[ yeah... is this the same guy who just was flaunting his own blades at him a few moments ago? ]
Don't be too eager, I'm not going out in that desert again for a while. I hate this environment. [ it's not a lie, if one bothers trying to more closely inspect what is behind Masamune, he's actually... actually outside, but what looks to be a very shaded area of a building. Sure enough, that's exactly where he is, including plastering himself the stone walling which is the coolest area the dragon has managed to find in this dumb place. Not surprising, maybe. Water dragons without water are probably not very happy and that's what eastern dragons are. He'd rather be stuck in the middle of an invested demon area with weather conditions more favorable than this.
And just to be super clear: ]
You could have the most thrilling treasures and sex out of this world that I would die for, but I'm still not going unless your oasis has a snow machine.
[ what a miserable little dragon brat. and this is you being nice (and creepy)-- you sure this is what you want Gilgamesh? Dragons aren't that rare are they. ]
Masamune's not even referring to going visiting the person that came closer to spilling his brain matter all over the sand than any monster or demon, but really... just...
it's so hot. Why is it so hot?
At the very least, he's preoccupied by this ... Tent display and has been since noticing it on the way. So, he's actually outside the tent now, not really sure how to make his arrival known and instead staring up the length-height of the tent.
[Gilgamesh comes strolling out to greet him, then places a finger to the man's lips, gesturing to the sky.
Above their heads, a series of portals open up. Golden ones, ones that Masamune won't recognize as they belong to Gilgamesh himself rather than functioning as part of the world. And from those portals, guided by a wordless whisper, snow begins to fall across the sandy landscape.
It's accompanied by a blast of chill, as well, as there's no "snow machine" without the cold behind it. So for a brief time, Masamune will feel relief, and he will know Gilgamesh as a person who kept his word. Just as he said, he makes it snow, and thus turns the desert into his own winter wonderland.
That smooth little smile of his never fades, as if he knew all along that this would be the outcome. Because he did.]
[ This actually... feels like a dream the way it occurs; executing without any words being exchanged making it especially so.
The feeling of a disguised nightmare isn't far behind it, though. Not because he can see through the other (not at all—the little smile sets off instinctive alarm bells but there's nothing to support them). After all, he still knows nothing about Gilgamesh. Even their first meeting could be chalked up to the scenario that set the stage for it.
(Afterwards, he had been pretty fine, right?)
Catching a bit of snow in his hand, he continues staring up in shock before finally blinking and looking from his palm to the creator of this. Swallowing, the miserable sticky heat has lost influence rapidly on him, making him a little bit more self-aware in the process. A dragon-- or this dragon, at least, seems to be at more disadvantage in the heat. In fact, it's why he usually only ventures around come twilight here. He wants to ask how he did this, but he's not sure he wants to know, either. It just seems to prove, along with the swords and the power before that this king is definitely of divine blood just as claimed.
There's a dilemma now, that he didn't realize (as well as one he doesn't, not even realizing he's showing some obvious dependence). Gilgamesh is the only one who can do this. Maybe he shouldn't get used to it, it most likely is going to come at premium price. Still, even considering a potential rip-off deal, he's just staring at the other person now for two reasons.
One, is of course, he is speechless (and has no idea anything but what he sees at face value now with Gilgamesh good to his word.)
The other is, however, just Gilgamesh himself. For the first time, he takes a really good look at him—he stands out so much more with white falling around him than the countless sandy dunes. Ah, well, he supposes if this person is very well comfortable with propositioning, he must get what he wants often without fuss considering his appearance alone. He's pleasing to look at, certainly, but that's not what is taken away from noticing this. Instead, its more a thought along the lines of what else did I fail to notice?
Masamune blinks suddenly, realizing he's staring and looks of to the side, a bit embarrassed. Ahh, crap... something is unsettling but he doesn't understand what, so he takes it upon himself to crouch down and start touching the snow laying atop sand. ]
[To gaze upon Gilgamesh has often been compared to gazing upon a dream. He is beauty incarnate; selfishness, too, and cruelty, and many other, nastier things, but above all he was made with perfection in mind. It makes sense for Masamune to stare. In fact, Gilgamesh expects him to. He may have even been a little offended if he did not.
The way Masamune behaves, shellshocked and utterly out of his element, reminds Gilgamesh of a child. Certainly, he was very young, no older than his late teens, although the eyepatch suggested a quick and grizzly ascension through the ranks of his people. It's endearing. And, of course, he's also handsome, with soft chestnut hair that begs for his fingers to run through. The subtle crease of his lip, his sharp chin. He's the spitting image of a youth in his prime and he will always be attracted to that dashing sort of figure.
Gilgamesh joins Masamune by the pile of snow and picks it up, packing it into a ball.]
Have you played in the snow before?
