saniwabito:
-This is absolutely how it is to have a very, very good friend! She might have stolen his car keys in some format in the past, which is another activity that two friends engage in a healthy amount. But the way she sees more of something in his eyes, be it a sprinkle emotion or the spark of a kitty who is being extremely naughty, allows her to know that the two of them are on the same wavelength before he even speaks it.-
Exactly. Ishtar.
-She turns toward where the city walls don’t obscure the mountains in the distance, to–ah, she’s heard of Ebih during her time and its association with Ishtar. Or, at least, sightings of her going there after reported shenanigans in the area.-
The Ishtar we have back at home accumulates stores of aether in treasures. Usually gems. It’s not unlike the crystals accumulated by beast tribes. Or, well, used in said eikon summonings.
The density and kind of aether here should be much, much more potent than anything imaginable. If I were her and if I know her, I’d have a pretty huge cache accumulated already.
-She turns back to him, smiling a little bit.-
She probably won’t be too keen to give them up willingly. We could barter, maybe… But I’m not sure either Gilgamesh would want to go that far. He’s, ah–there’s a history. Siduri, maybe…
-But on the subject of it tantalizing her–to go on a little adventure. A little escapade. A little trip with a good friend, hand in ?hand?. Claws in claws? Just a jaunt right up to the temple–then have someone whose presence could counteract the monstrous Tiamat-Gorgon combination. It takes care of most things. The gaze issue, however, remains. Zenos might be rock hard at all times, but being that kind would put her out of yet another companion.-
-But, of course, who can deny the fucking sick prospect of dragon-on-dragon fights. And who could deny the staging he was setting for the performance. She can see that silhouette against sunset all over again when she shuts her eyes. Imagining his form, and–and maybe that little bit of dissatisfaction she has felt for her own performance in the singularity thus far. Reveling in the bloodshed of someone who wears the face of a friend isn’t generally “her thing,” but there’s a little bit of naughty kitty in Memeko. Just a bit. One, like her dear friend with her, enjoys something about this.-
Of course I’d wait for you. I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t.
-A touch casual. A touch just a little naughty.-
[He listens. He is absolutely, unmistakably listening for once, not tuning out her words like he has tuned out a veritable mountain of wawing and kingly laughing and tasks about the city. He watches lazily as Memeko turns towards the mountain range that houses the next step to their dance. He understands. To him, of course, it is not a matter of duration or expectancy- he has the greatest confidence, after all, that however much aether he may sup upon, that will be enough for them both to enjoy themselves and to fell their quarry. He has never been offered anything but the best, and he shall never offer anything but the best himself, regardless of what he has to work with or what he must pry or from what boring spoils he must pry it from, so long as it suits him.]
Oh? She may not give them up willingly?
[It is jovial, teasing, though not at her expense- more a simple chuckle at the fact that of course that is the way of things. Even if we could pluck this eikon’s aether from it so harmlessly, like some cowed fount of sustenance, would that really satisfy either of us, my friend? Well. It may satisfy Memeko. It might. He won’t begrudge her that. Just another one of life’s little differences.]
[Of course, he does not take ‘then maybe we should negotiate’ out of that statement. He just smiles. Keeps smiling.]
I see, my friend. Then I shall avail myself of what aether I find there for the taking. If the eikon is subdued, if the eikon is annihilated, so be it.
[Of course, perhaps the creature can be negotiated with, or subdued by Memeko’s intoxicatingly effective Friendship Wrestling, but he knows. That is not his wheelhouse. He knows exactly what his wheelhouse is. He looks over towards Mt. Ebih, a heat-seeking missile to the flame that will finally warm his heart, and he just. Starts walking. There he goes. He’s just going. Right that way. There he goes.]
And if I were to keep you waiting, my friend- I have known that disappointment. I have known that languor. I would see you bask in it until you are brilliantly aflame, but... we have both waited long enough.
[Awww. A smile!]
We burn the same, but take to different kindling. I will deliver you to the creature, and you will see it dead.
[He’s just. Clanking off. Fucking Zenos. There he goes? Doesn’t even wait? Doesn’t pack for his trip? Doesn’t reconsider his wardrobe? Man on a mission. Off to find out how many licks it takes to get the center of a magical ruby?]














