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       HE FOUND comfort being in peace, as did many others, but when he was said to be humanity’s hope, the savior of the world, the one so many relied on, it felt almost as if Gudao was expected to be always on the battlefield, always doing all he could and all he couldn’t to help others. But at times - of course, at times, Gudao had the need to isolate himself in peace and enjoy calm times that were much too rare. Calm alone times was what the Master was looking forward to, but coming across a Servant he knew well, a Servant who enjoyed silence just as much – there was no way he wouldn’t appreciate such rarity.

       Gudao approached slowly, careful steps through the grassfield not to be sneaky, but not to startle either the Berserker or the birds that so happily perched on his horns. ❝ … Asterios? ❞ He hadn’t noticed at first - the wounds. When the boy finally spoke, was simply out of concern. ❝ You are hurt… Would you let me heal you? ❞ 

the crunch of grass beneath an encroaching footfall jostled his nerves, and the swift turn of his head loosed a flurry of birds into the trees. he flinched at their departure, and shortly after recognising the intrusion. he knew that face-- a kind face, with kind eyes; a warmth he felt was beyond his reach. he remembers now, and the memories soothe his caution, the tension in his posture ebbing away. 

upon mention of his wounds was he reacquainted with their sting-- oh... that’s right... he was bleeding a lot. his note fell to an angry graze staining a knee, before casting it aside, as if haunted by a wordless shame.

          “.... m-mmn....” but it hurt.... “is it... really... okay... i won... der...”

     ☾ And sure enough as the other begins to lost himself to his memories, the Gargoyle swoops in with rather impeccable timing. Landing as gently as she can, the brunette stands a few yards away from his seated frame, leaning in softly as she gazes at the weapons he holds…

     Before she quietly plops a daisy on his fluffy mane.

     ❝ There! That suits you, but you know, it would look even better if you smiled, too! ❞

there was a touch, so delicate like a whisper, that he thought he may have been dreaming it. but his dreams were never so kind, and Berserker’s eyes flew open. a tickled instinct guided his hand, gripping tight the steel and he readied to swing-- before he saw her.

                                                    Angela.

the ferocity in his eyes, shadowed by the tousled mop of white over his brow, melted away to wonder, as if waking from a slumber. with a blink, he reached blindly for the flower, plucking it gently from his hair. transfixed by it, the words fell numbly from his lips.

          “suits... me...?” but he couldn’t smile like she wanted, only lowering his gaze.

                                                  he was nothing so beautiful.

Under that scarred muscle he really was a big softie; all gentle touches and light hesitation, as if he feared breaking something through simple contact. It made sense – berserker’s weren’t the most careful class out there – so Mordred didn’t pay it much mind. Hell, she was terrible with fragile things – plates and cups and glass work, she had to be careful with everything. But the thought lingered, just underneath.

“Haa, so you like that, huh?” From the crumbs caught in his mane and the shimmer in his eyes, the answer was obvious enough. “Great! Okay, wait there a second. Don’t move, got it?” Mordred raised a finger then turned, sauntering back to the counter to change words with baker, still dazed at the sheer size of the figure in his doorway.

After a moment of low whispers and looks over the shoulder (and the baker disappearing once into the back room), Mordred returned with a box. Popping the lid, she revealed several more cupcakes, each a different size, topped with another colour and wondrous design; some with stars and moons and tiny hearts.

“I dunno what you like, so I got a bit of everything. Got some for myself as well. People say eating with someone makes it special, or whatever, but I think these cakes are just that nice.” Smiling, she passed the cupcake over, nudging gently on his bulky arm with a the back of her hand, the other holding her own cupcake. “Go ahead.”

should he not be more afraid? should he not bare his teeth and snarl away her gift, her generosity? he’d spent so long fighting the world, why should he stop when it had given him little reason otherwise? but then... it started to smile at him, to show him kindness, to treat him like he belonged. he didn’t want to hurt anyone-- he didn’t want to push them away. she was... nice, and he’d wanted nice all his life.

dragging his tongue across his palm, lapping up stray crumbs not to waste a single one, her gesture beckoned his attention and he watched curiously as she hurried away. tipping his head aside, observing her trade words with the man behind the counter, it was shortly after she returned with a box in hand. it carried with it that same, soft smell, and he found himself leaning toward it, giving it a tempered sniff-- before she revealed its contents. 

          “... u-uu...”

          “... pretty....” alike a child did a glow brighten his features, gaze brimming with wonder as it swept over the different shapes and colours.

everything looked so... tasty. he wanted to eat it! instinct reined in a hand at first upon her offering, but though he did still accept it, it would seem his reluctance fought a fierce battle. you don’t deserve this, it said. and so he looked upon the other with growing concern.

the dust had settled, and Asterios, with little want to linger among the souls of so many lost to that destruction, took to the bowels of Auburn where he could rest his weary bones and aching wounds. the grass was still green here, and the birds will still chirping. he knew, because a few had made a perch of his horns, while others nestled in his mane.

everything was hurting, the sting like a rash. he was still however, mind adrift a distant sea of thoughts all his own, and they were all he could hear. an ill-forged peace.

he’s alone with the memories, hugging these monsters close to his chest as he hunkers down beneath a tree. he could still smell the blood staining their blades, see every face fallen to their wrath-- he murmured quietly to no-one.