[It seems that Gilgamesh may be offering. It's just that whimsical kind of day.]
Just by myself when I was small. I wasn't allowed around other kids much. [ the question seems to take the edge off a little, him offering a bit of undeniable as he answers.
Then, I am officially commandeering this pile as my own. Go find another to arm yourself with.
[Yes, indeed. Two grown men, two "heartless" warriors from two unforgiving eras, are now about to fling snow at each other for fun. Because that's what it means to be an adult.]
[ ah!? Masamune blinks inching away on his knees from the motion directly, although when he finds what the motion is for, he complains (while already going to get a new spot pile, wow)!! ]
Hey! That's not how it works !?
[ a least snow piles are plentiful. Regardless of everything else, Gilgamesh deserves recognition for distracting the dragon so easily from his apprehensive feelings. He seems very much fine now, as if he never had the concern to begin with.
Of course, Masamune is also going to immediately take a snowball after making like... two and throw it aimed to smack Gilgamesh in the head while he's looking down at his snow.
Oops, sorry not sorry for preemptive strike revenge for taking his pile. ]
Yeah, okay, so on top of cold he's buried under a huge bunch of snow now.
After a moment, though, he will reappear popping out from one side but failing to get all the way out. Instead he flops like a fish head first into more snow. Huh. Super graceful right there.
He's got this, though. He won't give up so easily!? Albeit, he sort of rolls around in the snow to get the rest of the way free from the pile, coughing on some snow he swallowed, but he is overall relatively no worse for the wear. Even if there's a lot of snow in his hair instead of Gilgamesh's.
--Ah no, okay, he involuntarily has to let out a couple shivers. it's true dragon is really really cold now especially with snow in places he doesn't want it. It's like going to the beach and getting sand in your swimsuit and in your hair and your butt and—but with snow and more clothes. ]
[Gilgamesh reappears a short distance away, floating on his own energy and carrying something over his shoulder... oh, my. That appears to be some kind of snow gun he's prepared to assault Masamune with, with snow already loaded in it and everything. He's serious about this! Or rather, serious about playing around.
Gilgamesh's finger hovers over the trigger as he grins.]
Oh? Is that it? And to think I was looking forward to actual sport...
For a moment Masamune looks stunned like a child realizing mom's really serious and mad this time around before he bows his head a little before glancing back up with a little grin. He's really cold, which unfortunately is clear in his voice even as tries for it not to be. ]
Hhhuu ...ohh yeah? If you wanted to go m-more hhhardcore, why didn't you just s-say so ... in the first place?
[ Remember that whole seeming much more natural in his element in the cold than in the blistering heat?
Masamune pushes a palm down into the snow rather decisively before there's an invisible burst of something that a few puffs of powdered snow make obvious before small snow spouts start to burst from the ground propelling the snow in these circular columns along and keep moving towards Gilgamesh. Think smaller scale geysers but with snow instead of hot water.
Better get out of the way, king of heroes, unless you want to be punted like a football and then be doused in snow at the same time.
Did you know the little dragon had a second element? Well, you do now, because if you're bringing out the big guns for a snow fight, so is he. ]
When the snowy spouts approach, Gilgamesh weaves his body agilely around them. He doesn't attempt to plow through or vanish this time, but rather makes a show of he can bend himself, how we can weave his figure with effortless grace however he pleases. What started as retaliation quickly becomes performance art as Gilgamesh glides his way to Masamune, twisting circles and grinning coyly at the other man. This is flirtation, courtship, plain and simply. It cannot be called anything else.
It would be impossible not to notice his discomfort, so ever so cleverly he asks:]
Chilly?
[He would be, too, if he weren't a Servant and thus immune to the sort of thing. He cozies up close to Masamune's side and shares some precious body heat.]
Were you truly ready to "play" with me? Or was that simply dragon's bravado talking?
[ For a bit there, Masamune seems fine to provide orchestration to this courtship display that one could argue maybe he knows exactly what it is and what he's doing.
And in a way, he does. He knows flirting and he knows flirting in a game of versus, violence or for some simple roughing around.
It's when he feels the actual heat the other possesses that he is struck off guard. The feeling is not heat of the adrenaline rush, the kind that boils blood and the eases away like low tide from the shore. It's something that feels even better with Gilgamesh reminding him how cold he actually is.
(And there's something saying that he came this far he should not back down. He's curious about it, maybe even morbidly so now and to waste the chance would be the worst decision he could make. His response is quiet, with of bit of shyness (or is that just him being coy) in his body language while his words express a bit differently. ]
Mm... I do want to 'play', if I'll be accepted as a playmate.
[ he's not ready. But that doesn't mean he's not feeling like he wants it anyway if it'll be given to him right now. He knows he shouldn't and he's convinced it's not all him (too sudden a desire that aches). However, what he knows doesn't mean it automatically all works out ideally. ]
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[Gilgamesh pans the portal view outside, giving Masamune a general lay of the land. Namely the large, distinctive red-and-gold tents.]
