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@enumaelishs-blog
Three kings by weed
※ Permission to upload this work was granted by the artist.
What a strange illusion it is to suppose that beauty is goodness.
Leo Tolstoy (via balletmuse)
radical.
To Know, Water - Austin Wintory (ABZÛ)
“No, I’m not.” However plain her reply was, there was a dose of warmth to it; the genuine interest and the soothing presence that person bore eased her mind, and the confirmation that no language barrier would be in their way only added to it. With a little more certainty, she closed the distance between them for good, the gentle rustle of her dress melding with that of the leaves under her feet. “I suppose I am… Searching for some peace, maybe.” It sounded more like a question than an actual answer, but it was all she had to offer for the time being. “And I hope I’m not disturbing yours while at it,” she added sheepishly as she pulled the skirt up just enough so she could step into the stream without soaking it. “If I may…” She didn’t quite wait for an invitation to sit by their side, however; not noticing any signal against the gesture seemed enough. Whoever that person was, whatever they were – curiosity was eating her from the inside out, but she couldn’t possibly be that rude –, there was definitely something rather eerie about them, a creature of fairy tales in a world where gods felt all too human. It was refreshing, even.
“What do you seek? If– if you don’t mind my asking, of course!”
And she approached him. A timid woman she was, asking for permission, expressing the hopes that her mere presence wouldn’t bother the Servant. In his time - not that again, Spirit - a being bearing voluminous power within would never lower their voice, ego or image when approaching a simple figure as himself. Was she aware of her own extension, of the marks tinting her skin, and the warmth brought by her perfume?
Of course. Didn’t even need to inquire.
And her reasons to keep that modesty in sign weren’t of his concern, either.
“Tricky to consider you have the ability to pester me. Peace walks with you, even as you try and search for it somewhere else.” As he watched the woman tread in chilly water and then sit by the shore, a fine curve grew on the edge of his lips, such furtive smile. They were two colorful dots among the wilderness: one blending in all that wild green, and the other a shy orange Adonis embellishing what was common. Distinct in color they seemed, presumably in personality and goals as well.
Goals. The last question made him avert gaze and firm feet under water, porcelain features transitioning from calm to contemplative. He never minded asks, but some he could not answer.
“Nothing. There is nothing I seek in this Era, nothing I long for.” The figure shifted position again before proceeding, both hands over knees, smudging the cloth with grains of soil and leaves. “Years behind I sought the accompany of a friend, the adventures and pleasures only he could offer.” She couldn’t riddle his identity with so little, for sure, there was no problem with sharing a bit of his past life.
“... Yes, to satiate your sudden curiosity: I sought the company of a King, and a tyrant one. None in the eight Kingdoms could have guessed the affinity that was born between us. It happened still, natural as the rain and the sun afterwards.”
Ao menos humildade ele tinha. O mínimo esperado do melhor amigo do ego em pessoa. Tanta humildade que chegava a dar dó, coisa que não se via nem mesmo em crianças recém nascidas. Ah, mas Enkidu era o próprio sopro de vida puro, intocado. Fazia sentido ele ter um caráter tão nobre. E eis que com a falta de informações o igigi passou a coçar o próprio queixo, ás vezes alisando a barba inexistente. Se nem mesmo Enkidu sabia, como poderia então Ereshkigal saber? Se ela soubesse é claro que o mundo estaria sofrendo uma pequenina calamidade invisível aos olhos de quem não acredita quanto uma deusa de punho de ferro como ela pode ser devastadora. De longe, altamente percebida pelos entendedores.
