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kaisou2025-01-21 09:16 am
throwmoreswords) wrote in kaisou2025-01-21 09:16 am
Entry tags:
[treasure 8] it's black and white, this message is for you
WHO: Gilgamesh, Sampo Koski, and you
WHERE: Gemini
WHEN: endish of January
WHAT: in which Gilgamesh is only so good at waiting before his temper snaps and a few executive decisions need to be made. Payments arranged. Favors compensated. Please help.
WARNINGS: n/a
one. voice; un: AUO - to whom it may concern (and it should concern you)
[ Gil's tone is... strange. neither of his usual emotions--bored or smug--seem to be present in the tension that he speaks with, and he's trying to sound... neutral. overwhelmingly so. he is pulling a facade of calm into his voice that feels like it doesn't quite fit right. ]
I am quite tired of waiting for the pieces of a puzzle to fall into place, and so, I will see them seized for myself.
I need material ore. Whether it's tin, copper, gold, silver, tungsten, platinum, cobalt, or diamond itself--or some unknown to me magical panacea rock that exists only in an anomalous riftgate, I am in the market to purchase ore or information regarding ore.
If you know a deposit that can be pulled up, or have the means to put together a mining expedition if only you had the currency, I am paying for your services. If you need someone to keep beasts at bay while you collect the ore, I am available for the work, or I will fund your hirelings. Hook or crook, I simply need a stockpile of materials and I need it a month ago.
My. [ and that neutral, authoritative tone falters here; he takes in a breath, digs his teeth into his tongue and steadies himself again, though there's a noticeable shift and an unease in his attempt to sound like the boss of you. ] My partner has a crystal growing in his skin and the symptoms are getting worse. It glows constantly and he's lost the ability to differentiate temperature. He has a forgemaster on retainer, but they need materials to find one that can contain whatever the hell it is-- [ oops, that's an emotion, can't have those.
swallow it down. go back to neutral, even though it's cracked and his temper is beginning to show through. he's shifted to a sort of... resolved, unflinchingly firm calm. ] I will not lose him a second time. I don't care what it costs. I don't care if you think to bleed me dry. I'm available at the Auguries of Innocence during the day, and if I'm not there in the evenings, the Vogue.
[ a long pause. another slow breath. ]
I do not know what I will do if he's taken from me again. Therefore, I will not entertain the possibility. You may respond to this solicitation, or to me directly.
[ that's not a threat.
that's a promise.
a King does not break his promises.
and then, soft and so very, very tired. ]
... please.
two. action - with lightning in my heels and my heart on fire
[ and as he promised, if you have stuff to sell, Gilgamesh is outside of his teapot and ready to pull out his fancy golden wallet. he's given to the masculine urge to perch on the roof, standing on the Auguries bundled up in many, many layers of expensive winterwear because he was still born in a dry, desert climate, and this sucks, but he needs fresh air and to not be near people unless they're doing his bidding.
if you'd prefer a Vogue introduction, there's a certain particularly gothic corner of the party palace that he's sitting adjacently to, nursing a glass of wine and trying not to look like he wants to explode. the look on his face is dire--anger, concern, constipation. he's bottling things and it's fine; one day, like all proud rich and powerful men, he'll do enough cocaine about it that he'll probably explode and die. ]
three. closed to Sampo and close CR - and oh, I am so tired
[ and when he's not brooding and hovering over his phone, waiting for someone to come through with something, Gil is doing a surprisingly good job at avoiding the people who might be coming to see him just for him. he's running on a few anxious months of watching things get worse while Sampo laughs that it'll be all right, just let ol' Bladie work and then here it is.
not all right.
Sampo's skin freezing cold to the touch because he stood in an icy, unheated shower for thirty minutes, unaware that he'd forgotten to put the heat on. he's angry, he's tired, he'sscared and he's digging his teeth into his lip until he tastes blood as he runs through a hundred different contingency plans and keeps coming back around to what happens if the worst happens.
the King may have fallen apart in his grief for Enkidu
but Gilgamesh has mourned Samuel Kouvac once before, so all he has left is to get angry about it and that... feels like it won't end well for anyone.
so he does his level best to avoid the people who know him best. including Sampo. especially Sampo. ]
WHERE: Gemini
WHEN: endish of January
WHAT: in which Gilgamesh is only so good at waiting before his temper snaps and a few executive decisions need to be made. Payments arranged. Favors compensated. Please help.
