[closed] you're not alone.

[babbylon]

CHARACTERS: Gilgamesh and various characters
DATE: throughout the team's stay in Oska
WARNINGS: None anticipated, besides some angst; will update if necessary.
SUMMARY: Gilgamesh has gifts to give! And though he's not really in the mood to do it, give them he shall.

[This is a catch-all for Gilgamesh's purchased gift-giving extravaganza! Individualized starters are below.]

Comments

Archer

[babbylon]

[Gilgamesh had messaged Archer with a simple directive: come to my quarters when you are available. It was no different from the others, and so it implied the same expectations; however, when footsteps draw near and Archer enters, Gilgamesh does not leap eagerly to his side and drag him to bed as he would often do in the past. Instead, he sits almost solemnly on the mattress and doesn't appear to notice he's arrived at all.

Eventually he does stir, eyes flitting briefly to the other man's, before he retrieves a wrapped box at his side.]

Approach. I have something for you.

[The box looks hefty, covered in golden paper. Even to Archer's withered mind, it will be obvious just what Gilgamesh offers him here: a deliberate present.]

[anti_altruisms]

[ He isn't entirely certain what to expect when he walks through Gilgamesh's door. They last spoke during the battle with Ryba, and he's aware that the other has experienced two painful losses since then.

For that reason, Archer doesn't know whether the usual will happen this evening or not. He closes the door behind him, and the sight that greets him is...different. He hesitates, unsure what to make of it before Gilgamesh invites him closer.

He looks from Gilgamesh to the package with bafflement -- not because he doesn't know what it is, but rather because he's confused that he's been offered a gift in the first place. ]

Why?

[babbylon]

Why not?

[Gilgamesh breaks the stiffness in the air and smiles. But is a faraway smile, a distinctly unhappy smile. How ones smiles when they are trying to put up a front rather than be genuine. It's not as if he's angry with Archer, as he has no cause to be; it's more like he's remembered something he'd forgotten all this time.

He'd forgotten they were meant to be enemies, rather than something like...]

I was given an item I have little use for, so I decided to pass it onto you. It's simply a matter of convenience.

[But then why bother to wrap it? Why bother to summon him here, instead of leaving it at his doorstep? Gilgamesh just shakes the box, imploring him to take it.]

Go on. You are allowed to have it. It is yours.

[anti_altruisms]

[ He notices.

Archer isn't one to impose on others, and he can tell when walls have gone up -- mostly because he's guilty of it all the time. So even though he says nothing about Gilgamesh's demeanor, he notes that there is a distance in place now that was broken down over the course of weeks and months.

He understands, too, why it has returned.

He takes the gift (not a convenience) and unwraps it carefully. When he gets to the box and opens it, his eyes widen slightly as he withdraws one of the arrows. It's the same look on his face, the same curiosity he exhibited when he brushed his fingers against the walls of Gilgamesh's ship when they first arrived on Nalawi. That fascination for how things work, history, legends, and ancient things -- he sets it down in the box, and for a moment, it seems, he's at a loss for words.

A box of arrows from a now-dead civilization may not mean much to Gilgamesh, but it does to him.

His answer, when he manages it, is soft. ]

Thank you.

[babbylon]

[It didn't. Not really, anyway. Truth be told, there were many boxes just like it buried in his Gate somewhere; ALASTAIR had justdone him the courtesy of presenting one to him upfront, so rather than toss it in the equivalent of an enormous closest, he decided to pass it onto someone he knew would appreciate it. That was all.]

Did you even remember what it was like? To receive a present.

[Even in his current mood, Archer's reaction was... well, cute. He steps forward, touches his wrist, gently. The faintest sign some heart within him still beats.]

I suppose, if I am being honest... I wished to see it. The astonished look on your face that was only for me.

[anti_altruisms]

[ He has received a present since he arrived -- from Rin, in fact, during their stay in Chantes. He simply didn't expect to be given another. ]

...I have very few memories of my past.

[ It's a tattered patchwork of images and voices, and the failures stand out more than anything else. Whatever good there was, unfortunately, is mostly overshadowed by the bad.

He looks down at the fingers brush against his wrist, and after a moment, he turns his palm and gently presses their fingers together. His eyes come up, finally meeting the other's gaze. ]

I cherish the good ones.

