FFMUX -- Gilgamesh and Butz
A scene of Gilgamesh and Butz re-uniting for the first time in the Converged world. Both are characters from Final Fantasy V (though Gilgamesh spans several games). This is non-edited, taken directly from MUX rp. Happy reading.
The decision to linger in Bhujerba was a spontaneous one, but that's just how Butz operates. At first, he was just accompanying his good buddy along on a little distraction of his. Once he actually *got* here though...a thought suddenly struck him. A floating island isn't a place that the sea roving Faris would have had an opportunity to thoroughly search. Naturally, he owes it to her to search for Lenna here! It was hard parting with Dane, but there's just things that a man's gotta do sometimes.
...Like get lost on a floating island that is nothing but a big city from end to end, with the exception of the mines...
Still, getting lost is just another form of searching. It's finding yourself in strange, unknown places. Places where you're likely to find something or someone you've lost. It's all part of the plan, really! It just so happens that he's passing a streetside auction for a blacksmith at the time. He pauses here to sweep the area for a familiar shock of pink hair. ...Not that he expects Lenna to take too much fancy to things like that sword being waved around, but hey.
A slow horror begins to dawn on Butz. What if...Lenna's hair is no longer pink? What if he's been searching for the wrong thing all this time?!
Girls with bubblegum pink hair is much more suited to Midgar where they can make a girl band and tour with angry songs about men who want their vaginas more than their love and they won't give it up because they're girls and they're angry and burn your bras!!! Would Lenna burn her bra? Would she even need one? Bet Faris burnt hers.
Some wander without a true destination and others flee for their fool lives. A bad trip through the Dimensional Cleft wedged Gilgamesh in a dark place deep within Dorstonis. He roamed endless tunnels, through several tremors minor and devestating. When he found the light, it was on a large bridge far above the ocean. The ocean led to more underground darkness and skeletons and bats and zombies that crawled out of the floor and dinosaurs OH GOD WHY ARE THERE DINOSAURS UNDERGROUND?! Gilgamesh fought when he could, but most of the time he ran, tears streaming behind him, until he finally found his way out. Imagine the guard's confusion when he burst through the barricade from the inside and finally escaped into the city.
Who was that Mysterious Man dressed in red?
Was he crying for his mommy?
Now, free of that horrible nightmare, Gilgamesh weaves through the crowded streets dressed very conspiciously in his red sashes and golden trim. Somewhere along the way he acquired a glorious plumed helmet with great horns protruding from it. The pickpocketing business is lucrative here! Escaping attention for some strange reason is not. Glowing white eyes are shielded in the shadow of his helm as he slips past individuals with their eyes set on the wares lining the streets.
A glimmer of beads catches the four-armed thief's attention. One arm swipes out from under his cloak in an attempt to snatch up one of those many beaded danglies Butz has decorated himself with. If these aren't shiny plastic, maybe he'll eat well tonight!
Whether or not Lenna would need that bra varies widely depending on artist rendition. Nobody seems to trust Amano when matters as critical as a sleeveless dresses and pink hair are involved. Especially when their sisters are too busy pretending to be men.
It's a nice sword. Butz has been forcing himself to concentrate on matters such as Lenna and this fine, shiny piece of worksmanship being auctioned off for sale, because the alternative requires contemplating the fact that he's on another floating hunk of rock. One that is rumbling and may be showing signs of going the way of Lonka. These are *not* pleasant thoughts for one who is afraid of heights, but if *he's* afraid of these things, he must be all the more afraid that he might be leaving a friend behind to face the fate he's dreading so much! ...Poor Butz. He's a bit of a wreck under the hood. The hair is looking a bit more unkempt than usual, and thank goodness this distraction is here to distract him from things at hand and give him a brief resp--OW, OW, what the hell is that?!
You see, Gil's plan may have worked better if he hadn't gone for this bead strand in particular. Many are they in number and location, but this one doesn't happen to be dangling from his hair. In fact... "That's my EAR!!" A great deal of blind hand batting transpires as Butz looks up into the face of his assailant - looking down would be a far more painful arrangement as matters currently stand. "Stoppit, stoppit, stoppit!"
How trustworthy can Amano be when he draws women like Maria in armored boobcup pasties? Oh Amano, will you ever prescribe to physics and good taste?
