He can practically feel the teeth already. But, he's stupidly curious now as to what the other exactly took away from their simulation encounter. It's very obvious he took away... something between this and the look in his eyes before fading off, but Masamune had the slightest idea what it was. The only advantage he has now is that he's aware of several possibilities... but that helps him narrow it down none. They are all perfectly possible takeaways.
...Time to put his hand on the live stove, then. ]
I would care for nothing more.
[ The young lord makes a face even as he sends the message. That was such a lie it wasn't even worth typing but he figures it's good enough for Gilgamesh. Regardless of how Masamune feels, the fact is still the same: he's going to take the invitation.
--And regret it, probably, but at least he feels better knowingly going in and probably getting himself screwed rather than going in oblivious. Sometimes, Masamune is just a hardhead that is going to walk into the trap knowing it's a trap because why not? ]
So Gilgamesh sets his trap. He drapes a fine cloth over the table; he calls forth the golden goblet and a pair of glasses polished to a fine shine; he lays out little hors d'oeuvres and then simply sits back and waits, as promised. Much has changed; nothing has changed at all. Gilgamesh plans to keep him; Gilgamesh plans to set him free.
Gilgamesh will look at him when arrives, and gives away absolutely nothing with his expression. Perhaps the simulation is long behind them; perhaps they never left it.]
So you came.
[Gesturing to the seat beside him, he sounds neither surprised nor particularly pleased. As if announcing the weather or reciting some dreary headline.]
Really impressive, Masamune thinks to himself. He isn't normally intrigued by such things—treating a guest you invite properly is the least that can be done a host in his home world. It's expected and thus more likely to gain attention when absent— but he didn't know Gilgamesh had it in him to even attempt such a thing.
So, color this dragon a little surprised, enough that, beyond his courteous nod towards the king's greeting, he remains quiet. When asked to sit, he politely does so with proper grace. Manners are not something Masamune lacks. He knows them inside and out and, as the current head of the Date clan, uses them when he chooses to further relations and when he chooses to destroy them. Masamune's personality, however, does not feel a need to give manners consistently or even extend them to everyone he interacts with. Here, Gilgamesh receives manners because Masamune is impressed with his setup—meaning he can't read the Servant even in the slightest despite having more than enough experience to hazard some kind of guess.
Once seated, he opts to keep his attention on Gilgamesh rather than wander. He's waits patiently—
( —for the wine. For the topic of discussion. For the stringing along until it's all exactly how Gilgamesh wishes it. For the grand reveal of actual intent.
For the real entertainment that will follow after such. )
The dragon smiles pleasantly at the king despite the other's seemingly apathetic behavior towards this meeting. That's all okay; the amount of teeth that would be visible-- if Masamune only curled his lips back into the grin it really should be rather than forcefully keeping them hidden by a subdued smile --will keep up that part of the charade for the both of them. ]
[Not really. Gilgamesh threw parties all the time back at the imperial palace, and for even less fanfare than this. He was equal parts adventurer, ruler, and entertainer, and could assume any role well enough; the Gate makes it an easy endeavor, and he's minding his manners, at least for the moment. With Gilgamesh, things tended to go south rather fast, but he has no intention of scaring off a guest he went out of his way to invite.
He sizes him up silently, dips his head in a quiet sort of thank you for the praise Masamune doesn't feel necessary to extend aloud. He pours out the glasses, and keeps Masamune waiting, and waiting, and waiting. For the wine, for the topic of discussion, for the stringing along and the grand reveal. Much has changed, nothing has changed at all, and so Gilgamesh remains his same slippery self, sliding through Masamune's fingers before he can get a firm handle on just what he's playing at here.]
I must say, I expected a messier result.
[Once again, Gilgamesh doesn't tip his hand immediately. He lets the words linger, reaches for his own glass for a slow, indulgent sip.]
Some gore, to be certain... a degree of anger... frustration... but it was all so well-concealed, so eerily composed. I applaud your decorum, truly.
[ This reminds him a bit of meetings with the elders of his clan's council, where everything was said by saying nothing at all.
The way the Servant drags things out is well noticed-- the elders did this often for their various reasons, too. While Masamune doesn't wonder if their intentions are somehow similar, he does sense it's testing his patience now as it did then, all the same. He's still young, and even now it's trying, particularly with how he also still can't get a hint of what this is about.
That's unfortunate; Masamune had been hoping he would have been able to pick up on something before Gilgamesh actually got to the step of drinking his wine.
Damn.
Eyeing his own glass but not yet daring to entertain it ( --not until he has an idea or, at the very least, enough trust he won't overdo it too fast. His reputation with alcohol has never been for social purposes or with moderation--), the Date lord looks to Gilgamesh. ]
Ha? Wouldn't that have been too boring for you, anyway? If it went the way you expected it.
[It's the first honest thing he's said so far, and it isn't much. Gilgamesh seems content to sit there in relative silence, drinking his wine, staring at Masamune with those indecipherable eyes. Is it to make him uncomfortable? Maybe. Or maybe it's a subtler form of admiration, given that no pushing and prodding follows, no tease of the tongue. A quiet Gilgamesh was a Gilgamesh that, for better or worse, was thinking and thinking hard.
After a few minutes, his hand drifts to Masamune's wrist, fingers just barely grazing skin. Stroking along in faint motions that are scarcely even there. And then it becomes apparent just what he's up to and why the finest silk and lace have been busted out for a seemingly innocuous occasion.
Gilgamesh appears to be seducing Masamune in earnest. Not even an attempt, really—he's already quite confident in his victory.]
What were you waiting for, dragon? Enjoy yourself.
[Though it might be a little difficult with a serpent lurking right over one's shoulder.]
[ At first, Masamune stares back. Although he only has half the sight of the Servant, his gaze still lacks nothing. He looks away only because he finds himself wondering what he could be thinking on so intently for such a long time. So, he looks to the table and the food placed out and the wine glasses containing an alcohol so rich in color it could blend with blood.
He only turns back to Gilgamesh when he picks up the sensation from Gilgamesh's fingers, them reaching the needed absolute threshold just enough to leave that strange feeling ghosting along his skin. The touch is as mercurial as its owner and despite his best efforts, it does manage to coax an involuntary shiver from Masamune.
That shudder makes him self-conscious enough to reach for his own glass now, in hope that engaging in something less idle will prevent that reaction from happening again.
Gilgamesh wants him to enjoy himself, huh? It's true it's hard to do in this situation where such a thing lurks behind him, but one way to eliminate that discomfort is to focus very much forward and on the wine. If this wine is anything like the potency of red wine he's had back home, this isn't going to take long.
