[ And this is Gilgamesh, practicing his sword work. He's shirtless, sweating hard, and moving about as fast as most superhuman things would in his same position. ]
[ When he finishes -- after about an hour -- he's not so much as breathing hard. Marie can probably tell that something is a bit...off with how he's holding himself, though. ]
[ They're off...as if he's forcing himself to work harder than he should, his breath coming out in small, labored beats even though he looks perfectly fine. ]
[/is, unfortunately, blind and can't see Gilgamesh's facial expression, but he can hear that labored breathing (as well as his heartbeat, because he is hax that way).]
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Nn.
[ Just a bit of worry on his face, too. ]
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Are you alright?
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--What concern is it of yours?
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I'm fine, mongrel.
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What business is it of yours, if my person is "fine" or not?
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Noise? What sort of name is Noise?
[ And now, he takes a few steps forward to close the distance, leaning in to inspect Marie somewhat. ]
--Are you a jester? A magician? Only those types of people would have such a strange name.
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A memorable one.
No, I'm an Exorcist.
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