æAccession.Æ
Author: Trevelyan1983
The YAHF Costume thread. Griever. Me. Anachronisms. This is the result of that discussion.
A TFF exclusive, folks, for several reasons û it was spawned here, the anti-anime thing at the XanderZone is pissing me off, and I suspect that reviews and valid commentary will be a bit more forthcoming here. Plus, Gilgamesh is a dirty-minded, horny son of a bitch. We understand him û we are, after all, TFF. ^_^
Disclaimer: I donÆt own BtVS, or anything else here. Gilgamesh is pretty much public property, but this characterization of him and his abilities originated from the minds at TYPE-MOON.
There is room for a sequel û I will not, however, promise anything. Halloween based fiction is overdone, for one thing. For another, Real Life is about to intrude on my writing time. So enjoy it, and let me know what you think.
~
Sighing loudly, Alexander Harris threw down his pen in disgust.
ôOK, IÆm done. I canÆt write this stuff anymore.ö
On the other side of the library table, Buffy looked up and smiled slightly, putting down her pencil atop her own copy of their history project.
ôCuneiform too much for ya, Xand?ö
Rubbing his face, the young man made a negative noise in the back of his throat.
ôNo, Buff. Cuneiform are actually kinda fun û especially when you consider the boring junk Giles usually has us reading. Butà my brain is refusing to co-operate with any more work.ö
The background scratch of WillowÆs favourite HB pencil stopped at that point.
ôXander, come on! Do you have any idea how many extra marks we could get for looking at the original source?ö
Standing and stretching, Xander groaned as his back and shoulders popped.
ôNo clue, Wills. How many?ö
Willow gaped at him for a second, obviously not expecting such a redirection.
ôUhà wellà me neither! But itÆs sure to be a whole heap!ö
Shrugging, Xander just smiled at his best friend.
ôWell, I am in need of junk food. IÆm gonna go pick up some donuts. While IÆm away, you can think of the grammatical connotations of using æa whole heapÆ in reference to an academic points system. Buh-bye!ö
He left the two young women staring in shock at his retreating back.
ôB-Buffy?ö
ôYeah?ö
ôDid I just get zinged by Xanderà with grammar?ö
ôOh yeah. IÆd say so.ö
ôHuh. ThatÆs new.ö
-
Walking towards the donut shop, Xander whistled a jaunty tune and took in the sights, breathing the fresh air that was so foreign to the library.
æOK, so two jelly-filled, two with sprinkles and two with glaze. ThatÆs the usual order.Æ
HeÆd done this so often that he was surprised he didnÆt sleepwalk to the donut shop.
æMmmà donuts.Æ
Not that Giles deserved any, for getting Willow all caught up in the original text of The Epic of Gilgamesh. Sheesh.
æMaybe IÆll just eat those jelly donuts myself. ThatÆd teach him. Stupid book guy.Æ
So consumed by the thought of vengeance and sugary goodness was he, the teen failed to notice the new costume store that was setting up in advance of the upcoming Halloween. In fact, it wasnÆt until he was returning, box of donuts in hand, that he noticed the modest little place.
ôEthanÆs HalloweÆen Shoppe?ö
Frowning in thought, Xander stared at the store front.
ôWhatÆs with the extra letters?ö
More importantly, Xander realized, he had no idea what to dress up as.
ôIÆll be coming back for a closer look, I think. Maybe this dude will do a Vader costume or something.ö
Turning to walk away, he wondered idly if his box of donuts would score him æextra pointsÆ with the Buffster. Then again, ma-
æWhoah. Time out, Xander. YouÆre having a moment of genius.Æ
The Epic of Gilgamesh. Donuts. Halloween.
Gilgamesh. Halloween. Costume Shop.
Gilgamesh. Costume.
ôOhà Myà God. ThatÆs perfect!ö
He ran back to the High School, donuts cradled protectively. The sooner he got the project finished, the faster he could get himself a costume. ItÆd take all of his allowance, and possibly some of his road trip fund, but damn, itÆd be worth it!
-
The next day, Xander skipped out of a study period and went back to EthanÆs HalloweÆen Shoppe. Walking around the various racks of clothing and costume displays, he felt like a bargain hunter in a second hand store, looking for that elusive purchase.
In some ways, he was.
ôYou seem to be looking for something in particular, young man. May I help you?ö
ôAaah! DonÆt _do_ that!ö
ôTerribly sorry, young sir. I thought youÆd heard me walk over.ö
ôYeah, well, no harm done. ItÆs only a couple of years off my life.ö
Taking one last look around, just to make sure that there were no suits of armor in embarrassingly obvious places, Xander faced the older man.
ôOK, yeah, IÆm looking for something specific. Do you have anything like a suit of armor?ö
Ethan paused in thought, a thoughtful look narrowing his features.
ôWe have some armoured costumes, yes. Do you mean traditional armour or science-fictional stuff?ö
The young customer gave a rather vicious smirk.
ôThe original armour, man. I want a costume that would fit Gilgamesh, the God-King.ö
-
EthanÆs wide eyes surveyed the young American with the utmost surprise.
æOh my. I thinkà this could be something very, very special.Æ
ôYoung manà quite frankly, you surprise me. I was expecting another Stormtrooper, or a Batman, or some such dross. Thisà even I hadnÆt considered this as a possibility.ö
Tapping his chin, the Englishman began to inspect his inventory mentally.
ôYesà with a little innovation, we can cannibalize one or two items from other costumes and put together something for a Gilgamesh costume.ö
The ceremony had been performed on all of the clothes in his shop. Mixing and matching was acceptable, provided that the boyÆs intention to dress as Gilgamesh was strong enough to guide the spell. But if notà it would be disastrous.
Ethan waved him along, talking even as he led the boy back to the storage area.
ôWhere on earth did you hear of Gilgamesh, though?ö
ôWe were looking at The Epic of Gilgamesh for History class, and my friend suggested that we look at the original cuneiform.ö
æYes, the boy might just have what it takes.Æ
ôMy, that sounds like an impressive work ethic. I certainly wouldnÆt have bothered to do that when I was a teenager.ö
He could practically feel the unspoken æ_you_ were a teenager?Æ from behind him, but the boy held it in.
ôSo, what was so special about Gilgamesh, then, lad?ö
ôHe kicked a fertility goddess to the curb, man. ThatÆs just cool.ö
Had he been alone, Ethan would have rubbed his hands together and cackled with malicious glee. As it was, he nodded and made sagacious noises.
ôMm-hm, Mm-hm. It sounds like you were quite taken with him, my boy.ö
ôI guess so. He is pretty cool, and he has all sorts of neat adventures, too.ö
Ethan couldnÆt suppress an unkind grin.
æHeÆs about to have one more, boy. Gilgamesh! Bloody Hell!Æ
They arrived at the store-room, and Ethan unlocked the door.
ôWell, IÆll get some things from in here for the costume û do me a favour and keep your eyes peeled, will you? I donÆt want some little bugger making off with a costume.ö
Not that Ethan Rayne gave a damn about his overheads, or his turnover. No, he was unconcerned about either û what he was concerned about, was keeping a low profile and not drawing attention to his little piece of magical theatre secret until after it was a fait accompli.
And then escaping with his hide intact after Ripper got hold of him, of course. CouldnÆt forget that bit.
-
Five days later, the God-King stood in the doorway of Revello Drive, playing the part of a very patient King û with his tongue firmly in cheek.
ôLady Joyce, didnÆt you ever teach your daughter how to bring pleasure to the king?ö
Chuckling throatily, Joyce bowed her head with an obvious dose of sarcasm.
ôI beg my liegeÆs forebearance. My daughter is stubborn and hard-headed, so she wished to personally prepare herself for a night with your highness.ö
He crossed his arms over his plated chest, golden gauntlets rubbing against golden breastplate.
ôAcceptable, I suppose û serving the God-King is a serious matter.ö
Joyce winked suggestively at him.
ôIf my liege is restless, perhaps this old maid could be of service to him?ö
Xander blushed, before pretending to cough û giving him a way of covering his warm face. Dropping out of his character in shock, he pouted.
ôHey, no fair! ThatÆs hitting below the belt, Mrs. Summers.ö
Joyce tossed her hair and smiled innocently.
ôSo you donÆt want to test that batch of cookies I made up earlier, Xander?ö
Sniffing the air like Lassie, Xander was a picture of armor-plated normalcy.
ôLetÆs not be hasty, Mrs. S. The King needs his sustenance, after all.ö
Buffy and Willow walked down the staircase a moment later only to find their captive audience had somehow escaped them. Given that Willow had chickened out and gone for the Ghost outfit, Buffy wasnÆt going to complain too loudly.
-
æBy IshtarÆs teatsà where am I summoned to now?Æ
Gilgamesh rose from his undignified position on the ground and dusted his long crimson cape off. Then, straightening his breastplate and gauntlets, he looked at the surroundings.
ôHmmà this looks like America. Howà uninspired. I was hoping for somewhere a touch more exciting.ö
Then again, there was no way for him to control where and when he was summoned to. That was between his summoner and the Throne of Heroes.
æWhat kind of feeble-minded fool performs a summoning for a Servant of my caliberà and then disappears?Æ
And why had he appeared in the middle of the street, where any passing peon could behold him? Did no-one take the rules of secrecy seriously anymore?
It was enough to make the King of Heroes feel decidedly homicidal.
Deciding on a direction, he strode off imperiously.
æAfter all, if the kind soul who summoned me saw fit to supply me power and form, without any commandsà I shall just have to amuse myself for a time.Æ
A shrill voice shrieked from behind him.
ôXander!ö
Spinning in place, he prepared to lambast the shrew who dared make such a horrendous racket in his august presence. Then he swallowed his rage and allowed a slow smile to spread across his face. She wasà exotic. Red hair that fell to her shoulders, bright green eyes that sparkled with intelligence, a slender form barely covered by the tight garments that clung to her body.
æOh my. I simply must add you to my collection, little one.Æ
ôNo, milady û I am not he. Allow me to introduce myself û I am Gilgamesh, King of Uruk.ö
She stared at him, evidently enraptured by his majestic form.
ôUhà right. Well, itÆs an honor to meet you, your majesty. Willow Rosenburg, at your service.ö
He waved her statement away.
ôOf course you are. Now, I donÆt suppose you summoned me here, did you?ö
That would be quite acceptable û better this pretty thing than some mongrel magi with ideas above his station. He could even forgive the haphazard summoning in this particular case.
æAh, the magnanimity of a King. I am just, indeed.Æ
ôNo, my lord. IÆve been affected by some kind of magic, and canÆtà uhà touch anything. At all.ö
Gilgamesh took a closer look at her, and saw something that he had missed before û a flickering layer of magic overlaid on her form, giving her shape and cohesion, but which was not her body.
æAn intangible concubine just wonÆt do. Not at all. I shall have to rectify this little problem.Æ
ôWell then, my lady. Shall we find the mongrel who summoned me and who took your body from you, and put him to the sword?ö
She was stricken dumb for a moment, and Gilgamesh surmised that a person such as he had never stooped so low as to assist her before. Turning away, he smirked roguishly.