There is a moment where he considers asking about how strong this is in comparison to other red wines. It doesn't hurt to know a little more about what you're diving into. That moment passes quickly, though, as he brings the glass to his lips to take a taste of it.
Does he care to know? Not really. Even despite understanding what's going on here, he decides to continue playing along. His smile is so many emotions that its.a good mask. But one thing about it is clear, as well as the emotion expressed in his eyes now: It's playful. Curious. Masamune won't be backed into a corner so easily, but he may ultimately be willing to have it happen, nevertheless. ]
You're right. Where to start to do that sort of thing, then? [ if it's a damn good seduction Gilgamesh executes, he'll probably go with it. The young Date lord is aware this is dangerous, but he can't help but want to see where things head. For now, it continues. ]
[The true purpose behind it all was damningly simple: it was a test. A trial to see how Masamune handled being treated as an equal, or as near to it as Gilgamesh would ever consider him, and how he managed kinder attention. For Gilgamesh, this absolutely qualified as kind. At no point did Gilgamesh leer like he meant to swallow him whole, or sneer at something he did or didn't do, or jeer at him for some other failure he hadn't yet been made aware of. For winning a bit of respect, Gilgamesh grants Masamune a bit of leeway in return.
If he fails, of course, it's back to square one. If he starts up once more, starts snarling and throwing fits that earned him his fate in Chantes to begin with, Gilgamesh will never afford him this luxury ever again. Gilgamesh may have welcomed Masamune with open arms, but it's an embrace made on awfully thin ice, and some part of him must know that deep down.
For now, he proceeds well. Gilgamesh likes what he sees in that smile. He smiles back.]
Isn't it in a dragon's nature to hoard, to feast? There's no need to hold back on account of cordiality.
[To illustrate this, Gilgamesh offers him a finger sandwich. His eyes shine bright, losing that vague sheen and turning inviting.]
Do not worry. The door remains open to you.
[Which could mean many things, but mostly that Masamune wasn't trapped. He could leave at any time, the instant he felt uncomfortable, at least in theory.]
[ He actually isn't a big eater even if cooking is a secret hobby he rather likes. Masamune looks a bit uncertain, and,when the sandwich is offered to him, he is still expressing preference of a wary approach. The dragon is silent at the mention of not being trapped (ah, is that true--? it would be certainly convenient not to have to find out), blinking and glancing to the door and then back again the King of Heroes.
...Hm. Yeah. it's definitely best not to question. As for the sandwich... his manners say he better take it and eat it but he doesn't even know what a sandwich is, okay.
He finally does take it from the other, but he's going to stare at it while drinking more wine from his glass rather than eat it. If it happens to be bad maybe the wine will allow him to eat it, anyway... ]
Dragons of the West have that reputation, I hear. [ As he speaks, the warlord is trying to be subtle--but failing at it--as he attempts to identify what is between the bread slices. Damn, where's Yukimura to stuff his face and give a report about the foreign food when he needs him? ]
--Besides, that's all sorts of loud and aggressive. You don't have that many people here for anything rowdy to be going on. [ That many: as in two. Or were there more people coming? You can't have a party with one person. ]
...It's not sweet, right?
[ Masamune refers to the sandwich but isn't all that clear, either. unless Gilganesh has been watching this pathetic attempt to mentally dissect the ingredients of a finger sandwich just by holding it and rotating one's view. ]
It isn't his usual sort of laughter, sardonic, amused at another's expense, but genuinely warm instead. Masamune looks uncertain, yes, and also just like a cat, trying to decide if he'd pay his master any attention or continue his show of stubbornness just because. The way he sizes up his food, the way he studies it and samples his drink with the care of one checking for poison, it's all so funny and Gilgamesh can't help but poke fun at it. Subtlety really isn't Masamune's strong suit, and neither is putting up a front.]
You do not care for sweets?
[That's new. Then again, for all time they've been forced to spend together, Gilgamesh doesn't know a whole lot about the other man. His hobbies, his interests, the sorts of clothes he liked to wear, his favorite color or favorite season... he doesn't know, doesn't exactly care to know, but Gilgamesh may be starting to acknowledge that Masamune was a person, with quirks of his own that made him who he was.
It's progress. It's progress in the right direction, and as much as he'd deny it, Gilgamesh had a fondness for humans, especially the humans of an era far from his, far from times of mindless self-indulgence and corruption. In the end, they were his charges, and this fate was as unalterable as Masamune's as a warlord.
Gilgamesh grabs the same sandwich from the pile and pops in his mouth, then nudges Masamune to do the same.]
[ Masamune makes a slight face at the question on sweets in reply. Sebastian introducing him to the desserts of Europe basically ended with him wanting to die after three bites. Now, he's become weary of anything that is new to him in regards to food. He's beginning to assume these are not sweet (or they are of a tolerable manner). If he were going to contemplate more about it, his time is cut short with Gilgamesh's actions. If the host wants that then the polite thing to do is... do exactly that.
So he shoves the sandwich in his mouth. It's a luckily decent experience. The sandwich is a very strange combination of textures and flavors, but there is also something undeniably tasty about it.
To think he's eating strange foreign custom food with Gilgamesh... The only strange eating he expected was any blood splattered against the walls or some other surface.. It's not a bad thing to be wrong, though.
It's only after drinking some more that he decides it's time to hear the real deal. He wants to know if anything goes down while he's drunk if it's his own idea or not. This j especially so with the alcohol of choice bring wine. Masamune has never had red wine before other than to specifically become intoxicated from it. So, yeah, his social drinking track record with this stuff is pretty shit... ]
So, I stab you through the heart and that gets me invited for food and drinks and some praise? [ That's his subtle way of wanting Gilgamesh to spill his guts full because, wow, seems so backwards?! ]
[And because Masamune has worked up the courage to ask, Gilgamesh answers, answers in such a straightforward manner that it could be nothing but the truth as he has no reason to lie anyway. A lie would've gotten Masamune in his bedroom as well as the truth, so why not favor the brighter road for once?]
You demonstrated strength. That you will do what is necessary, when it becomes necessary, and not simply grovel as one defeated. Though I already own everything precious in the world, I have no desire to dominate a creature that does not test its leash on occasion.
[Gilgamesh reaches to pour himself more wine, though he's fixated on Masamune. Perhaps overly so. Really, he's waiting for him to bristle at that prospect of ownership. To deny it, to push and to shove and gnash his fangs. But this time Gilgamesh stops waiting and cuts him off at the pass, words regaining a familiar challenge.]
I believe you enjoy it, that sense of purpose. For what is the lord without his rival, without the one who blocks his path and will not move for anything?