Back to the tug of war. Gilgamesh might have better considered his target, but come on! There was a nice sword in the vicinity. The flash of it caught his eye and it took a couple of swipes to grab that string of beads. Now in hand, he doesn't seem so keen on letting go. "Stop struggling! These are mine!"
People around the squabbling pair begin to mutter. One person strikes the red-clad man from behind. "Thief! Let him go! Guards!" Another tries to grab Butz about the waist and pull. He's helping. He's really trying. Silver-skinned, clammy palms slip off the treasured beads. "FOOLS! You trifle with the great," he throws back his cape with a flourish, revealing three armed limbs and one free hand shaking from a blow across the knuckles. Oooooow ;_; "GILGAMESH!"
"Thief!" "He's got swords." "HALT!" Now the crowd is in a frenzy and the "great" Gilgamesh's gaze darts about frantically, trying to decide what threat to face first. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea afterall. With a mighty leap, he mounts the counter of the weapons kiosk, foolishly turning his back on the weaponsmith to address the crowd. "Who will be the first feel the bite of my blades?!" Nice. Subtle. These words do not suit this moron.
Oh god why. ;___; The gathering is treated to another pained yowl as the Good Samearitan gives him a solid tug in the opposite direction. He's in the process of trying to fumble with the clasp with one hand while fighting Gil's tug in the opposite direction, when he suddenly and unexpectedly finds himself released. The person helping is none the wiser (clearly not very wise to begin with), and the two go bowling through a few other civillians, providing the distraction his assailant needs to escape! ...To the front of the crowd. Maybe escape isn't the proper word here. Oh well.
There's a nagging sensation in the wanderer's head as he hears that loud, extremely annoying sound carry through the area. He...has experienced this before! The errant strands of thought are in the midst of knitting themselves together, reaching the same conclusion as the scarlet-sashed ninny: "Gilgamesh!" ...What the crap is he doing here? Didn't he, you know, die? Apparently not. Crap, crap, crap. If this is Gil, he really ought to talk to the guy, but with the way things are now that just isn't gonna work. "Umm...he's not a thief!", Butz proclaims loudly. "I, uh..." Gears turn. Ungreased ones that screech deafeningly. "Bought this earring from some guy...down the street..." Yes, yes...keep going...! "...obviously he must have stolen it from this...obnoxious, yet strangely endearing individual!" The crowd turns. Dot dot dot. Clearly they're having some trouble buying this. And so, under the pressure of everyone gathered, Butz is forced to lay on the derp in full force. "Come on now, we're all friends here, right?" ^____^
He's not a thief? Even Gilgamesh doubts his motivation when the skinny little guy defends him. --sort've. Still, no one has spoken so kindly about him in a long time. With a rasp of steel, Gilgamesh sheaths his swords and leaps down into the crowd, riding a few unfortunate individuals to the ground. Friends. Fractured memories reknit as realization dawns on him. He pounces Butz with the intention of wrapping him in all four arms in a crushing hug. "MY GREAT FRIEND BUTZ!" Were they ever friends? Okay, maybe the memories aren't so complete.
Gilgamesh opens his arms to strike a powerful pose that would be so much more impressive if he had his old height. "We have overwhelmed this crowd with our brotherly affection. To the rooftops, follow me!!" And once again, he springs in to action, scrambling awkwardly up a low wall when he misjudges the jump and eventually climbing his way to the rooftops several stories up. Ha--whoa--HA!
The crowd continues to look on in befuddlement as poor Butz has the air smooshed right out of him. "It's good...to see you...too..." This leaves the crowd to ponder amongst themselves for a moment. They're friends? He wants to be friends with his butt in exchange forthis kindness? Huh? Now people *really* don't know what's going on, so it's just as well that Gil takes this opportunity to flee the scene. Butz glances left and right for a moment, briefly uncertain, but deciding that he neither wants to be left with these dumbstruck people or to lose the one person he *did* manage to find. "H-Hey, wait for me!"
As it turns out, it's very fortunate for Butz that Gil isn't as awesome as he thinks he is, because chocobo boy has far less experience with this urban gymnastics thing than his many-armed compatriot. Several mishaps later on the part of both bumbling fools, they find themselves safely away from the crowd on the rooftop. If out of breath. "...Man...I wasn't...expecting to run into you around here. Your hair isn't pink, but better than nothing."
