✿ THE HOUSE ✿
Adra's house is a cozy stone cottage on the outskirts of Caissa, close enough to the sea that one can hear the breaking waves throughout the day.
This afternoon, there's light, cool rain falling intermittently, tapping in a rhythm at the windows and roof. Fortunately, the kitchen is warm, bright, and welcoming. Its counters and tables are covered with freshly prepared foods of all kinds, and there are plenty of chairs for visitors who might like to sit and relax.
A door from the kitchen leads out into the garden, which is not quite yet fully landscaped, but which boasts a promising array of flowers (orchids, roses, lilies, tulips, etc) and herbs. Adra's also cultivating strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, and so on; the strawberries and cherries in particular are ripe for picking. Adra has strung enchanted, floating fairy lights all over the garden; they cast a soft, ethereal glow over the paths and carefully tended patches of greenery. At the garden's center, there's a clear pond filled with red and pink lotus blossoms.
Back inside, a visitor might like to rest in the den. There's a roaring fire in the hearth, and sitting near it for a short while offers a boost to the weary spirit. Soft, plush chairs and couches fill this room, making it ideal for lounging. The tables are covered with books borrowed somewhat indiscreetly from the library; they deal largely with the magic and history of Enprise.
Adjacent to the den is Adra's study. In here are half-empty bookshelves and antique rolling desk covered with neat stacks of papers, boxes of quills, and numerous pots of ink, each one in different, brilliant colors. His journal is somewhere here, too ...
Finally, down the hall one will find a half bathroom and, across from that, the door to the second bedroom--belonging to one Gilgamesh. The master bedroom, belonging to Adrasteius, is at the end of the hall. There's a full bath in there, but this room is definitively locked.
✿ THE SPREAD ✿
As usual, Adra's gone over the top in his preparations. For drinks, there's a sweet, refreshing punch; delicately pink and decorated with sprigs of flowers. There are pitchers of sparkling ice water, jugs of wine and spiced mead, and plenty of glasses to share.
Though Adra does not eat meat himself, he prepares it ably; there's a honey-glazed, roasted turkey in the center of the table, right beside a carving board heavy with seasoned, hand-carved slices of fresh beef. Red potatoes, bright with paprika and salt and glistening with pats of melting butter, are arranged in wedges around the turkey. There are woven baskets of steaming rolls, flaky and soft; platters of carrots and broccoli and asparagus; enormous bowls of belly-warming soup filled with thick wheat noodles, sliced egg, and shredded cabbage. At one end of the table, there's a plate of burgers, along with small dishes to fix them--bacon, crispy onions, sauteed mushrooms, and all the necessary condiments. He has plates of savory pies, filled with beef or pork or chicken; steamed and fried dumplings stuffed with meat and spring vegetables, plump and perfectly shaped.
The desserts are similarly extravagant: he has a plate of meticulously crafted flower and fruit cakes; some look like ripe, blushing peaches, others, he shaped into red orchids, lotus blossoms, or golden roses. He's made a chocolate tart so dark that its smooth, sugar-dusted surface shimmers reflectively in the overhead light. Cupcakes of all kinds are scattered here and there, as well as an extravagant, multi-tiered confection dripping with fudge sauce, encrusted with sliced strawberries and vibrantly colorful, fondant flower petals. There are loaves of warm banana bread; fruit tarts glittery with rainbow sugar crystals; and, under glass, an assortment of flavorful macarons baked to look like something plucked right from the starry sky.
But the most important thing about Adra's lavish banquet is this: all of the food is enchanted, laced with magic meant to inspire feelings of comfort and security. Eating it may conjure up familiar, welcome sensations or memories--nothing sorrowful or painful, and only as specific as you'd like. It could be something as simple as the feeling of a fuzzy blanket on a cold day, or as complex as a particular soothing memory. In all cases, the intended effect is meant to inspire calm and ease.
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[A haughty scoff, though it's obviously meant in good humor. Gilgamesh finds the perfect place for his favorite elf in his arms, and it isn't long before they're a lazy tangle of limbs around each other. This he likes, and this he can waste many hours away doing, lounging like royalty with a lover.
Or soon to be lover. Those rep grinds were a really hassle sometimes.]
Although... I could not say I would mind visiting your home. I'm sure you've plenty of wonders to show me that would be worth the visit.
[Plenty of wonders for him to plunder, he means. It's not stealing if he already considers it his.]
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I'm directly stating that I doubt you'd make it past the inn.
[ He rolls his eyes. ]
Knowing you, that's where you'd find all the wonders you're thinking of.
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[Gilgamesh gives Adra playful poke in the side.]
You'd keep me chasing. Exactly how I like it.
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You're right--you wouldn't find me at the inn. I have a house.
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And now I am in your house! It would seem I have won the game already. You may as well dispense with formalities and surrender my prize.
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False equivalency. I meant my house in the Court of the Sun. It's much nicer than this one.
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Tell me of it.
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It's palatial. A magister's house, given to me because of my seat on the council. Gauzy drapes, gold staircases, a bed as deep as the ocean. Rubies inlaid everywhere on the walls. All the eaves are worked with a shining filigree. A great crystal chandelier in the foyer, lit with magic.