WARNINGS: n/a
one. voice; un: AUO - to whom it may concern (and it should concern you)
in which a king needs to buy stuff like rocks and labor
[ Gil's tone is... strange. neither of his usual emotions--bored or smug--seem to be present in the tension that he speaks with, and he's trying to sound... neutral. overwhelmingly so. he is pulling a facade of calm into his voice that feels like it doesn't quite fit right. ]
I am quite tired of waiting for the pieces of a puzzle to fall into place, and so, I will see them seized for myself.
I need material ore. Whether it's tin, copper, gold, silver, tungsten, platinum, cobalt, or diamond itself--or some unknown to me magical panacea rock that exists only in an anomalous riftgate, I am in the market to purchase ore or information regarding ore.
If you know a deposit that can be pulled up, or have the means to put together a mining expedition if only you had the currency, I am paying for your services. If you need someone to keep beasts at bay while you collect the ore, I am available for the work, or I will fund your hirelings. Hook or crook, I simply need a stockpile of materials and I need it a month ago.
My. [ and that neutral, authoritative tone falters here; he takes in a breath, digs his teeth into his tongue and steadies himself again, though there's a noticeable shift and an unease in his attempt to sound like the boss of you. ] My partner has a crystal growing in his skin and the symptoms are getting worse. It glows constantly and he's lost the ability to differentiate temperature. He has a forgemaster on retainer, but they need materials to find one that can contain whatever the hell it is-- [ oops, that's an emotion, can't have those.
swallow it down. go back to neutral, even though it's cracked and his temper is beginning to show through. he's shifted to a sort of... resolved, unflinchingly firm calm. ] I will not lose him a second time. I don't care what it costs. I don't care if you think to bleed me dry. I'm available at the Auguries of Innocence during the day, and if I'm not there in the evenings, the Vogue.
[ a long pause. another slow breath. ]
I do not know what I will do if he's taken from me again. Therefore, I will not entertain the possibility. You may respond to this solicitation, or to me directly.
[ that's not a threat.
that's a promise.
a King does not break his promises.
and then, soft and so very, very tired. ]
... please.
two. action - with lightning in my heels and my heart on fire
cash for gold. or silver. or titanium. or rainbow magic rock.
[ and as he promised, if you have stuff to sell, Gilgamesh is outside of his teapot and ready to pull out his fancy golden wallet. he's given to the masculine urge to perch on the roof, standing on the Auguries bundled up in many, many layers of expensive winterwear because he was still born in a dry, desert climate, and this sucks, but he needs fresh air and to not be near people unless they're doing his bidding.
if you'd prefer a Vogue introduction, there's a certain particularly gothic corner of the party palace that he's sitting adjacently to, nursing a glass of wine and trying not to look like he wants to explode. the look on his face is dire--anger, concern, constipation. he's bottling things and it's fine; one day, like all proud rich and powerful men, he'll do enough cocaine about it that he'll probably explode and die. ]
three. closed to Sampo and close CR - and oh, I am so tired
when i'm alone, i fall apart
[ and when he's not brooding and hovering over his phone, waiting for someone to come through with something, Gil is doing a surprisingly good job at avoiding the people who might be coming to see him just for him. he's running on a few anxious months of watching things get worse while Sampo laughs that it'll be all right, just let ol' Bladie work and then here it is.
not all right.
Sampo's skin freezing cold to the touch because he stood in an icy, unheated shower for thirty minutes, unaware that he'd forgotten to put the heat on. he's angry, he's tired, he's
the King may have fallen apart in his grief for Enkidu
but Gilgamesh has mourned Samuel Kouvac once before, so all he has left is to get angry about it and that... feels like it won't end well for anyone.
so he does his level best to avoid the people who know him best. including Sampo. especially Sampo. ]
no subject
he continues to regard Sampo with that calm, guarded expression--all of the anger is focused in the inhuman slit of his pupils, the way his arms stay folded over his chest for the moment as Sam sags atop him like a marionette with all of his strings cut. it would probably be very strange to others to see--considering he's spent all day texting and calling and moving money from account to account and now
he's sitting here, refusing to touch the man, watching him flagellate himself without even a hint of mollification in his stony disposition. ]
I could source any matter of gemstone for you that pleased you. I can make gemstones, you fool. [ why must you thrill in the chase so much, you wonder? his chest hurts so bad right now and he doesn't have a name for what the root of the ache is. ]
I stole your phone and texted the POKEGo group. It seems that the everstone from Kanto will work to buy us time--it'll halt the progression of your degeneration and buy us time to find something... better. [ what does better look like? does it heal Sampo and bring sensation back? does it keep him comfortably numb?