Meanwhile, cut back to the ditched crowd. "...They took my sword!!"
Up the wall they go, roly-poly, tumble bumble, pell mell... There's been at least one boot to the face, clothing used as an impromptu ladder, heads being jerked back, but eventually they're together, safe and-- well, they're together on the rooftops. Gilgamesh perches on the eaves like some weird rag-swathed gargoyle until Butz mentions his hair. Even Gilgamesh has to double-check that his hair isn't pink. Luckily he grabbed that highly-polished sword! Pretty, shiny sword. Nope, his hair's red as a rusty pail.
That sword is almost fumbled when someone indicates its stolen. "Compadre," he stands and indicates their path with a swipe of his sword. His cape and sash snap and curl in the wind. "We depart!" Oh wait, that's a sheer drop. He slices the other direction. "This way!" Seriously, the guard is entering the building below. "Ah;;;;;;" Did they just choose the only tall building on this block? Maybe they should have planned this a bit better? "Blatherskite!" One final slice of that sword and he wounds the tenuous membrane that seperates dimensions. It opens in a great, sucking, glowing gash. "He who swipes and runs away lives to sw--yagh!" So much for mighty taunting. Gilgamesh scrambles to grab a hold of anything solid as he's pulled back into the sucking rift. Since when do they suck?!
Whew, safe at last. ...Or maybe not. As the blue-clad lad fights to recapture his breath from both hug crush and spontaneous comic book adventuring, something else dawns him. "Uhh, Gilgamesh? You've...shrunk." Seriously, it's like he stepped into the washing machine and came out several sizes too small. It was hard to regard the guy as threatening even when he was the huge, many-armed gladiator of unknown lineage, and now...what the hell man. Butz's worldview just takes one punch to the guy after another. ;_; Or maybe that's just the hug still talking to him.
Unfortunately, the window for dialogue doesn't last very long at all. With guards hot on their heels, it seems like they're soon to be back in motion until Gilgamesh starts...wildly gesticulating with his sword. Is it a warm up or something? "I think we're in enough trouble already, let's try to sort this out without fight--" That something Gilgamesh latches on to happens to be Butz's arm. "--iiing...?! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH--!" In a valiant attempt to save them both, he reaches for the only thing providing purchase within arm's reach - someone's strung laundry line. It doesn't last for more than a few seconds. SNAP. And they were never heard from again.
Meanwhile, underneath Junon, an elderly fisherman feels a frantic tug at his reel. "Woah..! I think I've finally got her! You won't escape me THIS time, old rival!"
Shrunk? "Nonsense! Gilgamesh is bigger than life itself!" He thinks big. Big thoughts big... idiot.
Their comedy of errors hauls them between the narrow, inescapable dimension in this cobbled world. They pass pyreflies stretched in to long, thin impression of light with their speed. They tumble momentarily through the lifestream, crashing off some crystal formation of something and other and go tumbling out of control into the cold gray waters under Junon.
For a moment, they both hang suspended there, surrounded everywhere by an explosion of bubbles. When Gilgamesh tries to talk, water rushes in to his mouth. Reflex overrides common sense (that was a short fight) and the four-armed man flounders frantically once again.
What sort of line weight is that guy sporting? With the assistance of the ambitious fisherman, Gilgamesh rises to the surface along with the line of laundry. He continues to splay and struggle, sputtering and crying out in dismay. He can't swim to save his own life. Where's Baywatch when you need it?
The old coot struggles, determined to not be defeated this time. "I...will not...yield to you, foul demon!" His fishing pole had been specially reinforced for this occasion. He was prepared! He could not fail! But though his weapon would not snap, inch by inch his heels were being dragged closer to the end of the pier. "No...I've come this far...!" At last, he's forced to relinquish his weapon to the waters, just in time for some manner of creature to rise up unassisted. "It's..." So many arms, this isn't a human, this is a monster! And listen to it howling in anger!! "Monster! MONSTER! THERE'S A MONSTER OFF THE PIER! EVERYONE INSIDE!" How quick we are to give up on our dreams.
