RP:Extremity Measures

Part of the Dissonance Theory Arc

This is a Warrior's Guild RP.

Summary: Gilgamesh is finally questioned about the experiments that's been done to him when it's discovered that he's mutated further as a result of them. It does not go well.

Vigilanti Semper, Venturil

Lionel || Gilgamesh poked the horse gently and chuckled. The man of three-plus meters towered over the horse, with his grey skin and beady yellow eyes sticking out as much as his four sore thumbs. Gilgamesh, after all, had four arms and seldom knew what to do with them. When he poked the horse, his other three hands flailed in the air behind him like tails. “Who’s a good horse?” The horse neighed softly, confirming their shared suspicion that this horse was, in fact, the good horse. And so passed another quiet morning at the stables in Vigilanti Semper; since his arrival a week ago, the Greydusk had spent his time volunteering to tend the guild’s rides and asking only that he be allowed to sleep beside them rather than being forced into quarters somewhere. The horsemaster, Honest Abe, was all too pleased to grant Gilgamesh his request; after all, Honest Abe had been told upon Gilgamesh’s arrival that none of the soldiers felt comfortable slumbering beside a known thief with at least six limbs whose snore had already become infamous to boot. The usual hustle and bustle of the courtyard around noontime prompted the big man in gaudy red robes and oversized shoes to stumble his way to the gazebo. Here, he sat upon the swinging bench, unfolded a vegetarian sandwich and chomped away. The parents of children who had been pushing small action figurines into grooves at the gazebo for no apparent reason abruptly came rushing over to their offspring and herded them away like gazelle espying a wolf. “Harumph,” Gilgamesh declared. “Harumph, I say.” And he ate his sandwich in peace.

Brand was here. Khitti was here also, somewhere, probably. But Brand had gotten ahead of her on their way here and she hadn't caught up. Probably had something to do with her being mad at him. Why was she mad at him? Brand genuinely had no idea. No, really, he didn't. Something something, women and their impenetrable ways. (The author would like, at this time, to note that Khitti's anger was perfectly reasonable and justified; Brand had put his foot in his mouth again and said something thoughtless and more than a little rude. But it hadn't been intentional, and so Brand held that Khitti's reasons for being angry at him couldn't possibly have been anticipated or understood.) Brand would just have to assume that Khitti would catch up eventually, and ... maybe she'd forget by the time she got here? He really didn't want to have to deal with an angry wife. Especially on an empty stomach, which he had. Brand went in search of food first thing upon his arrival at Vigilanti Semper, then wandered into the courtyard to eat. And lo and behold, there was a vaguely familiar face, eating the same sort of sandwich Brand had (although Brand's had significantly more meat). Brand decided to join the man, all nonchalant and casual and not at all planning on interrogating him or anything. "Sup," he said. And then he did. Sup, that is.

Khitti || The fight with Brand? Well, that had been over Dominic. She’d wanted to bring him with them to the Warrior’s Guild headquarters because she was still convinced things weren’t safe, even if Jessamine and James were dead (like Vigilanti Semper was any safer than the Tranquility lol). You’d think she was pregnant again with all the emotions and paranoia she had going on right now. Things were said… and then things were not said, thanks to an ever-cold shoulder on Khitti’s part and a Brand speeding off without her in an attempt to get away from her mom-rage. Dominic did tag along and between the drive and being tired from listening to his parents fighting, he was pretty tired once Khitti finally got there. Her tikifhlee was promptly “parked” and her kid taken up to the room that had been designated for her and Brand and tucked him in with his stuffed talking chicken and white velveteen rabbit. Thank the gods he fell asleep right away because mommy needed a drink. Where Brand opted for food, Khitti chose a glass, a bottle of whiskey, and a plate full of cookies. The paranoia had not left her, of course, and still reigned freely in her head as she went to the courtyard to keep an eye out for… anything really. There she found not only that husband of hers but someone else she didn’t particularly want to see right away. She resigned herself to thinking that it would be necessary for her to stay outside, because it was rather unlikely an attack of some sort would come from the inside--and if it did come from the inside, well, she’ll just kill everyone to make sure none of them are traitors. It’s fine. Totally fine. The cookies were shoved down her throat and the ground stared at as she did so, the whiskey soon following the dessert that Khitti desperately needed to stress-eat.