[ Without them, he really would have nothing. ]

[babbylon]

[The fingers are gone just as fast, and Gilgamesh turns away, tone crisp.]

I have a favor to ask of you. It will require a good chunk of your time, and you are well within your rights to refuse.

[Though as ever, Gilgamesh doesn't expect him to. In this light, it makes the gift almost seem like a bribe, or else a segue to a more difficult conversation. Either way, Gilgamesh goes on, himself not knowing if he'll agree to it or refuse outright.

But he must try.]

ALASTAIR has offered me the opportunity to witness my fate, further in the future... but only with aid of another. One who has seen it for themselves.

[If that isn't enough, Gilgamesh will tell him, point blank:]

I would see it. I would confirm it, Archer, all the claims you have ever made, and what I sought to do. Show me the future where I would destroy it all.

Sieglinde

[babbylon]

[And, as promised, Gilgamesh visits each and every day.

He comes to her, just before breakfast, always eager to hear what she has to say. They eat together. They smile together, and laugh together... or rather, Gilgamesh tries to do so. Mostly he comes across as distant and stilted. The smiles aren't true smiles. The laughter rings hollow at best. He swore to shut himself away, and so in a sense, he has. This is a forced happiness, a false happiness, a routine Gilgamesn endures just so he doesn't fade into depression entirely.

One day, Gilgamesh pats the spot beside him and tells Sieglinde he has a surprise for her. He reaches into his Gate, which he now must be ever wary of due to prana consumption, and pulls out a stack of what appears to be books covered in wrapping paper. Of course, it could be anything, knowing Gilgamesh, and his faint smirk gives nothing away.]

These came into my possession recently, but I believe they were meant for you. Go on; open them up.

[If nothing else, seeing the look on her face may serve to lift his spirits, however slightly.]

[grunehexe]

[Gilgamesh's visits have been a blessing.

Even though she knew it would be difficult, even though she knew it would make her even more of a burden for the time being, (the reason she was doing it in the first place, not to be that any longer), even though she knew the wait would be excruciating... Two days after she returned from Nalawi, Sieglinde had asked Masamune to help her rebreak her feet.

The pain had been excruciating, and it hadn't dulled much since, each day having to unbandage the now normal sized feet and make sure the bones hadn't moved, retighten the splints, massage the heel to encourage bloodflow to return as best it could. Maybe she could make it easier with magic... But it had been done to her without, and she wished to fix it like that... Like she would have had to if she remained in her own world. It's worst in the morning, before she can take medicines and apply a numbing balm, but Gilgamesh helps her forget. She had a feeling she was helping him do the same... But both didn't bear addressing.

They could smile and laugh and maybe gradually they would return to their full potential.]

- for me?

[She was surprised by the sudden offer, watching in quiet excitement as Gilgamesh reached into the Gate, the magic that had first fascinated her so many months ago now, pulling out... Books? She was tearing through books Masamune brought her from the Oska castle library as if they were nothing with as much time as she was spending in bed, so she gratefully took the bundle in her hands, placing them in her lap and looking at Gilgamesh to try and read what they might be on his face. She failed- the smirk told her little though it did make her smile, biting into her bottom lip eager to find out what it was, trying to open the wrapping carefully and not give in to the desire to rip.]

[babbylon]

[A strong child, he's noted each time he's come to see her, stalwart as he's grown to expect. The pain must be excruciating, but she bears it. She bears it because she knows she must no longer run away from herself, or from others. In a sense, he admires her for that, because it had been something he's always been guilty of deep down. Running away from responsibility and from reaching out to those he was supposed to protect.

Gilgamesh watches her tiny hands make slow, careful work of the paper. In time, she reveals a rustic tome, with beakers and flasks pictured on the front of a dusty cover. Inside are pages detailing all sorts of concoctions and recipes, herbs from worlds over, and in general a plethora of knowledge for any young alchemist, botanist, or magus to absorb. He knows it will occupy her for hours, and for this reason, he's grateful for ALASTAIR's "anoymous" gift.

On top of the tome rests a romance novel that someone seemingly selected just for her. Out of curiosity, Gilgamesh had paged through it, only to discover the steamiest portions had been censored... but perhaps that was for the best with an imaginative mind such as hers. Another thoughtful gift, if a bit more questionable than the last.