Gilgamesh doesn't know, and he hates not knowing.
he finally reaches out, curling his fingers around the other man's wrists--and frowning, because he's... warm, but it feels like it's leeching off of his body, bleeding him back to just this side of cold, and of course Sam won't notice, he can't feel it.
it sends an unhappy bristle up the King's spine. ] You're still chilled. [ accusatory, frustrated.
he grips Sam's wrists tighter to keep him in place. ]
no subject
he likes to chase his frivolities because he needs to. he needs to chase entertainment, for the god that laughs behind his eyelids. and it's difficult to explain that. now's not the time--not when the god is deadly silent. ]
Ah, that's why my phone's been going wild. I'm sure they were--haha--delighted to hear about the fact that I didn't ask them right away, huh. [ he really thought that he could find something. it's not like he wasn't looking himself; and noctis had brought him a few things. nothing that'd worked yet, but...
he flexes his fingers when gil finally touches him. and he could feel the pressure of the other holding him. the skin on skin sensation was still there--but it wasn't as sensitive as it used to be.
he presses a little closer, as if to steal more of gil's heat--but the truth was, he couldn't tell. he couldn't tell how warm gil's hands were, or how chilly he still was, despite the fact that he'd spent a half hour curled up in a blanket pile in an attempt to soothe the chill. ]
Should I go back to bed? [ he asks--because he has to ask--gil's holding him so tightly, that a small tug to try to free himself got absolutely nowhere. ] I could uh. Heat up a hot water bottle, or maybe doordash a heating pad... [ he lifts his head to gaze at gil a little. ]
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[ pointed. matter of fact.
maybe he's laying it on thick, but if Gil is going to be emotionally inconvenienced then Sam's coming kicking and screaming with him. he curls his fingers over Sampo's pulse point, reassuring himself with the slow thrum of Sam's heart.
for every minute he's spent think of a corpse, Sam is still here, alive and digging his heels in, and laughing his way through life despite the tension in the corners of his eyes and chill on his skin. Gil sits silent for a moment as Sam gives a little wiggle, offering his options... and then he pulls both wrists together so he can hold them in one hand, scooping Sam over his shoulder in one swift motion as he hefts him like the potato sack, starting to walk towards the downstairs bathroom.
not warm enough.
he needed to do something drastic. ]
no subject
I'm going to--
[ the words 'be okay, probably' due to POKEgo probably being on board to save one of its members are the words he WANTS to speak, but. he's getting hefted in the next moment and he has to close his mouth to stop himself from biting his tongue on the way up. Wwwagh, huh!? what's-- ]
G, gil!? [ he lets out a startled, jumpy noise as he's potato'd over gil's shoulder, and he moves his hands to try to hold on, even if he logically knows there's no need. ]
What're you--where're we goin'?? I know you're still mad, but-!
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no subject
[ it's cruel and unkind and if he could breathe fire the walls would be licked with flames as he kicks open the door without any particular care.
it's his house. he can break what he wants to. he is the King, he can do what he wants; the world is beholden to his whims
and Sampo is still dying and day turns to night and back again.he plops Sam down on the sink counter when he reaches the bathroom, giving him a cursory up and down look. ]
Take your clothes off.
[ and then he goes to fuss with the oversized claw-footed bathtub against the wall, playing with the temperature as he tries to find the right warmth to take the chill out of Sampo's skin, to pull the cold off of Gil's bones. ]
no subject
[ he's in his cozy PJs, the fuzzy ones with the pink and navy blue tiger stripes on them. they're hideous and perfect, and he'd rather not get them soaking wet.
he seems a little less panicked when he realises that they're not going outside to the ponds, but rather to the bathroom. the truth of what's happening slowly starts to click into place, and he kicks off the pair of snowy-looking slippers he'd been wearing, a hand moving to unbutton his shirt, quickly.
