pawnstorm | [Open] The Mapo Tofu affair

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[Open] The Mapo Tofu affair

Who: Everyone! If you can smell it, you can find it!
When: 6/8-610
Where: Hall of Glory Parlour in Caissa
What: Caren found out she can make mapo tofu and is sharing with everyone. Heaven help us all.
Rating: So far none but will change when things happen.

THe Halls of Glory smell a little different today. Instead of the usual fare that the others might know from the weekly menu, there's a different scent. Something that may remind heroes of Airy, Ma Jiang dishes, or maybe, more simply, of home.

This was the result of Caren's cooking and some hunting on her part. And the results may be quite appealing. There are pots of rice, still steaming, and various bowls filled with the result known as mapo tofu. Some of them are spicer then others, and she hasn't seen fit to label which are very spicy, and which are quite mild. The only thing she has labelled, with a rim of green around the bowls, are the vegan variations, for those who can't, or do not, eat meat or meat by products.

Consider it a game of spice roulette. Because there are other bowls as well, with crushed cucumber-hot pepper salad, spicy tofu, and something that has spewed spinach and garlicy noodles within. But hey! You may be able to cool off with one of the pots of tea around the place-or with one of the rare tubs of ice cream of various flavors, kept chilled with an icy spell.

The cutlery and bowls are disposable, and there are trashbags to clean up after yourself. She's not going to do it for you!

But hey. Who can say no to free food?

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[...not exactly where he was going with that. He's so surprised that he's forgotten all his anger, leaping upon immediate curiosity instead.]

Truly? Tell me more.

[Nope, but that threw him off enough that he wasn't going to break her neck over getting a bowl of mapo tofu.

Not yet at least.]

What do you want to know more? How I survived, or the details of those deaths?

Everything.

[And it's a bit shameful to admit, but...]

You fascinate me.

You're full of flattery today.

[She shakes her head, but she doesn't refuse him.]

Technically, I didn't. But it was the time anomaly; I could die a number of times within that cycle, but when it reset, I was alive once again. But since I was inserted into an empty role, I remembered. Every time I died, I remembered what it felt like.

Once, it was simply a matter of staying too close to Angra Mainyu, and I could not suppress my body's reaction to demonic presences. Not only did I die, but the person I was supposed to be protecting did as well. It was one of the last things I recall from that instance. I regret that.

[A shrug. Moving on.]

Another time, Rider-Medusa-became a little too affected by her surroundings, and attacked me. I couldn't defend myself, and it was...over and over, right in the guts.

It might have been elsewhere too, but that's what I recall the most. It's rather painful. I think she kept missing the veins and arteries that would have killed me quickly on purpose.

[She reports it calmly, as if this is nothing to her. Old news, and she doesn't even have the scars for it. She remembers. And that's all.]

[Gilgamesh listens calmly. None of it really triggers any faint sense of empathy he might have; he doesn't feel sorry for her, and he knows she wouldn't want him to. Even so, he's able to make one very succinct conclusion that hints at some fleeting emotion.]

You are cursed.

[A cursed body, a cursed soul. It was unfortunate, but it also truly marked her as Kotomine's daughter. In a sense, it was to be expected.]

Do you feel that pain here? Or has this world also freed you?

[Honestly, she hated the attempts for empathy. His words, his statement was far more comforting then the attempts to soothe or offer some sort of pity. In fact, she smiles faintly.

Kirei had been (cursed) blessed by God. It was only fitting that she was almost, but not quite the same.]

I no longer bleed, no longer bruise. In fact...I haven't had a mark upon my body since I changed ranks.

This world has freed me just as it has chained me. It seeks for me to become something I can not be, while offering the chance to enjoy and bestow suffering as it sees fit.

[Her smile becomes a grimace.]

What say you? Are you cursed, or blessed by this world of heroes?

I have not yet decided.

[But his own little smile—little, but proud—all but gives away the honest truth of the matter.]

It really is the precious few with you.

[Adra, and who knows who else it was. It doesn't surprise her. What does is the...anger that she feels.

No. That doesn't make sense. He was never hers to keep. Not here, not then. She never did receive anything, because there was nothing to give it too.

Angry and confused at herself, she wordlessly started to put the food away. She didn't want to give lessons anyone. She didn't know why she thought about it in the first place.]

[Gilgamesh doesn't necessarily pick up on her anger, or the reason for it, but he senses there's something... amiss in her reaction all the same, watching her turn away like that. So as ever, he probes a bit further without much consideration for those turbulent feelings, as he did often with her father to amuse himself.]