[Fingers drum across Masamune's thigh. The seating arrangements were clearly intentional, as it gives him room to lean in and mutter:]
What is the dragon, without the hero bold enough to claim him?
[ Like a cat not quite ready to hiss and lash out but still plenty affected enough to have its hair pricking on its back, Masamune is reactive to the familiar-becoming indication. His body language is all that manages to afford some kind of response as Gilgamesh continues on.
Masamune doesn't really believe Gilgamesh's usage of rival is quite the same as the term applied to another someone else by the young Date lord. Even so, it's noted that Gilgamesh and Yukimura are vastly different in just about every way. Even Masamune's role to play seems reversed between the two when engaged.
What attracted him to Yukimura first was his pure and earnest nature, clear eyes that have no negativity for others or fighting with himself. He's untainted by the vile realities of humanity and the darker and more villainous nature of war.
Gilgamesh... could not be any further the opposite of Yukimura even if one tried. The King of Heroes-- how funny that Gilgamesh rules over the very concept that Yukimura could be the perfect version of one day should he not falter-- is far too well aware of the dark side that every human carries, whether it's nursed or left dormant. With the Servant possessing a natural wisdom from seeing through millennia, Masamune is sure that the other has witnessed everything of humanity-- including the blackest of the black --and more.
His eyelids lower halfway as he glances out of the corner of his eye at Gilgsmesh's closing in and his words.
That's true.
There is a certain thrill at someone attempting to dominate you when no one's done it before. So, his attraction to Gilgamesh is the opportunity to indulge and be able to react to blacker circumstances.
Even if it's inevitable, the duration of the resistance-- the dangling of something they want over their head and the fact that you are capable of keeping it from them --is a thrill like no other. He likes to see people like Gilgamesh make effort. He likes seeing how badly they really want what they're after. Desire is often fickle and shallow due to feelings of entitlement rather than true want. When it's easy that's one thing; but what about when it's hard? Giving up on it means you didn't want it bad enough.
Masamune forces a chuckle in response after his moment of thinking, concluding he's amused more than anything else. Masamune is still wary and now somewhat anxious, but the amusement seems to be the best one to focus on for now. He's aware where this is going, and he doesn't need the physical contact to recognize that. As he speaks, Masamune looks down deliberately at Gilgamesh's fingers with the other within his personal space again. ]
So, you try and damage your toys a little every now and again to make sure they're still worth keeping?
A sure fire way to get bitten. [ --so it's a thrill to provoke, manipulate, and then soak in the results for Gilgamesh. ]
[It isn't. They aren't really rivals at all, because that implies a degree of equality Gilgamesh won't quite acknowledge, no matter what he says to the contrary. Gilgamesh had only one equal in all the world. Masamune may have been fun to play with, fun to tease, to trade barbs back and forth with like this, but they both know he's no match for the King at his highest and mightiest. He's a better sword arm and that's the extent of leeway he's willing to grant.
But it was wrong of him to think that someone like Yukimura represented the truest essence of a Hero. A true Hero pursued his ideals without hesitation, yet also carried with him the weight of the world. He understood the nature of that world. He acknowledged and embraced cruelty in the same breath he would kindness. He understood that, ultimately, Heroes were imaginary things that humans made up to comfort themselves. There's a reason Heroic Spirits only lived on as ghosts. It's because the sands of time would someday swallow them all, even the ruler of their kind, though Gilgamesh won't acknowledge that, either. That he's as much a prisoner as the rest of his kin.
Gilgamesh plays the snake to Masamune's cat. Every flicker of his tail, every quirk of his mouth, he watches, he notes, he records. Even if Masamune wore the scales of a dragon and proudly so, he was only human in the end, and therefore...]
I oversee humanity and tip the scales as needed to set them on the proper path.
[Those same fingers trail up and along his face, cup the side of it to make the perfect portrait for him to gaze upon.]
You are no different. If I am bitten, it was because I was made to be. If I am spurned...
[A laugh. He doesn't even bother to finish that statement, because it's obvious; what does it matter?]
[ This time, although Masamune doesn't swat Gilgamesh's hand away from his face, the words accompanying it do get him to tilt his head a little to favor the opposite side of the touch. He's stuck looking at the other again and Masamune half-wonders if there's some kind of bullshit magic effect on someone who gazes at those eyes too long. He's usually good with dealing with gazes and staring showdowns.. The only other person he had trouble with also had the same color eyes, though.
The dragon doesn't even care if he's basically being told what's going to happen regardless of what he says or does. He is a little agitated, however, by the claims of such control of humanity right down to negative focus in the Servant's direction. ]
Said like that, are you really just tipping scales or actually pulling strings? [ it's mostly a thought out loud rather than a direct question. The next sentence is for Gilgamesh alone, however. ]
I really can't stand that way of thinking from a guy responsible for so many lives. [ It's stated like a disclaimer, a way to cover anything that is going to happen. If they fuck, that doesn't mean there will be a next time or things are going to change matters of though. He's a male and a human-- only human --but he won't t be mentally manipulated as easily as physically.
Kojuro's here now, which means he absolutely cannot do anything but resist. That one person believing in him absolutely, even if it's to be or do the impossible, makes the only option for Masamune be to turn whatever that belief is into a reality. ]
[By all accounts, it's a reaction Gilgamesh expects. He didn't favor Masamune because he was agreeable, but rather because he wasn't. As long as he doesn't cross the line into blatant disrespect, he can grouse and grumble as much as he likes. It only endears Gilgamesh to him—this was the same man that kept growling lions for pets, after all. He can handle a little dragon nipping at him every now and then.
Gilgamesh refrains from pushing his luck, however, and pulls back. Back to neutral pleasantries, to his wine, to his sandwiches. Madness concealed in the space of a breath, because it's true. In a future far away, Gilgamesh would attempt to not simply tip scales but pull every last string to his own desires, to disastrous effect. He would go mad. Or rather, he'd go even madder and fail to realize the ramifications of his actions until it was too late.
He's not bothered, though. Gilgamesh, by nature, rejected timelines he disliked. They did not exist for him. They did not happen. It's why he'd taken the news of his apparent fall within that future with such grace; for Gilgamesh, that sort of fate would never come to pass at all. Such was the strength of the King's stubbornness as well as his infinite will, that they could deny and warp reality itself to his whims.]
Did you mean to say you cannot stand me?