Quintessa has been changing up her work-out routine. Since late last night she's been out in the yard doing training drills with gladius, longsword, and two-handed claymore alike, practically smashing the wooden training dummies before calling for a replacement. A fire has been lit inside this woman but for what reason? Quintessa's short, dark hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, the loose bit of fringe in her face dripping with sweat as she breathes heavily, only giving herself time between exercises to catch her breath and rehydrate. She wasn't even pretending to maintain her guise as a vampire anymore. Did it matter? Would anyone here question her? Not now, anyway, as she duel wields a pair of short swords and hacks the training dummy over and over. One last, powerfully mistimed swing causes the hex blade to cry out in pain, her wrist absorbing the force of the impact of metal against wood. One gladius hits the dirt, her right hand unable to maintain her grip, while Quintessa impales the ground with the other to cradle her injured wrist. "Delisha's bosom-" she curses in a whisper, the changeling's booted heels digging into the earth as she pivots away from the dummy. Mismatched eye spot Brand on his way to the gazebo to join some giant, grey monstrosity that Quintessa had never seen before. With a huff of exhaustion finally creeping up on her, the hex blade moves forward to grab her towel from a tree stump and wipe her forehead, watching the two carefully from her vantage point in the yard. "Lunch time already?" Quintessa asks herself before carefully lifting her satchel, which had been propped against the same stump. What had the strange girl brought from Vailkrin to eat? A bag of human eyeballs, warm from sitting out in the sun too long. The changeling gingerly pops one into her mouth, chewing viciously with her mouth of sharp teeth as she watches Khitti come out at last with a cookie-whiskey pairing. Not one to judge, Quintessa makes her way over to join them, her eyes of blue and hazel flickering between the trio joined here. "So," the young necromancer says, trying to force small talk, "How 'bout that final match? Who would've thought Vex would win?" Quintessa is still salty about losing.

Lionel || Gilgamesh had no idea what was going on here. He waved three of his four hands in a friendly enough gesture toward Brand – he was happy to see the sailor for the first time since they’d shared a very special tropical island getaway party together. And while Khitti seemed angry about something, Gilgamesh didn’t understand the customs of the peoples on this side of the portal well so he assumed it was one of the many things he’d simply never understand. It was fine; these two were friends, or at least probably not enemies, and so long as Gilgamesh kept his thievery to a minimum around here he dared think he might be able to get along with them. Silence wasn’t the Greydusk’s forte, however, so he opened his mouth between bites to speak… only for a small vampire sweating in the cool breeze to emerge from who-knows-where and begin plucking eyeballs into her mouth. Gilgamesh’s lips curled uncomfortably and he did his best to breathe through his mouth. After all, the heightened senses he’d received courtesy of Kahran’s scientist’s cruel experiments had given the big man all sorts of quirks, and one of them was an allergy to vampires. That this particular vampire would be ingesting eyeballs made the moment seem handcrafted for Gilgamesh’s displeasure. “Match?” he asked blankly. “Blitzball?” Peering up at the odd girl, his yellow eyes lit up brightly. “And here I thought it was merely something we played in the Shadow Plane. The waters there are murky and red sometimes. Okay, oftentimes. Here, the waters are blue. It could be a refreshing sport, indeed. Is Vex a great blitzballer?” He bit into his onions-and-peppers sandwich with glee.

Brand was, as previously established, quite the jock in another life. -This- Brand, however, didn't know anything about a 'blitzball', and he'd say as much if his mouth wasn't really full of Craughmoyle Cheesesteak at the moment. In Brand's defense, he was halfway through his sandwich and still starving. Eating was more important than conversing right now, or at least it was right up until the moment he spied Quintessa casually popping an eyeball into her mouth. That put a little bit of a damper on his appetite, at least long enough for him to say, "Gross." His opinion now officially opined, Brand resumed eating. He was bothered, but not -that- bothered.

