, it didn't seem right. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together, slowly, but snapping it all together at once—she must've seen it as too much of a shock for him to handle. He bristles a bit at the idea, yet it is true. This was meant to be a time for relaxation, and he had other concerns in this world occupying his attention.

His arms loosen. She could leave him, if she wishes.]

I see. I acknowledge your intentions, at least, as good.

[Ironic, given how he would've fought them in a future he'll never see.]

It does not align us any more than before. But there are worse uses for my power.

[She could see it. A little more, coming together. Another piece, and another. She doesn't know what Saber could have, or would have told him. Then again, Saber, Caren well knew, would not let her jaws be pried open for anything if she did not will it.

And with the golden archer, she would be far less likely to speak. It's good to know that even in a different world and different timelines...some people were so predictable.]

Heh.

[She doesn't leave his arms. But she considers him, with her arms folded across her chest.]

You speak as if I were a school girl, pining for my beloved. I'm almost insulted.

[A bit of well-timed humor does him serious good. He lightens up immediately, and teases her back with a slight sneer:]

Certainly so; of course you should love and adore me, as my Master. That's just the sort of Servant I am.

[Since she had the opportunity to excuse herself, and does not, Gilgamesh reads this as an intentional response. His arms entrap her now, turn her to pull her flush to his bare chest. His face may yet be as legends foretold, mocking and righteous and all confident as the King would always be.]

I find it almost a shame, you knew me as a mere child. Surely we would've had much more fun together otherwise.

[It wouldn't due to have him sulky. Their relationship is a troubled one at best, more like a storm if nothing else.

Still, she finds herself inhaling quietly, her eyes widening. And, for all purposes, cursing herself internally for not wearing a swimsuit. Having him see her body, whether the towel comes off by accident or peeled off seems...almost premature. And most certainly unfair.]

Almost a shame? We had our own kind of fun. It just didn't end up in the bedsheets, and we preferred it that way.

[After all, he was a child, and she had work to do.

But here, pressed flush against his chest she could feel the thump of his heart against her skin, and feel her body want to respond. But she tried to hold back. Stay cool and in control. Those tyrant eyes did not need to fill with more mockery.]

Oh? And do you prefer it that way at present?

[He asks, while snaking a hand beneath the end of the towel. Up and along her thigh, coming to rest just shy of where it shouldn't be. Fingers drumming upon her skin, but doing no more for the moment. At least she has that much to preserve her dignity; without it, she'd be in trouble right about now.

Then again, maybe he wouldn't.]

Do you find me too disgusting, arrogant, vile to bring to your bed? Are you a proud enough woman to refuse me, or...?

[He thinks they both know the answer to that one.]

[As if he didn't already know the answer. She huffs at him, stiffening as she feels his hand going where it shouldn't be. And settling there. She should hit him. Should use a spell on him that would embarrass him, even between the two of them.

Her hands tighten into fists. Her face feels far too hot.]

You shouldn't ask such obvious things. It only makes you look foolish, and I know you're not a fool.

[She doesn't look away. Even though she very well knows she's blushing and is having a hard time controlling it.]

[Gilgamesh, being no such fool, does not tip his hand too early. He remains still. Stares her down with those insufferably striking eyes of his. He could touch her, and he could easily bring her to beg, as he'd nearly done upon his desk, but she should know him better than that. Should know he savors the chase more than the prize.]

Then what am I?

[It's not a stalling tactic. Not really, anyway. He's truly curious what she thinks of him, beyond just claiming him as her Servant.]

Magnificent.

[That...wasn't what she had meant to say, and she chomps down on her lip, displeased with herself. She knows him well enough; knows that refusing him to her bed would spike his interest.

But this? He didn't even have to work for this touch of his ego. It irritates her enough that her head dips forward, and she huffs an annoyed breath. She can taste a little blood. She must have bitten too hard.

Damn.]

[Well, that was one way of putting it.

Blood does not hold the same draw for Gilgamesh as it once did, as it no longer brought him any form of power, but instinct has him leaning forward to lap it up anyway. It segues into a sharp, demanding kiss, deepening the tiny cut into a bigger one and providing more for him to feed from.

Which he does, eagerly, and he nearly steals all the breath from her before letting go. His own lips are red by the time he's done.]

You lied to me.

[Or at least didn't divulge all of the truth. His eyes narrow.]

You have want of this body, as well.

[She doesn't resist. There's a mental tug a war, wanting to pull back, lean forward; she does both, letting him worry the tiny cut into something bigger.

She's dizzy and light headed by the time he pulls away. Her blood is on her lips. There's something funny about it-hilarious even-but she can't be certain as to what.]

Your point?

[Her eyebrows raise. Somewhere, in the midst of the feeding, her hands found themselves on his upper arms.]

It is not a high priority.

That implies it is a matter of some priority.

[He does level with her, however. Useless, impertinent women, he would use and abuse and throw away without a second thought; but if Caren had managed nothing else, she had established herself as different. He may get angry with her, but he won't strike her simply because. He may impose upon her, but he won't push her down and ravish her as she cries for mercy, just for the thrill of it.

Tempting as it might be. Gilgamesh brushes away some of the blood with his thumb, lapping it off.]

If it is of no priority, you may take your leave.

[It will be her only chance to do so. Unlike before, he's hungry, and it's a harder urge to resist in questionable states of dress.]

[He could have done that, shortly after they met. Dismissed her completely, used her and abused her. She might have encouraged him, if the mood struck her, in either form.

But here and now, it's different. They've established something. Whether or not it was the survival high, being close to one another, or just the blood on their lips, there's fuel on this fire.

Her eyes narrow, displeased with him...and she says nothing. If anything, her grip tightens on his arms.

She could walk away. But that wouldn't be the truth. And lying about carnal desire was quite...stupid, in her opinion. Best to just acknowledge it, and get it out of the way.]

[Interesting. Interesting, though not entirely unexpected. Effectively having been given the go ahead, his grasp shifts, from simply holding her to... well, holding her about the waist, intimately, with both hands resting upon her hips. She's a small thing, certainly, but it could be said Gilgamesh preferred his women on the smaller side, so it worked out for the best.

They hold her there, but they do wander, along her sides until he's quite shamelessly taken hold of her breasts.]

I cannot possibly be the first.

[He lets the context hang, for a moment, unspoken, then elaborates.]

Who else has had the pleasure of taking you?

[Caren shared that with Saber: a small body, with seemingly delicate lines. But she's quite sure that the once and future king wouldn't have made the same noise that Caren just did in having her breasts handled by Gilgamesh. Caren allowed that with his touch, she could have a physical reaction, and show some sign of approval.

But not too much.]

As of late?

[No, he's not the first by any means. The thought that he would be was laughable. But she'll be honest with him. She did not quite realize that the golden bull knew who she was about to mention.]

Minato.

[YO THIS IS GETTING NSFW AS SHIT

the rest is over here if you want to stalk, losers]

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[Open] It's getting hot in here

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