Enter the Butz. (On second thought, don't.) That...was one wild trip, and Butz has actually travelled the Cleft before. What the heck just happened? What WAS all of that crap? He isn't given much time to ponder this once spat out of The Space Between (meanwhile, Anne McCaffrey's lawyers get busy working on a lawsuit), as he finds himself being used as an impromptu floating device. "That's not--" Burble. "How you--" Gurgle. Stay afloat. Gilgamesh isn't listening, so he'll just have to do this the hard way. Wrenching himself free from Gilgamesh's grasp (a feat made slightly easier by the frantic flailing), he ties the laundry line around his companion's waist from underwater, and tows him the rest of the way to shore with a manly sidestroke. Oh, how the women would swoon at such heroic antics! ...That is, if they weren't all huddling terrified in their houses right now behind barred doors. At last, he stumbles onto shore, drags Gil on his back away from the water, and proceeds to flop down on his own back to pant.
Anyone else would have been killed by all of these closely interspaced feats of athletics. "...What the hell...just happened?", he all he can muster.
There are monsters in the water?! That doesn't still his flailing in the least! But at least Butz is there for daring do! Gilgamesh doesn't surrender his struggling until the shore is in easy sight, then he just goes deadweight out of relief, trailing bubbles like some poorly-designed jet ski. When his feet brush the sandy shelf, he nearly gets a chance to haul Butz the rest of the way to shore, rushing up through the water as he does. Luckily for the young hero, there's just enough slack on the laundry line that he isn't towed facefirst into the beach.
However, Gilgamesh does a fine impression of an ostrich, pressing his face into the sand and kissing it gladly. And summarily choking and sputtering. "I'm safe," he bawls. "I thought I was gonna DIE!" Oh, he's just pitiful sometimes. At least he's not a blubbering giant now.
Eventually, he does calm down and rubs at his glowing white eyes. Snf. What happened? "We got sucked in to the Dimensional Interval!" Duh. "It's a little busted," he mumbles miserably. You can't believe all the trouble that's caused him. "Butz. BUTZ! YOU SAVED ME!" Run, Butz. Run or you're going to get hugged again.
Hope you remembered to untie that laundry line.
Urrrgh. There are few people in this world enough to make Butz consider them something as derisive as a 'big baby', but Gilgamesh falls squarely on his shortlist. If nothing else, this is unquestionably the one he knows. These antics are inarguably one of a kind. "We weren't...that far from the shore.", he interjects through a gasp for air.
More words. Oh, right. The answer to his question, he had already managed to forget asking. "Interval...?" He takes him a moment to grasp it, and only because he's one of the few who has the proper context to make sense of it. Oh, and the t-shirt from his own visit. "Oh, the Cleft." Slowly sitting up, he begins swatting at the sand in his hair. ...Pause. "Uh, how did we end up there? And what happened after your fight with Necroph--" Unfortunately, Butz is considered flat footed while prone and does not get his dexterity bonus to AC. "Waugh!! Can't...breathe...!"
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the shred of rational thought in the back of Butz's mind is screaming from all the insane, loosely interconnected events of the past thirty minutes. Fortunately, that scream is hard to hear over the scream of the rest of his brain (and lungs) for oxygen!
No time for a trip down memory lane! Gilgamesh rubs the rest of his tears and snot on Butz's shirt as he rubs his face there and then slides away to sit back on the beach in a wet, miserable heap. He feels better now. Instantly, he sits up, white eyes round as saucers, "Butz! You are here! If you got in, maybe Gilgamesh can get out!" He just needs to find where Butz entered. He narrows his eyes shrewdly and looks off in the distance, stroking that little tuft of a soulpatch. "Now if I can only convince him to tell me..." he thinks aloud.
With the gears practically turning inside of Gilgamesh's mouth, it's hard not to see where this is going. Of course, of more pressing concern is the state of Butz's poor tunic. Man. Shera was *so nice* and she cleaned up his tunic the last time it was ruined and everything. Now it's waterlogged with saltwater and snot. ;_; Man, he's going to need a camp fire to clean up soon, and the thought of Gilgamesh near fire is terrifying.
Oh, right. Gil's train of thought jumping the tracks and plowing determinedly toward civillians. "Hate to break it to you, but I was just randomly dropped here a few months ago. And...well, things don't really make sense to me either." How to put this. "Like...Faris, you remember her, right? Well, she's been here ten years apparently, and she's now in her thirties. The Faris I knew was in her twenties and I saw her right before being yanked here."