Khitti || There sure was some weird stuff going on here right now. Khitti looked up finally when Quintessa spoke… and then Gilgamesh spoke… “What the actual hell?! When did you get those,” Khitti said pointing a chocolate-covered finger at his new arms. “Those were definitely not there last time I saw you.” She looked at the bottle she’d been pouring from--nope, it’s not even half-way gone yet. “I could’ve told you he’d win the moment he kicked my ass, Quintessa. No offense to Kasyr, but your other teacher is almost always as drunk as I wish I was now.” The redhead set her plate to the side, downed another glass of whiskey, and got up to inspect the Greydusk. Typically, Khitti tried to respect other people’s boundaries, because she did not like people shoving their way through her own, but… that took a backseat for now because she was now very much all up in Gilgamesh’s business and was poking at those two new appendages. “Okay, first illusions and now this… What the frak did they -do- to you over there? You did not initially seem as bad as Jessamine and James, but now I very much take that back. Were there others with you? Are they dead? Or are they still over there?” Khitti stared at the four-armed, entirely too tall, elf-like dude for a moment, expecting him to answer every single thing right then and there. Well, that wouldn’t do however, because Khitti had nothing to write answers down on. “WAIT! Don’t say anything yet.” Thumb and forefinger ends were stuck in her mouth and a ridiculously loud whistle was given to who knows what. There was nothing for a few moments until Khitti’s tikifhlee bounded into the area and came skidding to a stop next to its owner. Khitti dug around in the cat’s saddlebags; a rubber ducky, some brightly colored blocks, a previously used vampire-grade violin string used as garrote wire, some light blue lingerie--wait no, -that- stayed in the bag--and a bit of grave soil were all tossed to the ground until “AHA!”. Khitti found her black research notebook and a pencil and resumed standing way too close to Gilgamesh, whether he liked it or not. “Okay. Now. Tell me -everything-.” The word ‘everything’ was probably a little menacing. Thankfully for Brand though, she seemed to have completely forgotten that she was upset about something.

Quintessa pops another eyeball in her mouth, the juicy optic squishing loudly as she chews. The changeling stares at Gilgamesh blankly, like this entire situation was completely normal. This guy was obviously insane. "Not really," she says after swallowing her morsel, "I beat him in the third round- that's why this is so surprising for me." Mismatched eyes quickly flicker to Brand and his judgement about something being gross and the changeling simply shrugs. "Mixing cookies with alcohol isn't -that- bad," she says, trying to defend Khitti even though Brand had clearly meant her bag of human eyeballs. Quintessa swats at the flies that try to steal from her before finding her own seat, one long leg crossed over the other as Khitti breaks into a rant about something. Wide eyes stare at the Templar, watching her search through her belongings as Quintessa continues to munch on her less-than appetizing snack. "I still beat Vexar," Quintessa mumbles forlornly before leaning over to ask Brand a question. "So, who is this guy?" she asks, her head tilting in his direction. "Like, a family friend or something?"