— Que permaneça como um mistério. Temos um tempo indeterminado para tal, não temos? — Dito tais palavras a criatura andrógena de posicionou ao lado da outra e logo passou seu braço direito fino sobre os ombros alheios sem nenhuma dificuldade ou possível medo. Sabia bem que os anunnaki não eram os melhores amigos de Enkidu, mas e os igigi? Talvez só Namtar não fosse. Namtar não é do tipo que faz amigos e pelo visto ninguém quer a amizade do mesmo. — Esqueça deste lugar enquanto estiver sob o divino céu azul, onde a carne vem dos bois e o pão é de trigo, onde a escuridão da noite pode ser quebrada pela chama de uma vela ou pelo brilho das estrelas. — A mão do igigi se moveu em claros tapinhas curtos e leves. É visto que o mesmo não tem noção ou respeito pelo espaço pessoal alheio. Motivo? Era um igigi, não respeitava nada e nem ninguém abaixo de si. Ora, ainda que Enkidu tivesse sido moldado pelo próprio Anu isso não mudava muito as coisas em seu ponto de vista. — Não temos mais a cerveja de antigamente, o que entristece meu fígado, mas há mais do que apenas cerveja no mundo. Há… Pães temperados com canela… E umas outras coisas menos importantes.
Tempo indeterminado; disso Enkidu não tinha certeza, nem um pouco. Poderia aquela ser a primeira e última vez que se encontrava com a deidade de fala grande e cabelo cacheado, envolta em perfume forte de flores e temperos. Olhar plácido seguiu o caminho que o braço moreno e bem cuidado fez até chegar em seus ombros, o peso do corpo como uma pena repousada sobre si. A ousadia e relaxo do Igigi não ofendiam o guerreiro, apesar de também não ganharem sua afeição. Enkidu virou, com leve movimento, o rosto para poder encara-lo totalmente, sem restrições.
Perto demais para pessoas da época moderna, talvez, perto o suficiente para contar os cílios enfileirados e longos que enfeitavam aquele olhar despreocupado. Do Servo desprendia-se cheiro de folhagem molhada e ervas.
“Pedes que eu esqueça do Caminho quando tu mesmo me lembrou deste. Ah, Igigi, esse humor e apetite teu têm o mesmo tamanho.” O humor dos deuses era assim, não, feito para lembrar os mortais de que a morte chegaria, ou que voltariam a comer argila e barro vermelho no submundo de onde não deveriam ter saído, em primeiro lugar. Mas as palavras ditas não carregavam qualquer sentimento de antipatia, e seu tom permaneceu ameno. Era como se conversasse com um camponês vizinho, alguém que conheceu no meio do mato.
Deu um passo a frente, depois outro e mais dois, começando caminho para qualquer lugar. Se a criatura o acompanharia ou ficara para trás não poderia dizer.
“Pão com canela não me soa ruim, nem a cerveja que falas. Sinto que não preciso de qualquer alimento nesta forma, mas a ânsia de experimentar o novo ainda é grande.”
<< @enumaelishs
Pode-se dizer que no rosto de igigi apareceu um sorriso fino, ainda que fosse somente um fantasma de suas torções faciais normais. Ser chamado de igigi por alguém que claramente sabia do que isso se tratava era agradável, coisa que não se pode explicar, somente sentir. O que dizer então sobre o fato que o direito de ser chamado assim lhe fora negado por tantos anos? Então, Enkidu fora do Vasto Caminho? Isso soou estranho. Mais estranho que sua própria existência, o seco de seu berço e principalmente a queda de seu povo pelas mãos de outros. Bom, esse tópico poderia ser trazido em outro momento, deixe que o antigo sumeriano desenrole de sua língua em assuntos irrelevantes, pelo menos por hora.
— Eu esperava um caloroso “Silimma Hemeen”, mas suas palavras são mais bonitas que os grunhidos de Lamashtu, então me vejo no lucro. — Mas, hein? Rei dourado? Ah, não… Quanta ousadia, quanta ousadia. Ousadia até mesmo parar quem tanto desejou a imortalidade. Como adorou não estar envolvido com o mesmo naquela época, como adorou estar ocupado demais em Eridu, planejando que aquela fosse a próxima capital. Por quê? Porque queria e porque podia. Seu rosto veio com uma torção clara de desgosto pelas palavras alheias antes de retornar ao estado sereno anterior. — Gostaria de não prolongar o assunto nesse garoto de crista alta, o nome me dá dores de cabeça. Lembrar de como Inanna estava naquele tempo me dá dores de cabeça.