[ Not his design choices, clearly. He sounds irritated to speak of it. ]
And aside from me, it's usually empty.
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Adra was many things to Gilgamesh, but never once had he come across as a person who preferred to keep to himself, who willingly shut himself away from the world out of distaste for others. Seeing him today, inviting so many to his home and busying his hands for their sake—maybe this, Gilgamesh realizes, was what he'd wanted all along. Company. Family. Togetherness.
It made them somewhat of an odd pair, as Gilgamesh was no caretaker. He behaved selfishly and for his own ends. He considered humans in terms of their value to him, personally, rather than assigning them any inherent worth. He could not act in the same capacity that Adra did, because he had no interest in doing so.
But Adra, Gilgamesh realizes, was a person meant to be with people. And the thought does make him smile, just a little.]
Do you feel empty now, little sun?
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No. But I don't know how long that will last. Or if I'll remember it, once it's over. Once I'm back doing what I need to do.
[ He has a murderous brother to take care of, after all. ]
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[Gilgamesh phrases it like an order, wrapping himself about Adra's shoulders. Nuzzling insistently close, refusing even the idea of being ignored.]
I forbid you to forget. I am simply too important.
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[ He's surrounded, right now. Gil's warmth, his clean scent, the softness of his hair. Adra exhales quietly. ]
And what about me?
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[But it may very well be one his more cleverly veiled lies. His bold little smirk gives nothing away.]
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I suppose it's out of my hands, either way.
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[Although that doesn't mean he will. It may very well have been a lie, simply because even Gilgamesh recognizes there are forces beyond his control here. A startling prospect, for one accustomed to being in charge of everything, but he's had more than one humbling experience since arrival. Somehow, he's managed to stomach it.
Gilgamesh shifts on his side to stare at Adra with eyes so intense, they put even a blood elf's to shame.]
I want to give you what could not possibly be forgotten. You know of what I speak.
[Of what they've already spoken, of back at the spring. Just in vaguer terms.]
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[ To both points.
He leans in, smiling gently. Benevolently. ]
And I know what I want, too.
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[And thus, Gilgamesh sets himself up for failure. Every. Damn. Time.]
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I want you to get the hell away from me.
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Interesting.]
This foreplay is rather bizarre. You might consider a different turn of phrase, lest I misunderstand your meaning.
[Wooooooosh.]
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Does the name Jiroutachi ring a bell to you?
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[Suspicious, but not actually false. Gilgamesh could remember just about anyone... when he chose to. This name just wasn't all that meaningful to him, despite spending time with him earlier. In fact, if he hadn't come at all, Gilgamesh isn't sure he could place said name to a face. Gilgamesh's attention span was an awfully fleeting thing.]
Has he visited some great wrong upon your person? You speak of him as though cursed.
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He ran right up to me. Grabbed me, kissed me. Told me you sent him to do it. Described me specifically, even.
[ Short though his attention span may be, Adra knows that Gilgamesh is well aware of Adra's particular issues, and he has little doubt that he's comfortably acquainted with this person's attitude, too. ]
Remember yet, Gilgamesh?
[ His whole body is suddenly tense with anger; he digs his fingers into the bedspread, as though ready to claw it open. An untoward hug is no big deal for most people, but for Adra ... well, Gil knew. He knew. ]
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I told him to tease you a bit, but nothing quite so severe as what you described. He acted of his own volition; I did not force his hand in any way.
[Calm, rational explanation: check. Next up, the apology. Apology, apology, hm... how to go about apologizing... oh, wait. Gilgamesh doesn't do that. Ever.]
If you are upset, it is understandable. I cannot, however, claim responsibility for another man's actions. Your anger is misguided.
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He digs his fingers in, feeling heat rising in his blood, feeling fire. His eyes spark. But the more Gil talks, the more Adra just feels his stomach drop. Feels that yes, Gilgamesh is speaking truth--more truth than he realizes.
Adra bites, hard, into his lower lip.
His voice is quiet; hard. Unhappiness roils in his gut. ]
You really did know what he was like, then. And you know what I'm like. You know that I ...
[ It's still terrible for him. Terrible, to be grabbed suddenly, to be pushed like that. He had felt needles in his skin the whole time Jirou touched him. ]
Get out of my room.
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[Gilgamesh will comply. He gets up; he backs away. He won't push for his presence where it clearly isn't wanted, not in this case. But his gaze remains hard, unyielding. Gilgamesh was stubborn, so much so that he frequently refused fault for his actions. But where was the fault in this? For the mere suggestion of something, that someone happened to follow up on, just because? How astronomically absurd.
How unfathomably ridiculous. Even if he went against his own principles, there wasn't anything to apologize for here. Not that Gilgamesh was willing to own up to, anyway.]
I know you to be stronger than this. You cannot fall apart whenever someone in this world accosts you, Adrasteius, you will run out of pieces to pick up.
[And he may be overstepping himself, but at this point, it must be said.]
You must work through it. You must overcome it. Or else you truly will live the rest of your life in fear.
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