Lionel || Gilgamesh blinked. “I’m accosted! Cornered, ramshackled, accosted!” Gone were dreams of blitzball in nicer climes; the weird vampire girl had forced the poor man to stifle a sneeze but she was no longer in the picture of his life. Nor was Brand, the congenial fellow who had shown Gilgamesh the true meaning of joy the day he’d gotten drunk with talking raccoon folk. The world called Khitti invaded the Greydusk’s existence now, eclipsing the rising sun and blanketing the clouds in her fiery presence. “Um, um, well, yes,” he admitted, “it’s true, the arms are a new thing, but they weren’t my idea!” He stood up in a huff only to immediately sit himself back down on the bench. Khitti’s zone of control was that mighty. “I’m no family friend,” Gilgamesh protested to Quintessa. “Well, I suppose I’m perhaps a friend of the family, but that’s different!” He looked around suspiciously. Where was Sundance, anyway? The comical dwarf wouldn’t have treated a friend in this fashion. “I also have three extra toes, two on one and another on the other,” the Greydusk added nervously. “And it’s a good thing I’m wearing a hood because I think, possibly, I don’t want to jinx it, but there may be the onset of… foot… on the back of my head.” Scratching his scalp idly, he sighed and nearly cried. “Everything? You want me to tell you everything? Well, at some point I was born. Don’t remember when. My mother was the nicest Greydusk this side of Wintry Vale.” All four of his hands pointed in opposing directions. “Wait. That side, I guess. Since we’re not in the Shadow Plane. Pray forgive me, lady. I know not the parlance for this devilry.” Clearing his throat, he lowered his hands to his lap, where the remains of his sandwich were held. “I was a rebellious sort and I got into all sorts of trouble, and then one day I sort of ran into a nasty sort of people, who followed that Kahran fellow, and it sort of came to pass that a really mean sort of man named Caiburne injected me with, sort of like, I don’t know,” he waggled his hands for emphasis, “the life essence of several dozen other living creatures, and he said I’d not survive three more years at most, and then I started sprouting extremities and it was gross, like if someone eats eyeballs, that level of gross, but then I kind of – sort of – ignited green pillars of flame all around me and materialized swords out of thin air and burnt and stabbed all of Caiburne’s lackeys and he sort of barely got away with his life, and then Kahran’s folk tracked me and caught me and punished me but did even more to me, and then they made me watch as they killed my tribe, and then they killed my dog, I’m sorry, I can’t eat this anymore, would anyone like some onions and peppers, I hate that I killed plants just to survive.” He promptly laid himself down upon the bench and rolled over on his belly, potentially pushing Brand off the bench inadvertently. “I just want to die. So instead I take care of the horses. And cows. And sometimes I sort of steal everything I see, because why not.”

Brand had an unexpected reunion with the ground. That's what happens when you're pushed off a bench and gravity is a thing. Brand didn't really mind, though. He'd finished his sandwich, so there was no food to spill out of his lap and be rendered inedible. (Not that necessarily would have stopped Brand anyway -- five second rule.) And anyway, Brand needed an excuse to stand up and go get another sandwich, and this event was as good as any. He stood up, dusted himself off, turned to leave... then remembered he should probably say something sympathetic in order to not seem like a total ass. "Oh. Yeah, that's rough, dude. Same thing happened to me. And to Khitti. Well, same kinda traumatic events, different people, different weird experiments, significantly less unusual limb growth." Man, he really wished he still had a sandwich right now. Taking a bite out of one would really help punctuate this pause. Alas. "And since we got away from that life, we're doing okay." In other words: suck it up, Buttercup. And Brand walked off to get himself more food. Bye.

Khitti wrote down everything Gilgamesh said, from his extra parts, to his birth, to the fact that he was the rebellious sort. It’s a certain C word, or name rather, that caused Khitti’s pencil to falter in its task and draw a not-so-straight line right off the page she was on. “Caiburne?!” For frak’s sake. Was there no one that guy hadn’t tormented? Well, surprisingly, he hadn’t had direct contact with Khitti and Brand, otherwise his spirit and skeleton would not still be trapped in a tree outside Callum and Meri’s house right now. That whole mess was an entirely different and equally frustrating topic that Khitti’s writer was not going to get into. She opened her mouth to ask even more questions, but that’s when her dear husband decided to give their fellow science experiment his condolences. And then Brand left. An extremely long sigh escaped from Khitti before she finally spoke again, “Yeah. He’s right. Necromancers got me when I was a kid, killed an Umbrawisp, and fused her to me magically. There’s a bunch of prophecies about it, people decided to listen to them, the thing happened, and now everyone in the Shadow Plane calls me ‘Harbinger’. What he’s not right about is that you’re not always going to be okay. It’s just… like that I guess. Brand’s an ass though and bottles up his problems.” She gave the doorway Brand had left through, to get another sandwich, a very pointed stare. “Okay, I guess I do too, but that’s not the point.”