He does indeed side-eye the door gil had KICKED IN, noting that he'd taken it slightly off its hinges, some of the screws having come loose in the needless violence done to the thing... ]
You broke the door. [ he points out a little dumbly as he drops the shirt to the floor first--that bright blue crystal settled between the bones of his clavicle, like a necklace with no string.
He's starting to get an idea of what gil's planning to do. welp. ]
no subject
[ the door swings valiantly on its remaining hinge, starting to list as it slowly creaks downward towards the floor--as if it just... needs to take a little nap and it'll be fine. Gil has a hand in the bath, continuing to muddle with the temperature, seemingly deaf to the soft, squeaky whines of the house he's brutalized in a fit of pique.
sometimes he forgets his strength, now. that's a tomorrow problem for a tomorrow Gilgamesh. right now Gilgamesh has stuff to do. ]
And I will fix the door, or I won't. It was in my way and needed to move.
[ and once the tub is filled to an appropriate amount, he's going to cut the tap and stand, returning to Sampo to once again heft him like the sack of naughty potatoes he is.
whatever clothing he's still wearing is going into the tub with him in one wet, undignified plop. ]
1/3
[ opened it with a hand, you had an extra one, potato-sacking Sam wasn't that hard!!
that's about all the words he gets out though, as Gil turns to face him and once again he's up.
It's really startling how strong gil is. ]
2/3
...there's a bubble of laughter just behind his ears as Aha laughs for the first time in a week. ]
[ and then the next moment he's hitting the tub like aforementioned sack of potatoes, water going absolutely everywhere--sampo's arms flailing as he struggles to sit up as he's suddenly plopped into water--again--and while he can't tell the temperature of the water, he will take note of his skin almost immediately starting to turn pink. ]
3/3
[ that's all he gets out
before he's starting to
uproariously laugh. ]
no subject
[ it's a barked order as he continues to absolutely manhandle Sampo, hefting him about like he's feathers, or half his size--as opposed to being a perfectly healthy man that's taller than Gilgamesh himself.
he plops Sampo down like--like--like he's dunking a frozen turkey into a warm water bath, and the sight of Sampo flustered and damp and sad just... Sampo begins to laugh and Gilgamesh tries to sit stern and resolute, but he's been running on overdrive and Sampo's hair is flopped against his skull and Gil just sits down and puts his forehead on the rim of the tub, uncaring that he's sitting in Sampo's turkey water as he finally cracks, cackling with a mirth that's more of a manic shrieking, grasping the edge of the tub like he'll float away if he's not rooted down. ]
Stop fighting me, you wet cat of a man!
no subject
[ he's laughing while trying to straighten himself up--his legs are akimbo as he looks... over at gil, who's sitting next to the tub. Just... looking exhausted, despite how he handled Sampo like a bundle of sticks. ]
...You're really lucky I didn't have my phone on me.
I'm just--
You.
...This is not what I expected you to do.
You are... delightfully insane. Funny.
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[ It's perhaps more honest than he actually wants to be, but he's too tired to fight with Sam and play little games with words and intentions, circling around and around the other man. It's been a fraught day for him and maybe, just maybe, he wants to lay the load down and rest his head on Sampo's stupid wet forearm for a moment, breathing out slow from lungs that don't actually need breath. ]
I do what pleases me, or what makes sense in the moment. The sooner you stop trying to assume my feelings, the better things will be.
[ Hmn. That might've been a bit pointed. ]
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His eyes soften by a degree and he looks at the other as Gil rests his head against him, and he'll be brave enough to raise a hand to drag fingers through gil's hair, not caring how wet his fingers is as he trails them through golden hair that turns darker as water soaks into the strands. ]
I can't help it. I'm used to being able to understand what people are thinking or doing at any given time. I've --yanno. Had t'do it. For years. To be able to sus out who I could trust and whatnot.
With you, you're just--such a complete mystery, It's just.
Exciting, being near you.
Fun, being around you.
Little ol' me isn't trying to assume how you feel, but uh.
It gets real confusing when you act angry and grousy at me when I do something you don't like. Complete with telling me to get out of your house or that I'm not allowed t'call you my boyfriend.