Gilgamesh may have been in a sour mood, but if he could like anything right now, it was gift-giving. He leans forward, eager to gauge her response.]

Well? Will these do, for my favorite royalty?

[grunehexe]

[People often spoke of a glow that suffused people at certain times- a woman when she was newly expecting, a man at his proudest, a child when surprised with a gift... But those things didn't quite hold a candle to the expressions that so blatantly flicker across Sieglinde's face. Enthusiasm and excited curiosity move quickly into a joyful surprise to find the books within, small fingers reverently tracing the large tome's cover before she opened it, eyes widening in excitement to see such things written within. Potions and concoctions both magical, alchemical, and scientific... Mixes and in between...]

You honor me muchly... They will more than do, this is perfect-

[She completely forgot about the pain in her feet for the moment, bursting with a combination of desire both to thank Gilgamesh and also just to throw herself into studying the book this very instant, but she forced herself to look at the second... A novel, this one, and... One quite of the same genre Loki had recently introduced her to.

Her expression growing a bit lewd, a bit ah, so that's how it is (at least, she thought that's how it was), Sieglinde held the romance novel up with a twitch in the corner of her smile and a slight pink tinge in her cheeks.]

If this is some sort of proposal...

[... Probably best for all of Oska the steamiest bits were censored, yeah.]

[babbylon]

I accept.

[He accepts. On her behalf, without ever thinking about it. Perhaps this is the surest sign that some part of Gilgamesh yet lives.]

When you are of age, become my bride. Then we will have a most magnificent wedding, a wedding all would envy.

[Of course it's just a joke, just said to sate that unrelentingly, and quite shockingly enormous appetite of hers, which could surprise even the lewd King of Heroes... but there's a certain coyness to his expression now which might suggest it isn't entirely a possibility out of left field. Gilgamesh did take many brides once, after all, and many weren't much older than Sieglinde herself. A different time, and truly, a different culture, where women became such much, much sooner.

But mostly it's said to get a rise out of her and give her all the more reason to forget her aching limbs.]

Though you must promise to grow up beautiful, or I will surely lose interest in you. I've no use for an ugly wife.

[...that part may actually be true.]

[grunehexe]

And when will that be?

[Maybe it is something said in jest on Gilgamesh's part, but Sieglinde seemed... A little bit too serious about pinning down that age. According to her own standards, she would be ready for marriage in a few years, maximum... But some people had said that in their worlds people did not come of age until eighteen, or even twenty... Which seemed a lifetime away.]

I warn you that it is a most heinous crime to toy with a maiden's heart. I shan't forgive such a thing.

[She even used her Green Witch voice for that one... Though she couldn't seem the mysterious atmosphere going in front of him with such a topic, tossing her dark hair behind a shoulder with a slight hmmph as if the very idea she wouldn't grow up beautiful was offensive.]

In fact, I do not even need to make such a promise, it is practically guaranteed. Many have praised my beauty, I shall have you know.

[The word usually used was "cute", but she knew the true meaning!!]

Achilles

[babbylon]

[There is a delivery waiting for Achilles when next he returns to his quarters.

It's a hefty tome, several hundred pages at least, covered in skittering runes and worn text. Inside are stories written in a variety of languages, from all over both the modern and ancient world. Some Achilles may even recognize as being from his homeland, though others will remain a mystery. Whatever the case, it's clear this book is very valuable and gifted from a place of clear sentiment.

A fancy note has been left in his inbox that reads as follows:]

Fair Achilles,

I know you struggle in this strange new era you find yourself in. It is understandable; the world you knew is gone, replaced by something altogether alien. In recognition of that, I have provided a taste of home. May you find some wisdom, and perhaps even a bit of nostalgia, within these pages.

P.S. Should you find yourself otherwise unable to do so, I will gladly read some of these selections for you.

-G

[The culprit can be found in his own room, wasting away the hours waiting for nothing in particular.]

[heelies]

[Achilles can guess from whose liberality such a gift comes before the cold metallic chirp of his jewelry even finishes reading off Gilgamesh's message. He beholds the tome with quiet wonder, for nothing like it yet exists where he is from, and although he cannot discern any meaning from the strands of strange characters he spends some time fluttering through its pages.