ôUmm... Yeahà that soundsà uhà g-good.ö
Opening up his senses, he was astounded at the amount of mana that surrounded this little American village. It was saturated in an unpleasant miasma, soaking everything within a ten mile radius of the town center.
æDrawing mana from this place would be a very bad idea û thereÆs not enough darkness for it to corrupt a personality, an ego as powerful as I. Not immediately û but given time even I would be at risk.Æ
Until he found a more reliable source of power, heÆd have to be sparing with his use of Noble Phantasms.
æWhen I find the worm who dared bring me to this placeà I will make his suffer such untold agonies, even Tiamat will shed a tear for the fool.Æ
His face, when he looked back, showed none of his unpleasant thoughts.
ôI wonder, would you serve as my guide, Willow? I am not familiar with this place.ö
She opened her mouth to answer him, but was interrupted instead by a scream of terror.
Gilgamesh turned all the way around and burst into a sprint, as Willow recognized the voice.
ôAh! ThatÆs Buffy!ö
Idly wondering what kind of a name that was for any woman, the God-King reached out for a weapon from the multitude that rested within his eternal treasury. Saving WillowÆs friend might make her more malleable, and her friend would beà grateful. Such gratitude might yet prove valuable, if they had knowledge of the world around them and the people of the town.
It was also to his benefit, judging by how many powerful magical presences were echoing across his awareness. Exposure to the background power had evidently caused them all to develop some meager magical talent, and some few major ones as well.
Gilgamesh could, perhaps, make use of that. If necessary, heÆd replenish his mana in an unsightly way. But there were far more enjoyable ways of doing it, if female magi were willing.
And they often were, as it happened, all too willing. The charisma of a demi-God was hard to resist.
-
Lady Elisabeth Summers was on the verge of panic û little demons has begun to swarm her soon after she was molested by the large monster on wheels.
æI wonder, might these be Leprechauns? They are certainly _savage_ enough to be Irish. Or perhaps Scottish. Yes, that seems likely.Æ
She flailed wildly, trying to dislodge the little beasts who were pawing at her.
ôDamn you, unhand me!ö
It was no good û for creatures of such small size, they were devilishly strong. It had to be some form of witchcraft, some malign force at work.
æIf so, what has that to do with me? God in Heaven, please, donÆt let them do this!Æ
She struggled again, and again she was ineffectual. Panting, she allowed her feeble struggling to pause. Perhaps, if she could make the monster think she was finished, a frantic burst of movement might free her.
When she stopped moving, stopped fighting, the sensation of just how disgusting the ghastly monsters were truly sank in, and she had to consciously choke down her revulsion.
æRepulsive little things. I wonÆt stand for this. By God, I wonÆt.Æ
Another thing became clear to her as she ceased struggling - the sound of metal echoing through the air. Opening her eyes, she saw a knight in golden armour approach her.
ôPlease help me, kind sir.ö
When her captors heard the sound of her voice, they hissed at her û until the knight drew his sword, which drew their attention somehow. Another voice spoke up from behind her saviour û some trollop following the nobleman, no doubt begging for the scraps from his table.
ôMilord, donÆt kill them û theyÆre victims of the same magician who did this to us!ö
The knight put away his blade, so quickly that it seemed to her that he had made it disappear.
ôVery well, Willow. I shall remove the magic that taints them, instead û mark well the power of your liege, woman.ö
There was a flash of light, and last thing she saw was the dark eyes of her rescuer, burning with power.
-
Gilgamesh smiled victoriously, feeling his mana reserves refill themselves, feeding off of the magic transforming the woman and her attackers.
ôExcellent. That will be more than enough to open the Gate of Babylon, if I have need.ö
He could kill his summoner with impunity, now. And add one more gorgeous creature to his growing collection.
æAny more women and IÆll need to form a harem. A bothersome task, but one a King must be willing to endure.Æ
The sarcastic grin on his features belied his words.
ôNow, Willow. Let us find a suitable place to rest and to deliver this woman unto û from there, we can divine the location of our mysterious Magi.ö
Picking the aristocrat up with surprising care, he lifted her by the shoulders and knees, resting her against his chest.
He noticed that the red-haired woman looked strangely relieved, with a flicker of jealousy in her eyes.
æOf course, she desires me. Fear not, young one. I am a generous master.Æ
ôYes, my lord. There is a safe place for us this way.ö
Turning, Willow lead the way for Xander and Buffy û wondering when the madness of this night would end. Then, almost against her own will, she hesitantly wondered how Xander could make being an arrogant bastardà so irresistibly attractive.
-
Looking at the building with a critical eye, Gilgamesh was rather unimpressed.
ôThis is rather a humble dwelling for one such as myself, woman.ö
Willow bowed her head, gritting her teeth in silence û how to appeal to his vanity...
ôI apologise, you Highness û this is her summer home, which is less becoming of her station and your own. Her fatherÆs home is several times larger than this, but is many hours journey from here.ö
Snorting in a way that was less than regal, the gold-clad hero shifted his dainty burden.
ôItÆll have to do, then. Needs must, even for myself.ö
It would likely be a touch more comfortable than that insufferable ass KotomineÆs home. And there were two gorgeous women at his beck and call.
æI shall bear the hardship, then û there was far less comfort in the old days with Enkidu, after all.Æ
Yes indeed û no need to find a comfortable area of the landscape to defecate in, here. That alone was worth most of the riches he possessed. Howeverà
ôI suppose IÆll have to open the door for myself, eh woman?ö
What purpose having a servant and then doing the work yourself? When he caught up to the Summoner whoÆd seen fit to play with the Throne of Heroes, he would dispense Divine justice the like of which Marduk would envy. And pain, too. Much pain.
Supporting the rescued maiden with one powerful arm, he shifted the other and opened the door, walking through it as though he owned the house.
He closed it on Willow as she walked through it, elicting an unimpressed look from the young lady.
ôIf you cannot control the humour of your eyes, woman, I will remove for you.ö
Giving a look that was both dubious and curious, the redhead questioned his statement.
ôUhàhow? IÆm a ghost, remember?ö
Placing his passenger down on a nearby sofa, straightening her dress as he rose.
ôAllow me to show you, little one.ö
His form shimmered and disappeared from the room. Willow looked around frantically, wondering what on earth Gilgamesh he had just done. A heavy hand landed on her backside, causing her to spin and blush simultaneously.
Gilgamesh stood behind her, his outline shimmering oddly û and now an arrogant blonde, red eyes shining with mirth.
ôNot bad. Not bad at all. I think you and I will have much to discover, once your body is returned to you.ö
WillowÆs blush went nuclear û this guy was forward, but he *definitely* had the looks to get away with it.
ôO-o-o-okay. S-so, youà uhà can touch ghosts. Great. But that helps us find the wizard weÆre looking forà how, exactly?ö
He crossed his arms over his chest, red eyes closing in thought.
ôHmmà an excellent question. Brains and beauty, eh? Excellent.ö
His closed eyes snapped open, and she felt like a mouse in front of a viper û transfixed by a predator who was sending signals on a wavelength she couldnÆt hope to comprehend. Blushing on top of her blush, Willow looked away.
Smirking, Gilgamesh expended some mana to return to his physical form.
Another scream reached his ears, and old, chivalrous instincts pushed the King of Heroes from the house out to the front yard. A stunning young thing dressed as a cat was running from a large, lupine creature that obviously wanted to tear a chunk from her hide.
æThat wonÆt do at all. I canÆt have such an exquisite treasure being damaged by some ravenous mongrel.Æ
Foregoing to summon a weapon from his stock, the ancient warrior simply grabbed the beastÆs shaggy arms as it passed, kicked its legs out of place and then secured a foot between its shoulders, pulling its arms back. The incredible pressure this caused across the torso of the animal-man made it stop and think.
Using his physical connection to the transmogrified monster, Gilgamesh siphoned off the mana that was powering the trasformation, taking it for himself.
ôYou have the gratitude of the King, mongrel. Now begone from my presence, back to the refuse pit you call home.ö
The bruised human kneeling at his feet scrambled away more by instinct than design, obeying the charisma of GilgameshÆs command without protest.
Looking at the woman, Gilgamesh smiled.
ôHeh. Well met, cat girl. Follow me û there is safety under my banner, for those I deem worthy.ö
A withering glare was sent his way.
ôWhatever, loser. Like IÆd wear your banner, anyway. ItÆd be totally tacky and horrible, just your collection of shirts.ö
Lowering himself to his haunches, the monarch of Uruk stared measuringly at her.
ôHa ha ha. You are spirited. Good. Very good. The more spirited the prey, the more I enjoy the hunt.ö
Standing, his cape swirling around him majestically, he smirked in a way that infuriated Cordelia Chase û even as it sent shivers down her spine. *This* was Xander Harris?
ôI will indulge you, woman. See how long you can resist the desire that burns in your belly. See how long you can resist Gilgamesh, King of all he surveys.ö
Turning, he walked away, dismissing her so easily that it was like a slap in the face. Cordelia watched him go, unsure of whether to throw herself at his vulnerable back, or throw herself at his feet.
æWhat the heck just happened? What the _is_ he?Æ
No way was that Xander Harris. No way in hell!
-
Returning to his little noble and the Willow girl, Gilgamesh congratulated himself on a job well done û that cat girl (and he reminded absently himself to get her name, at some point) was quite the catch. But in order to enjoy it, he would have to free himself from the spectre of the summoner floating around his head.
ôWhere might he be, I wonder?ö
He stretched out with his senses, but the mana of this Magi was spread all over the town, cast wide like a fishermanÆs nets û and catching all manner of fish in his trap. The origin of the spell was impossible to single out, even for a legend like Gilgamesh.
Deciding to change his approach, the Servant sat down and began drumming his fingers on the nearby table.
ôHm. There must be some form of magical presence in this place, Willow. Some mentor to young magicians, some guide.ö
Frowning in thought, his disembodied companion concentrated on finding a person that fit the bill.
ôUmmà about the only person I can think of who knows about magic would be Giles û heÆs usually the person who finds us the answers we need.ö
The King stood, a decisive action that was mirrored by his next declaration.
ôThen go. My own skills tell me nothing of this magiÆs presence û his power is stretched too far for me to sense his true presence. Your master Giles may know better how to find one of his own.ö
Willow stood, looking uncertainly between Xander and Buffy, trying to decide if she really could leave them. At that moment, Cordelia Chase burst into the house, her tight catgirl outfit rumpled and torn.
ôCould you have, like, waited any longer to beat up Jojo the Dog-faced boy? My deposit will totally be lost, now. I know you got your ugly little costumes at that new bargain basement place, but Party Town are _much_ less forgiving.ö
Rolling her eyes, Willow turned and ran through the wall û wherever Cordelia was, the redhead didnÆt _want_ to be.
-
Gilgamesh sighed imperiously, giving the catgirl a sliver of attention.
ôDid you want something, woman, or were you merely hungry for a sight of Divinity?ö
Huffing, she crossed her arms across an expansive chest.
ôLike, whatever. I _was_ gonna tell you about the horde of zombies coming this way, but now I wonÆt even bother.ö
Standing quickly, the Servant strode swiftly to the front window and pushed the drapes aside. Narrowed brown eyes looked out on a shambling mess of monsters, from pint-sized goblins to massive wolf-men.