[It's a harder question to answer—not as easy as the of course I can't it seems on the surface, otherwise why would he have walked into such obvious bait to begin with? It's why Gilgamesh asks it, looking at Masamune only through the corner of those unfairly hypnotic eyes.]
im sorry I totally changed my mind on how I wanted to approach ;;
[ The first thing the dragon does when the king pulls back is grab the wrist of the hand that had brushed against his cheek not even a moment ago. Not so fast. ]
No. [ Masamune answers immediately but drinks some more wine before saying any more. ]
I meant just as I said.
[ He doesn't know how to answer on whether he can or can't stand the other. Already, the one-eyed dragon is aware it is far more complicated than 'yes' or 'no'.
That's why he answers the question literally how it is asked. No more no less.
Masamune puts his glass down now that's it emptied. He thinks this is good for starters-- that he can deal properly with whatever comes next. ]
Something about you just really makes me want to prove you wrong no matter what-- or go down trying.
I said I wouldn't be out all night when I left to come here. It looks like you had other plans? I'm guilty of being intrigued.
[ he lets go of Gilgamesh, moving to get up from his seat, a bit of a cheeky smile ghosting his lips. ]
I promise, regardless of which becomes the reality, that you are in for a long and messy night to claim victory. So, are you sure you want to spend the rest of it collaring a dragon?
Well, now it really has become interesting, hasn't it? So the dragon has learned defiance—the earnest kind, not just a blind snapping of teeth. He says what he means, means what he says, and already this is an improvement from before. He's learning to work within the confines of the collar rather than simply rage against it. He's learning to adapt to his situation rather than hopelessly rail against the fates, blaming everyone but himself for his woes.
And for his efforts, Masamune will find that said collar will loosen, so long as he is subtly clever instead of brutishly cross.]
It is within your blood, little lord, that you should desire such confrontation.
[Gilgamesh lifts himself, as well, shifting to pass him though offering a coy glance over his shoulder first.]
Are you sure you want to tempt my hand? I told you once; you may leave, if you'd prefer it.
[But would Gilgamesh allow it? His expression gives nothing away, cards played close to the chest.]
[ Although his attention follows Gilgamesh's movements, there's a short moment where he glances from the Servant to the door that led to exit. It's a tricky thing to decide on. For Masamune, he is cocky but that's in terms of battle. As far as how confident he is that Gilgamesh will act one way versus another in regard to him is another matter entirely. ]
I could leave. It's not as interesting a choice... [ Masamune considers, starting for the door now. He is curious. While he had previously hoped he wouldn't have to find out if he's really allowed to stay or go, the warlord seems more willing to seek more finalizing answers in his state. What wonders a little alcohol can contribute to for altering perception just enough to change things entirely. ] ...unless it's still tempting your hand by trying, anyway?
[ Hadn't Gilgamesh practically said as much only moments ago? If Masamune goes to leave and things have already been set, he should expect to not be going anywhere. The king doesn't have to have only one option he can play, either, right? Any master player knows that the same result can be achieved multiple ways. Does Gilgamesh have only one winning combination, then? How well thought out is this trap?
To Masamune, especially right now, there's as much to learn about Gilgamesh as there has ever been-- and far more reason to make the effort to retain such knowledge once it's revealed. ]
[Gilgamesh halts him before he gets terribly far, through insistent tone alone.]
Agreed.
[Gilgamesh then makes a swipe for the table, for one sandwich in particular that was indeed quite sweet, filled with cream and delicate wafers. He plucks off the cherry and pops it into his mouth, though doesn't quite chew, playing it over the tip of his tongue instead. It is a lewd and purposeful display and he makes no show of hiding it, eyes half-lidded, pupils quite full, indicative of early arousal.
It's just another one, two, three steps to Masamune, whose head he tilts back with a rough hold to his scruff... and after a moment of intense staring, he's offered the cherry, accompanied by a strong push against his lips. Gilgamesh has only one winning combination, but in fact needs only one: the angle of seduction that he's presented time and time again, as not only a great King but an even greater entertainer. Maybe it couldn't rightly be called a trap, either, as that implied some chance of failure.
A hand finds Masamune's hip. The other buries itself in hair. He cannot speak; the gesture itself says enough, and asks of the warlord, what will you do now?]
[ Of course, in his halted movements, Masamune turns around. Curiosity is a dangerous thing, but it's inevitable, all the same.
He watches, and while he can't say he knows the feeling he's experiencing well enough to pinpoint it, everything unfolding as it does seems to be a bit hypnotic. Is it Gilgamesh's movements, then, or his eyes, or something else...?
Whatever it is, he has no chance to clearly assess it. Even with time seeming to stop when his head is forced back and he's staring into those eyes, all he can managed is the thought recognizing that his chest pounding just a little harder than it should be in an anxious sort of anticipation.
The taste of the cherry on his tongue and meshing along into saliva is what snaps him back to the reality—or at least as much of a reality as this instant could possibly be to him. Masamune cringes at the taste, at the grip on him and at fingers sinking into his hair. He's not used to being on the receiving end of this-- of the other party having the control.
That silent question beats loud in his own ears: what will he do now? Masamune admits he isn't quite sure... but he'll have to begin somewhere. He'll start with first things first: using his tongue to try and rather forcefully push the fruit back into Gilgamesh's mouth. What Gilgamesh planned by using the cherry, he has no idea, but Masamune-- as taken with the king he is already becoming --will not accept the sweet unless he absolutely has to. If he has to use his own tongue to manually shove it down the back of Gilgamesh's throat in order to succeed, he will.
It's the principle of the thing. He won't suddenly take what he claimed dislike for just because Gilgamesh is the one giving it to him.
One hand moves to catch Gilgamesh's jaw, the other curling into the front of his top in an attempt to give himself more leverage. Considering he's having to practically push back up in his position and fight gravity along with Gilgamesh, any help is better than nothing.
Just watch me.
What better way to find out the truth of the answer, anyway? ]
[Gilgamesh, perhaps surprisingly, doesn't resist him. With the cherry shoved back past his lips, his teeth come down in a single swift motion to tear it apart. The juices trail from the corner of his mouth, along his chin, and it makes for a beautiful sort of image that one might think to frame; beautiful and terrifying, given what it seems to suggest will follow. He stares with those bottomless eyes, hangs in his grip, once more leaves Masamune in suspense.
And then the moment fades and he's grabbing for the hand buried in his shirt, asserting his full height as well as his superior strength. The authoritativeness has returned; this Gilgamesh Masamune knows better, will recognize immediately. The King upon his throne, ushering commands of his favored pet.]
If you so revile possession, then throw me down, and...
[Gilgamesh turns his head to the fingers gripping his jaw. He bites. Masamune bleeds.]
...claim me for yourself, if you can.