Butz does not expect Gilgamesh to follow this at all. As it stands, he himself barely does. With this thought in mind, he resolutely plops back down onto his back in preparation for what must come next.
...poor Junon will never be the same.
The decision to linger in Bhujerba was a spontaneous one, but that's just how Butz operates. At first, he was just accompanying his good buddy along on a little distraction of his. Once he actually *got* here though...a thought suddenly struck him. A floating island isn't a place that the sea roving Faris would have had an opportunity to thoroughly search. Naturally, he owes it to her to search for Lenna here! It was hard parting with Dane, but there's just things that a man's gotta do sometimes.
...Like get lost on a floating island that is nothing but a big city from end to end, with the exception of the mines...
Still, getting lost is just another form of searching. It's finding yourself in strange, unknown places. Places where you're likely to find something or someone you've lost. It's all part of the plan, really! It just so happens that he's passing a streetside auction for a blacksmith at the time. He pauses here to sweep the area for a familiar shock of pink hair. ...Not that he expects Lenna to take too much fancy to things like that sword being waved around, but hey.
A slow horror begins to dawn on Butz. What if...Lenna's hair is no longer pink? What if he's been searching for the wrong thing all this time?!
Girls with bubblegum pink hair is much more suited to Midgar where they can make a girl band and tour with angry songs about men who want their vaginas more than their love and they won't give it up because they're girls and they're angry and burn your bras!!! Would Lenna burn her bra? Would she even need one? Bet Faris burnt hers.
Some wander without a true destination and others flee for their fool lives. A bad trip through the Dimensional Cleft wedged Gilgamesh in a dark place deep within Dorstonis. He roamed endless tunnels, through several tremors minor and devestating. When he found the light, it was on a large bridge far above the ocean. The ocean led to more underground darkness and skeletons and bats and zombies that crawled out of the floor and dinosaurs OH GOD WHY ARE THERE DINOSAURS UNDERGROUND?! Gilgamesh fought when he could, but most of the time he ran, tears streaming behind him, until he finally found his way out. Imagine the guard's confusion when he burst through the barricade from the inside and finally escaped into the city.
Who was that Mysterious Man dressed in red?
Was he crying for his mommy?
Now, free of that horrible nightmare, Gilgamesh weaves through the crowded streets dressed very conspiciously in his red sashes and golden trim. Somewhere along the way he acquired a glorious plumed helmet with great horns protruding from it. The pickpocketing business is lucrative here! Escaping attention for some strange reason is not. Glowing white eyes are shielded in the shadow of his helm as he slips past individuals with their eyes set on the wares lining the streets.
A glimmer of beads catches the four-armed thief's attention. One arm swipes out from under his cloak in an attempt to snatch up one of those many beaded danglies Butz has decorated himself with. If these aren't shiny plastic, maybe he'll eat well tonight!
Whether or not Lenna would need that bra varies widely depending on artist rendition. Nobody seems to trust Amano when matters as critical as a sleeveless dresses and pink hair are involved. Especially when their sisters are too busy pretending to be men.
It's a nice sword. Butz has been forcing himself to concentrate on matters such as Lenna and this fine, shiny piece of worksmanship being auctioned off for sale, because the alternative requires contemplating the fact that he's on another floating hunk of rock. One that is rumbling and may be showing signs of going the way of Lonka. These are *not* pleasant thoughts for one who is afraid of heights, but if *he's* afraid of these things, he must be all the more afraid that he might be leaving a friend behind to face the fate he's dreading so much! ...Poor Butz. He's a bit of a wreck under the hood. The hair is looking a bit more unkempt than usual, and thank goodness this distraction is here to distract him from things at hand and give him a brief resp--OW, OW, what the hell is that?!
You see, Gil's plan may have worked better if he hadn't gone for this bead strand in particular. Many are they in number and location, but this one doesn't happen to be dangling from his hair. In fact... "That's my EAR!!" A great deal of blind hand batting transpires as Butz looks up into the face of his assailant - looking down would be a far more painful arrangement as matters currently stand. "Stoppit, stoppit, stoppit!"
How trustworthy can Amano be when he draws women like Maria in armored boobcup pasties? Oh Amano, will you ever prescribe to physics and good taste?
Back to the tug of war. Gilgamesh might have better considered his target, but come on! There was a nice sword in the vicinity. The flash of it caught his eye and it took a couple of swipes to grab that string of beads. Now in hand, he doesn't seem so keen on letting go. "Stop struggling! These are mine!"