ôAh-hah! A siege û havenÆt had one of those in centuries.ö
At this rate, heÆd need to open the Gate of Babylon. And doing that indoors was most inadvisable û parts of the house would be atomized by the forces involved. If he could lead them away, then he would be free to employ whatever means he chose to defeat them.
ôHm. How to lure them away, thoughàö
Turning away from the window, he crossed his arms and traced his chin in thought. Six wide steps took him to the sofa, and there he stopped. Looking down at the sleeping form of the Buffy girl, his dark eyes grew with a devious light.
Looking over his shoulder, he spoke an order to the spirited brunette.
ôIÆll take her and run û once they give chase, you get out of here and back to wherever is safe for you. Or wait for Willow to return, if you wish. It is of little account.ö
Hoisting Buffy on one shoulder, he wasted no time in walking to the door and throwing it open with one hand. Then, taking a deep breath, he shouted a challenge to the assembled pack of monsters.
ôYou squirming, pathetic brood of disease-ridden worms. Come, let us play a game of hart and hunter û to see if mongrels can catch such prey as me!ö
An angry murmur went up from them, even as they began to swarm towards him. Turning to the side, Gilgamesh secured his grip on the woman and released a focused burst of mana, surrounding himself in a golden glow as he leapt forward. After a quick burst of acceleration, he allowed his power to fade and ran at a more leisurely pace.
æNo point in acting as bait if I outrun my soon-to-be-victims, now is there?Æ
-
William the Bloody was a keen proponent of the old adage æknow your enemyÆ. He had been quite comfortable to watch the Slayer and see how she fought, before taking her on for the first time. And, if not for a bloody loony old bitch with a fire-axe, heÆd have bagged his third Slayer in a century.
However, Spike was also a firm believer in making full use of unexpected opportunities. So when he saw the brown-haired happy meal running through the streets with an unconscious Slayer on his shoulder, the opportunistic Vampire smiled and joined the chase.
-
It took Gilgamesh only five minutes to reach a suitably wide area of the town, even with the soft weight of a woman on his shoulders. When he judged the battleground to be suitable, he stopped, gently swung the woman in the voluminous dress from his shoulders to the ground, and turned to face his pursuers.
ôFar enough, mongrels. Let the games begin.ö
There was no response from his pursuers û they seemed winded from the chase, able only to growl and snap their jaws at him.
æNot the most articulate of worms, these. Still, theyÆll do.Æ
It had been a long, long time since he had been attacked by a mass of seething rabble. And he lacked the mana necessary to destroy them all with Enuma Elish, which left the more time-consuming course of action û destroying them individually.
æFeh. A KingÆs work is never done, it seems.Æ
Posing dramatically, a slight shift of his shoulders sent his cape swirling around him. Then Gilgamesh, the stage set, spoke three words of immeasurable power.
ôGate of Babylon.ö
The world around them shook as a single red flare shot up into the sky behind him. Then, twisting reality as though it were childÆs play, the royal treasury of Gilgamesh, King of Uruk, opened in a display of crimson light. Floating suspended within the vault, a thousand weapons hung on invisible threads.
ôWatch, worms. Watch and feel the approach of an unstoppable power that mongrels such as you could never hope to match! A-ha, aha ha ha ha ha ha, hah hah hah ha, a-ha haa!ö
The horde couldnÆt help but spend a second staring, as the man in golden armour just stood there and laughed, as if he knew a hilarious joke that they were the butt of.
Then, a second or two after that had sunk in, they started to get angry. Very angry. Livid. Incandescent with rage, even.
The tidal wave of inhuman beings instantly resumed the charge to decide who would have the honour of removing this infuriating little human from his tin shell, and then cave his skull in. The victor would probably get to eat his brain, too.
Gilgamesh himself was caught in an unusual bout of indecision.
æHmmà It seems that some of these little demons may well be my subjects, caught up in the magic of the craven maggot who summoned me.Æ
It would not do to waste mana destroying his own subjects, only to be left with too little for the dispensing of divine wrath upon that same maggot.
ôRejoice, crawling dung beetles. I, the mighty King of Heroes, have decided not to grant you oblivion.ö
A second after his declaration, said King of Heroes cast out a web of mana and used it to connect with every single member of the horde. Then, wasting no time, he drained the strange new magic that had been inscribed over their own circuits, and drew it to himself.
All of ten seconds after his first sentence, no less than ninety young human children in various costumes and outfits lay unconcscious across the length and breadth of the street. Gilgamesh, his own mana fully replenished, stood over them, looking for all the world like a King receiving the veneration he was due. In fact, only one other being in the whole street remained concscious.
As GilgameshÆs expression shifted like quicksilver, William the Bloody hefted a child by the back of his robe and hurled him bodily at the ancient monarch.
Gilgamesh, annoyed at having his effort to save himself a little work thwarted, caught the child easily and tossed him onto a nearby lawn in an uncaringly casual manner. What he failed to notice, in his abundant arrogance, was the fist aiming to hammer into his face.
Indeed, the King had barely realized that something was approaching him at high speed, when the inhuman blow landed and snapped his head to the side. One golden hand came up to touch his face in disbelief. As the gauntlet came away stained with beads of crimson, that disbelief quickly transformed itself into anger.
ôWhat repulsive mongrel *dares* to strike my face?ö
Spike, having fully expected his first hit to end the conflict entirely û incidentally smashing the boyÆs face in like an over-ripe melon, and sending his body hurtling into the night û was caught flat-footed.
ôSoddinÆ hell û what the fuck is your face made of, you mad bastard?ö
ôInsolent, worthless refuse. I will make you cry tears of blood before your petty life is ended this night.ö
With a click of his fingers, Gilgamesh began to make his words a reality. There was an impression of something moving between them at tremendous speed û which was the only warning Spike had of the spear that materialized from within the Gate and impaled him.
ôEraaagh! Christ on a bike, whereÆd that come from?ö
Gilgamesh crossed his arms, staring imperiously at his new toy. Three blades faded into existence, one above his head and one by each of his shoulders. Wavering slightly on a vertical axis, they floated as if held in an invisible grip. For all intents and purposes, they were. Spike, impaled on a spear, floated helpless in similar fashion.
ôTo think that a thing as wretched as you, would dare to touch my glorious face.ö
The God-King stretched out one golden arm, and clenched his fist. His blades flashed forward, crackling with mana and ill intent. Spike could do nothing but close his eyes and pray to some dark power for mercy, even as the swords pierced him through.
Coughing up blood from pierced lungs, the Vampire wheezed helplessly. Dark blood oozed slowly from the wounds in his torso, dripping from his duster and the razor sharp Noble Phantasms that protruded from his dead flesh.
Peering closely, Gilgamesh looked at the slow flow of blood quizzically.
ôYou bleed oddly, mongrel. What ails you?ö
Spike lowered his head to cough up some blood û when he lifted himself again, his visage had shifted to the predatory, bony visage of a vampireÆs true face.
Laughing giddily, the King clapped his hands in delight.
ôAha ha ha ha! A Vampire - how wonderful. I havenÆt played with one of your kind in an age. Why, Enkidu used to rip you blood-drinking swine apart with his bare hands!ö
Gilgamesh withdrew a scythe from the depths of his vault, and walked forward towards his victim.
ôCutting off that ugly head of yours will end this little amusement, wonÆt it maggot?ö
Spike drew his head back and spat a mouthful of blood at the golden form. Gilgamesh stopped moving, content to watch the thick red liquid fall well short of his position.
ôMeaningless defiance, mongrel û itÆs not like you can even delay the inevitable, now is it?ö
Hefting the scythe, he snapped it up and around, using its length to his advantage. It was obvious he meant to decapitate his victim without taking a single step closer to him.
It was something of a mixed blessing for Spike, then, that the spell was ended prematurely at exactly that moment. On one hand, he managed to survive the night with his head still attached to his shoulders. On the other, GilgameshÆs mana was no longer sustaining the Gate of Babylon, meaning the armoury was closed û and its contents returned therein. So, SpikeÆs defenestrated body fell from four feet up in the air, onto the unforgiving concrete beneath him.
The Vampire couldnÆt even scream û all of the air in his lungs left in one explosive rush as soon as he hit the ground. Again, in a stroke of good fortune, Gilgamesh was in no position to take advantage of the opening û the imprint of him that had been in control of Xander Harris was now gone, and only the teenager remained.
ôOh, shit. That was intense. Damn, what a rush!ö
Looking around himself at the carnage his body had caused, he felt a little shiver of excitement at the raw power of the King of Heroes.
ôGahà Xander? Izzat you?ö
Who was tha-
ôBuffy? Are you OK?ö
She pulled off her brown wig, revealing the tightly bound blonde hair beneath it. Then she massaged her forehead with one hand.
ôYeah, just having an interesting night. First there was this evil car, and the this hot Knight, and th-àö
She looked up at him, taking in the long crimson cloak, the golden armour and the slightly perverted grin on his face.
ôAnd youÆre never gonna let me forget the fact that I just called you hot, are you?ö
He added a pair of waggling eyebrows to his pervy grin.
ôNot if I live to be a hundred, Buffster.ö
They shared a moment of amusement, before Xander walked over to her and offered his hand. Choosing not to stand on feminism, she took and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
ôThank-you, milord Xandermesh.ö
He winced, feeling the word grate against his ears.
ôYuck. Never say that word again, Buffy û it sounds _horrible_.ö
She stumbled over her dress, and he caught her with a hand around her waist. Supporting her weight easily û which of itself sent alarm bells ringing û he allowed her to steady herself before stepping away.
ôCÆmon, Buff. LetÆs go home.ö
As they passed Spike, Xander gave the Vampire a kick for good measure. The bleached blonde moaned slightly, but made no movement otherwise. Released from the spell, most of the once-again-human humans were beginning to stir, so neither Buffy nor Xander had any misgivings about letting them find their own way home.
ôDo you have a stake handy, Buffy?ö
ôNo. It was supposed to be a quiet night, tonight.ö
ôDamn it, me neither. I guess Spike gets to live a bit longer. That sucks.ö
Buffy looked down at the bleeding corpse, feeling slightly revolted at the state of him.
ôYeah. Something tells me he wonÆt be a problem for a while. What happened?ö
Xander almost bit his own tongue off in his effort to avoid blurting out a æme, I did it!Æ
ôUhà if IÆm not totally losing it, I think I did. Or, at least, Gilgamesh did.ö
Buffy gave him a sidelong glance, but what she was thinking he couldnÆt tell.
ôWell I guess heÆs a legend for a reason, eh Xander?ö
ôYeah, Buff. I guess he really is.ö
Thankful that heÆd sidestepped the issue of Noble Phantasms and related pieces of forbidden knowledge, Xander sighed deeply.
Perhaps, once heÆd gotten all of that straight in his own mind, heÆd tell her, Wills and Giles about it. But not before. Not if it was likely to get them asking questions about the Holy Grail Wars, because that would get his friends very dead, in short order.