You may relax here, with me. I shall graciously permit it.
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I'll keep it in mind if I'm out that way, then.
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[It sounds oh so sweet coming from his lips... perhaps too sweet.]
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Don't be too eager, I'm not going out in that desert again for a while. I hate this environment. [ it's not a lie, if one bothers trying to more closely inspect what is behind Masamune, he's actually... actually outside, but what looks to be a very shaded area of a building. Sure enough, that's exactly where he is, including plastering himself the stone walling which is the coolest area the dragon has managed to find in this dumb place. Not surprising, maybe. Water dragons without water are probably not very happy and that's what eastern dragons are. He'd rather be stuck in the middle of an invested demon area with weather conditions more favorable than this.
And just to be super clear: ]
You could have the most thrilling treasures and sex out of this world that I would die for, but I'm still not going unless your oasis has a snow machine.
[ what a miserable little dragon brat. and this is you being nice (and creepy)-- you sure this is what you want Gilgamesh? Dragons aren't that rare are they. ]
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It does.
1/3 ; you're a terrible person
2/3 ; trying to lure him to the van
[ WHAt ]
—No, fuck you, you're a liar!? [ from where...!? ]
3/3 ; with freakin' snowcones!!!???
[ Masa, why... you don't even know a snow machine is, you idiot...!!! ]
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Don't delay, dragon.
action;
Masamune's not even referring to going visiting the person that came closer to spilling his brain matter all over the sand than any monster or demon, but really... just...
it's so hot. Why is it so hot?
At the very least, he's preoccupied by this ... Tent display and has been since noticing it on the way. So, he's actually outside the tent now, not really sure how to make his arrival known and instead staring up the length-height of the tent.
wtf is this a circus ]no subject
Above their heads, a series of portals open up. Golden ones, ones that Masamune won't recognize as they belong to Gilgamesh himself rather than functioning as part of the world. And from those portals, guided by a wordless whisper, snow begins to fall across the sandy landscape.
It's accompanied by a blast of chill, as well, as there's no "snow machine" without the cold behind it. So for a brief time, Masamune will feel relief, and he will know Gilgamesh as a person who kept his word. Just as he said, he makes it snow, and thus turns the desert into his own winter wonderland.
That smooth little smile of his never fades, as if he knew all along that this would be the outcome. Because he did.]
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The feeling of a disguised nightmare isn't far behind it, though. Not because he can see through the other (not at all—the little smile sets off instinctive alarm bells but there's nothing to support them). After all, he still knows nothing about Gilgamesh. Even their first meeting could be chalked up to the scenario that set the stage for it.
(Afterwards, he had been pretty fine, right?)
Catching a bit of snow in his hand, he continues staring up in shock before finally blinking and looking from his palm to the creator of this. Swallowing, the miserable sticky heat has lost influence rapidly on him, making him a little bit more self-aware in the process. A dragon-- or this dragon, at least, seems to be at more disadvantage in the heat. In fact, it's why he usually only ventures around come twilight here. He wants to ask how he did this, but he's not sure he wants to know, either. It just seems to prove, along with the swords and the power before that this king is definitely of divine blood just as claimed.
There's a dilemma now, that he didn't realize (as well as one he doesn't, not even realizing he's showing some obvious dependence). Gilgamesh is the only one who can do this. Maybe he shouldn't get used to it, it most likely is going to come at premium price. Still, even considering a potential rip-off deal, he's just staring at the other person now for two reasons.
One, is of course, he is speechless (and has no idea anything but what he sees at face value now with Gilgamesh good to his word.)
The other is, however, just Gilgamesh himself. For the first time, he takes a really good look at him—he stands out so much more with white falling around him than the countless sandy dunes. Ah, well, he supposes if this person is very well comfortable with propositioning, he must get what he wants often without fuss considering his appearance alone. He's pleasing to look at, certainly, but that's not what is taken away from noticing this. Instead, its more a thought along the lines of what else did I fail to notice?
Masamune blinks suddenly, realizing he's staring and looks of to the side, a bit embarrassed. Ahh, crap... something is unsettling but he doesn't understand what, so he takes it upon himself to crouch down and start touching the snow laying atop sand. ]
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The way Masamune behaves, shellshocked and utterly out of his element, reminds Gilgamesh of a child. Certainly, he was very young, no older than his late teens, although the eyepatch suggested a quick and grizzly ascension through the ranks of his people. It's endearing. And, of course, he's also handsome, with soft chestnut hair that begs for his fingers to run through. The subtle crease of his lip, his sharp chin. He's the spitting image of a youth in his prime and he will always be attracted to that dashing sort of figure.