Soon enough will he seek the king of Uruk: Achilles had scarcely seen him since the battle in which wave-ruling Ryba was vanquished. Here comes a solid knock upon the door, and a friendly voice without.]

Glorious Gilgamesh - it is Achilles, come to see how fare you at the close of this campaign. I have received your most generous gift and therefore wish to give my thanks and delight in your company.

[babbylon]

[Gilgamesh, honest and true despite his offer, feels more like rolling over and ignoring the door rather than answering it... but he also knows that the more he lounges, the more depressed he's likely to be. The gift-giving had come less from a place of generosity than a means to distract him from his poor mood, but that didn't mean said mood simply went away. In some ways, it had even gotten worse.

So when he does finally muster up the motivation to let Achilles in, it's a face of clear exhaustion that meets the other man. His smile looks as forced as it feels, until he just gives up outright and it fades to a firm crease of his lips. Not unfriendly, necessarily, but just tired.]

I welcome your presence.

[Not really.]

Please, come in. Would you care for a drink?

[heelies]

[When he is ushered in, he presently senses the change in Gilgamesh's mood in the way one feels the shift in the air on the precipice of a storm and in that swell of pressure the skin prickles and rises. Gone is the glinting grin with which Achilles has grown familiar, and in its stead remain features whittled down by sorrows unspoken.]

Happily shall I accept what you offer.

[Then his hand is assuring upon Gilgamesh's shoulder.]

But tell me, for what do you wear this weary look? Surely you have had time enough to delight in the pleasures offered in these grand halls, yet you appear as one whose heart is heavy with cares, as evident as is a branch weighed down with the burden of the fruit it bears. Tell me, worthy companion, what might I do to to soothe your chapped breast? I have brought with me that which you gave me, but perhaps it is my lyre that I should have brought.

[babbylon]

[Gilgamesh summons a familiar goblet and set of cups and pours Achilles' share first. He offers the drink to him, which smells and will taste as good as ever on his tongue, then fills his own. He sips thoughtfully for a moment before responding in an almost blank sort of way. More robotic than the charismatic King he's come to know. Emptier than the great ruler, always so full of life and exuberance, all vanished in the present.]

None might soothe it. It is not a matter to be soothed, but rather to be endured.

[And that is all he can endure, really. Endure the sorrow, or else pretend it doesn't exist. Pretend there's not some gaping hole inside him as there is now.]

You have known death, haven't you? In your heroics, there have been battles lost, and tragedies wrought, surely.

[heelies]

[He has set down the tome of legends upon whatever table might offer space and has taken instead the cup which Gilgamesh offers him. When the king of Uruk imbibes the dark wine, so too does Achilles; then as he speaks, Achilles watches with his noble brow furrowed by contemplation. At Gilgamesh's prompting he shall speak with words draped in solemnity, and thoughts turned to the ashes which wait for him.]

Well have I learned the sorrow that death leaves in its wake. It is a heavy pall which shrouds the eyes and smothers from sight all the sun's light. It is a plow which tills the heart and sows only the blackest fury in furrows barren of joy. Indeed I know better than most this sorrow. For upon the plains which surround steep Ilios I lost Menoetius' son Patroclus, pleasure of my heart, who fell by the pitiless bronze of murderous Hector. I heard not of men lost in our recent battle, in whose bloody jaws fortune seemed to stand by our side - do you mean to tell me one so dear to you was cast through death's gate?

Koltira

[babbylon]

[There's an intruder stalking the halls, on fluffy white paws.

Gilgamesh stalks just shortly behind it, trying not to chuckle as it stumbles and mewls. Occasionally, it runs back to Gilgamesh for comfort, startled by a sudden sound or a stranger it doesn't know; but always it presses on, stub of a tail wagging just a bit, as if searching for something. Or someone, in this case. Easily startled, apparently, but very, very determined to see its mission through.

Eventually, they find their way, just outside of Koltira's door. It swipes at the door to earn entry, sniffing the air. Meowing to signal its presence, and seemingly undeterred by the aura of death the elf radiates. This is what Gilgamesh hoped for; all proceeds as planned. Even in his gift giving, he's as methodical as ever.

Gilgamesh gives a small wave, and announces:]

Package for you, Koltira Deathweaver.

