epidemiology | EVENT ★ POKAREKARE ANA

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EVENT ★ POKAREKARE ANA

NALANNI

Now as weak as any mortal, Nalanni only needs one person to dispatch her. Though Jason has been selected for the sad deed, it would be smart not to let him go it alone.

Once Nalanni ceases to be, the ground quakes and roils. The planet's rock and earth can feel the loss of its mother, and with Ryba still living, the power imbalance throws the world into turmoil. Monsters stream forth from the cave Nalanni had been held on the risen Dakal island. But unlike before, when Pomarr blew through the side of Nalalona and left lava creatures in her wake, these monsters are made of stone. And they are gigantic.

Ranging from five to nine meters (roughly 16-30 feet), the stone golems are slow-moving but powerful, capable of crushing anything in their path with their feet or powerful fists. The golems cannot be spoken to or reasoned with; all they feel is the loss of their mother and the vacuum of power she has left behind. Their mindless anger makes them easily distracted, so teamwork is the best way to keep them at bay. Roughly formed of rock and hardened mud, they are weak to water. Luckily, halfway through the day, a light rain begins to fall.

The golems will continue to come forth from the earth until Ryba is defeated. Upon her death, they will simply collapse into inert piles of stone.

stephan martiniere

RYBA THE DEVOURING ONE

Pomarr stays true to her word and draws the sea goddess to the shore of the deserted island that once housed the Dakal. Without comment, Pomarr turns and steps into an ALASTAIR rift, leaving your team to its business.

Ryba is impossibly large, a mass of twisting, searching tentacles with no discernible body. She is especially weak to electrical attacks, but can otherwise be defeated by simply wearing her down with brute force. Now that you've got your collective powers back, it should be a piece of cake. Right?

ATTACKS:

TENTACLES. Ryba's initial attack is waving her massive, numerous tentacles around to try and keep combatants at bay. Despite their size, they are surprisingly quick -- capable of snapping at anyone who dares get too close, whiplike, or simply crushing those who stay still for too long. Her tentacles are seemingly endless, impossible to count, and move about in a nearly hypnotic way.

THE STORM. After enough damage has been dealt, Ryba will grow more desperate and begin to use her connections to the sea itself. Though the battle is near the shore, sudden winds whip at the recruits, pulling them away from the shallows. Drowning becomes a real danger: the waves are high and fast, and intensely swirling waterspouts crisscross with intent to sweep recruits up, scrambling them.

SHARKNADO. Ryba's last-ditch effort calls upon the creatures of the sea as well as the wind and waves. She creates a swirling vortex with her massive body in the center in attempts to shield herself from attacks. But that's not all -- spinning around her at high speeds with the vortex are sharks. A lot of sharks. And they are all angry.

If characters attempt to speak with Ryba through the battle, she will respond in a calm, dark voice throughout: she has nothing to say to the invaders who would dare take her from the peace of her trench, except that they must destroy her or she will kill them all herself, before the world crumbles to nothing.

Once Ryba is defeated, her massive body will simply cease moving. Goddess or not, it seems her form is as physical as any other creature of the sea.

waqas malik

ISLANDERS

During the day-long battle, characters who choose not to fight are advised to stay behind with the Nalawi to keep them safe. Though the battle rages far to the west, on the once-sunken island of the Dakal, the storms may travel to the westernmost edges of the Nalawi islands. Recruits may attempt to temporarily evacuate the westernmost Nalawi, though there may be considerable resistance.

After the battle, the Nalawi can instantly tell that their goddess is gone for good. Where there was once confusion and desperation in the face of Nalanni's disappearance, there is now only sorrow and directionlessness. All recruits are invited to return to Komo, the first island at the start of the mission, for a somber memorial for Nalanni: the Nalawi don't blame the recruits for what has happened, and only expect them to join in their grief.

For the rest of the time on Nalawi, characters may spend their time as they wish. The locals will need help learning how to cope without their Gifts and how to live without the goddess on whom they had come to rely. They will need help learning all sorts of trades, from fishing to pottery to plumbing, so characters who have knowledge in the mundane will have their time to shine.

But the Timeline is always in need of tending, so recruits can't stay here forever. Say your goodbyes, because soon a rift will open and you'll be headed back to Oska.

