#gudakesa

[aiiaiiiyo]

My lovely bride, 25 years ago today, June 4th, 1994. Check this blog!

[isolaradiale]

gudakesa replied to your post: yo gobble gobble 2: gobblegeddon

the gobbling intimidates me

[landsharkbite]

meet team beer makes smart, a name rosa was registered under at trivia night with acquaintances years ago-- it was the first thing she could think of upon being prompted and apparently there’s no appeals process. arjuna ( @gudakesa​ ) doesn’t comment on it and no one blames him.

[landsharkbite-archived]

🍷 we've never met but i swear to god

“Arjuna? The name’s familiar, I’ve seen him around. Always seemed nice enough to me, I’ve never had a problem with him. Still, there’s something that’s… I can’t describe it. Some weight to the way he looks at people that I can’t pin down. But gossip makes me queasy, Master-- I prefer honesty, from others and myself. If I’m going to talk about someone, I’d rather do it to their face than behind their back.”

[stemaotus-blog]

@gudakesa

Jinako had the perfect solution that can solve all her problems. No, she’s not getting a job. No, she’s not begging for help from strangers. There’s only one person she can stomach to beg and mooch off of, and that’s someone she definitely knows is here. He saved her again here, after all.

The only problem about her perfect solution that can solve all her problems is that she can’t find out where exactly he lives, nor can she remember where that big board with everybody’s living quarters. The trauma of the near-death experience wiped its location from her mind.

But, other people probably know him and, naturally, where he lives.

She walked outside (as much as she didn’t want to), her Karna plushie in tow. Jinako inhaled, exhaled, then greeted the first person she saw, pointing at the stuffed toy.

“Hey, guy with the dark hair. This is kind of stupid, but...have you seen someone who looks kind of like this toy?”

[aquastress]

@gudakesa !

Fish of all different kind swim past her as she forlornly looks out towards the sunken city from the glass tunnel she stood in. An explanation as to why she was here couldn't be given, all she remembers is waking up in this very spot, though there had been a few other people with her. They'd each decided to go off on their own, wanting to explore the aquatic metropolis they had all found themselves in. Though they offered, she declined stating that she'd rather stay here and keep safe by her lonesome. So there she stands, in front of the glass unmoving as she watched the outside.

Light footsteps disturb her quiet, alerting her that either someone has returned. In her hand she holds a small scrap of wood that she's come upon earlier, though not sharpened as much as she'd like to be, it could be of some use to her surely if they proved to be hostile. When he steps into the light ( thank goodness for the sun that shone down on them from above making it easier to see ) he  doesn't seem to be familiar, certainly not one of the people who had left her behind.

"Who...are you?" And what are you doing here, is what's she'd like to ask. But it'd probably be in her best interests not to be too guarded this time around.

[rogabitque]

@possidere​ @gudakesa​

The days are getting warmer as May marches onward, yellow sun marching inexorably through wide blue sky, burning away any lingering wisps of cloud and moisture in the air. It's hot, nearly unbearably so, and the loose hairs escaping from their tight braids around the nape of Bedivere's neck stick to his skin, wet with sweat, as he makes his way through this sun-baked city to the beach.

He's self-conscious walking around without his prosthetic, the stump of his right arm hidden in the folds of his light jacket and tucked closely to his body. His other arm is curled around a well-packed cooler, blanket, and beach umbrella, and he's dressed in...well, he's dressed like a man going to the beach, in swim trunks and a t-shirt with light jacket over it. Therein lies the reasoning behind him leaving his arm behind: sand is incredibly hard to clean out of it, and he would rather avoid the problem entirely if possible.

It had been his idea, originally. He's never been to a warm beach like the one hidden, folded somewhere within the depths of this city; his experiences with beaches are few in general, having been raised mostly inland as a child, and then living at Camelot for the majority of his adulthood. There were battles of course--great affairs of horses churning the sand to a froth of goop and saltwater with the consistency of some type of glue, hooves kicking up spray and gore and the gray tide washing away to leave bloated corpses in its wake. But those were not beaches that you built sandcastles on, or waded into the water of.

He wants to have fun. He wants to enjoy himself in ways he was never quite able to in his lifetime--despite the evenings of raucous bonding between knights, and the ties of brotherhood that were made there...the fun had been but brief breaks in their duty to a position that would end their lives while they were still young, and they knew it, in their own bleak, heroic way.

But other than himself, of course, there is Archer, who, if Bedivere was allowed to have a personal opinion on the man, is in desperate need of fun himself. He's past counting the amount of times he's turned his head and found Archer with a vaguely chilling expression on his face, lost somewhere in thoughts that Bedivere has no desire to be privy to. There's something... concerning about him, that reminds Bedivere of himself, and of his own lingering obsessions of duty and loyalty. But he is not in any way Archer's confidant, nor does he desire to be so--they are not close friends, and would probably have never spoken if not for their mutual affection for their shared Master.

And there is the second reason for this outing: his Master, little more than a young boy--it's not right for him to be shouldering the responsibilities he does, on top of everything else that has been happening, including their abrupt shift to this city. Bedivere knows this from experience: Gudao will wear himself out if he doesn't get the breaks he needs--and it's his duty, as a caretaker, to give him them, isn't it?

But he's not a caretaker anymore, he must remind himself. He's just a servant. He's just a servant who is concerned about his friend, and his Master, who thinks that he, at least, can help assuage some of what ails them.

They're at the beach already when he arrives, and he smiles fondly at them, waving to Archer and calling out to his Master. He spreads a blanket over the beach and sticks the unwieldy beach umbrella into the loose-packed sand, setting down his cooler and removing his jacket.

"I brought some sandwiches and drinks," he says, and he admires how beautiful the day is at the beach. The sun remains high in the sky, casting a glare across the clear blue water, the horizon little more than a blur in the distance. Waves lap against the shore, gentle instead of choppy, and thin wisps of cloud finally brave their way against the sky, assisted by a gentle, cool breeze that cuts the humid heat and the beating wings of gulls, calling out their grievances against each other and strutting around the beach in tandem with the tide. The salt and seaweed tang of the air is cut only by the almost palpable heat that shimmers off the sand, a warning to anyone who walked barefoot too far away from the water.

This, then, is the beach that he's dreamed of laying on, baking in the heat of--but first thing's first: he turns to Gudao. "Have you put on any sunscreen yet?" he worries at his Master, pulling a tube out of his pocket. The boy is just as pale as he is, and he knows how easily people as fair-complexioned as them burn. "And you, Archer? It's important to take care of your skin."

[horologiumus-blog]

                 ♚.{T}here she would stand in front of what seemed to be an abandoned large home. She had noticed there seemed to be a few here and there that weren’t in the greatest shape, but still seemed livable at least. If they were abandoned she would wonder if it would be okay for anyone to make a home out of them if they so well pleased. At least, a place to hide in until she could be granted a home that was better.

         The only question was, was there someone already living here perhaps? She had no idea. Another possibility was that someone could already have their eyes set on this place. ❝ Oh -- ❞

         She wasn’t really expecting someone to be around, well, she probably should have. Nonetheless she would greet them with a gaze and a small  nod. ❝ Is this place...your place? Or are you interested in it as well? ❞ Politeness would be the first thing she would think of. The girl didn’t want to simply take it, but she also wanted a place to hide.

@gudakesa