The teenagers were both running on the edge of exhaustion, so they split up on the edge of the main drag û Buffy went east and Xander turned west, both of them heading for home. TheyÆd put the pieces together in the morning, with Giles and Willow.
Neither of them doubted that the people of Sunnydle would forget this had ever happened, and get themselves home to bed. HalloweenÆs tradition as a quiet night for the Supernatural would stop anything untoward happening û especially since the only demons stupid enough to go against said tradition were dead or dying on the ground.
Right now, all either of them wanted to do, was sleep. Hopefully for a week.
-
The next morning shed new light on the situatuion. When Xander Harris awoke, it was to the bright dawn of a new morning û and the heavy weight of Gilgamesh pressing against his consciousness.
æWhy the heck was _I_ dreaming _his_ dreams?Æ
They had started off easy enough to identify û running through the lands of Babylon, Enkidu at his side, adventure ahead of every step. He had even caught a glimpse of Ishtar, at one point. Freaking hot, she was û Gilgamesh must have had balls of steel to turn her down.
But the dreams had taken a surreal turn, with him ending up in Japan as a Heroic Spirit, fighting in the Fourth Holy Grail War. After the previous night, Xander could identify that easily enough û the knowledge Gilgamesh had possessed was his now. But knowing something existed, and then seeing it happen in the first person were two very different things.
HeÆd seen Gilgamesh unleash the full power of the Gate of Babylon on unsuspecting opponents, and the destruction it had wreaked was truly impressive. Part of him wanted that kind of power û and part of him was quite convinced that it was his right. The incomparable ego of the King of Heroes was, it seemed, contagious.
æItÆs funny û I just canÆt seem to bring myself to care. I was sharing my head with the most charismatic ruler in history, and IÆll be damned if he hasnÆt rubbed off on me.Æ
Well, heÆd always wished he could have a little more confidence. This was overkill, but it suited him perfectly. The maggots at Sunnydale High School wouldnÆt know what they were dealing with.
Standing, he selected some suitably impressive clothing from his small stock of formal attire, and went off to shower. Today, he would grace the halls of learning with his august presence. Not for anything as mundane as learning û he knew all he needed from the God-King.
Making a mental note, he decided to put GilgameshÆs Golden Rule to the test û just how long would it take to stumble onto the resources necessary for future luxury?
-
Half an hour later, dressed in black slacks and a dark red shirt, Xander was starting at his reflection intently.
ôCasually formal, with just the right colours for the darker kind of white guy. Butàö
He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning in though in a nigh perfect imitation of Gilgamesh.
ôSomething is missing. The outfit isnÆt quite finished.ö
What else could he add? This was important û the first impression he gave would set the tone for all subsequent meetings; this was important û he had to show the rest of the maggots in the High School food chain that he was not the same man. The Scooby Gang, likewise, had to be shown in a way that was obvious, that the status quo had been rendered null and void.
As soon as he looked at himself in the mirror again, he knew _exactly_ what was missing.
And he knew where to _find_ it.
Turning away from the mirror, he reached out his hand and grasped something in the air. Twisting his hand at the wrist, he began to pull, as if opening a door that only he could see. With a flash of red light that snuck under the doorjamb and through the curtains onto the street below, the Gate of Babylon became ajar.
Smiling arrogantly at his handiwork, Xander nodded in satisfaction
æGood. Very good. It may be useless for combat, but the drain on my magical energy is small, and this allows me to access the different parts of the vault. Excellent work.Æ
Walking forward, he stepped into the Gate and lost himself in the treasure trove of ancient wonders. Just as the Gate of Babylon closed the chink in its armour, mad laughter echoed outward from the vault.
ôA-ha, ha ha ha, hah hah hah haa, haa h-ö
-
School beckoned Xander Harris with a whole new world of amusing possibilities. And, like the God-King before him, he was not one to ignore the performance of mongrels barking at each other for his benefit.
Walking jauntily towards Sunnydale High School, he shifted his shoulders, trying to get the jacket he had retrieved from the Gate of Babylon to sit right. It had been one of GilgameshÆs favourites, from Fuyuki some nine years hence, bought during the period of time the Archer-class Servant had walked among humans as a human. Given that the Gate of Babylon existed in a dimension of its own, it was not part of the space/time continuum û much like the Throne of Heroes itself, it was always full of weapons and other such treasures and always available to the one who possessed the Key.
Such as Gilgamesh û and now Xander Harris.
Thus, clothing that Gilgamesh had stored for his own use in ten years time, was now available for Xander to wear. And, in his opinion, the black jacket with white stripes down the arm and across the chest, was exceedingly stylish.
The inventory of magical artifacts inside the treasury was quite intriguing, and heÆd spent some time looking at them in depth. Undoubtedly the most useful was an elixir distilled from the tears of twelve virgins, which would begin to increase the rate at which he could recharge his mana, and gradually increase the amount of mana he possessed.
HeÆd drunk a vial of the stuff, awful as it had been, in order to begin preparing himself for using the Gate of Babylon. Unfortunately, to build up large enough magical reserves to open the Gate in combat and not instantly die from the power drain, would take years. As it was, he could call on one or two weapons from within his royal treasury and use them as melee weapons, or literally shoot them like arrows. And even then, that would burn him out quickly û he just didnÆt have the same magical reserves as a magical summoning of Gilgamesh could boast.
æFeh. Right. Even the weakest of Servants has ten times the power of any human being. The more powerful ones regularly hit forty or fifty times the strength or speed of a human, when they really get going.Æ
During the Grail War, Gilgamesh had boasted the strength of forty men, and the agility and endurance of thirty. Xander, despite the headstart of living on the Hellmouth and the additional boost of having played host to Gilgamesh, could only match the magical reserves of two other guys put together. Maybe three, on a good day, with the elixir helping him. Every other parameter for judging his power û strength, endurance, agility - were well within human norms.
Shaking his head, Xander put those thoughts out of his head û he had no desire and no reason to dwell on his own weakness. If he played it smart, he could use Noble Phantasms to even the gap in strength between himself and everything else on the Hellmouth.
And perhaps the other trinkets heÆd found in the vault would offer assistance in other ways, too. That would require more thought, thorough examination, and planning. As it was, he would go to school and enjoy inverting the natural pecking order, by being better than the maggots there at everything they cherished. Merely because it amused him to do so.
HeÆd gotten to the halfway point between his home and Sunnydale High, when he found he just couldnÆt forbear the ill-fitting jacket any longer. It was too short in the arms and too narrow across his shoulders to have any chance of fitting. With a click of his fingers, he sent it back to the vault whence it had come from.
Standing still for a moment, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply.
ôOKà where would I get a proper jacket that fits me, at this time in the morning, for free?ö
He could always steal it from a Vampire. Unfortunately, he didnÆt know where any dead guys were living, at the minute û especially not any of them who were his size.
æWait. There is one who fits the bill.Æ
The bastardÆs house was on the way to school, too, from this direction. Perfect!
-
*Knock-knock-knock.*
Angel had just been preparing himself for bed when the door had been knocked on impatiently. Putting down his mug of warm, thick pigÆs blood, the Vampire went to answer û even as he tried to remember who knew _where the hell he lived_!
*Knock-knock-knock!*
Unbolting the door, he left the chain tapering across the door frame, allowing him to open the door only a fraction and close it quickly if he needed to. The face on the other side of the door, however, shocked him into leaving the door open.
ôOpen the door, mongrel.ö
ôàXander?ö
ôObviously. Now opened the damned door. We have much to discuss.ö
Almost against his better judgment, Angel did as he was bidden.
ôWhat do you want?ö
ôRiches, more mana, my own harem. But most of all, I want a jacket that will fit me. YouÆll supply me with one.ö
Amused at the boyÆs new arrogance, Angel crossed his arms and smiled, allowing no small measure of mockery into his expression.
ôWhy would I do that?ö
ôItÆs quite simple, really û if you give me one of your many, many varieties of coat, IÆll tell you exactly what happened last night.ö
Picking up his mug, Angel took a sip of warm blood. It didnÆt even make the boy flinch.
ôAnd if I donÆt?ö
Xander shrugged, as if he truly didnÆt give a damn one way or the other.
ôIÆll kill you in a way that will never be traced back to me, and then IÆll take whatever I please as spoils of war.ö
Laughing out loud, Angel shook his head.
ôXander, IÆm afraid you have this all wrong. YouÆre the only one who knows where I live. If you disappear, theyÆll never know you came to see me. TheyÆll never even suspect that you came to see me û youÆve already given me a perfect alibi, by hating me so much. Buffy wouldnÆt even expect me to give a damn.ö
Draining his pint of blood, Angel shifted into his vampiric face and gave a sharkÆs grin.
ôI could kill you right now and never have a single finger pointed at me.ö
Standing in the small room of AngelÆs apartment, the two men stared at each other for an interminable moment. Eventually, Angel snorted and shifted himself.
ôWhat happened last night?ö
Xander waved a hand, as if pushing the question aside.
ôCoat first, mongrel. Stories are for obedient peons only.ö
Perhaps deciding that information was a valuable enough trade, the Vampire moved to a side-room and began nosing around, out of XanderÆs sight. The sound of hangars sliding up and down a cupboard rack floated out to the teenÆs ears.
When Angel returned a minute later, he had with him a leather jacket, with one of those typically non-functional belts stitched around the back of it. Throwing it underarm to his aggravating, arrogant informant, the older man glowered.
ôMy part of the bargain is done. Speak, now.ö
Sliding the jacket over his shoulders û after a none-too-subtle once-over for bloodstains and grave-dirt û Xander spoke up.
ôWe turned into our costumes. I got Buffy and Willow back to the Summers house safely, then had to run when an army of kids transformed into monsters. Then I tortured Spike for a while, with a couple of swords that just happened to be part of my costume. No big.ö
As if to illustrate his last statement, Xander shrugged.
Angel sighed, scratching his chin slightly.
ôRight. And here I thought youÆd put the moves on my girlfriend.ö
Walking to the door, Xander smirked and readied his parting shot.
ôSuch a treasure deserves the touch of a worthy King, Angel. You are certainly not of good enough breeding to qualify. But IÆll wait until she comes to me herself û just so you finally know whom the better man is.ö
He walked out, closing the door behind him with a click.
Angel stood staring at the closed door, disbelieving what heÆd just heard. Not so much the fact that Xander had insulted him, which was in itself quite unremarkable. No, what pole-axed Angel was the fact that it had been delivered with such eloquence û hardly the hallmark of a typical Californian teenager - and definitely not normal for Xander.
-
Whistling a jaunty tune, Xander headed for school, the soft weight of the leather jacket on his shoulders and the satisfaction of having slapped Angel with a metaphorical gauntlet both pleasant feelings, in different ways. Especially since the cur had presumed to threaten him.
æKill me? _Him_? Not while a single Noble Phantasm remained in the Gate of Babylon, fool.Æ
Maniacal laughter bubbled up from his chest, echoing off of the houses around him even as he walked away.
This town. These people. They were his, now. They were the spoils of the new King, and he would rule them as was his right.
And heÆd start with the three girls from the night before. That was his decision û they were all exquisite, each worthy of the best û and he was the best. In time, they would see that. And they would be his.
