#babiraus

[1/6]: it's alive! it's alive!

[2/6]: gilgamesh!

[3/6]: my king!

[4/6]: i know you're there...you can run, but you can't hide!

[5/6]: i wanna play a game!

[6/6]: be afraid. be very afraid.

◣♚◢ “Horrendous… If you were not illiterate, I would have beaten you with the stylus already. Listen closely, it is Gilgamesh. Shall we try one more time? This time, try not to make it sound like a mouthful of stone.”

Riposte hast forthwith borne shame ❜pon the warrior's visage, despondence exuded and likely response to her most recent failure. Natheless, she listens intently upon the pronunciation of His Majesty's name, teeth scraping at a bottom lip while she carefully considered how best to emulate such a sound for herself. Lips part but pause an intake of breath, afore allowing the triple syllables to roll from her tongue.

                        ❛ Gílgamesh. ❜

And lo, wherefore this merchant doth purloin of pride and deny their services henceforth —— a shallow dip of the head, e❜er perplexed; were not five gold pieces enough remittance for but a single bag of rice? Yet another proffering of the coin, thence thrice rebuffed. In a manner unbefit of a Warrior, the rice is displaced atop the counter in a toss fueled by ire, rice spilling over the counter akin to a waterfall, cape fluttering as she rounded ❜pon her heel and made haste in her exit from the establishment, much to the chagrin of the shocked shopkeeper.

Now, the mighty bulwark that was the austere mien adorned by the woman crumples beneath the weight of outrage and dubiety; and tongue that never speaks rejoinders of the shopkeeper in foreign tongue (thus hailing the ungainly stares of passersby, for they knew not of which she spake, and thought her deranged) lips curling in distaste.

███▓▒░░ ☾ ———— Lips parted in a sigh, definitely bruised, scarlet dotting along the outline of her mouth, aware that the initiation of biting was hers to blame. Not that she minded. He triggered her sense of carnal want, of desire, a need that she became familiar with once she had been bestowed humanity. In the aftermath, their heartbeats continued echoing loudly within her as if she was still hollow enough for the noise to reverberate inside the cavity of her ribcage. She had allowed herself to fall under her spell; to be compelled by his charms, but it was always under her terms.

Unconventional didn’t even begin to explain them at all but then again, neither of them have ever been the kind to follow the wills and wiles of the masses. Fingers rested on his chest, drawing patterns of stars, the sun, and the entire galaxy; painting a portrait of how she saw the golden king, Gilgamesh. The space from her to him was measured in the negatives and she couldn’t really remember where one body ended and the other began.

❝The more I try to move on, the more I feel alone.❞

She turned to him with a mischievous smirk on her lips, a look in her eyes that implied how much she had to resist the overwhelming urge to smother his contemplative face under a pillow. Really, hadn’t she heard this enough times already? They were created meant to be a pair, never meant to be one without the other and now, they don’t have to be, ever again.

❝Mᴜsᴛ I be reminded of your love for theatrics? I am here with you now.❞ Having none of it, Enkidu promptly and mirthlessly pinched his bruised cheek, pulling the soft skin far as it could stretch, ❝Sᴛᴀʏ in this moment with me, lest I’ll drag you back by force.❞

███▓▒░░ ☾ ———— There was no knowing what world she had stepped out into. Peeking behind thick branches was the moon, large and radiating; helping those who needed its light to guide them home, but its telling secrets were dulled, not as vivid as she remembered, and it made her wary. The surrounding area seemed to be asleep. It was not a pressing silence, but rather a comforting one suspended in the air, and for a moment she reveled in it, the silence, breathing in the air around her. The wind sung lullabies, flitting in and out, making her hair and tunic dance alongside its melodies.

Enkidu's attention would focus towards the night sky, adoring the constellations, tracing them with her mind. Her fingers would reach to draw shapes and figures mid-air, wanting to grab those stars and kiss softly them for their sheer brilliance. The hidden creatures warned her of a presence nearby; pale eyes squinting and seeking and wondering where, who, why. Her feet began moving before her thoughts caught up.

Gilgamesh, she pondered, testing how the name made a lingering sensation of flutters come into her stomach. He's here.

She sighed softly, striding over to the resting form, half obscured by the tall grass but nonetheless the king, her king, was unmistakable. A small smile played on her lips, hands wrung behind her back, equal parts amazed at the sheer beauty of her king caught in peaceful slumber, but reveling in how very tempting it would be to be the one to disturb it. Boundaries were never something she particularly liked to adhere to. He seemed so warm, so solid, so inexplicably real that the clay beast had to resist the urge to press a hand to his cheek to make sure he was really there.  

A hand rose slowly and she gave him a swift slap.

❝Gɪʟɢᴀᴍᴇsʜ! Do you play me for the fool, my dear friend? To have someone invade your personal space and still you pretend to slumber? I know you well enough to know that you enjoy to play games but this is hardly how one should greet a companion you must have surely missed. I'm insulted.❞

Host

As the mind of Five became the reality for the traveler the first thing that struck them was meant to be the grand architecture of the ruined buildings that dotted the beaches, or the sight and smell of sea air and fresh fish. Those were the things that, in her own strange preferences, drew her to request to take over the Land of Seas when her older sister managed to take control of the land. But here, at the greatest ancient amphitheatre in the country those sights and smells were replaced by ones very different indeed.

First, the stench. A mash of salt water, blood, and rotting flesh. A smell that had festered and hung in the air for weeks, maybe even months. It was enough to make those with weaker stomachs churn. It took no genius to realise that the disgusting smell had come from an equally disgusting sight.

Ah yes, the sight. The powerful Intoner herself was right there, sprawled on the ground like a leftover piece of meat. The carcass, because it had obviously ceased to be a person long ago, had turned a sickly green-brown colour as the decay set in; limbs where the rigor had been set were bent out of shape as if they had been stomped on, and the flesh had been rent by what appeared to be a sword, a spear, and even the carrion that had managed to find it for the taking. The once oh-so fine skin that the woman had cared for to an almost obsessive degree was covered in splotches of dried blood - black and cracked by the hot sun's rays. If these were truly Five's memories then her sense of humour was even sicker than it normally appeared to be if this was the one she wanted her travelers to see.

♟ — something my muse admires

Nelliel has an undying admiration for the strong. And by this, I don’t only mean physical strength, since there are many who fall under this category that she would deem unworthy. She admires those with modesty that try their hardest and give everything they try their hand at their all. She will always respect those with the ability to protect others, as well as ambition and perseverance— very openly, if I may add. I don’t see her as hesitant to tell anyone that they’re damn good as a person if she comes to feel that way. 

Also, as a less-serious second answer; she admires anything soft.

☁ — something that make my muse sad