OOC INFO

Mods will not be NPCing the Ryba encounter, so you are free to NPC her attacks yourself. Please remember that defeating her is a group effort; no one person will have the "killing blow."

The battle against Ryba will take one full day. After she is defeated, recruits will have 13 days to say goodbye to the Nalawi before departing for Oska.

If characters wish to temporarily stay behind in Nalawi, see here for details.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[she quirks a brow at his offering, alternating her gaze from the goblet to his smile and back again with mild suspicion. whenever Gilgamesh chooses to extend a generous hand she always assumes he must have some sort of hidden agenda. to this day she's still baffled by his decision to impart unto her the young lion cub currently sprawled out in her lap. such a softhearted move gained him no true advantage... that she's aware of. his adamant insistence upon providing her aid in times of strife continues to occur more frequently, yet she's certain she may never grow accustomed to it. it always strikes her as odd... unnatural, even. were they not rivals? one wouldn't know it to look upon them now, lounging together on the beach beneath a sky full of stars.

nevertheless, with all of that in mind, she reaches out to take the prized chalice mere seconds after it is offered without a word.

holding the cup out in front of her she stares down at the dark liquid for a long moment before bringing it to her lips. the delightfully rich and fruity aroma invades her nostrils as the velvety smooth zest of red berries floods her taste buds. she draws back a moment, savoring the first sip of what's bound to be many. that is some damn good wine, sir. she's both surprised and impressed once again at the sheer quality of the drink he provides. his finesse for extravagance never seems to disappoint.

finally the little king's reticent lips begin to loosen.]

How rare it is to see you putting someone else's needs above your own, King of Heroes. Surely you must think yourself more deserving than any other of such a luxury.

[she's a cheeky little thing tonight- perhaps it is just her way of attempting to lighten the mood, as best she is able.]

It is a bit shameful to admit, but even I cannot think too highly of myself right now.

[He even looks the part for that admission, too, eyes drifting away. Legs drawn to his chest, arms curled around, he just looks... young. Young and tired and beaten down by the world, perhaps as Saber had once been after a long battle fought and lost. He's too raw and too exposed at the moment to bear his usual layers of ego, so what's left behind proves more honest. More revealing than he's ever been around the King of Knights.]

I blame myself. I think to myself, "It is because you were so open, so loving, as you were not meant to be."

[Gilgamesh shakes his head and kicks at the sand, a little. A futile gesture, like everything else.]

I became too comfortable with the state of things. So, truthfully, you are within your rights to scold me, as I once scolded you.

[Yes, Gilgamesh remembers that banquet. Remembers it well, and had absolutely no delusions over how poorly he treated her. Nor did he have any apologies to offer.]

[she remembers it well; the smug image of a cruel man who took pleasure in watching her suffer. the Saber from back then wouldn't even recognize the Gilgamesh hunched beside her now. while it's true she much prefers the absent sneer and haughty remarks- something about the way he presents himself to her currently bothers her. it's unsettling in a way she never quite expected. it almost doesn't seem right, that the almighty Gilgamesh would admit fault in himself or speak so openly of personal regret. before now she didn't think him capable of either of those things. not just because he so often preached of himself as a King among all men and thus could do no wrong- but also because she knew him to be a man who never truly let his guard down around others- except for maybe a certain pair of recently retired recruits. this side of himself is a complete stranger to her, at the very least, so it takes a while to fully digest. the wine on the other hand proves effortless to absorb as she slowly draws another sip from the golden vessel.]

Given the chance, would you do it all differently?

[despite the detachment in her voice, she is extremely interested in hearing his answer.]

No.

[Gilgamesh answers without hesitation. Despite the blame, despite how he felt he'd wronged himself in acting this way, how he'd betrayed his station and betrayed what he was meant for and what he was made to do, something holds him back from simply erasing it and starting over. Or rather, it is someone, sitting right beside him.

His eyes flicker back to her, vivid and bright in the fading light.]

I felt warmth. I felt tenderness. And even if it was for but a moment, I saw something. Something beautiful I never thought I could ever witness.

[He remembers how it felt. How she felt. Her hands against his, laughter, and a faint smile, the beautiful girl, Arturia—]

That sight still haunts me. I cannot forget it; I cannot scorn it. I can only move on and treasure what was lost.