But then get all soft and gentle on me like this. And I.
Yanno.
Come on, I don't have much to work with here.
no subject
Perhaps a puzzle or two is good for you. It'll give you something to occupy your not insignificant intellect with so you don't run around gett strange crystals stuck to your soul.
[ he turns his face so he can peer at Sampo from behind his bangs, eyes narrowing as he stares him down. ]
I am acting how I feel. The pleasantries and the pain are one in the same--it cannot be a contradiction when it simply is the absolute endpoint of the matter.
[ he's so matter of fact--and after a moment he clicks his teeth at Sampo's fingers, moving to sit up on his knees so that he can better loom over him. ]
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The absolute endpoint of the matter is that you're pissed at me, and yet you're going the whole nine miles to get me help when I failed to get it myself.
[ it's a complete and utter contridiction and he's still trying to figure out what's going on!!!! Aha is cackling in the back of his mind and it's *exhausting.* ]
I didn't mean to get it stuck.
How was I supposed to know a rock was actually a parasite.
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[ there's no particular heat to that thread, but he leans on his elbows so that he can better level his eyes with Sam's, not giving the man the reprieve of not being stared at by a King. ]
By exercising any measure of caution before dealing with something wholly unknown? This city is rife with magic, and magic can be either benign or accursed. It's all the same coin. You should have been careful.
[ ... which is to say, he has no idea how Sampo could've avoided this particular consequence coming to pass, and he tightens his grip on the lip of the tub. ]
You keep making decisions and leaving me to reap the harvest on my own shoulders. It's cruel of you in an oddly casual way.
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As he slows down a little, lying, half dressed, in a pool of water that was certainly too hot on a normal day, Sampo gives Gil a look that can truly only be described as hurt. ]
You think I wanted this?
To live freely for the first time In a decade, with you no less, is a crazy fever dream come true. I haven't been this happy in years.
You think I'd do something to put that at risk casually? On purpose??
[ forest green eyes focus hard on ruby red ones. ]
Nothing about this is easy. Or casual. Or anything you're thinking.
This is terrifying, Gil.
I'm Scared. I can't sleep, I hate eating, and now the one good thing in my life is being turned upside down in a way that makes me aware that I've fucked up again so irreversibly that--if it's ever fixed, all I can look forward to is being thrown out on my ass for making a mistake.
What I want more than anything else right now is comfort from my partner. From you.
I want to be held and told I'm going to be okay.
Not thrown into a vat of boiling water and called a cruel idiot.
no subject
Sam finally found his teeth again.
The hurt in his eyes isn't enough to make the King soften. His eyes narrow as the man finally rises to meet him on equal ground, finally venting his fears and frustrations--and how simultaneously helpful Gilgamesh is and isn't being. This is the challenge he's been waiting for. One can spend hours throwing swords at a stump
but having a moving target is far more interesting and feels just that much more productive. ]
You have, haven't you? [ For all of Sampo's proclaimed happiness, there's a rock in his chest and Gil pokes a finger beneath it by a good inch or so, really pressing in as if the pressure would be enough for Sampo to actually feel this time. The man bleeds his anxieties and Gilgamesh's face would indicate he's unmoved by the fear, head cocking ever so slightly. ]
And yet for taking such a difficult toll on you, here we are for the second time in our lives. Here I sit, having given you the depths of my affection--a place at my side, comfort in my bed, whatever things you might've desired and craved, and you still sought to chase something else for profit, or amusement, or whatever it is that drives you.
So yes, Samuel. It's cruel.
Once again, you've left me in the dark because "everything was going to work out, isn't life a laugh", only this time, I get to watch you bleed out in an alleyway, and you get to be ringside for hearing people scrounge for rumors and blame me for not doing enough in real time!
[ There's a cheerful sort of malice in his voice, in his expression, and the baring of teeth he's passing as a smile doesn't reach the slit-pupil red of his eyes. ]
You could've done a dozen things different if only you'd look towards the resources you keep at hand! You could've had someone in Ghost City appraise the piece, or reached out to one of the half dozen magically-inclined strangers that you regularly service and tease! You ask me to comfort you right now, but why didn't you lean on me two months ago? And another thing!