— E por falar em dores de cabeça, caro amigo, o que faz aqui? Tão limpo, trajando vestes, sadio e ainda por cima sem lama e pó entre seus dentes? Pensei que estava ocupado vagando na escuridão.
As mudanças de humor da entidade não passaram despercebidas ao guerreiro; desde o ténue sorriso de reconhecimento até a carranca quando o nome e ego de Gilgamesh foram pronunciados. Ora, já se era esperado. Seu amigo nunca teve muita consideração pelos deuses maiores, tirando os que lhe traziam proveito, imagine pelos menos conhecidos... Enkidu somente sorriu despretensioso perante a figura, deixando que falasse o quando quisesse. Não que tivesse prestígio suficiente para calar uma deidade na situação em que se encontrava.
E Inanna... Bem, que mudassem logo de assunto.
“Dentro e abaixo daquela montanha escura é onde eu deveria estar, não mentes. As circunstancias de minha volta são enigmas até para mim, Igigi. Quando, e se encontrar respostas para minhas próprias perguntas, compartilharei contigo o que puder.” Caro amigo? Quanta gentileza, ou provocação. Lembrar do vazio e da atmosfera sem cor que o esperava na Morte endureceu levemente o semblante jovem da criação, mas não muito. Como mortal, estava fadado à voltar ao Submundo, nunca encontrando caminho alternativo para a morada dos Deuses ou a imortalidade em terra.
Ele nunca procurou pelo primeiro, e o segundo já havia perdido de seu alcance.
It wasn’t the call of the woods anymore; now it had an actual voice, reaching her ears with the same soothing quality as that of the atmosphere around them. Turning on her heels, Amaterasu soon spotted the subject of her curiosity, green locks almost indistinguishable from their surroundings.
“ごめんなさい,” she muttered sheepishly, taking one step closer. That was pretty much the whole extension of her Japanese skills, except maybe for a few words that could help her around, of course, but weren’t nearly enough to make for a conversation. “I don’t… I don’t really speak Japanese. English?”
It was embarrassing, of course. But then again, if once learning the language had been in her plans, that was part of a past life now; with the clock ticking, she couldn’t possibly dream of wasting any second.
At least she could hope for that person’s understanding – and perhaps they would indulge her curiosity. Whoever that person was, there was something more to them, something she couldn’t quite place. But she had spent more than enough time in the company of both gods and humans to have a grasp on their natures.
The woman’s young face was painted with strong pigments Lancer had never laid eyes on before that day. The bright orange of her locks was in the center, and a blue lighter than lapis lazuli delineated both eyes. Still, she was far too remote for him to verify more, even after the first steps she took towards his ground.
Japanese, English. Languages that did not dream of existing epochs ago made its way to the Servant’s tongue, flowing as if they belonged there since always. Convenient gift from the Grail.
“English is adequate.” Or any other way she wished to speak to the verdant figure. He didn’t stand up to greet the visitor, both feet immersed inside clean water as little tadpoles swam around his ankles and under soles. Maybe an extravagant soul like hers fancied a warmer welcome... He would see.
The Servant propped hands behind his back, leaning backward in an attempt to ease his posture - a silent evidence he had no plans of assaulting her. “May I inquire, if I have that liberty, what a damsel as yourself search within this ground?”
“You aren’t lost; you don’t seem so.”
Em pratos limpos: Gilgamesh era dono de um ego tão grande que não coube nas tábuas. Das grandes pessoas de Uruk, admito que prefiro Lugalbanda. Esse era menos... Menos "recusador". (Me desculpe, não resisti.)
Tell my muse what you think of their significant other. @wildherzgeist
“Tua palavra não é em vão, Igigi.” Há quanto o guerreiro não encontrava um ser como aquele, ouvidos, olhos dos próprios Deuses. O poder palpitante e quente que emanava da forma diante dele só poderia ser o de uma Divindade secundária, aqueles que seguiam os maiores por toda eternidade.