[His tongue just barely grazes the small spot of red, breath coming in purposeful little puffs, hah, hah, hah. Even the surest of higher faiths would be tested now.]
[ Throughout all of their encounters, there has never been a time Gilgamesh hasn't managed to surprise him. It's been a different story for things that truly are not expected. Him not resisting and clamping down on the cherry is one of them. Masamune has never jerked back physically so fast-- or, at least, he has never tried to before. The strength he's dealing with doesn't allow that to quite all happen.
By the time he's past dealing with the shock-- or maybe it's merely the awe at the simple difference in power and control he is dealing with --of being bitten, of bleeding, and of the soft swipe felt by the other's tongue, Masamune's expression is a mix that is mostly unreadable. The only exception is the intimidation that is becoming muddied with growing influence indignation as he consciously refuses to allow himself to take his hand away just because he's bleeding (because it's a useless gesture). ]
Your arrogance—
[ He practically hisses out his words more than speaks them clearly.
(Can it really be simple arrogance when he has strength and control to back it all up?) ]
—Then, I'll say the last of it the same to you.
[ Letting go of Gilgamesh's chin he brings his hand to his mouth to take his own teeth and aggravate the injury-- to further exacerbate the flow of blood. Moving his hand back he deliberately makes the gesture to swipe his hand appropriately across skin; in order paint the blood against Gilgamesh's cheek, dragging it right to the corner of his mouth. The Date clan head won't be intimidated into submission or shy away from whatever the king tries to pull. ]
Do it if you can; or is it better to say 'if I let you'?
[ His boldness is always fueled by a furious response to his freedom. But, what he still doesn't seem to realize is that he's walked right into all of it and is very easily letting himself get pulled even further.
Of course, Masamune knows everything he says isn't possible. But that's also why he says it. He's intending to continue to bite the hand that feeds until the point where the line between impossible and possible blurs together.
He drags his bloodied fingers against the king's mouth in a strange contradictory gesture of being defiant to grant Gilgamesh a certain level of satisfaction and apparently giving him it all too willingly.
(That's the real problem, right? This is Gilgamesh's trump, this is a perfect demonstration proving him right: everything goes as it's supposed to, one way or the other.)
...Ah, wow. He really fucked himself over this time. ]
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Would you care for a drink with me? In my quarters.
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He can practically feel the teeth already. But, he's stupidly curious now as to what the other exactly took away from their simulation encounter. It's very obvious he took away... something between this and the look in his eyes before fading off, but Masamune had the slightest idea what it was. The only advantage he has now is that he's aware of several possibilities... but that helps him narrow it down none. They are all perfectly possible takeaways.
...Time to put his hand on the live stove, then. ]
I would care for nothing more.
[ The young lord makes a face even as he sends the message. That was such a lie it wasn't even worth typing but he figures it's good enough for Gilgamesh. Regardless of how Masamune feels, the fact is still the same: he's going to take the invitation.
--And regret it, probably, but at least he feels better knowingly going in and probably getting himself screwed rather than going in oblivious. Sometimes, Masamune is just a hardhead that is going to walk into the trap knowing it's a trap because why not? ]
action;
[A lie for a lie. Seems about right, doesn't it?
So Gilgamesh sets his trap. He drapes a fine cloth over the table; he calls forth the golden goblet and a pair of glasses polished to a fine shine; he lays out little hors d'oeuvres and then simply sits back and waits, as promised. Much has changed; nothing has changed at all. Gilgamesh plans to keep him; Gilgamesh plans to set him free.
Gilgamesh will look at him when arrives, and gives away absolutely nothing with his expression. Perhaps the simulation is long behind them; perhaps they never left it.]
So you came.
[Gesturing to the seat beside him, he sounds neither surprised nor particularly pleased. As if announcing the weather or reciting some dreary headline.]
Please, join me.
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Really impressive, Masamune thinks to himself. He isn't normally intrigued by such things—treating a guest you invite properly is the least that can be done a host in his home world. It's expected and thus more likely to gain attention when absent— but he didn't know Gilgamesh had it in him to even attempt such a thing.
So, color this dragon a little surprised, enough that, beyond his courteous nod towards the king's greeting, he remains quiet. When asked to sit, he politely does so with proper grace. Manners are not something Masamune lacks. He knows them inside and out and, as the current head of the Date clan, uses them when he chooses to further relations and when he chooses to destroy them. Masamune's personality, however, does not feel a need to give manners consistently or even extend them to everyone he interacts with. Here, Gilgamesh receives manners because Masamune is impressed with his setup—meaning he can't read the Servant even in the slightest despite having more than enough experience to hazard some kind of guess.
Once seated, he opts to keep his attention on Gilgamesh rather than wander. He's waits patiently—
( —for the wine.
For the topic of discussion.
For the stringing along until it's all exactly how Gilgamesh wishes it.
For the grand reveal of actual intent.
For the real entertainment that will follow after such. )
The dragon smiles pleasantly at the king despite the other's seemingly apathetic behavior towards this meeting. That's all okay; the amount of teeth that would be visible-- if Masamune only curled his lips back into the grin it really should be rather than forcefully keeping them hidden by a subdued smile --will keep up that part of the charade for the both of them. ]
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He sizes him up silently, dips his head in a quiet sort of thank you for the praise Masamune doesn't feel necessary to extend aloud. He pours out the glasses, and keeps Masamune waiting, and waiting, and waiting. For the wine, for the topic of discussion, for the stringing along and the grand reveal. Much has changed, nothing has changed at all, and so Gilgamesh remains his same slippery self, sliding through Masamune's fingers before he can get a firm handle on just what he's playing at here.]
I must say, I expected a messier result.
[Once again, Gilgamesh doesn't tip his hand immediately. He lets the words linger, reaches for his own glass for a slow, indulgent sip.]
Some gore, to be certain... a degree of anger... frustration... but it was all so well-concealed, so eerily composed. I applaud your decorum, truly.
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The way the Servant drags things out is well noticed-- the elders did this often for their various reasons, too. While Masamune doesn't wonder if their intentions are somehow similar, he does sense it's testing his patience now as it did then, all the same. He's still young, and even now it's trying, particularly with how he also still can't get a hint of what this is about.
That's unfortunate; Masamune had been hoping he would have been able to pick up on something before Gilgamesh actually got to the step of drinking his wine.
Damn.
Eyeing his own glass but not yet daring to entertain it ( --not until he has an idea or, at the very least, enough trust he won't overdo it too fast. His reputation with alcohol has never been for social purposes or with moderation--), the Date lord looks to Gilgamesh. ]
Ha? Wouldn't that have been too boring for you, anyway? If it went the way you expected it.