People around the squabbling pair begin to mutter. One person strikes the red-clad man from behind. "Thief! Let him go! Guards!" Another tries to grab Butz about the waist and pull. He's helping. He's really trying. Silver-skinned, clammy palms slip off the treasured beads. "FOOLS! You trifle with the great," he throws back his cape with a flourish, revealing three armed limbs and one free hand shaking from a blow across the knuckles. Oooooow ;_; "GILGAMESH!"
"Thief!" "He's got swords." "HALT!" Now the crowd is in a frenzy and the "great" Gilgamesh's gaze darts about frantically, trying to decide what threat to face first. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea afterall. With a mighty leap, he mounts the counter of the weapons kiosk, foolishly turning his back on the weaponsmith to address the crowd. "Who will be the first feel the bite of my blades?!" Nice. Subtle. These words do not suit this moron.
Oh god why. ;___; The gathering is treated to another pained yowl as the Good Samearitan gives him a solid tug in the opposite direction. He's in the process of trying to fumble with the clasp with one hand while fighting Gil's tug in the opposite direction, when he suddenly and unexpectedly finds himself released. The person helping is none the wiser (clearly not very wise to begin with), and the two go bowling through a few other civillians, providing the distraction his assailant needs to escape! ...To the front of the crowd. Maybe escape isn't the proper word here. Oh well.
There's a nagging sensation in the wanderer's head as he hears that loud, extremely annoying sound carry through the area. He...has experienced this before! The errant strands of thought are in the midst of knitting themselves together, reaching the same conclusion as the scarlet-sashed ninny: "Gilgamesh!" ...What the crap is he doing here? Didn't he, you know, die? Apparently not. Crap, crap, crap. If this is Gil, he really ought to talk to the guy, but with the way things are now that just isn't gonna work. "Umm...he's not a thief!", Butz proclaims loudly. "I, uh..." Gears turn. Ungreased ones that screech deafeningly. "Bought this earring from some guy...down the street..." Yes, yes...keep going...! "...obviously he must have stolen it from this...obnoxious, yet strangely endearing individual!" The crowd turns. Dot dot dot. Clearly they're having some trouble buying this. And so, under the pressure of everyone gathered, Butz is forced to lay on the derp in full force. "Come on now, we're all friends here, right?" ^____^
He's not a thief? Even Gilgamesh doubts his motivation when the skinny little guy defends him. --sort've. Still, no one has spoken so kindly about him in a long time. With a rasp of steel, Gilgamesh sheaths his swords and leaps down into the crowd, riding a few unfortunate individuals to the ground. Friends. Fractured memories reknit as realization dawns on him. He pounces Butz with the intention of wrapping him in all four arms in a crushing hug. "MY GREAT FRIEND BUTZ!" Were they ever friends? Okay, maybe the memories aren't so complete.
Gilgamesh opens his arms to strike a powerful pose that would be so much more impressive if he had his old height. "We have overwhelmed this crowd with our brotherly affection. To the rooftops, follow me!!" And once again, he springs in to action, scrambling awkwardly up a low wall when he misjudges the jump and eventually climbing his way to the rooftops several stories up. Ha--whoa--HA!
The crowd continues to look on in befuddlement as poor Butz has the air smooshed right out of him. "It's good...to see you...too..." This leaves the crowd to ponder amongst themselves for a moment. They're friends? He wants to be friends with his butt in exchange forthis kindness? Huh? Now people *really* don't know what's going on, so it's just as well that Gil takes this opportunity to flee the scene. Butz glances left and right for a moment, briefly uncertain, but deciding that he neither wants to be left with these dumbstruck people or to lose the one person he *did* manage to find. "H-Hey, wait for me!"
As it turns out, it's very fortunate for Butz that Gil isn't as awesome as he thinks he is, because chocobo boy has far less experience with this urban gymnastics thing than his many-armed compatriot. Several mishaps later on the part of both bumbling fools, they find themselves safely away from the crowd on the rooftop. If out of breath. "...Man...I wasn't...expecting to run into you around here. Your hair isn't pink, but better than nothing."
Meanwhile, cut back to the ditched crowd. "...They took my sword!!"