E que belas criaturas eles eram.
“O ego do Rei Dourado por pouco não possui existência própria, tamanha é sua vivacidade. A preferência de cada merece meu respeito; afinal, compreendo como odiosos os métodos de meu amigo podiam ser. Perante deuses e mortais.” Enkidu não conheceu o feroz Rei e Deus protetor de Gilgamesh. Falar dele, de seu reinado, seria imodesto.
"Sad scenario cause Grail war is never fair" Enkidu meets Gilgamesh... as BERSERKER (According to Ace/Royal it's one of his alternate classes) and worst of all, he won't listen to reason due a Mad enchantment
ooc. Why would you do this to m– ah, but I love some terrible angst in my life, so thank you for the ask (serious)! I have seen at least one gorgeous fanart of Berserker Enkidu, and it made me wonder: do you think he would be summoned as his ‘original’ self, the Clay Monster? Or maybe not…
And, in my opinion, I think Enki and Gil would end up killing each other if that happened \: (I LOVE PAIn). But that’s just how I see things, who knows?
This blog will make you feel at peace
How many yous have you been? How many, Lined up inside, Each killing the last.
Kate Tempest, “The woman the boy became” (via nicola-blank)
@enumaelishs
The sound of her prayers still echoed in her ears. Other than that, however, the world was silent around her, nothing but the wind whispering through omikuji and the leaves of the trees surrounding the temple. Peace, even if briefly, as the world sang back to her. For a moment, she allowed herself to simply lay still, eyes closed, letting the remaining senses dive in such calmness.
She barely noticed she stood now, as if her body acted on its own will – but it wasn’t like she didn’t want the same, was it? It was still early enough; plenty of time left to step into sunlight and make her way back… home?
(No. Home should be here, shouldn’t it?)
Putting those thoughts aside, she walked barefoot towards the woods, registering with every new step the wood, the stone, the grass and the earth against her skin. Did she walk on sacred ground, or was her touch to make it holy? Too many questions, not nearly enough time to figure the answers.
A moment of hesitation. Breathe in, breathe out… And then she embraced the woods, or accepted their embrace. Silence as she hadn’t heard in a while, profound enough to speak of secrets to one’s soul. Her hands touched idly the trees around her, fingertips studying the texture.
Silence, and then silence no more. Quiet, quiet, but still another heartbeat.
“… だれだ?”
How far he must had strayed away from the continent he was summoned into; Lancer couldn’t know. And that didn’t signified much to him, either. Any forest, foreign or nameless, was his primordial home, his fountain and sanctuary. Be it at one side of the world, or at the other. His Master accompanied him too, although the white wolf already had found another distraction to play with.
Alone the Spirit was left, and alone he had time to appreciate fauna and flora surrounding his temporary existence. Many tall and thin trees filtered the sunlight in that region, shadows of their branches and uncountable leaves painting the ground. He could feel, kilometers away, clean headwaters and cold streams of water meandering the woods, blue veins inside one green organism.
But not only that. As much as the river and the soil drawn his attention, a singular Energy elsewhere was more vigorous than anything else. It was not a Servant, he could tell that at least, and yet its power left him at a loss for words.
Close. It was so close, that instant, making its way to the narrow riverside he had chosen to spend the entire afternoon. And sitting on a pile of wet leaves, feet immersed under quiet water, he saw the figure meters away.
A human? One woman.
She faced the opposite side, and spoke in an unknown dialect he still could understand. If the hue of his hair was cold and balanced, that maiden over there had warm and radiant locks, complete opposites. She convoked a name, inquiring the presence she had already felt. There was no use in withdrawing, and the nameless creature didn’t want to do so.
His blessed curiosity.
“Here.” Androgynous voice called her as well, in the same uncommon language, his the tone overcoming all sounds nature had to offer at the moment. Would she accept his calling?
“Right here, near the undisturbed water.”