~
Fin.
Author: Trevelyan1983
The YAHF Costume thread. Griever. Me. Anachronisms. This is the result of that discussion.
A TFF exclusive, folks, for several reasons û it was spawned here, the anti-anime thing at the XanderZone is pissing me off, and I suspect that reviews and valid commentary will be a bit more forthcoming here. Plus, Gilgamesh is a dirty-minded, horny son of a bitch. We understand him û we are, after all, TFF. ^_^
Disclaimer: I donÆt own BtVS, or anything else here. Gilgamesh is pretty much public property, but this characterization of him and his abilities originated from the minds at TYPE-MOON.
There is room for a sequel û I will not, however, promise anything. Halloween based fiction is overdone, for one thing. For another, Real Life is about to intrude on my writing time. So enjoy it, and let me know what you think.
~
Sighing loudly, Alexander Harris threw down his pen in disgust.
ôOK, IÆm done. I canÆt write this stuff anymore.ö
On the other side of the library table, Buffy looked up and smiled slightly, putting down her pencil atop her own copy of their history project.
ôCuneiform too much for ya, Xand?ö
Rubbing his face, the young man made a negative noise in the back of his throat.
ôNo, Buff. Cuneiform are actually kinda fun û especially when you consider the boring junk Giles usually has us reading. Butà my brain is refusing to co-operate with any more work.ö
The background scratch of WillowÆs favourite HB pencil stopped at that point.
ôXander, come on! Do you have any idea how many extra marks we could get for looking at the original source?ö
Standing and stretching, Xander groaned as his back and shoulders popped.
ôNo clue, Wills. How many?ö
Willow gaped at him for a second, obviously not expecting such a redirection.
ôUhà wellà me neither! But itÆs sure to be a whole heap!ö
Shrugging, Xander just smiled at his best friend.
ôWell, I am in need of junk food. IÆm gonna go pick up some donuts. While IÆm away, you can think of the grammatical connotations of using æa whole heapÆ in reference to an academic points system. Buh-bye!ö
He left the two young women staring in shock at his retreating back.
ôB-Buffy?ö
ôYeah?ö
ôDid I just get zinged by Xanderà with grammar?ö
ôOh yeah. IÆd say so.ö
ôHuh. ThatÆs new.ö
-
Walking towards the donut shop, Xander whistled a jaunty tune and took in the sights, breathing the fresh air that was so foreign to the library.
æOK, so two jelly-filled, two with sprinkles and two with glaze. ThatÆs the usual order.Æ
HeÆd done this so often that he was surprised he didnÆt sleepwalk to the donut shop.
æMmmà donuts.Æ
Not that Giles deserved any, for getting Willow all caught up in the original text of The Epic of Gilgamesh. Sheesh.
æMaybe IÆll just eat those jelly donuts myself. ThatÆd teach him. Stupid book guy.Æ
So consumed by the thought of vengeance and sugary goodness was he, the teen failed to notice the new costume store that was setting up in advance of the upcoming Halloween. In fact, it wasnÆt until he was returning, box of donuts in hand, that he noticed the modest little place.
ôEthanÆs HalloweÆen Shoppe?ö
Frowning in thought, Xander stared at the store front.
ôWhatÆs with the extra letters?ö
More importantly, Xander realized, he had no idea what to dress up as.
ôIÆll be coming back for a closer look, I think. Maybe this dude will do a Vader costume or something.ö
Turning to walk away, he wondered idly if his box of donuts would score him æextra pointsÆ with the Buffster. Then again, ma-
æWhoah. Time out, Xander. YouÆre having a moment of genius.Æ
The Epic of Gilgamesh. Donuts. Halloween.
Gilgamesh. Halloween. Costume Shop.
Gilgamesh. Costume.
ôOhà Myà God. ThatÆs perfect!ö
He ran back to the High School, donuts cradled protectively. The sooner he got the project finished, the faster he could get himself a costume. ItÆd take all of his allowance, and possibly some of his road trip fund, but damn, itÆd be worth it!
-
The next day, Xander skipped out of a study period and went back to EthanÆs HalloweÆen Shoppe. Walking around the various racks of clothing and costume displays, he felt like a bargain hunter in a second hand store, looking for that elusive purchase.
In some ways, he was.
ôYou seem to be looking for something in particular, young man. May I help you?ö
ôAaah! DonÆt _do_ that!ö
ôTerribly sorry, young sir. I thought youÆd heard me walk over.ö
ôYeah, well, no harm done. ItÆs only a couple of years off my life.ö
Taking one last look around, just to make sure that there were no suits of armor in embarrassingly obvious places, Xander faced the older man.
ôOK, yeah, IÆm looking for something specific. Do you have anything like a suit of armor?ö
Ethan paused in thought, a thoughtful look narrowing his features.
ôWe have some armoured costumes, yes. Do you mean traditional armour or science-fictional stuff?ö
The young customer gave a rather vicious smirk.
ôThe original armour, man. I want a costume that would fit Gilgamesh, the God-King.ö
-
EthanÆs wide eyes surveyed the young American with the utmost surprise.
æOh my. I thinkà this could be something very, very special.Æ
ôYoung manà quite frankly, you surprise me. I was expecting another Stormtrooper, or a Batman, or some such dross. Thisà even I hadnÆt considered this as a possibility.ö
Tapping his chin, the Englishman began to inspect his inventory mentally.
ôYesà with a little innovation, we can cannibalize one or two items from other costumes and put together something for a Gilgamesh costume.ö
The ceremony had been performed on all of the clothes in his shop. Mixing and matching was acceptable, provided that the boyÆs intention to dress as Gilgamesh was strong enough to guide the spell. But if notà it would be disastrous.
Ethan waved him along, talking even as he led the boy back to the storage area.
ôWhere on earth did you hear of Gilgamesh, though?ö
ôWe were looking at The Epic of Gilgamesh for History class, and my friend suggested that we look at the original cuneiform.ö
æYes, the boy might just have what it takes.Æ
ôMy, that sounds like an impressive work ethic. I certainly wouldnÆt have bothered to do that when I was a teenager.ö
He could practically feel the unspoken æ_you_ were a teenager?Æ from behind him, but the boy held it in.
ôSo, what was so special about Gilgamesh, then, lad?ö
ôHe kicked a fertility goddess to the curb, man. ThatÆs just cool.ö
Had he been alone, Ethan would have rubbed his hands together and cackled with malicious glee. As it was, he nodded and made sagacious noises.
ôMm-hm, Mm-hm. It sounds like you were quite taken with him, my boy.ö
ôI guess so. He is pretty cool, and he has all sorts of neat adventures, too.ö
Ethan couldnÆt suppress an unkind grin.
æHeÆs about to have one more, boy. Gilgamesh! Bloody Hell!Æ
They arrived at the store-room, and Ethan unlocked the door.
ôWell, IÆll get some things from in here for the costume û do me a favour and keep your eyes peeled, will you? I donÆt want some little bugger making off with a costume.ö
Not that Ethan Rayne gave a damn about his overheads, or his turnover. No, he was unconcerned about either û what he was concerned about, was keeping a low profile and not drawing attention to his little piece of magical theatre secret until after it was a fait accompli.
And then escaping with his hide intact after Ripper got hold of him, of course. CouldnÆt forget that bit.
-
Five days later, the God-King stood in the doorway of Revello Drive, playing the part of a very patient King û with his tongue firmly in cheek.
ôLady Joyce, didnÆt you ever teach your daughter how to bring pleasure to the king?ö
Chuckling throatily, Joyce bowed her head with an obvious dose of sarcasm.
ôI beg my liegeÆs forebearance. My daughter is stubborn and hard-headed, so she wished to personally prepare herself for a night with your highness.ö
He crossed his arms over his plated chest, golden gauntlets rubbing against golden breastplate.
ôAcceptable, I suppose û serving the God-King is a serious matter.ö
Joyce winked suggestively at him.
ôIf my liege is restless, perhaps this old maid could be of service to him?ö
Xander blushed, before pretending to cough û giving him a way of covering his warm face. Dropping out of his character in shock, he pouted.
ôHey, no fair! ThatÆs hitting below the belt, Mrs. Summers.ö
Joyce tossed her hair and smiled innocently.
ôSo you donÆt want to test that batch of cookies I made up earlier, Xander?ö
Sniffing the air like Lassie, Xander was a picture of armor-plated normalcy.
ôLetÆs not be hasty, Mrs. S. The King needs his sustenance, after all.ö
Buffy and Willow walked down the staircase a moment later only to find their captive audience had somehow escaped them. Given that Willow had chickened out and gone for the Ghost outfit, Buffy wasnÆt going to complain too loudly.
-
æBy IshtarÆs teatsà where am I summoned to now?Æ
Gilgamesh rose from his undignified position on the ground and dusted his long crimson cape off. Then, straightening his breastplate and gauntlets, he looked at the surroundings.
ôHmmà this looks like America. Howà uninspired. I was hoping for somewhere a touch more exciting.ö
Then again, there was no way for him to control where and when he was summoned to. That was between his summoner and the Throne of Heroes.
æWhat kind of feeble-minded fool performs a summoning for a Servant of my caliberà and then disappears?Æ
And why had he appeared in the middle of the street, where any passing peon could behold him? Did no-one take the rules of secrecy seriously anymore?
It was enough to make the King of Heroes feel decidedly homicidal.
Deciding on a direction, he strode off imperiously.
æAfter all, if the kind soul who summoned me saw fit to supply me power and form, without any commandsà I shall just have to amuse myself for a time.Æ
A shrill voice shrieked from behind him.
ôXander!ö
Spinning in place, he prepared to lambast the shrew who dared make such a horrendous racket in his august presence. Then he swallowed his rage and allowed a slow smile to spread across his face. She wasà exotic. Red hair that fell to her shoulders, bright green eyes that sparkled with intelligence, a slender form barely covered by the tight garments that clung to her body.
æOh my. I simply must add you to my collection, little one.Æ
ôNo, milady û I am not he. Allow me to introduce myself û I am Gilgamesh, King of Uruk.ö
She stared at him, evidently enraptured by his majestic form.
ôUhà right. Well, itÆs an honor to meet you, your majesty. Willow Rosenburg, at your service.ö
He waved her statement away.
ôOf course you are. Now, I donÆt suppose you summoned me here, did you?ö
That would be quite acceptable û better this pretty thing than some mongrel magi with ideas above his station. He could even forgive the haphazard summoning in this particular case.
æAh, the magnanimity of a King. I am just, indeed.Æ
ôNo, my lord. IÆve been affected by some kind of magic, and canÆtà uhà touch anything. At all.ö
Gilgamesh took a closer look at her, and saw something that he had missed before û a flickering layer of magic overlaid on her form, giving her shape and cohesion, but which was not her body.
æAn intangible concubine just wonÆt do. Not at all. I shall have to rectify this little problem.Æ
ôWell then, my lady. Shall we find the mongrel who summoned me and who took your body from you, and put him to the sword?ö
She was stricken dumb for a moment, and Gilgamesh surmised that a person such as he had never stooped so low as to assist her before. Turning away, he smirked roguishly.