[his prompt reply leaves no room for doubt, and Saber finds herself exhaling quietly in unforeseen relief. Good, she thinks. an unobtainable dream will bring only heartache as it can never be anything more than a distant faraway star placed high out of reach. she learned that lesson the hard way. it took her witnessing Archer's struggle with Shirou to finally come to terms with the fact that while she harbors many regrets concerning her past- she was not wrong to follow her ideals. are there still parts of her life she wishes she could do over again? yes. to this day she struggles with knowing it was her own decisions that brought forth the destruction of her kingdom. but she now understands that every choice has a consequence and to undo all that she had done wouldn't save her country, or her people.

she listens to his explanation, focusing in on his eyes as the fire casts dancing shadows within his deep ruby pools. as he speaks, his passion is near palpable. she can feel how important that lingering memory is to him as he describes it, and her own mind begins to drift as she turns her gaze up to the sky. seeking out the brightest star among the masses Saber envisions a remembrance all her own. the corner of her mouth mirrors something of a small sympathetic smile as the vision in her mind grows clearer.]

I am certain Pearl feels much the same.

[a sweetly smiling face, a gentle hand reaching out... these warmhearted descriptions fit the Gem better than any. she is magnificent, and irreplaceable. it's no wonder he finds himself unable to forget her.]

[Wistfully:]

All dreamers must awaken eventually.

[And if it even could, his heart would break.

But it doesn't, because her words are a stark reminder—this is the woman you cannot have, the woman you must chase after eternal. He isn't hurt that she misunderstood. He smiles, too, for how she plays into his expectations; Arturia would never believe she could ever be earnestly sought after. Even if he were to correct her, it wouldn't matter. She'd just refuse the idea of love, of one who firmly she could never be loved in return. That part of her died the day she pulled the sword from the stone.

Gilgamesh turns to her with a near tangible air of excitement and smoothly changes the subject.]

Tell me about Camelot.

[Perhaps it would be bittersweet for her. But it was also the land that she loved, even if it did not love her. Memories both cherished and despised.]

About the Merlin you knew. I heard he was a very wily fellow; is it true?

[he's going to give her whiplash with all of these abrupt changes to the flow of conversation. Saber's clearly not anticipating the sudden shift of focus, the bemused look she casts in his direction following his initial inquiry speaks volumes. generally she's not really particularly inclined to converse much about herself or her "personal life" (if it could be so considered). that's not to say she dislikes speaking about Camelot or her infamous Court Magus... but the fact that it's Gilgamesh asking... makes it seem all the more bizarre. before their time here in ALASTAIR it would be quite impossible to imagine the two of them having civil conversation like this. it almost seems a bit too surreal even now after all they've been through.

after taking a moment to fully process the peculiarity of the situation, Saber finally clears her throat to break the silence between them as she lifts the goblet to her lips in attempt to mask her awkwardness somewhat.]

Mmn, his reputation precedes him with great accuracy.

[It's strange, more than a bit eerie that they could get along for more than a few minutes at a time, but that's where their relationship stands. Or rather sits, side by side with each other, chatting about what doesn't matter any longer and avoiding all the things that did. Before Saber can sneak the cup to her mouth, Gilgamesh swipes it from right under her nose and dares to grin. Even his sour mood, apparently, could not erase his natural impishness.]

Come now. You can manage much better than his reputation precedes him.

[Gilgamesh indulges a hearty sip, swishing the goblet around and lounging on his back with a hand glued to Shishi's mane.]

Always you act so modestly, but your tales are so grand! Take pride. Boast. Be free, Arturia; tonight, I am the last one to judge you.

[And this time, he really means it, as he no longer has the capacity to do so.]

[wow. rude??? he has all the World's treasures in that Gate of his, and so she's fairly certain he could easily fish out a second goblet for himself. but noooo of course he has to go out of his way to be A Little Shit. really it should come as no surprise. Saber simply frowns in response to his flippant behavior- though she can hardly protest when both the cup and the wine belong to him in the first place.]

What more would you have me say? He is as mischievous as they come, a real demon in human form. [ (literally. the man is an incubus.) ] His antics were the cause of every misfortune, the kingdom would have most assuredly suffered less grief were it not for his wayward behavior.