Gilgamesh joins Masamune by the pile of snow and picks it up, packing it into a ball.]
Have you played in the snow before?
[It seems that Gilgamesh may be offering. It's just that whimsical kind of day.]
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Maybe he's hoping that Gilgamesh is offering. ]
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Then, I am officially commandeering this pile as my own. Go find another to arm yourself with.
[Yes, indeed. Two grown men, two "heartless" warriors from two unforgiving eras, are now about to fling snow at each other for fun. Because that's what it means to be an adult.]
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Hey! That's not how it works !?
[ a least snow piles are plentiful. Regardless of everything else, Gilgamesh deserves recognition for distracting the dragon so easily from his apprehensive feelings. He seems very much fine now, as if he never had the concern to begin with.
Of course, Masamune is also going to immediately take a snowball after making like... two and throw it aimed to smack Gilgamesh in the head while he's looking down at his snow.
Oops, sorry not sorry for preemptive strike revenge for taking his pile. ]
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He seems to have disappeared, but that can't be the case, can it? Perhaps Masamune should be mindful of his surroundings.]
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The young warlord mentally sighs about the portal because more unfairness, eh?
Well, Masamune supposed he'll just have to make due and look around before -- if still necessary -- to also look above himself. ]
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Gilgamesh proceeds to drop a veritable truckload of snow on him. Cold dragon is now very cold.]
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Yeah, okay, so on top of cold he's buried under a huge bunch of snow now.
After a moment, though, he will reappear popping out from one side but failing to get all the way out. Instead he flops like a fish head first into more snow. Huh. Super graceful right there.
He's got this, though. He won't give up so easily!? Albeit, he sort of rolls around in the snow to get the rest of the way free from the pile, coughing on some snow he swallowed, but he is overall relatively no worse for the wear. Even if there's a lot of snow in his hair instead of Gilgamesh's.
--Ah no, okay, he involuntarily has to let out a couple shivers. it's true dragon is really really cold now especially with snow in places he doesn't want it. It's like going to the beach and getting sand in your swimsuit and in your hair and your butt and—but with snow and more clothes. ]
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Gilgamesh's finger hovers over the trigger as he grins.]
Oh? Is that it? And to think I was looking forward to actual sport...
[Come on, dragon. You can do better than that.]
y u gotta be a dick with overkill
For a moment Masamune looks stunned like a child realizing mom's really serious and mad this time around before he bows his head a little before glancing back up with a little grin. He's really cold, which unfortunately is clear in his voice even as tries for it not to be. ]
Hhhuu ...ohh yeah? If you wanted to go m-more hhhardcore, why didn't you just s-say so ... in the first place?
[ Remember that whole seeming much more natural in his element in the cold than in the blistering heat?
Masamune pushes a palm down into the snow rather decisively before there's an invisible burst of something that a few puffs of powdered snow make obvious before small snow spouts start to burst from the ground propelling the snow in these circular columns along and keep moving towards Gilgamesh. Think smaller scale geysers but with snow instead of hot water.
Better get out of the way, king of heroes, unless you want to be punted like a football and then be doused in snow at the same time.
Did you know the little dragon had a second element? Well, you do now, because if you're bringing out the big guns for a snow fight, so is he. ]
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When the snowy spouts approach, Gilgamesh weaves his body agilely around them. He doesn't attempt to plow through or vanish this time, but rather makes a show of he can bend himself, how we can weave his figure with effortless grace however he pleases. What started as retaliation quickly becomes performance art as Gilgamesh glides his way to Masamune, twisting circles and grinning coyly at the other man. This is flirtation, courtship, plain and simply. It cannot be called anything else.
It would be impossible not to notice his discomfort, so ever so cleverly he asks:]
Chilly?
[He would be, too, if he weren't a Servant and thus immune to the sort of thing. He cozies up close to Masamune's side and shares some precious body heat.]
Were you truly ready to "play" with me? Or was that simply dragon's bravado talking?
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And in a way, he does. He knows flirting and he knows flirting in a game of versus, violence or for some simple roughing around.
It's when he feels the actual heat the other possesses that he is struck off guard. The feeling is not heat of the adrenaline rush, the kind that boils blood and the eases away like low tide from the shore. It's something that feels even better with Gilgamesh reminding him how cold he actually is.
(And there's something saying that he came this far he should not back down. He's curious about it, maybe even morbidly so now and to waste the chance would be the worst decision he could make. His response is quiet, with of bit of shyness (or is that just him being coy) in his body language while his words express a bit differently. ]
Mm... I do want to 'play', if I'll be accepted as a playmate.
[ he's not ready. But that doesn't mean he's not feeling like he wants it anyway if it'll be given to him right now. He knows he shouldn't and he's convinced it's not all him (too sudden a desire that aches). However, what he knows doesn't mean it automatically all works out ideally. ]
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