Did you have a precious person...?

[What an awkward question. He's even smirking a little, too.]

[A, that sore spot. She remembers then, that near aight where she mistook Sion for another. Adras tattoos of that same person. Her movements slow, and quicken then, anger rolling off of her.

It confuses her, still. And that makes her even more angry. She wants to break out into violence. Instead, her voice becomes frosted. Evil intent tangs the air.]

No.

[She wants to hurt him. But she doesn't. The way she wins this, and everything else is control.]

He's gone, and he didn't truly exist at all. Besides. I cannot have those things. We both know that.

[It is certainly tangible. So much so that Gilgamesh can't help but comment on it.]

You cannot have them, and yet you want them so greatly, it brings you to hate. How curious.

[She offers him a calm, placid smile.]

Isn't it?

[Still smiling, she continues, even as she continues to put away what should have been their cooking lesson. Her hands do not shake. But there is still that soft broiling hate in the air.]

I want to tear you apart for asking that asinine question. It's quite particular.

You want to tear me apart for hitting too close to the truth.

[And as if to throw salt on the wound, he adds:]

Just like your father before you.

[Her eyes widen.

It's a near thing. Her hands clench into fists. If she had still been a pawn, her nails would have drawn blood in her skin, but instead dig into her palms.

But after a few moments, she lets her hands relax. Takes in a deep breath. And speaks in a too calm voice.]

I am not my father.

[One word. Just one. Just enough.]

Why?

[It's enough.

She snaps.

She doesn't quite recall how she turned on him so quick. She knew she shouldn't be fast, shouldn't be graceful on reflex. But she moves, and at grabs Gilgamesh's shirt to draw him in.]

What do you think? He gave up his false world. He had his happiness. What do I have?

A Servant.

[Gilgamesh tilts his head, inquisitive. Utterly unaffected by that snap of rage; utterly unfazed by her grip, simply staring back at her.]

Is that not what you claimed to me?

[Her grip tightens. Damn it damn it damn it. Damn it. She wants to tear out his heart.

And perhaps due to the spice in the air, the emotions she's unused to, she...wants to howl. Let it turn into...

No. Not that.]

You were always mine.

[Her body shakes, once.]

But you knew him first.

[Gilgamesh reaches forward to rest his hand atop her own. It's not... encouraging, necessarily, or empathetic, but it is calming in a way. He enjoys poking and prodding at people, and would never apologize for it, but he recognizes some deep hurt in her that he'd stoked and seems to be soothing it a little. Sometimes even Gilgamesh could abide limits, or else he's just ensuring he doesn't push so far she'd run off outright. That wouldn't be much fun.]

There was nothing to know.

[Just a vast emptiness. An eternally black void. Entertaining, maybe, but when compared to someone like Caren...]

And there is nothing for you to have. Nothing that you have earned quite yet.

[He got her distracted at least. There's still the mana exchange, and it's still painfully pleasurable. Even more now, that her emotions are high. She grimaces, and her grip loosens.

What was she? She didn't know.

Her cheek twitches.]

Didn't you come to tell me your first challenge?

[He knows her body too well, thanks to their heated little foray at the springs. His fingers dust over her knuckles, encircle her wrist, rub along her fragile arm. Yet she's stronger than him, now; once he could've snapped it, but as a Rook, she could easily resist. But even so, it seems like nothing has changed, that he has her in a bind, caught in the web, with fangs posed to devour. Claws ready to strike at that deepest part of her.

Perhaps he really was hers, as this was exactly the sort of Servant she deserved.]

Yes.

[And shockingly, he cracks a small smile.]

Craft that dish you promised. The dish of my people. We will spend the evening together, as though we were partners; that will be your first task.

[Was it a joke...? As always, it's hard to tell with Gilgamesh.]

[Maybe it was the best servant for her. The servant who embraced her, pushed, and pushed and pushed. The one who could strangle her and leave her helpless.

The one she is most vulnerable to and yet...it was not one sided.

Her grip loosened and dropped, as her expression changed. Almost...perplexed.]

Are you telling me my first task is a date?

[Just...checking, even if he had been smiling.]

Impress me.

[Date confirmed. And he could not possibly look any smugger about it.]

[Well, technically it's not difficult but....]

I'm not wearing a maid's dress.

[This is why he's got her by the arm, isn't it? So she wouldn't punch him for being a little snot.]

You will if you want the bonus.

[...maybe it's better not to ask about that.]

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CW: violence, gore, death

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