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[It's the first honest thing he's said so far, and it isn't much. Gilgamesh seems content to sit there in relative silence, drinking his wine, staring at Masamune with those indecipherable eyes. Is it to make him uncomfortable? Maybe. Or maybe it's a subtler form of admiration, given that no pushing and prodding follows, no tease of the tongue. A quiet Gilgamesh was a Gilgamesh that, for better or worse, was thinking and thinking hard.
After a few minutes, his hand drifts to Masamune's wrist, fingers just barely grazing skin. Stroking along in faint motions that are scarcely even there. And then it becomes apparent just what he's up to and why the finest silk and lace have been busted out for a seemingly innocuous occasion.
Gilgamesh appears to be seducing Masamune in earnest. Not even an attempt, really—he's already quite confident in his victory.]
What were you waiting for, dragon? Enjoy yourself.
[Though it might be a little difficult with a serpent lurking right over one's shoulder.]
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He only turns back to Gilgamesh when he picks up the sensation from Gilgamesh's fingers, them reaching the needed absolute threshold just enough to leave that strange feeling ghosting along his skin. The touch is as mercurial as its owner and despite his best efforts, it does manage to coax an involuntary shiver from Masamune.
That shudder makes him self-conscious enough to reach for his own glass now, in hope that engaging in something less idle will prevent that reaction from happening again.
Gilgamesh wants him to enjoy himself, huh? It's true it's hard to do in this situation where such a thing lurks behind him, but one way to eliminate that discomfort is to focus very much forward and on the wine. If this wine is anything like the potency of red wine he's had back home, this isn't going to take long.
There is a moment where he considers asking about how strong this is in comparison to other red wines. It doesn't hurt to know a little more about what you're diving into. That moment passes quickly, though, as he brings the glass to his lips to take a taste of it.
Does he care to know? Not really. Even despite understanding what's going on here, he decides to continue playing along. His smile is so many emotions that its.a good mask. But one thing about it is clear, as well as the emotion expressed in his eyes now: It's playful. Curious. Masamune won't be backed into a corner so easily, but he may ultimately be willing to have it happen, nevertheless. ]
You're right. Where to start to do that sort of thing, then? [ if it's a damn good seduction Gilgamesh executes, he'll probably go with it. The young Date lord is aware this is dangerous, but he can't help but want to see where things head. For now, it continues. ]
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If he fails, of course, it's back to square one. If he starts up once more, starts snarling and throwing fits that earned him his fate in Chantes to begin with, Gilgamesh will never afford him this luxury ever again. Gilgamesh may have welcomed Masamune with open arms, but it's an embrace made on awfully thin ice, and some part of him must know that deep down.
For now, he proceeds well. Gilgamesh likes what he sees in that smile. He smiles back.]
Isn't it in a dragon's nature to hoard, to feast? There's no need to hold back on account of cordiality.
[To illustrate this, Gilgamesh offers him a finger sandwich. His eyes shine bright, losing that vague sheen and turning inviting.]
Do not worry. The door remains open to you.
[Which could mean many things, but mostly that Masamune wasn't trapped. He could leave at any time, the instant he felt uncomfortable, at least in theory.]
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even if cooking is a secret hobby he rather likes. Masamune looks a bit uncertain, and,when the sandwich is offered to him, he is still expressing preference of a wary approach. The dragon is silent at the mention of not being trapped (ah, is that true--? it would be certainly convenient not to have to find out), blinking and glancing to the door and then back again the King of Heroes....Hm. Yeah. it's definitely best not to question. As for the sandwich... his manners say he better take it and eat it but he doesn't even know what a sandwich is, okay.
He finally does take it from the other, but he's going to stare at it while drinking more wine from his glass rather than eat it. If it happens to be bad maybe the wine will allow him to eat it, anyway... ]
Dragons of the West have that reputation, I hear. [ As he speaks, the warlord is trying to be subtle--but failing at it--as he attempts to identify what is between the bread slices. Damn, where's Yukimura to stuff his face and give a report about the foreign food when he needs him? ]
--Besides, that's all sorts of loud and aggressive. You don't have that many people here for anything rowdy to be going on. [ That many: as in two. Or were there more people coming? You can't have a party with one person. ]
...It's not sweet, right?
[ Masamune refers to the sandwich but isn't all that clear, either. unless Gilganesh has been watching this pathetic attempt to mentally dissect the ingredients of a finger sandwich just by holding it and rotating one's view. ]
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It isn't his usual sort of laughter, sardonic, amused at another's expense, but genuinely warm instead. Masamune looks uncertain, yes, and also just like a cat, trying to decide if he'd pay his master any attention or continue his show of stubbornness just because. The way he sizes up his food, the way he studies it and samples his drink with the care of one checking for poison, it's all so funny and Gilgamesh can't help but poke fun at it. Subtlety really isn't Masamune's strong suit, and neither is putting up a front.]
You do not care for sweets?
[That's new. Then again, for all time they've been forced to spend together, Gilgamesh doesn't know a whole lot about the other man. His hobbies, his interests, the sorts of clothes he liked to wear, his favorite color or favorite season... he doesn't know, doesn't exactly care to know, but Gilgamesh may be starting to acknowledge that Masamune was a person, with quirks of his own that made him who he was.
It's progress. It's progress in the right direction, and as much as he'd deny it, Gilgamesh had a fondness for humans, especially the humans of an era far from his, far from times of mindless self-indulgence and corruption. In the end, they were his charges, and this fate was as unalterable as Masamune's as a warlord.
Gilgamesh grabs the same sandwich from the pile and pops in his mouth, then nudges Masamune to do the same.]
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So he shoves the sandwich in his mouth. It's a luckily decent experience. The sandwich is a very strange combination of textures and flavors, but there is also something undeniably tasty about it.
To think he's eating strange foreign custom food with Gilgamesh... The only strange eating he expected was any blood splattered against the walls or some other surface.. It's not a bad thing to be wrong, though.
It's only after drinking some more that he decides it's time to hear the real deal. He wants to know if anything goes down while he's drunk if it's his own idea or not. This j especially so with the alcohol of choice bring wine. Masamune has never had red wine before other than to specifically become intoxicated from it. So, yeah, his social drinking track record with this stuff is pretty shit... ]
So, I stab you through the heart and that gets me invited for food and drinks and some praise? [ That's his subtle way of wanting Gilgamesh to spill his guts full because, wow, seems so backwards?! ]
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You demonstrated strength. That you will do what is necessary, when it becomes necessary, and not simply grovel as one defeated. Though I already own everything precious in the world, I have no desire to dominate a creature that does not test its leash on occasion.