[but then it might have also become a rather dull and boring place for many, Saber herself included. while it's true they were polar opposites in their demeanor, together they brought forth a balance that proved beneficial for the kingdom, as well as themselves personally. there is no one Arturia trusted more- a fact which still remains true to this day.

as for the comment about her being overly modest, Saber scoffs .]

Parading about in one's triumph is not the sole method to expressing one's pride.

[she's certain that's his version of boasting, given he's never been shy when it comes to self promotion in the past.]

If there is something you wish to know of my past then ask it of me directly. I cannot possibly hope to provide a satisfying response to such a vague inquiry on so broad a subject.

Everything.

[For a man so proud, so pompous, it's a quiet admission. He sets the cup down, between them, eyes flickering away and across the water. Knees pulled to his chest, head settled in between, he hardly looks the part of the terrible tyrant now. He just looks like a young man lost, or perhaps just wandering. In time, those uncertain eyes shut, and he pictures another world behind them: the world of Camelot, of castles, and knights, and tales even the Gate couldn't boast of.]

I would hear of how the little knight rode over grassy hills, surveying her kingdom. I would hear of her discourse over the Round Table, the stories, the politics. I would hear of the dances, the festivals, the flowers placed fair in her hair. I would hear of her favorite foods, her picturesque moments...

[I would hear of all the things you'd never tell me, he really means to say. But a world it must've been. What a time, what a King.]

I would hear you speak all through the night of your beloved realm. And then, we would run away, far from here, chasing the sunrise on Shishi's back.

[yeeeeeah, he totally lost her with that last part. she was moderately surprised to hear him speak with what sounded like genuine interest- up until the moment he strayed from history to fantasy. chasing the sunrise on Shishi's back??? Gil pls. let's not get ahead of ourselves.]

If it is your intention to make a mockery of me, I will not stand for it.

[in the first place, it's rather difficult for her to accept that he would prove earnest in his curiosity surrounding her past. to say he longs to hear everything, well that in it of itself is an impossible wish to grant, even despite the unlikelihood that she would prove willing to share every solitary detail of her life with him. this is after all the same man who laughed in the face of her ideals and later urged her to cast away her identity in order to become his bride.

^things Saber has a hard time letting go of.]

Should you wish to be taken seriously I would advise you to refrain from speaking of any more impractical nonsense concerning "You and I".

[there is no We, buddy. and definitely not the slightest chance of running away together. it's just as he said before: All dreamers must awaken eventually. wake up and smell the roses, Gil. or at the very least water her down with some more alcohol first.]

[Despite all this, Gilgamesh smiles, just a little.]

But it would be nice to run, wouldn't it?

[He smiles, and he sets the cup aside, and he lays down, and he shuts his eyes. He's not deterred, exactly, because of course he isn't and of course she'll have to deal with his perverse affections from now until the end of time, but he's tired. He's so, so tired, and Saber reminds him of that. He's tired of going through the motions, of living up to—or failing—someone's expectations. He's tired of himself and he's tired of everyone else, too, and thinks it might be nice to just fade back to the Throne for a bit and rest there.

Like this, Gilgamesh seems truly pitiable. He doesn't even try to argue or tease. He simply curls in on himself as if to hide from the world. As if he really could hop on Shishi's back and let that be the end of it. All dreamers must awaken, lest they choose to pass in their sleep. It was seeming like the more appealing route, almost.]

Or to fly. To fly very far away, to a new world, even. I've never been to any other, besides these miserable places. Perhaps there...

[Perhaps there I will find peace.]

Edited (I SURE FORGOT THE REST OF THAT) 2016-06-24 05:52 (UTC)

[she's never known Gilgamesh to behave this way- it's quite disarming to bear witness to his tower of confidence crumbling before her eyes. he's always been so exceedingly sure of himself and his ability- however now he just appears so painfully lost and vulnerable. but above all else, more than his waning energy or cracked mask of perfection, she recognizes- all too well- the dismal cloud of loneliness that shrouds him.

