#mutaalliq

low & behold the SERVANT KILLER who finds himself with spine slouched, arms flopped and head tilted back upon the park bench in plain view for all to see. the sun burns far hotter than an april sun of this land should ( he supposes, for a desert-less plain makes for a colder terrain, no? ) thus he soaks in as much of the daylight as he can, glasses shielding scarlet eyes from view as he leans back and merely basks in the radiant glow. as of late, there has been some steady incline in temperature, almost as if the sun itself has approached the earth for a peek at its inhabitants. alas, he knew this not to be the case. perhaps their would-be overlords looked on with some apparent glee at their citizens fanning themselves so prematurely in spring. ah, but gilgamesh was used to heat. he revelled in it as a cat may do on a lazy afternoon.

as the day progresses, gilgamesh does not move from his comfortable seat. the park bench overlooks the entire green landscape ahead, elevated from the rabble of the children’s play area down below as well as the arrangement of picnic tables and such. naturally, he wouldn’t dare be seen sitting down there. no, he sits atop the throne of the hill; the rustling of the nearby tree his only music before he hums to himself amid a gracious relaxing daydream. 

but his peace does not last forever, not when the buzz a servant may feel still rips through their body when another draws so near. at the peak of the sun’s warmth, gilgamesh’s eyes do open. bloody eyes with darker slits adjusting to the light before he leans forward and casts his gaze to the bottom of the hill. indeed, a sight to see stares back at him, in all of his finery and glorified warmth. so typical of him, gilgamesh supposes, to outshine even the sweatiest of april afternoons. “ you. “ he says loud enough for the other to catch.