Up the wall they go, roly-poly, tumble bumble, pell mell... There's been at least one boot to the face, clothing used as an impromptu ladder, heads being jerked back, but eventually they're together, safe and-- well, they're together on the rooftops. Gilgamesh perches on the eaves like some weird rag-swathed gargoyle until Butz mentions his hair. Even Gilgamesh has to double-check that his hair isn't pink. Luckily he grabbed that highly-polished sword! Pretty, shiny sword. Nope, his hair's red as a rusty pail.
That sword is almost fumbled when someone indicates its stolen. "Compadre," he stands and indicates their path with a swipe of his sword. His cape and sash snap and curl in the wind. "We depart!" Oh wait, that's a sheer drop. He slices the other direction. "This way!" Seriously, the guard is entering the building below. "Ah;;;;;;" Did they just choose the only tall building on this block? Maybe they should have planned this a bit better? "Blatherskite!" One final slice of that sword and he wounds the tenuous membrane that seperates dimensions. It opens in a great, sucking, glowing gash. "He who swipes and runs away lives to sw--yagh!" So much for mighty taunting. Gilgamesh scrambles to grab a hold of anything solid as he's pulled back into the sucking rift. Since when do they suck?!
Whew, safe at last. ...Or maybe not. As the blue-clad lad fights to recapture his breath from both hug crush and spontaneous comic book adventuring, something else dawns him. "Uhh, Gilgamesh? You've...shrunk." Seriously, it's like he stepped into the washing machine and came out several sizes too small. It was hard to regard the guy as threatening even when he was the huge, many-armed gladiator of unknown lineage, and now...what the hell man. Butz's worldview just takes one punch to the guy after another. ;_; Or maybe that's just the hug still talking to him.
Unfortunately, the window for dialogue doesn't last very long at all. With guards hot on their heels, it seems like they're soon to be back in motion until Gilgamesh starts...wildly gesticulating with his sword. Is it a warm up or something? "I think we're in enough trouble already, let's try to sort this out without fight--" That something Gilgamesh latches on to happens to be Butz's arm. "--iiing...?! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH--!" In a valiant attempt to save them both, he reaches for the only thing providing purchase within arm's reach - someone's strung laundry line. It doesn't last for more than a few seconds. SNAP. And they were never heard from again.
Meanwhile, underneath Junon, an elderly fisherman feels a frantic tug at his reel. "Woah..! I think I've finally got her! You won't escape me THIS time, old rival!"
Shrunk? "Nonsense! Gilgamesh is bigger than life itself!" He thinks big. Big thoughts big... idiot.
Their comedy of errors hauls them between the narrow, inescapable dimension in this cobbled world. They pass pyreflies stretched in to long, thin impression of light with their speed. They tumble momentarily through the lifestream, crashing off some crystal formation of something and other and go tumbling out of control into the cold gray waters under Junon.
For a moment, they both hang suspended there, surrounded everywhere by an explosion of bubbles. When Gilgamesh tries to talk, water rushes in to his mouth. Reflex overrides common sense (that was a short fight) and the four-armed man flounders frantically once again.
What sort of line weight is that guy sporting? With the assistance of the ambitious fisherman, Gilgamesh rises to the surface along with the line of laundry. He continues to splay and struggle, sputtering and crying out in dismay. He can't swim to save his own life. Where's Baywatch when you need it?
The old coot struggles, determined to not be defeated this time. "I...will not...yield to you, foul demon!" His fishing pole had been specially reinforced for this occasion. He was prepared! He could not fail! But though his weapon would not snap, inch by inch his heels were being dragged closer to the end of the pier. "No...I've come this far...!" At last, he's forced to relinquish his weapon to the waters, just in time for some manner of creature to rise up unassisted. "It's..." So many arms, this isn't a human, this is a monster! And listen to it howling in anger!! "Monster! MONSTER! THERE'S A MONSTER OFF THE PIER! EVERYONE INSIDE!" How quick we are to give up on our dreams.