[Gilgamesh reaches to pour himself more wine, though he's fixated on Masamune. Perhaps overly so. Really, he's waiting for him to bristle at that prospect of ownership. To deny it, to push and to shove and gnash his fangs. But this time Gilgamesh stops waiting and cuts him off at the pass, words regaining a familiar challenge.]
I believe you enjoy it, that sense of purpose. For what is the lord without his rival, without the one who blocks his path and will not move for anything?
[Fingers drum across Masamune's thigh. The seating arrangements were clearly intentional, as it gives him room to lean in and mutter:]
What is the dragon, without the hero bold enough to claim him?
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Masamune doesn't really believe Gilgamesh's usage of rival is quite the same as the term applied to another someone else by the young Date lord. Even so, it's noted that Gilgamesh and Yukimura are vastly different in just about every way. Even Masamune's role to play seems reversed between the two when engaged.
What attracted him to Yukimura first was his pure and earnest nature, clear eyes that have no negativity for others or fighting with himself. He's untainted by the vile realities of humanity and the darker and more villainous nature of war.
Gilgamesh... could not be any further the opposite of Yukimura even if one tried. The King of Heroes-- how funny that Gilgamesh rules over the very concept that Yukimura could be the perfect version of one day should he not falter-- is far too well aware of the dark side that every human carries, whether it's nursed or left dormant. With the Servant possessing a natural wisdom from seeing through millennia, Masamune is sure that the other has witnessed everything of humanity-- including the blackest of the black --and more.
His eyelids lower halfway as he glances out of the corner of his eye at Gilgsmesh's closing in and his words.
That's true.
There is a certain thrill at someone attempting to dominate you when no one's done it before. So, his attraction to Gilgamesh is the opportunity to indulge and be able to react to blacker circumstances.
Even if it's inevitable, the duration of the resistance-- the dangling of something they want over their head and the fact that you are capable of keeping it from them --is a thrill like no other. He likes to see people like Gilgamesh make effort. He likes seeing how badly they really want what they're after. Desire is often fickle and shallow due to feelings of entitlement rather than true want. When it's easy that's one thing; but what about when it's hard? Giving up on it means you didn't want it bad enough.
Masamune forces a chuckle in response after his moment of thinking, concluding he's amused more than anything else. Masamune is still wary and now somewhat anxious, but the amusement seems to be the best one to focus on for now. He's aware where this is going, and he doesn't need the physical contact to recognize that. As he speaks, Masamune looks down deliberately at Gilgamesh's fingers with the other within his personal space again. ]
So, you try and damage your toys a little every now and again to make sure they're still worth keeping?
A sure fire way to get bitten. [ --so it's a thrill to provoke, manipulate, and then soak in the results for Gilgamesh. ]
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But it was wrong of him to think that someone like Yukimura represented the truest essence of a Hero. A true Hero pursued his ideals without hesitation, yet also carried with him the weight of the world. He understood the nature of that world. He acknowledged and embraced cruelty in the same breath he would kindness. He understood that, ultimately, Heroes were imaginary things that humans made up to comfort themselves. There's a reason Heroic Spirits only lived on as ghosts. It's because the sands of time would someday swallow them all, even the ruler of their kind, though Gilgamesh won't acknowledge that, either. That he's as much a prisoner as the rest of his kin.
Gilgamesh plays the snake to Masamune's cat. Every flicker of his tail, every quirk of his mouth, he watches, he notes, he records. Even if Masamune wore the scales of a dragon and proudly so, he was only human in the end, and therefore...]
I oversee humanity and tip the scales as needed to set them on the proper path.
[Those same fingers trail up and along his face, cup the side of it to make the perfect portrait for him to gaze upon.]
You are no different. If I am bitten, it was because I was made to be. If I am spurned...
[A laugh. He doesn't even bother to finish that statement, because it's obvious; what does it matter?]
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The dragon doesn't even care if he's basically being told what's going to happen regardless of what he says or does. He is a little agitated, however, by the claims of such control of humanity right down to negative focus in the Servant's direction. ]
Said like that, are you really just tipping scales or actually pulling strings? [ it's mostly a thought out loud rather than a direct question. The next sentence is for Gilgamesh alone, however. ]
I really can't stand that way of thinking from a guy responsible for so many lives. [ It's stated like a disclaimer, a way to cover anything that is going to happen. If they fuck, that doesn't mean there will be a next time or things are going to change matters of though. He's a male and a human-- only human --but he won't t be mentally manipulated as easily as physically.
Kojuro's here now, which means he absolutely cannot do anything but resist. That one person believing in him absolutely, even if it's to be or do the impossible, makes the only option for Masamune be to turn whatever that belief is into a reality. ]
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Gilgamesh refrains from pushing his luck, however, and pulls back. Back to neutral pleasantries, to his wine, to his sandwiches. Madness concealed in the space of a breath, because it's true. In a future far away, Gilgamesh would attempt to not simply tip scales but pull every last string to his own desires, to disastrous effect. He would go mad. Or rather, he'd go even madder and fail to realize the ramifications of his actions until it was too late.
He's not bothered, though. Gilgamesh, by nature, rejected timelines he disliked. They did not exist for him. They did not happen. It's why he'd taken the news of his apparent fall within that future with such grace; for Gilgamesh, that sort of fate would never come to pass at all. Such was the strength of the King's stubbornness as well as his infinite will, that they could deny and warp reality itself to his whims.]
Did you mean to say you cannot stand me?
[It's a harder question to answer—not as easy as the of course I can't it seems on the surface, otherwise why would he have walked into such obvious bait to begin with? It's why Gilgamesh asks it, looking at Masamune only through the corner of those unfairly hypnotic eyes.]
im sorry I totally changed my mind on how I wanted to approach ;;
No. [ Masamune answers immediately but drinks some more wine before saying any more. ]
I meant just as I said.
[ He doesn't know how to answer on whether he can or can't stand the other. Already, the one-eyed dragon is aware it is far more complicated than 'yes' or 'no'.
That's why he answers the question literally how it is asked. No more no less.
Masamune puts his glass down now that's it emptied. He thinks this is good for starters-- that he can deal properly with whatever comes next. ]
Something about you just really makes me want to prove you wrong no matter what-- or go down trying.
I said I wouldn't be out all night when I left to come here. It looks like you had other plans? I'm guilty of being intrigued.
[ he lets go of Gilgamesh, moving to get up from his seat, a bit of a cheeky smile ghosting his lips. ]
I promise, regardless of which becomes the reality, that you are in for a long and messy night to claim victory. So, are you sure you want to spend the rest of it collaring a dragon?