Khitti flailed her arms a little, notebook and pencil still in hand, as she tried to wave away the tangent that’d been created. “All of that aside, this is a problem. We just had to deal with some other experiments recently. They completely frakked up the Shadow Plane and I still have to help get it fixed properly. They were also Caiburne’s. Someone I know had problems with him -before- he was one of Kahran’s and even now after he’s been dead a second time. But -that- is for them to deal with. -I- need you to tell me if you’ve seen anymore people like you here. Most Lithrydelians don’t know about or don’t understand the Shadow Plane. I need to find others like you before there’s a panic… because I guess the Shadow Plane is my responsibility at this point.” Khitti sighed again and backed off from the Greydusk, allowing him his space finally. “It’s bad enough I’ve taken people from here over there. Some of them have not come back quite the same and I need to stop it from happening further, if possible.” Guilt still ate away at Khitti when it came to both Meri and Brand’s trauma from the other realm and if it happened to anyone else? She really wasn’t sure what she’d do. Her attention shifted to Quintessa, the redhead frowning somewhat, “I think the Warrior’s Guild is going to need that copy of the Shadow Plane book I handed over to Bradyn…”

Quintessa was just about to ask Brand if he needed help, but he kinda seemed like a guy who was too cool to accept any so she continues to eat the eyeballs that Gilgamesh was so bothered by. There were a lot of things being mentioned that Quintessa just doesn't know about. Kahran? Caiburne? The talk about running experiments caught her attention though. The mage, being of a scientific mind, began to run the calculations in her head. To cause these kinds of mutations would require an awful lot of resources devoted to the research of it first. If only Quintessa could get her hands on it... "I would quite like to talk to this Caiburne one day," the changeling says flatly, still trying to follow along. The Umbrawisp bit particularly makes her eyebrows raise. "Hmm... I wonder how difficult it would be to catch one... the venom would likely be very potent. Just like your venom, eh, Khitti?" Quintessa gives her a cheeky grin before popping another eyeball in her mouth. Really, how many did she have? "Shadow Plane book?" The odd girl swallows hard. "I can copy it down if you'd like me to. Copying books is 90% of being an Arcane Stewardess." That, and Quintessa wanted a copy herself. She wasn't entirely without her own agenda.

Lionel || Gilgamesh stared at Khitti with his deep jaw agape, yellow eyes wide, and all four arms crossed over his big, grey chest. “Um, um,” he tried to get a word in edge-wise. “Lots of bad people, and you’re good people, and it’s good looking out, and you’re good at looking out, and I can tell by being beneath your rueful gaze that you’re a strong and sturdy protector, and with a husband who can out-drink any tanooki in the known seas you’re bound to help us. So, y-yes,” he stifled another sneeze, dragging himself up off of the bench and biting his lip. “Um, there are more like me. I’m kind of antisocial, and besides, I like stealing things, though I should note I haven’t stolen a thing from here, though I’ll add that if I had, I might claim otherwise, but honestly I’m telling the truth. Well, I might have stolen some potatoes from the other survivors of Caiburne’s experiments. I can show you where they live. They sort of have a portal up between the Shadow Plane and this, what, Lithrydel Plane, I guess? They have it open 24/7, like this cookie shop down Larket way. They sell cookies,” he added. “I stole them,” he immediately admitted. “But I digress. They keep the gate up in case more of our kind make it through. But they won’t, because the rest of us are dead. And in keeping that gate open, all they’re doing is making it more obvious where they are. It’s sad, maybe even as sad as the fact that I’m going to do covered in hands and feet.” Gilgamesh shrugged sheepishly. “When you’re ready, I will take you to them. They’re not far, but they aren’t close.” Whatever that meant. “But only if you promise that the guild’s horses will be in good company while I’m gone. They want for companionship. They’re seen as tools, not friends.” Gilgamesh shook his big head and sighed. But before he could continue answering Khitti’s inquiries, the little vampire said she wanted to meet Caiburne, and all bets were suddenly off the table. The four-armed man leaped over the wooden bench and covered his face with twenty fingers. “No, no, no! This one wants to meet him? This one would do the same and worse to us, I can sense it! I don’t want her coming along. I don’t want anyone hurting my… family,” the Greydusk struggled to say. And that was that. He stomped off into the distance, hoping against hope he would be left alone until Khitti and her quiet husband were ready to depart. He turned a corner, and then another corner, and then another, rounding the castle keep in a bid to vanish from their sight. Unfortunately for him, the fourth corner he turned simply brought him right back where he was before. “Ahem,” he added as if this was all to plan, “and now I’ll be off.” This time, he entered the door to the keep and hid himself inside somewhere.