Enter the Butz. (On second thought, don't.) That...was one wild trip, and Butz has actually travelled the Cleft before. What the heck just happened? What WAS all of that crap? He isn't given much time to ponder this once spat out of The Space Between (meanwhile, Anne McCaffrey's lawyers get busy working on a lawsuit), as he finds himself being used as an impromptu floating device. "That's not--" Burble. "How you--" Gurgle. Stay afloat. Gilgamesh isn't listening, so he'll just have to do this the hard way. Wrenching himself free from Gilgamesh's grasp (a feat made slightly easier by the frantic flailing), he ties the laundry line around his companion's waist from underwater, and tows him the rest of the way to shore with a manly sidestroke. Oh, how the women would swoon at such heroic antics! ...That is, if they weren't all huddling terrified in their houses right now behind barred doors. At last, he stumbles onto shore, drags Gil on his back away from the water, and proceeds to flop down on his own back to pant.
Anyone else would have been killed by all of these closely interspaced feats of athletics. "...What the hell...just happened?", he all he can muster.
There are monsters in the water?! That doesn't still his flailing in the least! But at least Butz is there for daring do! Gilgamesh doesn't surrender his struggling until the shore is in easy sight, then he just goes deadweight out of relief, trailing bubbles like some poorly-designed jet ski. When his feet brush the sandy shelf, he nearly gets a chance to haul Butz the rest of the way to shore, rushing up through the water as he does. Luckily for the young hero, there's just enough slack on the laundry line that he isn't towed facefirst into the beach.
However, Gilgamesh does a fine impression of an ostrich, pressing his face into the sand and kissing it gladly. And summarily choking and sputtering. "I'm safe," he bawls. "I thought I was gonna DIE!" Oh, he's just pitiful sometimes. At least he's not a blubbering giant now.
Eventually, he does calm down and rubs at his glowing white eyes. Snf. What happened? "We got sucked in to the Dimensional Interval!" Duh. "It's a little busted," he mumbles miserably. You can't believe all the trouble that's caused him. "Butz. BUTZ! YOU SAVED ME!" Run, Butz. Run or you're going to get hugged again.
Hope you remembered to untie that laundry line.
Urrrgh. There are few people in this world enough to make Butz consider them something as derisive as a 'big baby', but Gilgamesh falls squarely on his shortlist. If nothing else, this is unquestionably the one he knows. These antics are inarguably one of a kind. "We weren't...that far from the shore.", he interjects through a gasp for air.
More words. Oh, right. The answer to his question, he had already managed to forget asking. "Interval...?" He takes him a moment to grasp it, and only because he's one of the few who has the proper context to make sense of it. Oh, and the t-shirt from his own visit. "Oh, the Cleft." Slowly sitting up, he begins swatting at the sand in his hair. ...Pause. "Uh, how did we end up there? And what happened after your fight with Necroph--" Unfortunately, Butz is considered flat footed while prone and does not get his dexterity bonus to AC. "Waugh!! Can't...breathe...!"
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the shred of rational thought in the back of Butz's mind is screaming from all the insane, loosely interconnected events of the past thirty minutes. Fortunately, that scream is hard to hear over the scream of the rest of his brain (and lungs) for oxygen!
No time for a trip down memory lane! Gilgamesh rubs the rest of his tears and snot on Butz's shirt as he rubs his face there and then slides away to sit back on the beach in a wet, miserable heap. He feels better now. Instantly, he sits up, white eyes round as saucers, "Butz! You are here! If you got in, maybe Gilgamesh can get out!" He just needs to find where Butz entered. He narrows his eyes shrewdly and looks off in the distance, stroking that little tuft of a soulpatch. "Now if I can only convince him to tell me..." he thinks aloud.
With the gears practically turning inside of Gilgamesh's mouth, it's hard not to see where this is going. Of course, of more pressing concern is the state of Butz's poor tunic. Man. Shera was *so nice* and she cleaned up his tunic the last time it was ruined and everything. Now it's waterlogged with saltwater and snot. ;_; Man, he's going to need a camp fire to clean up soon, and the thought of Gilgamesh near fire is terrifying.
Oh, right. Gil's train of thought jumping the tracks and plowing determinedly toward civillians. "Hate to break it to you, but I was just randomly dropped here a few months ago. And...well, things don't really make sense to me either." How to put this. "Like...Faris, you remember her, right? Well, she's been here ten years apparently, and she's now in her thirties. The Faris I knew was in her twenties and I saw her right before being yanked here."
Butz does not expect Gilgamesh to follow this at all. As it stands, he himself barely does. With this thought in mind, he resolutely plops back down onto his back in preparation for what must come next.
...poor Junon will never be the same.