ôUmm... Yeahà that soundsà uhà g-good.ö
Opening up his senses, he was astounded at the amount of mana that surrounded this little American village. It was saturated in an unpleasant miasma, soaking everything within a ten mile radius of the town center.
æDrawing mana from this place would be a very bad idea û thereÆs not enough darkness for it to corrupt a personality, an ego as powerful as I. Not immediately û but given time even I would be at risk.Æ
Until he found a more reliable source of power, heÆd have to be sparing with his use of Noble Phantasms.
æWhen I find the worm who dared bring me to this placeà I will make his suffer such untold agonies, even Tiamat will shed a tear for the fool.Æ
His face, when he looked back, showed none of his unpleasant thoughts.
ôI wonder, would you serve as my guide, Willow? I am not familiar with this place.ö
She opened her mouth to answer him, but was interrupted instead by a scream of terror.
Gilgamesh turned all the way around and burst into a sprint, as Willow recognized the voice.
ôAh! ThatÆs Buffy!ö
Idly wondering what kind of a name that was for any woman, the God-King reached out for a weapon from the multitude that rested within his eternal treasury. Saving WillowÆs friend might make her more malleable, and her friend would beà grateful. Such gratitude might yet prove valuable, if they had knowledge of the world around them and the people of the town.
It was also to his benefit, judging by how many powerful magical presences were echoing across his awareness. Exposure to the background power had evidently caused them all to develop some meager magical talent, and some few major ones as well.
Gilgamesh could, perhaps, make use of that. If necessary, heÆd replenish his mana in an unsightly way. But there were far more enjoyable ways of doing it, if female magi were willing.
And they often were, as it happened, all too willing. The charisma of a demi-God was hard to resist.
-
Lady Elisabeth Summers was on the verge of panic û little demons has begun to swarm her soon after she was molested by the large monster on wheels.
æI wonder, might these be Leprechauns? They are certainly _savage_ enough to be Irish. Or perhaps Scottish. Yes, that seems likely.Æ
She flailed wildly, trying to dislodge the little beasts who were pawing at her.
ôDamn you, unhand me!ö
It was no good û for creatures of such small size, they were devilishly strong. It had to be some form of witchcraft, some malign force at work.
æIf so, what has that to do with me? God in Heaven, please, donÆt let them do this!Æ
She struggled again, and again she was ineffectual. Panting, she allowed her feeble struggling to pause. Perhaps, if she could make the monster think she was finished, a frantic burst of movement might free her.
When she stopped moving, stopped fighting, the sensation of just how disgusting the ghastly monsters were truly sank in, and she had to consciously choke down her revulsion.
æRepulsive little things. I wonÆt stand for this. By God, I wonÆt.Æ
Another thing became clear to her as she ceased struggling - the sound of metal echoing through the air. Opening her eyes, she saw a knight in golden armour approach her.
ôPlease help me, kind sir.ö
When her captors heard the sound of her voice, they hissed at her û until the knight drew his sword, which drew their attention somehow. Another voice spoke up from behind her saviour û some trollop following the nobleman, no doubt begging for the scraps from his table.
ôMilord, donÆt kill them û theyÆre victims of the same magician who did this to us!ö
The knight put away his blade, so quickly that it seemed to her that he had made it disappear.
ôVery well, Willow. I shall remove the magic that taints them, instead û mark well the power of your liege, woman.ö
There was a flash of light, and last thing she saw was the dark eyes of her rescuer, burning with power.
-
Gilgamesh smiled victoriously, feeling his mana reserves refill themselves, feeding off of the magic transforming the woman and her attackers.
ôExcellent. That will be more than enough to open the Gate of Babylon, if I have need.ö
He could kill his summoner with impunity, now. And add one more gorgeous creature to his growing collection.
æAny more women and IÆll need to form a harem. A bothersome task, but one a King must be willing to endure.Æ
The sarcastic grin on his features belied his words.
ôNow, Willow. Let us find a suitable place to rest and to deliver this woman unto û from there, we can divine the location of our mysterious Magi.ö
Picking the aristocrat up with surprising care, he lifted her by the shoulders and knees, resting her against his chest.
He noticed that the red-haired woman looked strangely relieved, with a flicker of jealousy in her eyes.
æOf course, she desires me. Fear not, young one. I am a generous master.Æ
ôYes, my lord. There is a safe place for us this way.ö
Turning, Willow lead the way for Xander and Buffy û wondering when the madness of this night would end. Then, almost against her own will, she hesitantly wondered how Xander could make being an arrogant bastardà so irresistibly attractive.
-
Looking at the building with a critical eye, Gilgamesh was rather unimpressed.
ôThis is rather a humble dwelling for one such as myself, woman.ö
Willow bowed her head, gritting her teeth in silence û how to appeal to his vanity...
ôI apologise, you Highness û this is her summer home, which is less becoming of her station and your own. Her fatherÆs home is several times larger than this, but is many hours journey from here.ö
Snorting in a way that was less than regal, the gold-clad hero shifted his dainty burden.
ôItÆll have to do, then. Needs must, even for myself.ö
It would likely be a touch more comfortable than that insufferable ass KotomineÆs home. And there were two gorgeous women at his beck and call.
æI shall bear the hardship, then û there was far less comfort in the old days with Enkidu, after all.Æ
Yes indeed û no need to find a comfortable area of the landscape to defecate in, here. That alone was worth most of the riches he possessed. Howeverà
ôI suppose IÆll have to open the door for myself, eh woman?ö
What purpose having a servant and then doing the work yourself? When he caught up to the Summoner whoÆd seen fit to play with the Throne of Heroes, he would dispense Divine justice the like of which Marduk would envy. And pain, too. Much pain.
Supporting the rescued maiden with one powerful arm, he shifted the other and opened the door, walking through it as though he owned the house.
He closed it on Willow as she walked through it, elicting an unimpressed look from the young lady.
ôIf you cannot control the humour of your eyes, woman, I will remove for you.ö
Giving a look that was both dubious and curious, the redhead questioned his statement.
ôUhàhow? IÆm a ghost, remember?ö
Placing his passenger down on a nearby sofa, straightening her dress as he rose.
ôAllow me to show you, little one.ö
His form shimmered and disappeared from the room. Willow looked around frantically, wondering what on earth Gilgamesh he had just done. A heavy hand landed on her backside, causing her to spin and blush simultaneously.
Gilgamesh stood behind her, his outline shimmering oddly û and now an arrogant blonde, red eyes shining with mirth.
ôNot bad. Not bad at all. I think you and I will have much to discover, once your body is returned to you.ö
WillowÆs blush went nuclear û this guy was forward, but he *definitely* had the looks to get away with it.
ôO-o-o-okay. S-so, youà uhà can touch ghosts. Great. But that helps us find the wizard weÆre looking forà how, exactly?ö
He crossed his arms over his chest, red eyes closing in thought.
ôHmmà an excellent question. Brains and beauty, eh? Excellent.ö
His closed eyes snapped open, and she felt like a mouse in front of a viper û transfixed by a predator who was sending signals on a wavelength she couldnÆt hope to comprehend. Blushing on top of her blush, Willow looked away.
Smirking, Gilgamesh expended some mana to return to his physical form.
Another scream reached his ears, and old, chivalrous instincts pushed the King of Heroes from the house out to the front yard. A stunning young thing dressed as a cat was running from a large, lupine creature that obviously wanted to tear a chunk from her hide.
æThat wonÆt do at all. I canÆt have such an exquisite treasure being damaged by some ravenous mongrel.Æ
Foregoing to summon a weapon from his stock, the ancient warrior simply grabbed the beastÆs shaggy arms as it passed, kicked its legs out of place and then secured a foot between its shoulders, pulling its arms back. The incredible pressure this caused across the torso of the animal-man made it stop and think.
Using his physical connection to the transmogrified monster, Gilgamesh siphoned off the mana that was powering the trasformation, taking it for himself.
ôYou have the gratitude of the King, mongrel. Now begone from my presence, back to the refuse pit you call home.ö
The bruised human kneeling at his feet scrambled away more by instinct than design, obeying the charisma of GilgameshÆs command without protest.
Looking at the woman, Gilgamesh smiled.
ôHeh. Well met, cat girl. Follow me û there is safety under my banner, for those I deem worthy.ö
A withering glare was sent his way.
ôWhatever, loser. Like IÆd wear your banner, anyway. ItÆd be totally tacky and horrible, just your collection of shirts.ö
Lowering himself to his haunches, the monarch of Uruk stared measuringly at her.
ôHa ha ha. You are spirited. Good. Very good. The more spirited the prey, the more I enjoy the hunt.ö
Standing, his cape swirling around him majestically, he smirked in a way that infuriated Cordelia Chase û even as it sent shivers down her spine. *This* was Xander Harris?
ôI will indulge you, woman. See how long you can resist the desire that burns in your belly. See how long you can resist Gilgamesh, King of all he surveys.ö
Turning, he walked away, dismissing her so easily that it was like a slap in the face. Cordelia watched him go, unsure of whether to throw herself at his vulnerable back, or throw herself at his feet.
æWhat the heck just happened? What the _is_ he?Æ
No way was that Xander Harris. No way in hell!
-
Returning to his little noble and the Willow girl, Gilgamesh congratulated himself on a job well done û that cat girl (and he reminded absently himself to get her name, at some point) was quite the catch. But in order to enjoy it, he would have to free himself from the spectre of the summoner floating around his head.
ôWhere might he be, I wonder?ö
He stretched out with his senses, but the mana of this Magi was spread all over the town, cast wide like a fishermanÆs nets û and catching all manner of fish in his trap. The origin of the spell was impossible to single out, even for a legend like Gilgamesh.
Deciding to change his approach, the Servant sat down and began drumming his fingers on the nearby table.
ôHm. There must be some form of magical presence in this place, Willow. Some mentor to young magicians, some guide.ö
Frowning in thought, his disembodied companion concentrated on finding a person that fit the bill.
ôUmmà about the only person I can think of who knows about magic would be Giles û heÆs usually the person who finds us the answers we need.ö
The King stood, a decisive action that was mirrored by his next declaration.
ôThen go. My own skills tell me nothing of this magiÆs presence û his power is stretched too far for me to sense his true presence. Your master Giles may know better how to find one of his own.ö
Willow stood, looking uncertainly between Xander and Buffy, trying to decide if she really could leave them. At that moment, Cordelia Chase burst into the house, her tight catgirl outfit rumpled and torn.
ôCould you have, like, waited any longer to beat up Jojo the Dog-faced boy? My deposit will totally be lost, now. I know you got your ugly little costumes at that new bargain basement place, but Party Town are _much_ less forgiving.ö
Rolling her eyes, Willow turned and ran through the wall û wherever Cordelia was, the redhead didnÆt _want_ to be.
-
Gilgamesh sighed imperiously, giving the catgirl a sliver of attention.
ôDid you want something, woman, or were you merely hungry for a sight of Divinity?ö
Huffing, she crossed her arms across an expansive chest.
ôLike, whatever. I _was_ gonna tell you about the horde of zombies coming this way, but now I wonÆt even bother.ö
Standing quickly, the Servant strode swiftly to the front window and pushed the drapes aside. Narrowed brown eyes looked out on a shambling mess of monsters, from pint-sized goblins to massive wolf-men.