[ And now he's on a roll--the breath he sucks in rattles in his simulacrum lungs. ]
If you think I'm going to cast you out after spending all of this time, energy, and grief on helping you, then you're actually stupid and not just playing a Fool, Samuel Kovac. You are mine. I'm going to drag you towards something resembling your health, kicking and screaming if I must, and if that means you have to tolerate a little temper from me in the wake of it, then so be it! I don't have to hold you and coddle you, because you should already know that I will break the world itself to see you safe from harm, and that simply comes from my nature as an Absolute!
I am a King and if I must fight the heavens themselves to protect you, then I will--that is my burden, and that is the load I bear! A cedar tree will never bend to embrace you, and yet, the rain will never reach you when you stand beneath it!
You're cold, you're stupid, and I'm going to fix it and you can be a little uncomfortable in the wake of all of that! The price must always be paid! Maybe you'll finally learn to think before you act and there won't be a next time!
[ The thunder in his voice, the scowl on his face--the world sits upon his shoulders and it will be a cold day in hell before he lets it slip away. One moment, he's braced on the side of the tub, looking like he wants to leap in and fight Sampo physically, and the next he's climbing into the water himself, clothes and all, to grab the man by his hair and drag him in for a bone-crushing embrace--both for the fact that he wants Sampo to feel it, and because he kind of wants to pop his head off like he's a cartoon toy for how aggravated the other man's gotten him. ]
no subject
He's not used to being shouted at like this. Certainly he's angered people before with his pranks or his cons; but that'd all been the shouts of people who'd fallen for his tricks and schemes. this was different; it was the anger and grief of someone who is skirting the edges of losing someone--something precious to them and coming to terms with the fact that all the money in the world might not be enough to see that thing saved.
Sam is scared. But so is Gilgamesh.
A gentle sound escapes his throat when the man joins him in his boiling hot vat of water, and much like the prodding, even if he can't feel the sensation of the hug, the pressure is heavy and crushing--and through everything, this is all he'd wanted.
And his shoulders shake as his resolve and calm finally breaks, and Samuel Kovac finally allows himself to cry; arms moving around gil to lock the man against him, despite how he's fully clothed and now slowly going to get soaking wet alongside him.
He buries his face into his neck and the tears that fall from his eyes are nearly as hot as the water itself, stinging his eyes and forcing them to close even if he can't feel the sensation of the sting itself. ]
I would stand in the pouring rain and let it soak me down to the bone if it mean the cedar tree would reach its branches out to hold me.
[ please understand him this time. ]
no subject
Sam collapses in against him and Gilgamesh breathes out again, habit more than need, and his arms hold no less tightly, though his hands are... gentler. He cups the back of Sam's head, tipping his own to rest his cheek against the taller man's temple, his other arm looped around Sam's air craft carrier shoulders as he strokes his fingers through the other man's blue hair in a soothing motion. ]
The tree cannot bend. It's not in its nature. It doesn't know how.
[ How long has it been since he's hugged someone just to bring them comfort? He understands embracing in the midst of carnality, but it's not often that people look towards his touch for reassurance or care. He pays no attention to the water soaking his jeans and making them heavy, turning his face to press his lips to the temple he'd been idly nuzzling against. ]
I'm here, fool. I have you. I won't let you be taken, even if it's yourself trying to do the taking. You have my word.
no subject
[ said as if it was so easy--maybe because he wanted it to be easy. because he wants gil to meet him down on the ground instead of stretching high over his head. He knows it's selfish, but if he's allowed to have desires, than this is his. He can't feel the gentle brush of gil's hair against his cheek but he knows it's there. it's soft under his fingers as he curls his hand up the back of the others' neck, to hold him solidly as he's being held, without any intention of letting go, anytime soon.
he and gil were together plenty--lounging on one another during the day or curled together at night--but it was always something lazy, casual. being held like this, the pressure of gil pressing his lips against his temple--it makes his eyes flicker closed again as a fresh streak of tears warmly draw down his cheeks as he wishes, so dearly, that he could feel the others' grip fully. as this was the sort of comfort he's been needing. wanting. hungry for. ]
Thank you.
That's what ol' Samuel wanted to hear.
I might not believe in much in this world, as most of it IS a joke.
But I think you're the easiest thing to believe in.
The one thing I can always believe in.