No matter how much things change, they stay the same, right? Even in another lifetime, with another origin story, the King still found a way to be the King, unflinching and unbending, unbowed and unbroken.
Fantasy Costco is sure-ass having a time, isn't it? Gilgamesh can barely comprehend what he's looking at--animatronic decorations gone rogue, a scene out of some childish fantasy where armor and floating bric-a-brac act as soldiers in place of the moral quandaries that come with fighting men. It's like level one of a video game, and it almost feels like some sort of elaborate joke--
And then Ritsuka's voice pierces the air as a book comes hurtling towards them, the teenager darting for safety as Gil snaps back into the forefront of his mind, certainly about to catch a book to the face.
But then gold glows over Gilgamesh's shoulder and a chain springs to meet the tome, piercing through it and driving to the ground to crack the tile and pin the book, Gilgamesh dodging as a second book spirals after it, and finally swinging on a third, rending a good chunk of... whatever the covers magic books are presumably made of (magic cardboard?) and yellowed pages away from the rest of the body of the book with his razor sword.
He breathes and doesn't wait for the next volley, slicing a broom that divebombs him in a messy 2/3rds sort of configuration, stance widening as his eyes cast around the room--ready, waiting, flying by the seat of his pants.
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Fantasy Costco is sure-ass having a time, isn't it? Gilgamesh can barely comprehend what he's looking at--animatronic decorations gone rogue, a scene out of some childish fantasy where armor and floating bric-a-brac act as soldiers in place of the moral quandaries that come with fighting men. It's like level one of a video game, and it almost feels like some sort of elaborate joke--
And then Ritsuka's voice pierces the air as a book comes hurtling towards them, the teenager darting for safety as Gil snaps back into the forefront of his mind, certainly about to catch a book to the face.
But then gold glows over Gilgamesh's shoulder and a chain springs to meet the tome, piercing through it and driving to the ground to crack the tile and pin the book, Gilgamesh dodging as a second book spirals after it, and finally swinging on a third, rending a good chunk of... whatever the covers magic books are presumably made of (magic cardboard?) and yellowed pages away from the rest of the body of the book with his razor sword.
He breathes and doesn't wait for the next volley, slicing a broom that divebombs him in a messy 2/3rds sort of configuration, stance widening as his eyes cast around the room--ready, waiting, flying by the seat of his pants.