Gilgamesh is lonely.

the concept seems so extraordinary to her.... and yet all at once it makes perfect sense. it's truly eye opening, to see him in this different light. she's been perceiving him all wrong this entire time. she thought him so unbearably pompous, to view all others as being beneath him- even going so far as to refer to them as mongrels. she had chalked it all up to a matter of ego and narcissism, but perhaps that's not the only reason. she thought him too arrogant to ever treat any other as his equal. she begins to suspect that it is not solely because he views people as unworthy- but rather he refuses to allow himself to form an attachment to others due to a lingering fear of having that bond ripped away from him in the end.

one cannot feel loneliness in the absence of love if they know only solitude. to numb one's self so thoroughly as to forget what it is like to feel warmth and happiness. having Pearl and Enkidu by his side simply served as a full fledged reminder of what it felt like to be close to others... as well as the all too familiar sting of loss upon their disappearance. the fear of letting others in is something Saber can relate to. never knowing who to trust, and thereby trusting no one. it's not healthy, not in the slightest- but for her it was necessary. in the past she'd always viewed human emotion as weakness, so she cast it aside to better suit her aims as King of Britain. if she allowed herself to feel too much for anyone, it would have undoubtedly clouded her judgement- something she absolutely could not allow under any circumstances. her devotion to her country had to come first- nothing or no one could surpass that in importance.

in truth, anyone who ever got close to her only suffered as a result. it was far better to keep everyone at arms length, not just for the sake of the kingdom but for the sake of preserving their own happiness.

it's so bizarre.... she never thought she would reach this level of understanding as far as Gilgamesh is concerned. it takes a moment for the realization to fully sink in. they are not so different, deep down. she's not certain if that should worry her on the account of this is Gilgamesh, or if it could possibly instill some shred of relief in knowing she's not the only one who is silently suffering in this way. she knows one thing for certain, Gil is suffering. and for once, it's not pleasant to watch.]

Running away won't change anything. No matter how far you travel, no matter how deeply you long to forget... you can never truly escape your past.

[the pain of losing loved ones, though seemingly impossible to bear now will grow easier with time. yet those wounds may never completely heal.]

You should not blame yourself, Gilgamesh. All living things experience loss in one form or another. It cannot be helped- not even one so mighty as you can avoid it.

[You can never truly escape your past. What an embarrassing reminder, considering just who was sitting beside him. Arturia of all people knew and understand the weight of one's previous actions. He thinks back to the banquet, where he mocked her mercilessly for being a silly little girl with silly little ideals; maybe that was still true, but their suffering still fell among much the same lines. An inability to change a terrible future. Helplessness in the face of fate. As Enkidu died in his arms back then, so Arturia died upon the hill of Camlann, desolate and alone.

Gilgamesh looks over to her now. Had she seen something, realized something? Suddenly the tone of the conversation was a bit different, like he hadn't offended her just moments ago. Suddenly, she was sympathetic. She even calls him mighty, a word he never thought would leave her lips when describing himself. She seems to be trying to comfort him, in her own way, and it's...

Well, it's humbling. He won't refuse it, not this time. So he reveals to her what most would never hear.]

He died so slowly, all those years ago. It was more like fading away. I've never seen a being suffer so much. I will not forget it; I cannot forget it.

[His fists curl uselessly against the sand. His eyes squeeze shut.]

You say these things, but your heartache upon that hill—do you not yet despair, thinking of what could not be done? Does it not bring you grief, thinking of those that could not be saved? Who else can bear the blame, but the great King, who lived and languished in pursuit of those ideals?

[He's not trying to poke at her, or hurt her, or otherwise make fun. It's an earnest attempt to grasp the condolences she's offered, to process it in his own way.]

[it is a heavy burden he carries with him, a permanent weight placed upon his back that he must shoulder for eternity. there is no cure, no method with which to absolve him of his guilt. just as she can never break free from the demons of her past. a part of her will always remain there on that bloody hill, tormented endlessly by the self destruction she had caused. she can envision it now, as clear as the scenery before them, the barren landscape littered with the fallen bodies of her men and her in the center of the wreckage. she can almost smell the blood of her deceased comrades that drenched her armor.

it was all for naught, the lives she fought to protect- the future she sought to preserve- all turned to dust and ash at her feet. the realization that she'd failed them all is what hurt the most.

she swallows thickly, her expression pained as she averts her eyes.]

There is no one to blame but myself for the mistakes I have made. That hill was a hell of my own making, a sin for which I shall never be redeemed.

[in the end she wished only for their happiness, her own never once mattered. so long as her people prospered, so too did she. it's why she thought only of them and their salvation in her quest to acquire the Holy Grail both in life, and after.]

