futurology | MASS TEXT; USERNAME: HAWKEYE

[In the end, she opts for the efficiency of a brief written message. (The message functionality of the jewelry still amazes her from time to time, but she's becoming increasingly fond of how fast it makes communication with others.)]

My name is Riza Hawkeye. I'm a military officer from the nation of Amestris. [Vague credentials, for anyone that really needs them.] There are a lot of us here gathered from different places and times, with different skills and areas of knowledge. I've spoken with a few others and we've agreed it would be beneficial for all of us to have a database of skills to pull from, both for this mission and otherwise.

[Most likely 'otherwise'; she can't be the only one suspicious of ALASTAIR after what happened in Anwick.]

If you're willing to provide a brief listing of the skills you possess, magical [because that's a thing that exists, apparently??] or otherwise, it would be greatly appreciated. If you're uncomfortable using the communications device I'm also happy to meet with you in person.

[And if you're not willing that's cool too. Everyone's got their secrets.]

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[She isn't sure how this relates to the whole 'meet me here and I'll ~~make all your wildest dreams come true~~ prove the extent of my abilities' but it's a question she's answered many times. There's nothing to hide, and if push comes to shove he'll find out soon enough anyway.

Her answer's precise, matching the overall tone of her voice - cool and exact.]

I prefer the precision of firearms. My height and weight are disadvantageous in close range battle; my aim from a distance, however, is not.

[Gilgamesh can respect a woman of discipline. And this is clearly what she is, maintaining such admirable composure before the likes of a god. Of course, she doesn't know that yet because she doesn't believe him because he's honestly not that dense, but that's about to change.

Gilgamesh lifts his hand and, as effortlessly as always, summons a swirling portal of the Gate high above his head. Then two, then three, then twenty, and then there's so many that they can no longer be counted. And from them slide the ends of rifles, the barrels of long guns, cannons, tanks, even, all pointed the opposite direction from his guest. There's no reason to make her feel unsafe.

In under half a minute Gilgamesh has summoned firearms sufficient to power an entire army and then some from thin air. With a snap of his fingers, he could obliterate a city block. Or worse. And to Riza, he says not a word, only looks to her with brows raised, as there is question enough in his expression to make speaking unnecessary.]

[At the sight of the first gun, she takes a reflexive step back. As more and more appear at a speed she wouldn't have dreamed possible, her eyes widen to a size almost comical. This is power unlike anything she's ever seen or heard of, save for the legend of the city of Xerxes, destroyed completely overnight. No concrete evidence had ever been found to pinpoint the cause but right now, she doesn't doubt that this man in front of her possess the power to replicate what had happened hundreds of years ago.

There's fear clear in her eyes; Riza's not stupid, to think she would ever be able to hold her own if he were to turn all that power against her. But she keeps her posture stick straight nonetheless, a task made somewhat easier by the heavy tension now present in each line of her body.]

My mistake for doubting you earlier [Thankfully, her voice holds steady.] If you could put those back from where they came from, I'm sure the townspeople would be very appreciative.

[No point in heavy littering while they're here.]

You'd be appreciative if I didn't kill them all.

[Gilgamesh isn't stupid. He sees that fear. He knows why it's there. And in an instant, he's learned what sort of person Riza Hawkeye is—the sort that fought for the people, even under the flag of the military. He likes that. That's useful. Soldiers always were, in some form or another.

At her behest, the weapons disappear and the magic along with them. They stand alone now, Gilgamesh with a small smile on his face. Knowing he's won in that same instant and pondering what to do with his victory for all of a few moments.]

I suppose you would think it impossible. The world I come from... it's the kind where legends come to life. It may be too hard for you to believe.

[But you will, the words once more go unspoken. He tips his head, imperiously, seems to expect something.]

What now? What will you write of me in this "database" of yours?

[That she would, though she doesn't voice the thought aloud. No point in doing so, when they're both well aware that he's the one in control at the current moment. But if he expects her to crumble at his feet, he'll be in for a wait. Caving doesn't come quick to her, not anymore.

She tips her head in acknowledgement of his words.]

I wouldn't be here still if I was unwilling to believe in the impossible.

[The promise of immortality, the existence of multiple worlds, such power so readily available with a single wave of the hand. All highly dangerous in their own right and ready to wipe her existence from this plane of reality should she prove unable to adapt. Even if she's still reeling from the rapidity with which everything's been introduced to her.

The question itself she directs back at him, chin lifted ever so slightly.]

What would you like written?

[She doesn't balk. She doesn't cower. That's what important, even if in that moment fear had undeniably gripped her. Gilgamesh respects her for this and so decides she's worthy of closer study. For this, he does not taunt her, and even seems to calm a little, thinking.

To believe in the impossible. She says it, but she doesn't really know what it means. Not yet. Not even Gilgamesh had a full grasp on the concept. They are alike in this regard, too human and too stubborn. For this, he decides that he likes her, and offers a small smile, less haughty than before.]

The truth.

[He lifts his chin, too. Not in a show of arrogance, but in unison. He is proud, yes, but in this moment no longer overwhelmingly so. Just himself, just human.]

Write whatever you believe it to be. I will trust your judgment.

[Quite the responsibility, to document the 'truth' about a man she's been acquainted with for all of five minutes. There's plenty she could write, all of which would count as truth in her mind, but nothing that would succinctly sum up in person in a few choice words. (Dangerous, perhaps, but only under the right circumstances.)

Later, she'll sit perched on her bed and wrangle thoughts into coherent words. For now, she finds herself curious, unwilling to step away from this meeting just yet.]

That's a lot of faith to place in someone you've just met.

[Simply a statement, nothing more.]

Edited 2015-11-02 23:00 (UTC)

[All that she needed to know about Gilgamesh, she had within those five minutes. There was so much and so little to say beyond that, so much and so little he could tell her, that it made no sense to delve into now. He'd given her what she needed, and she'd give him what he deserved by birthright: the truth. As far as he was concerned, this exchange was over.

But with that simple statement and nothing more, Gilgamesh finds some amusement. He cocks his head and studies her and it must be unsettling, because those eyes are certainly so up close, pupils flitting from wide to thin in the scope of a second. It must be unsettling but at the same time Gilgamesh expects it would take a lot more to disturb this woman.

Perhaps that's what draws his interest to begin with.]

You're a soldier. All soldiers behave the same way, to a degree, so a certain earnestness might be expected from you.

[He could leave it there. He doesn't. He goes on. He smiles all the wider.]

"This man before me is terrible. He wields his power recklessly, and seems very dangerous." Is that what you're thinking?

[Not 100% on the mark, but neither is his deliberate recitation off. There's a measure of truth to his words that she can't deny, even if the way he phrases her earnestness has her lips tightening.]

I asked for a demonstration; you provided one.

[And to his credit, he hadn't gone and ripped off his shirt while displaying the extent of his powers like others had in the past. (Now there was a man whose inner logic she'd never understand, Major Alex Armstrong.) The rest of his question goes unanswered, Riza taking a step back and dipping her head down a centimeter in a nod.]

Thank you for coming out here. [Even if the reality had been more akin to him bullying her out of her room. Basic courtesies ought still to be maintained here.] I won't take any more of your time.

[Precious as it must be for any self-declared king.]

MASS TEXT; USERNAME: HAWKEYE

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just kidding

you're terrible

i am terrible, this tag is so late