ôAh-hah! A siege û havenÆt had one of those in centuries.ö
At this rate, heÆd need to open the Gate of Babylon. And doing that indoors was most inadvisable û parts of the house would be atomized by the forces involved. If he could lead them away, then he would be free to employ whatever means he chose to defeat them.
ôHm. How to lure them away, thoughàö
Turning away from the window, he crossed his arms and traced his chin in thought. Six wide steps took him to the sofa, and there he stopped. Looking down at the sleeping form of the Buffy girl, his dark eyes grew with a devious light.
Looking over his shoulder, he spoke an order to the spirited brunette.
ôIÆll take her and run û once they give chase, you get out of here and back to wherever is safe for you. Or wait for Willow to return, if you wish. It is of little account.ö
Hoisting Buffy on one shoulder, he wasted no time in walking to the door and throwing it open with one hand. Then, taking a deep breath, he shouted a challenge to the assembled pack of monsters.
ôYou squirming, pathetic brood of disease-ridden worms. Come, let us play a game of hart and hunter û to see if mongrels can catch such prey as me!ö
An angry murmur went up from them, even as they began to swarm towards him. Turning to the side, Gilgamesh secured his grip on the woman and released a focused burst of mana, surrounding himself in a golden glow as he leapt forward. After a quick burst of acceleration, he allowed his power to fade and ran at a more leisurely pace.
æNo point in acting as bait if I outrun my soon-to-be-victims, now is there?Æ
-
William the Bloody was a keen proponent of the old adage æknow your enemyÆ. He had been quite comfortable to watch the Slayer and see how she fought, before taking her on for the first time. And, if not for a bloody loony old bitch with a fire-axe, heÆd have bagged his third Slayer in a century.
However, Spike was also a firm believer in making full use of unexpected opportunities. So when he saw the brown-haired happy meal running through the streets with an unconscious Slayer on his shoulder, the opportunistic Vampire smiled and joined the chase.
-
It took Gilgamesh only five minutes to reach a suitably wide area of the town, even with the soft weight of a woman on his shoulders. When he judged the battleground to be suitable, he stopped, gently swung the woman in the voluminous dress from his shoulders to the ground, and turned to face his pursuers.
ôFar enough, mongrels. Let the games begin.ö
There was no response from his pursuers û they seemed winded from the chase, able only to growl and snap their jaws at him.
æNot the most articulate of worms, these. Still, theyÆll do.Æ
It had been a long, long time since he had been attacked by a mass of seething rabble. And he lacked the mana necessary to destroy them all with Enuma Elish, which left the more time-consuming course of action û destroying them individually.
æFeh. A KingÆs work is never done, it seems.Æ
Posing dramatically, a slight shift of his shoulders sent his cape swirling around him. Then Gilgamesh, the stage set, spoke three words of immeasurable power.
ôGate of Babylon.ö
The world around them shook as a single red flare shot up into the sky behind him. Then, twisting reality as though it were childÆs play, the royal treasury of Gilgamesh, King of Uruk, opened in a display of crimson light. Floating suspended within the vault, a thousand weapons hung on invisible threads.
ôWatch, worms. Watch and feel the approach of an unstoppable power that mongrels such as you could never hope to match! A-ha, aha ha ha ha ha ha, hah hah hah ha, a-ha haa!ö
The horde couldnÆt help but spend a second staring, as the man in golden armour just stood there and laughed, as if he knew a hilarious joke that they were the butt of.
Then, a second or two after that had sunk in, they started to get angry. Very angry. Livid. Incandescent with rage, even.
The tidal wave of inhuman beings instantly resumed the charge to decide who would have the honour of removing this infuriating little human from his tin shell, and then cave his skull in. The victor would probably get to eat his brain, too.
Gilgamesh himself was caught in an unusual bout of indecision.
æHmmà It seems that some of these little demons may well be my subjects, caught up in the magic of the craven maggot who summoned me.Æ
It would not do to waste mana destroying his own subjects, only to be left with too little for the dispensing of divine wrath upon that same maggot.
ôRejoice, crawling dung beetles. I, the mighty King of Heroes, have decided not to grant you oblivion.ö
A second after his declaration, said King of Heroes cast out a web of mana and used it to connect with every single member of the horde. Then, wasting no time, he drained the strange new magic that had been inscribed over their own circuits, and drew it to himself.
All of ten seconds after his first sentence, no less than ninety young human children in various costumes and outfits lay unconcscious across the length and breadth of the street. Gilgamesh, his own mana fully replenished, stood over them, looking for all the world like a King receiving the veneration he was due. In fact, only one other being in the whole street remained concscious.
As GilgameshÆs expression shifted like quicksilver, William the Bloody hefted a child by the back of his robe and hurled him bodily at the ancient monarch.
Gilgamesh, annoyed at having his effort to save himself a little work thwarted, caught the child easily and tossed him onto a nearby lawn in an uncaringly casual manner. What he failed to notice, in his abundant arrogance, was the fist aiming to hammer into his face.
Indeed, the King had barely realized that something was approaching him at high speed, when the inhuman blow landed and snapped his head to the side. One golden hand came up to touch his face in disbelief. As the gauntlet came away stained with beads of crimson, that disbelief quickly transformed itself into anger.
ôWhat repulsive mongrel *dares* to strike my face?ö
Spike, having fully expected his first hit to end the conflict entirely û incidentally smashing the boyÆs face in like an over-ripe melon, and sending his body hurtling into the night û was caught flat-footed.
ôSoddinÆ hell û what the fuck is your face made of, you mad bastard?ö
ôInsolent, worthless refuse. I will make you cry tears of blood before your petty life is ended this night.ö
With a click of his fingers, Gilgamesh began to make his words a reality. There was an impression of something moving between them at tremendous speed û which was the only warning Spike had of the spear that materialized from within the Gate and impaled him.
ôEraaagh! Christ on a bike, whereÆd that come from?ö
Gilgamesh crossed his arms, staring imperiously at his new toy. Three blades faded into existence, one above his head and one by each of his shoulders. Wavering slightly on a vertical axis, they floated as if held in an invisible grip. For all intents and purposes, they were. Spike, impaled on a spear, floated helpless in similar fashion.
ôTo think that a thing as wretched as you, would dare to touch my glorious face.ö
The God-King stretched out one golden arm, and clenched his fist. His blades flashed forward, crackling with mana and ill intent. Spike could do nothing but close his eyes and pray to some dark power for mercy, even as the swords pierced him through.
Coughing up blood from pierced lungs, the Vampire wheezed helplessly. Dark blood oozed slowly from the wounds in his torso, dripping from his duster and the razor sharp Noble Phantasms that protruded from his dead flesh.
Peering closely, Gilgamesh looked at the slow flow of blood quizzically.
ôYou bleed oddly, mongrel. What ails you?ö
Spike lowered his head to cough up some blood û when he lifted himself again, his visage had shifted to the predatory, bony visage of a vampireÆs true face.
Laughing giddily, the King clapped his hands in delight.
ôAha ha ha ha! A Vampire - how wonderful. I havenÆt played with one of your kind in an age. Why, Enkidu used to rip you blood-drinking swine apart with his bare hands!ö
Gilgamesh withdrew a scythe from the depths of his vault, and walked forward towards his victim.
ôCutting off that ugly head of yours will end this little amusement, wonÆt it maggot?ö
Spike drew his head back and spat a mouthful of blood at the golden form. Gilgamesh stopped moving, content to watch the thick red liquid fall well short of his position.
ôMeaningless defiance, mongrel û itÆs not like you can even delay the inevitable, now is it?ö
Hefting the scythe, he snapped it up and around, using its length to his advantage. It was obvious he meant to decapitate his victim without taking a single step closer to him.
It was something of a mixed blessing for Spike, then, that the spell was ended prematurely at exactly that moment. On one hand, he managed to survive the night with his head still attached to his shoulders. On the other, GilgameshÆs mana was no longer sustaining the Gate of Babylon, meaning the armoury was closed û and its contents returned therein. So, SpikeÆs defenestrated body fell from four feet up in the air, onto the unforgiving concrete beneath him.
The Vampire couldnÆt even scream û all of the air in his lungs left in one explosive rush as soon as he hit the ground. Again, in a stroke of good fortune, Gilgamesh was in no position to take advantage of the opening û the imprint of him that had been in control of Xander Harris was now gone, and only the teenager remained.
ôOh, shit. That was intense. Damn, what a rush!ö
Looking around himself at the carnage his body had caused, he felt a little shiver of excitement at the raw power of the King of Heroes.
ôGahà Xander? Izzat you?ö
Who was tha-
ôBuffy? Are you OK?ö
She pulled off her brown wig, revealing the tightly bound blonde hair beneath it. Then she massaged her forehead with one hand.
ôYeah, just having an interesting night. First there was this evil car, and the this hot Knight, and th-àö
She looked up at him, taking in the long crimson cloak, the golden armour and the slightly perverted grin on his face.
ôAnd youÆre never gonna let me forget the fact that I just called you hot, are you?ö
He added a pair of waggling eyebrows to his pervy grin.
ôNot if I live to be a hundred, Buffster.ö
They shared a moment of amusement, before Xander walked over to her and offered his hand. Choosing not to stand on feminism, she took and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
ôThank-you, milord Xandermesh.ö
He winced, feeling the word grate against his ears.
ôYuck. Never say that word again, Buffy û it sounds _horrible_.ö
She stumbled over her dress, and he caught her with a hand around her waist. Supporting her weight easily û which of itself sent alarm bells ringing û he allowed her to steady herself before stepping away.
ôCÆmon, Buff. LetÆs go home.ö
As they passed Spike, Xander gave the Vampire a kick for good measure. The bleached blonde moaned slightly, but made no movement otherwise. Released from the spell, most of the once-again-human humans were beginning to stir, so neither Buffy nor Xander had any misgivings about letting them find their own way home.
ôDo you have a stake handy, Buffy?ö
ôNo. It was supposed to be a quiet night, tonight.ö
ôDamn it, me neither. I guess Spike gets to live a bit longer. That sucks.ö
Buffy looked down at the bleeding corpse, feeling slightly revolted at the state of him.
ôYeah. Something tells me he wonÆt be a problem for a while. What happened?ö
Xander almost bit his own tongue off in his effort to avoid blurting out a æme, I did it!Æ
ôUhà if IÆm not totally losing it, I think I did. Or, at least, Gilgamesh did.ö
Buffy gave him a sidelong glance, but what she was thinking he couldnÆt tell.
ôWell I guess heÆs a legend for a reason, eh Xander?ö
ôYeah, Buff. I guess he really is.ö
Thankful that heÆd sidestepped the issue of Noble Phantasms and related pieces of forbidden knowledge, Xander sighed deeply.
Perhaps, once heÆd gotten all of that straight in his own mind, heÆd tell her, Wills and Giles about it. But not before. Not if it was likely to get them asking questions about the Holy Grail Wars, because that would get his friends very dead, in short order.