I clearly was waiting for this moment
Well, now it really has become interesting, hasn't it? So the dragon has learned defiance—the earnest kind, not just a blind snapping of teeth. He says what he means, means what he says, and already this is an improvement from before. He's learning to work within the confines of the collar rather than simply rage against it. He's learning to adapt to his situation rather than hopelessly rail against the fates, blaming everyone but himself for his woes.
And for his efforts, Masamune will find that said collar will loosen, so long as he is subtly clever instead of brutishly cross.]
It is within your blood, little lord, that you should desire such confrontation.
[Gilgamesh lifts himself, as well, shifting to pass him though offering a coy glance over his shoulder first.]
Are you sure you want to tempt my hand? I told you once; you may leave, if you'd prefer it.
[But would Gilgamesh allow it? His expression gives nothing away, cards played close to the chest.]
perfect
I could leave. It's not as interesting a choice... [ Masamune considers, starting for the door now. He is curious. While he had previously hoped he wouldn't have to find out if he's really allowed to stay or go, the warlord seems more willing to seek more finalizing answers in his state. What wonders a little alcohol can contribute to for altering perception just enough to change things entirely. ] ...unless it's still tempting your hand by trying, anyway?
[ Hadn't Gilgamesh practically said as much only moments ago? If Masamune goes to leave and things have already been set, he should expect to not be going anywhere. The king doesn't have to have only one option he can play, either, right? Any master player knows that the same result can be achieved multiple ways. Does Gilgamesh have only one winning combination, then? How well thought out is this trap?
To Masamune, especially right now, there's as much to learn about Gilgamesh as there has ever been-- and far more reason to make the effort to retain such knowledge once it's revealed. ]
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Agreed.
[Gilgamesh then makes a swipe for the table, for one sandwich in particular that was indeed quite sweet, filled with cream and delicate wafers. He plucks off the cherry and pops it into his mouth, though doesn't quite chew, playing it over the tip of his tongue instead. It is a lewd and purposeful display and he makes no show of hiding it, eyes half-lidded, pupils quite full, indicative of early arousal.
It's just another one, two, three steps to Masamune, whose head he tilts back with a rough hold to his scruff... and after a moment of intense staring, he's offered the cherry, accompanied by a strong push against his lips. Gilgamesh has only one winning combination, but in fact needs only one: the angle of seduction that he's presented time and time again, as not only a great King but an even greater entertainer. Maybe it couldn't rightly be called a trap, either, as that implied some chance of failure.
A hand finds Masamune's hip. The other buries itself in hair. He cannot speak; the gesture itself says enough, and asks of the warlord, what will you do now?]
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He watches, and while he can't say he knows the feeling he's experiencing well enough to pinpoint it, everything unfolding as it does seems to be a bit hypnotic. Is it Gilgamesh's movements, then, or his eyes, or something else...?
Whatever it is, he has no chance to clearly assess it. Even with time seeming to stop when his head is forced back and he's staring into those eyes, all he can managed is the thought recognizing that his chest pounding just a little harder than it should be in an anxious sort of anticipation.
The taste of the cherry on his tongue and meshing along into saliva is what snaps him back to the reality—or at least as much of a reality as this instant could possibly be to him. Masamune cringes at the taste, at the grip on him and at fingers sinking into his hair. He's not used to being on the receiving end of this-- of the other party having the control.
That silent question beats loud in his own ears: what will he do now? Masamune admits he isn't quite sure... but he'll have to begin somewhere. He'll start with first things first: using his tongue to try and rather forcefully push the fruit back into Gilgamesh's mouth. What Gilgamesh planned by using the cherry, he has no idea, but Masamune-- as taken with the king he is already becoming --will not accept the sweet unless he absolutely has to. If he has to use his own tongue to manually shove it down the back of Gilgamesh's throat in order to succeed, he will.
It's the principle of the thing. He won't suddenly take what he claimed dislike for just because Gilgamesh is the one giving it to him.
One hand moves to catch Gilgamesh's jaw, the other curling into the front of his top in an attempt to give himself more leverage. Considering he's having to practically push back up in his position and fight gravity along with Gilgamesh, any help is better than nothing.
Just watch me.
What better way to find out the truth of the answer, anyway? ]
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And then the moment fades and he's grabbing for the hand buried in his shirt, asserting his full height as well as his superior strength. The authoritativeness has returned; this Gilgamesh Masamune knows better, will recognize immediately. The King upon his throne, ushering commands of his favored pet.]
If you so revile possession, then throw me down, and...
[Gilgamesh turns his head to the fingers gripping his jaw. He bites. Masamune bleeds.]
...claim me for yourself, if you can.
[His tongue just barely grazes the small spot of red, breath coming in purposeful little puffs, hah, hah, hah. Even the surest of higher faiths would be tested now.]
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By the time he's past dealing with the shock-- or maybe it's merely the awe at the simple difference in power and control he is dealing with --of being bitten, of bleeding, and of the soft swipe felt by the other's tongue, Masamune's expression is a mix that is mostly unreadable. The only exception is the intimidation that is becoming muddied with growing influence indignation as he consciously refuses to allow himself to take his hand away just because he's bleeding (because it's a useless gesture). ]
Your arrogance—
[ He practically hisses out his words more than speaks them clearly.
(Can it really be simple arrogance when he has strength and control to back it all up?) ]
—Then, I'll say the last of it the same to you.
[ Letting go of Gilgamesh's chin he brings his hand to his mouth to take his own teeth and aggravate the injury-- to further exacerbate the flow of blood. Moving his hand back he deliberately makes the gesture to swipe his hand appropriately across skin; in order paint the blood against Gilgamesh's cheek, dragging it right to the corner of his mouth. The Date clan head won't be intimidated into submission or shy away from whatever the king tries to pull. ]
Do it if you can; or is it better to say 'if I let you'?
[ His boldness is always fueled by a furious response to his freedom. But, what he still doesn't seem to realize is that he's walked right into all of it and is very easily letting himself get pulled even further.
Of course, Masamune knows everything he says isn't possible. But that's also why he says it. He's intending to continue to bite the hand that feeds until the point where the line between impossible and possible blurs together.
He drags his bloodied fingers against the king's mouth in a strange contradictory gesture of being defiant to grant Gilgamesh a certain level of satisfaction and apparently giving him it all too willingly.
(That's the real problem, right? This is Gilgamesh's trump, this is a perfect demonstration proving him right: everything goes as it's supposed to, one way or the other.)
...Ah, wow. He really fucked himself over this time. ]
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