[...but modern beds are terribly soft, and he hasn't had a good excuse to curl up on one since he was summoned. So, in the name of comforting his Master, he scoots up to the head of the bed and curls up there himself.
[That's surprisingly nice. And warm and solid, considering he's dead and all.
Suddenly two things hit Tokiomi at once:
1. He really likes Gil, like a person and not a familiar.
2. He is not, in fact, alone in this big scary world just because he doesn't have Kirei to tell him what's best. Because there is someone else here, and because that person makes him feel like he can handle it even if he did have to carry on by himself.
flopping his blankets over Gil too and taking advantage of his chest as a good place to cry out all this pent up emotion that seems to be leaking out uncontrollably at the moment]
[He drapes his arms around his Master and lets him cry. Gilgamesh had counted on cruelty and hardship for the both of them, but he never once thought to question Tokiomi's ability or resilience. His Master had proved worthy from the beginning, and that sense of acknowledgement has become an undeniable affection, the sort that he imagines he'd only be capable of in this younger body of his.
In his down time, he's meditated on the sort of person he knows he became -- he can't call the result good or bad, but it's something he doesn't wish to see his Master duplicate. The modern world does not strike him as well-equipped to handle many great yet cruel men (indeed, it barely weathered his older self), and so he'd prefer Tokiomi to remain as he is now, kind and noble. The loneliness, in this case, is fixable, and Gilgamesh has set his mind to aiding in that.]
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streetwalkers2013-05-04 05:27 am
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And he's terribly, terribly pleased about it]
Ah, then perhaps I will. Thank you!
1/3
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Suddenly two things hit Tokiomi at once:
1. He really likes Gil, like a person and not a familiar.
2. He is not, in fact, alone in this big scary world just because he doesn't have Kirei to tell him what's best. Because there is someone else here, and because that person makes him feel like he can handle it even if he did have to carry on by himself.
And so: see icon.]
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flopping his blankets over Gil too and taking advantage of his chest as a good place to cry out all this pent up emotion that seems to be leaking out uncontrollably at the moment]
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[He drapes his arms around his Master and lets him cry. Gilgamesh had counted on cruelty and hardship for the both of them, but he never once thought to question Tokiomi's ability or resilience. His Master had proved worthy from the beginning, and that sense of acknowledgement has become an undeniable affection, the sort that he imagines he'd only be capable of in this younger body of his.
In his down time, he's meditated on the sort of person he knows he became -- he can't call the result good or bad, but it's something he doesn't wish to see his Master duplicate. The modern world does not strike him as well-equipped to handle many great yet cruel men (indeed, it barely weathered his older self), and so he'd prefer Tokiomi to remain as he is now, kind and noble. The loneliness, in this case, is fixable, and Gilgamesh has set his mind to aiding in that.]
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