Brand never came back. There was a long line in the kitchen, and an even longer amount of time necessary for Brand to contemplate all the condiments and toppings he could possibly put on his second sandwich. He didn't want the same kind of sandwich he had before, but struggled to come up with a second configuration that he liked just as much. While he was puzzling over his sandwich-to-be, though, he could have -sworn- he saw a six-limbed Greydusk pop into the kitchen, spy him, and quickly disappear again. He couldn't be sure, though. He only saw out of his corner of his eye. And, Lithrydel being an exceedingly strange place, what he saw could have been almost anything. Shrugging it off, Brand eventually did finish his sandwich and rejoin the others in the courtyard. Only, Gilgamesh was no longer there. Brand peered over Khitti's shoulder at the notes she'd been taking, instead. "Huh," he said helpfully, then set himself to eating sandwich number two.

Khitti || “No,” Khitti said to Quintessa rather quickly, with that definite ‘mom’ tone to her voice. “Caiburne is like a cancer that just keeps eating away at everything and if it were not for unfortunate circumstances with some of the witches, his soul would be well within the void where it damn well belongs. And you’re not “catching” anyone. They’re people. Would -you- want to be taken and experimented on?” She was hinting, of course, to the fact that Quintessa was very much not a vampire. “No copies of the book. There’s only 2 for a reason. Because of things like this--” She gestured to Gilgamesh, “--Because of things like Kahran. Because of things like those people that attacked us here not all that long ago. If the people in the Shadow Plane have designated me their world’s keeper, then I’m going to damn well keep it the way it’s supposed to be.” Gilgamesh spoke again and Khitti’s stern demeanor melted away into something along the lines of sympathy. She doesn’t get a chance to speak again thanks to the Greydusk’s freakout and quick exit and she’s left to glower at… well anything other than the two she currently wants to glare at. This was not helpful and now, it was likely that only her and Brand would be allowed to escort Gilgamesh to wherever the hell his “family” was hiding. “A whole lot of frakking help you were,” she said to Brand, though really it could’ve been said to Quintessa too. That anger from earlier had returned in full force and she wondered why she ever asked anyone to help her with anything lately. Much like Gilgamesh, she frakked off elsewhere. Sorry, Brand. You get to babysit Dominic while Khitti’s sulking in the Dead Forest nearby.

Quintessa is utterly confused by Gilgy's sudden departure, so she call after him using the nickname she just thought of. "Gilgy! Come back! You're got the wrong idea!" The changeling sighs in exasperation. Was it something she said? Quintessa's mismatched eyes flickered to Khitti and from the expression on her pale face it looked as though she was mostly in agreement with her. "That's why I want to speak to him- to figure out what he's learned and confiscate his research to reverse what he's done. Everything, even things on the Shadow Plane, operate on cause and effect. If we know the details of the cause we can come closer to nullifying the effects. Hey- Where are you going?" Quintessa stands to call after her teacher, a hint of fire in her tone. "Do not let your fear blind you to the advantages of using Caiburne's own knowledge against him! Do not handicap yourself! I'm on your side!!" Frustrated, Quintessa throws her bag of eyeballs away into the distance for the crows and ravens to find before storming past Brand to return to her training. Lunch was officially over.