[And what a strange package it is… dare you approach this FIERCE LYNX CUB, death knight?]

[respired]

[ Koltira's on his bed, whiskey in one hand, book in the other. He's not typically one much for reading, but it's something to do, so he'd just grabbed a pile of fiction from the library and walked off with it. The pile might include certain Azerothian romance novels. He might be snapping it shut as Gilgamesh and the cub walk in.

He takes a swig from his bottle, his expression confused; skeptical. That's a lynx--not the same as he remembers from Silvermoon, but a lynx, nevertheless. Alive and breathing and padding towards him. ]

Why?

[ He stands up, towering over them both, his head cocked to one side. Would this creature even tolerate him? Should it? Why would Gilgamesh bring it to him? The questions are endless. But at least it's more interesting than the book.

He kneels down as the little creature approaches him. She seems anxious, but somehow determined. Koltira, completely off his guard (and a little drunk), holds out his hand. The cub pushes against his palm, as though she had been seeking out this very moment, this very hand, ever since her arrival.

Koltira's dumbfounded. ]

[babbylon]

Because I've no more room for any more meddling balls of fur in my menagerie. That is why.

[Both true and false. Gilgamesh could care for as many animals as he pleased, with the infinite resources of the Gate, but as of now he simply didn't have the energy. The little lynx had been deposited on his doorstep along with the rest of the gifts, but rather than reluctantly adopted, he decided someone else could use its company more.

Someone else who was so clearly lonely, and in need of companionship, but feared by all he tried to touch. He had hoped this cub would take a liking to him, and sure enough, she's already bonding. Gilgamesh has half a mind to leave them be, but he figures a quick visit won't hurt, even if it's still a struggle to keep smiling for another's sake.]

And because I sensed this creature might form a special bond with you. And of course, I was right.

[...actually, looking at him now, Koltira didn't seem too well himself. Gilgamesh arches a brow.]

Are you inebriated? My... what a way to welcome me.

[respired]

[ The cub, having established their relationship, now seems a bit unsure of herself. She flops down on the floor, rolling over, facing away from Koltira. His hand was cold, and though she was not shocked by this, Koltira's death aura was something else up close. Still, she is not far from him, and she does not run. Only curls up shyly beside his foot, her big paws over her face. Koltira is as yet unsure of what to make of her, or of Gil's response. ]

Not as much as I would like to be.

[ Koltira glances from the lynx to Gilgamesh. Takes a long, deliberate drink from the bottle in his other hand. ]

I was not expecting you, in any case.

[ The arrogance, the seeming indifference to Koltira--I brought you this so it would no longer trouble me--that's in place. But while Koltira is not the most insightful elf of Azeroth, he's no fool, either. There's something subdued about Gilgamesh, something muted.

Another drink. ]

Are you offended?

[babbylon]

[Gilgamesh drops anything like arrogance at once, shakes his head and looks earnestly regretful for once to come across so callously. Also uncharacteristic of Gilgamesh, who never saw fit to apologize for whatever he did, no matter how crude. He steps forward and moves to join Koltira on the bed, though he does seat himself far enough apart from him, facing away and watching the thumping tail out of the corner of his vision.]

I can see that you are most unhappy. It was not my intent to worsen the mood.

[Gilgamesh glances to the bottle, thinks to offer him a better beverage, but then decides against it. It would not help, not as the elf wants it to.]

Speak to me, if you so desire; what ails? What crushes so brave a knight, and drives him to drink?

[Because Gilgamesh knows: this was not drinking for pleasure. Only drinking to forget, or rather, to suppress.]

[respired]

[ 'What do you care?' is his initial response, though he doesn't say it. Gilgamesh had stood with him against the goddesses; they had fought together. As a warrior, these were things Koltira is not bound to forget. But as a man, he is not so foolish as to believe Gil really thinks of him as anything more than an interesting monster. ]

You did not.

[ He touches the tip of the lynx cub's tail, and she responds by curling said tail around his wrist. He softens. A little charmed. ]

She is lovely, and I thank you for her.

[ He's still holding his drink, though, and he stares into it for a moment before he goes on. ]

The events of Nalawi do not sit well with me. I drink so as to dull my senses. My reactions.

[ So he won't reach out and snap the neck of half the recruits. ]