The teenagers were both running on the edge of exhaustion, so they split up on the edge of the main drag û Buffy went east and Xander turned west, both of them heading for home. TheyÆd put the pieces together in the morning, with Giles and Willow.
Neither of them doubted that the people of Sunnydle would forget this had ever happened, and get themselves home to bed. HalloweenÆs tradition as a quiet night for the Supernatural would stop anything untoward happening û especially since the only demons stupid enough to go against said tradition were dead or dying on the ground.
Right now, all either of them wanted to do, was sleep. Hopefully for a week.
-
The next morning shed new light on the situatuion. When Xander Harris awoke, it was to the bright dawn of a new morning û and the heavy weight of Gilgamesh pressing against his consciousness.
æWhy the heck was _I_ dreaming _his_ dreams?Æ
They had started off easy enough to identify û running through the lands of Babylon, Enkidu at his side, adventure ahead of every step. He had even caught a glimpse of Ishtar, at one point. Freaking hot, she was û Gilgamesh must have had balls of steel to turn her down.
But the dreams had taken a surreal turn, with him ending up in Japan as a Heroic Spirit, fighting in the Fourth Holy Grail War. After the previous night, Xander could identify that easily enough û the knowledge Gilgamesh had possessed was his now. But knowing something existed, and then seeing it happen in the first person were two very different things.
HeÆd seen Gilgamesh unleash the full power of the Gate of Babylon on unsuspecting opponents, and the destruction it had wreaked was truly impressive. Part of him wanted that kind of power û and part of him was quite convinced that it was his right. The incomparable ego of the King of Heroes was, it seemed, contagious.
æItÆs funny û I just canÆt seem to bring myself to care. I was sharing my head with the most charismatic ruler in history, and IÆll be damned if he hasnÆt rubbed off on me.Æ
Well, heÆd always wished he could have a little more confidence. This was overkill, but it suited him perfectly. The maggots at Sunnydale High School wouldnÆt know what they were dealing with.
Standing, he selected some suitably impressive clothing from his small stock of formal attire, and went off to shower. Today, he would grace the halls of learning with his august presence. Not for anything as mundane as learning û he knew all he needed from the God-King.
Making a mental note, he decided to put GilgameshÆs Golden Rule to the test û just how long would it take to stumble onto the resources necessary for future luxury?
-
Half an hour later, dressed in black slacks and a dark red shirt, Xander was starting at his reflection intently.
ôCasually formal, with just the right colours for the darker kind of white guy. Butàö
He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning in though in a nigh perfect imitation of Gilgamesh.
ôSomething is missing. The outfit isnÆt quite finished.ö
What else could he add? This was important û the first impression he gave would set the tone for all subsequent meetings; this was important û he had to show the rest of the maggots in the High School food chain that he was not the same man. The Scooby Gang, likewise, had to be shown in a way that was obvious, that the status quo had been rendered null and void.
As soon as he looked at himself in the mirror again, he knew _exactly_ what was missing.
And he knew where to _find_ it.
Turning away from the mirror, he reached out his hand and grasped something in the air. Twisting his hand at the wrist, he began to pull, as if opening a door that only he could see. With a flash of red light that snuck under the doorjamb and through the curtains onto the street below, the Gate of Babylon became ajar.
Smiling arrogantly at his handiwork, Xander nodded in satisfaction
æGood. Very good. It may be useless for combat, but the drain on my magical energy is small, and this allows me to access the different parts of the vault. Excellent work.Æ
Walking forward, he stepped into the Gate and lost himself in the treasure trove of ancient wonders. Just as the Gate of Babylon closed the chink in its armour, mad laughter echoed outward from the vault.
ôA-ha, ha ha ha, hah hah hah haa, haa h-ö
-
School beckoned Xander Harris with a whole new world of amusing possibilities. And, like the God-King before him, he was not one to ignore the performance of mongrels barking at each other for his benefit.
Walking jauntily towards Sunnydale High School, he shifted his shoulders, trying to get the jacket he had retrieved from the Gate of Babylon to sit right. It had been one of GilgameshÆs favourites, from Fuyuki some nine years hence, bought during the period of time the Archer-class Servant had walked among humans as a human. Given that the Gate of Babylon existed in a dimension of its own, it was not part of the space/time continuum û much like the Throne of Heroes itself, it was always full of weapons and other such treasures and always available to the one who possessed the Key.
Such as Gilgamesh û and now Xander Harris.
Thus, clothing that Gilgamesh had stored for his own use in ten years time, was now available for Xander to wear. And, in his opinion, the black jacket with white stripes down the arm and across the chest, was exceedingly stylish.
The inventory of magical artifacts inside the treasury was quite intriguing, and heÆd spent some time looking at them in depth. Undoubtedly the most useful was an elixir distilled from the tears of twelve virgins, which would begin to increase the rate at which he could recharge his mana, and gradually increase the amount of mana he possessed.
HeÆd drunk a vial of the stuff, awful as it had been, in order to begin preparing himself for using the Gate of Babylon. Unfortunately, to build up large enough magical reserves to open the Gate in combat and not instantly die from the power drain, would take years. As it was, he could call on one or two weapons from within his royal treasury and use them as melee weapons, or literally shoot them like arrows. And even then, that would burn him out quickly û he just didnÆt have the same magical reserves as a magical summoning of Gilgamesh could boast.
æFeh. Right. Even the weakest of Servants has ten times the power of any human being. The more powerful ones regularly hit forty or fifty times the strength or speed of a human, when they really get going.Æ
During the Grail War, Gilgamesh had boasted the strength of forty men, and the agility and endurance of thirty. Xander, despite the headstart of living on the Hellmouth and the additional boost of having played host to Gilgamesh, could only match the magical reserves of two other guys put together. Maybe three, on a good day, with the elixir helping him. Every other parameter for judging his power û strength, endurance, agility - were well within human norms.
Shaking his head, Xander put those thoughts out of his head û he had no desire and no reason to dwell on his own weakness. If he played it smart, he could use Noble Phantasms to even the gap in strength between himself and everything else on the Hellmouth.
And perhaps the other trinkets heÆd found in the vault would offer assistance in other ways, too. That would require more thought, thorough examination, and planning. As it was, he would go to school and enjoy inverting the natural pecking order, by being better than the maggots there at everything they cherished. Merely because it amused him to do so.
HeÆd gotten to the halfway point between his home and Sunnydale High, when he found he just couldnÆt forbear the ill-fitting jacket any longer. It was too short in the arms and too narrow across his shoulders to have any chance of fitting. With a click of his fingers, he sent it back to the vault whence it had come from.
Standing still for a moment, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply.
ôOKà where would I get a proper jacket that fits me, at this time in the morning, for free?ö
He could always steal it from a Vampire. Unfortunately, he didnÆt know where any dead guys were living, at the minute û especially not any of them who were his size.
æWait. There is one who fits the bill.Æ
The bastardÆs house was on the way to school, too, from this direction. Perfect!
-
*Knock-knock-knock.*
Angel had just been preparing himself for bed when the door had been knocked on impatiently. Putting down his mug of warm, thick pigÆs blood, the Vampire went to answer û even as he tried to remember who knew _where the hell he lived_!
*Knock-knock-knock!*
Unbolting the door, he left the chain tapering across the door frame, allowing him to open the door only a fraction and close it quickly if he needed to. The face on the other side of the door, however, shocked him into leaving the door open.
ôOpen the door, mongrel.ö
ôàXander?ö
ôObviously. Now opened the damned door. We have much to discuss.ö
Almost against his better judgment, Angel did as he was bidden.
ôWhat do you want?ö
ôRiches, more mana, my own harem. But most of all, I want a jacket that will fit me. YouÆll supply me with one.ö
Amused at the boyÆs new arrogance, Angel crossed his arms and smiled, allowing no small measure of mockery into his expression.
ôWhy would I do that?ö
ôItÆs quite simple, really û if you give me one of your many, many varieties of coat, IÆll tell you exactly what happened last night.ö
Picking up his mug, Angel took a sip of warm blood. It didnÆt even make the boy flinch.
ôAnd if I donÆt?ö
Xander shrugged, as if he truly didnÆt give a damn one way or the other.
ôIÆll kill you in a way that will never be traced back to me, and then IÆll take whatever I please as spoils of war.ö
Laughing out loud, Angel shook his head.
ôXander, IÆm afraid you have this all wrong. YouÆre the only one who knows where I live. If you disappear, theyÆll never know you came to see me. TheyÆll never even suspect that you came to see me û youÆve already given me a perfect alibi, by hating me so much. Buffy wouldnÆt even expect me to give a damn.ö
Draining his pint of blood, Angel shifted into his vampiric face and gave a sharkÆs grin.
ôI could kill you right now and never have a single finger pointed at me.ö
Standing in the small room of AngelÆs apartment, the two men stared at each other for an interminable moment. Eventually, Angel snorted and shifted himself.
ôWhat happened last night?ö
Xander waved a hand, as if pushing the question aside.
ôCoat first, mongrel. Stories are for obedient peons only.ö
Perhaps deciding that information was a valuable enough trade, the Vampire moved to a side-room and began nosing around, out of XanderÆs sight. The sound of hangars sliding up and down a cupboard rack floated out to the teenÆs ears.
When Angel returned a minute later, he had with him a leather jacket, with one of those typically non-functional belts stitched around the back of it. Throwing it underarm to his aggravating, arrogant informant, the older man glowered.
ôMy part of the bargain is done. Speak, now.ö
Sliding the jacket over his shoulders û after a none-too-subtle once-over for bloodstains and grave-dirt û Xander spoke up.
ôWe turned into our costumes. I got Buffy and Willow back to the Summers house safely, then had to run when an army of kids transformed into monsters. Then I tortured Spike for a while, with a couple of swords that just happened to be part of my costume. No big.ö
As if to illustrate his last statement, Xander shrugged.
Angel sighed, scratching his chin slightly.
ôRight. And here I thought youÆd put the moves on my girlfriend.ö
Walking to the door, Xander smirked and readied his parting shot.
ôSuch a treasure deserves the touch of a worthy King, Angel. You are certainly not of good enough breeding to qualify. But IÆll wait until she comes to me herself û just so you finally know whom the better man is.ö
He walked out, closing the door behind him with a click.
Angel stood staring at the closed door, disbelieving what heÆd just heard. Not so much the fact that Xander had insulted him, which was in itself quite unremarkable. No, what pole-axed Angel was the fact that it had been delivered with such eloquence û hardly the hallmark of a typical Californian teenager - and definitely not normal for Xander.
-
Whistling a jaunty tune, Xander headed for school, the soft weight of the leather jacket on his shoulders and the satisfaction of having slapped Angel with a metaphorical gauntlet both pleasant feelings, in different ways. Especially since the cur had presumed to threaten him.
æKill me? _Him_? Not while a single Noble Phantasm remained in the Gate of Babylon, fool.Æ
Maniacal laughter bubbled up from his chest, echoing off of the houses around him even as he walked away.
This town. These people. They were his, now. They were the spoils of the new King, and he would rule them as was his right.
And heÆd start with the three girls from the night before. That was his decision û they were all exquisite, each worthy of the best û and he was the best. In time, they would see that. And they would be his.
~
Fin.