@oevrumines

     ☾ While she has only just recently arrived back into the city, it doesn’t take the Gargoyle long to get a grasp on what’s currently happening in the Hive.

     Climbing a nearby building in order to get a clearer view of the landscape below, the brunette wastes no time in digging her claws into the stone before her. Quickly does her frame make its way up the architecture, soon reaching the top after a few moments. Perching on a ledge as she observes the strange things, it becomes clear to Angela that they mean to bring harm to anyone and anything that comes within their vicinity.

     Keeping watch as the moon continues to loom over the Earth below, a glint of white in the distance catches her eye. Squinting in efforts to better see what it could be, the older teen soon realizes that it’s the figure of someone familiar to her. As a result, the girl jumps off the building now and spreads her wings, now flying through the sky towards her new destination.

     ❝ Oh, it’s you! ❞ comes her greeting from above as she soars over the man’s figure, circling him for a moment before finally landing onto the ground once more.

     ❝ You know about those things roaming around the city, don’t you? If you do, then you’ll realize it’s not a good idea to walk around alone. ❞

these things were wrong-- they smelled wrong. everything was rotting; dying, and a familiar stench like an old friend filled his nostrils. it set his blood on fire, and every nerve screamed to take up his arms, to destroy, to kill. it wasn’t without thought, or consideration, that he felt this way, no-- he didn’t want to tear apart whomsoever wandered into his reach. he wanted to crush the things that inspired this panic. they were mean... they were evil.

                                           they reminded him of what he was.

asterios swung an axe, the impact sending one such creature hurtling through a building with devastating force. he bellowed after it, a roar with claws all its own rattling the silence, and on its death were ragged breathes, growls punctuating each. his grip tightened about his weapons, grinding against his calloused palms-- before a voice drew his heed. he followed it, turning as if meaning to catch it, when the pitter-patter of feet scuffing on stone denoted a landing behind him.

rage mounting, he whirled on the approach, meeting it with a harsh snarl.

          “rrrgh--!”

                         but it was her, and her gentle eyes-- her eyes that didn’t hate nor fear him.

his ferocity ebbed away with his realisation, so too did his features soften, arms dropping, and he ventured her name with a cautious hope.

          “... a-ahh--”

          “ange... la.... angela...! here... okay...!” 

encased in glass were all sorts of colourful and wonderful things, different shapes and sizes. food, he thought, and in his fervor, he leaned further, bending his knees to step inside–

                                                      CLANK!

     ☾ Tilting her head lightly as the other attempts to gather up the the various pieces of rubble on the ground, the brunette can’t help but wonder why he is doing such a thing. Does he, perhaps, think she hurt herself somehow and that the stone is still a part of her? While it seems likely, Angela’s thoughts are only confirmed as the stranger begins to speak up… Rather softly, at that.

     At his concern despite the Gargoyle’s rather surprising and abrupt awakening, the brunette can’t help but chuckle gently at his words. Perhaps it’s because he himself isn’t human either but his concern for her well being is… Well, endearing.

     ❝ Oh, I’m perfectly fine, ❞ she starts with another smile, taking a step forward in attempts to close the distance between the two of them. Though only a few steps are taken, it becomes more apparent to Angela just how tall this stranger is. In fact, he might be taller than her father which is quite a feat in and of itself!

     ❝ That’s just how I sleep; during the day I turn into stone and dream and at night I awaken. That’s just the Gargoyle way! So there’s no need to worry. ❞

strangely, it wasn’t with sadness, nor rage, did she face him, no such weight harrowing her words. in its stead was a tenderness, laughter, and for a moment, it ruled his focus. it were as though he was seeing something for the first time, expression writ with child-like intrigue as his tension ever slowly abated. this wasn’t someone broken, and in pain-- she was okay... she was okay.

          “... o-okay...” wept a weak response, too rapt in her smile.

his shoulders slackened, straightening upon her approach and still yet to avert his gaze. why? why was she coming closer? wasn’t she scared of him, like so many others had been before her? did she not know what he was? he was numb, dazed by so many a question stumbling and catching in his throat. he’d only ever known another’s terror, or their wrath, but as of late, he’d been gifted kindnesses, looked upon without fear as he’d yearned for.

                                      ... but the gods needn’t listen to the wishes of monsters, did they?

          “... dream...” he repeated blankly, a blink then prefixing the question to follow, “’gar... go... yle’...?”