[ic inbox] - Kaisou

[throwmoreswords]

You'd ought have a good reason for calling upon me directly, Mongrel.
State your case and don't bore me--or there may be consequences.

username: AUO

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text; un: AUO; 1/3

[throwmoreswords]

[ the ends justify the means, of course. if some people will see and do battle with the Hat Man for the next four days because they're so keyed up on lemon and coldbrew, then that is a sacrifice that must be made of the inferior men of this era.

Gilgamesh is lazily contributing to the daily search for the kitchen when the text comes in. he's walking out of the Vault letting the forty gold coins jingle merrily in his pockets (a surprise tool to entice Sampo with later) when his text tone plays. few numbers are allowed to trigger that noise, so he's quick enough to pick up the message--and then he has to go find his clown so that they can 'ooh' and 'aah' over the menu together, the King pretending that he's oblivious to the way fingers keep sneaking into his pockets as he delights over Yuzu lemons and speculates what sort of merlot Lycaon's gotten his paws on.

and then he gets to the second half of the message, and the world... doesn't stop, exactly, but there is a stutter as things cease making the full breadth of sense to the King between one heartbeat and the next.

all of this work took barely over four hours, and Lycaon still... wished to deduct time from the end product.

perhaps it was a testament to how distant the lineage of the King is from mortal men, but it'd make just as much sense to say adding two and four equaled banana revolution.

three hours and fifty-six minutes.

he turns to Sampo as he opens a different, pinned message-grouping in his phone. ]