There are wrongs I can never make right, no matter how desperately I wish I could undo what was done...

[Lancelot, Guinevere, Mordred... how many others had she driven to madness? how many lives had she lead astray? lifting her hand with a palm full of sand she slowly parts her fingers, allowing the sand to slip through.]

I could not see the signs... Camelot did not fall in the span of a single day. The utopia I had built slowly wasted away, it's people starved of their faith. I was blind to their suffering, and so I cannot hope to seek their forgiveness in this life or the next.

Arturia...

[How beautiful her name felt, on his tongue. How beautiful she looked, even in—especially in—the midst of despair like this. He sits up to admire her, those eyes that refused to shed a single tear more, the unhappy crease of her mouth and the slight bow of her head. She shows shame before him, and this is notable, because it is the last feeling she would ever want to exhibit in front of the proud King of Heroes who once so thoroughly lambasted her for it.

Should he reach out? Should he touch her? No, it would be misconstrued. She would suspect more of the same from before, back when this was all just a point of twisted amusement for him. She has shown him shame so he must show her sincerity in order to maintain some measure of trust.

And, against his own nature, he finds that he wants to. If only due to their shared sadness, partners in suffering.]

You ruled as you saw fit. As a King, you were not mistaken.

[But as a person, as a foolish idealist... well, she already knew how he felt. Neither of them could really speak without bias on that front.]

Any failures you perceived are not reflected in this place. I was wrong to say it; you should not run. You should never run. With your armor, that shines, and your sword, that blazes, you were always meant to face the day. You are a brave Hero, the cornerstone of so many that came after you. And I...

[He hesitates, but for a moment. While they're being so upfront with each other, he may as well say it.]

I am content to call you my kin. You were a worthy opponent, and your victory over me—it was fair and it was just, at least in our present world.

[pulling herself together, she glances over at him. his expression is soft, his words are kind, she realizes now the man sitting next to her is a complete stranger. she thought she'd had him figured out- but she was wrong. he continues to surprise her, day after day. the compassionate gestures he's made- some grand, others small but no less meaningful, have collectively swayed her opinion of him little by little.

nonetheless it is strange to hear him speak words of encouragement, to go so far as to praise her accomplishments and her status. such words she never imagined would fall from the lips of the ever prideful King of Heroes in her company. she holds her gaze steady, quietly accepting all he has said with a more or less neutral expression. gradually her frown lessens, and the tension in her face begins to ease somewhat.]

Your words do not go unappreciated Gilgamesh...

[it's as close to a 'thank you' as he's gonna get. truthfully she's still not quite certain what to make of this conversation- or of him. she did not admit to her faults with the expectation of being consoled in any way, shape or form. the only comfort she seeks is, perhaps, more spirits with which to drown her sorrow. reaching out she aims to reclaim the forgotten goblet left between them so that if nothing else, she might lessen the weight of the past, if only for a short while.]

I cannot give you anything.

[This Gilgamesh freely admits, shoulders sinking at his sides. He can give her gifts, maybe, these scarce and surprising words of encouragement, but what would that really do? What would it even accomplish, when the conflict of previous war had defined their relationship? There was no room to start over. There was no room to erase the past, and just as she said, they couldn't run from it anyway.

All that's left is this hodgepodge of interactions they've formed now. In truth, he's just as uncertain as Saber—or maybe now he'd started to think of her as Arturia. He has no time for a wife here, and even if that were the case, there's no desire for it. He desires to see her laugh and smile, as she did that night before the bonfire; he desires to see her pained, strained and emotional and struggling; but he cannot say he has lust for her hand any longer.

In fact, right now, he cannot say he has lust for anyone, and that was the truest red flag of all.]

I cannot do anything, either... I do not even know what you would desire from me, other than to simply vanish.

[Indeed, all that's left is to drink their sorrows away. Gilgamesh gives Shishi a hearty pat, sets his hand over a great paw and squeezes.]

Regardless, we can only move forward from here. We are Servants; we must live, we must fight. There is nothing else for us.

[At least in that much, he thinks, they understand each other.]

There is nothing that can be done- not only by you, but by anyone.

[she had hoped the Holy Grail would prove the answer to her prayers- but even that hope was squandered time and again. in the end, that tiny flickering light was snuffed out and she was forced to accept that nothing but the memory would remain, everything else had all gone up in smoke.]

It is as you say, there is only one direction in which we may travel and that is forward.

[there is no way of knowing what the future will hold for either of them. nevertheless the universe will go on, with or without them. that much has already been proven.

not long ago this conversation is something Saber herself would have never thought possible. had he spoken to her months prior of a desire to see him vanish she would have wholeheartedly agreed. now, though? well... she can't say she actively seeks such an outcome any longer. which is quite a monumental shift in opinion, as far as the stubborn king is concerned. she's spent a great deal more time with him these past few months and while not all of it was spent willingly, it's proven enough to change her view of him all the same. in this moment, they are not so different. fumbling around in the pitch black void of grief, who else can they hope to possibly relate to at a time like this? if it's any consolation, at the very least they know their suffering is mutual.]

Would you want for something else?

[something more than just to live and fight. they both know of her reason for her participation in the Holy War, but his own true ambitions have never been revealed to her.]

Is there something more you wish to make of this life?

[Gilgamesh needn't think on his reply. He simply tells her:]

I wish to live forever.

[For what more could he make of such a glorious life, save that it would last for all eternity?]

[ah, perhaps she should have expected such an answer given his quest for eternal life in his legend. nevertheless, after all that's been shared tonight she finds herself curious.]

Immortality... the concept does seem rather spectacular, in theory.

[Saber looks up to the stars, nursing the goblet of wine.]

However I think ... after a while ... life itself would then become an endless series of disappointment.

[doomed to repeat the same cycle of love and loss over and over. after all, nothing in this world can truly last eternal. even if Gilgamesh were to achieve such a goal, the world around him would still wither, the people he meets would become a mere passing glance. entire life spans would pass in the blink of an eye compared to forever, but he alone would remain.]

How lonely it would be... to remain the sole constant in a universe where nothing lasts forever. Would it not be better to achieve even just a single lifetime of happiness, one with no regrets?

[such is the deepest desire of a girl who lived her life for others and never got the chance to live for herself.]

Edited 2016-07-08 04:08 (UTC)

[Saber has hit upon the truth without ever even realizing it. "I wish to be immortal," he might say; but already he knows a brand of it, and has come dislike it, has even grown mad because of it. Because of those endless observations, because of his life, dedicated to humanity, watching them grow old and pass him by while he stayed very much the same. Alone. Forever. Without interruption or exception.

But that was his duty, wasn't it? That was the reason for his creation. So even if he loathed it, he couldn't disobey. Like Saber, he could only keep reaching for the treasures in front of him, or in her case just one. A treasure that turned out to be false. Really, if Gilgamesh had to describe his life as of now, it would fall along those same terms: a bright and shining reality that wasn't. How ironic, as he once tormented her for it in the past, chasing such ideals.

How lonely would it be? Tonight, and only tonight, Saber will receive an honest answer.]

Painfully so. Excruciatingly so. Heartbreakingly so.

[But there was never any choice left to me. Despite that...]

But it would not be as you say. I am as I was made, as I could only ever be; I had my Camelot, as well as my Camlann, and I regret nothing in between.

[Nothing, save for one event she could already guess at.]

If that were true, I do not think you would yearn for such a thing as eternity.

[if he were truly satisfied with everything, if he had not a single shred of remorse for all that had happened and all he had done, then he would welcome death just the same as he had lived- without regret. a life that has been fulfilled in every possible way- what more could one ask for? to long for eternity would risk shattering that perfection. too often opportunities arise to make mistakes, to avoid them for even a single life time would be a miracle- to hope for anything more is an illusion.]

Do we not all yearn for freedom?

[Yet freedom and eternity were not interchangeable. He's testing her.]

Bound to flesh and chained to a never ending existence, left perpetually at Fate's mercy- what part of such a life resembles freedom?

[she looks to him then, as if to ask what freedom means to him. he insists he was made to look after humanity- but is that what he himself truly desires in life? that is the path that was chosen for him- just as her own life had been predetermined before she was born. if they hadn't been born under such expectations, what sorts of lives would they have lead?

a life where they could choose what they want for themselves and decide for themselves how they wish to accomplish it. she can think of no clearer concept of freedom.]

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babbylon - 2016-07-08 05:42 (UTC) - Expand

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