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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years ago

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The King’s Dumu Lugal Pt 10 (CasGil, Hakuno, Siduri, CasCu)

Previously: One, Two, Three, Four, Five , Six, Seven, Eight, Nine

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Ur liked watching him work.

Each time the sharpened scalpel like writing instrument chiseled away another bit of Cuneiform, Gilgamesh found that his son would reach out. Perhaps he wanted to write his own letters to the people. Maybe he simply wanted to stick the writing instrument into his mouth and chew on it. Whatever the case was, Gilgamesh found himself signing the documents for two.

King Gilgamesh and First Prince Ur-Nungal.

The first time the words had been inscribed upon one of the tablets, he had needed to take a moment. He needed to admire the look of it.

First prince.

It offered so many meanings. Perhaps there would be a first princess, a second prince, a whole collection of children. If there were children, then that meant that there was a blushing and prideful bride, one of whom he had bore so many children with.

There would be a great deal of celebrating going on in Uruk as these tablets were read aloud.

The great king had a son. The first prince was alive and he was with his father, writing to them of all the universe.

Siduri would weep.

His mother would be beside herself in need of seeing her grandson.

“Abum!”

“Is there something wrong?” Gilgamesh glanced down once more, finding his son pouting.

“Ah~! Ah!”

“This has a sharp end. Your mother would have my head if she saw me allow you to use this.” The woman gave him cloth made toys mostly. He had no doubt in his mind that even a slightly blunt object would be met with outrage from his precious wife.

Wife… That word gave him pause.

Hakuno had never agreed to be his wife, not fully. There were no vows, no confession and pledges of eternal loyalty. Their son was their bond, but she still shied away from him. The fact that there were so few things tying his woman to his side left a great deal to be concerned with. Perhaps that had been what had bothered her this morning.

He and his son moved to the living room area as Ur needed to have himself changed and cleaned up. His son settled amongst his toys and blankets, happily beginning to wave the toys around as Gilgamesh sent off his tablets into the Gates of Babylon and off to Uruk. A collection of new tablets came in their place, leaving him to begin reading.

There was no such thing as a domestic life for Hakuno. She had no simple time where she could lounge with their son properly and lose track of time. Each second that she was here, she was on a clock with the Chaldeans. She would be running errands or bringing him food or tending to those who had been injured. There was always something around the corner that the woman needed to worry about and the fact that she had to spend so much time fretting about the next task that she had coming left there little time for his son to get proper attention.

“Abum!”

His tablets were abandoned, his attention returning to the boy entirely. His mouth pressed to his son’s belly, blowing raspberries- or rather, loud lip wagging noises into his son’s belly- resulting in an eruption of giggles and squeals.

The priceless first prince, Ur-Nungal was going to be spoiled to the very tips of his toes when he was able to go to Uruk. If not by the people, then by Siduri alone.

He could hardly forget when Siduri’s husband had passed, leaving her all alone in the world. She had wanted kids, opting for hounding him to give her princes and princesses to spoil instead.

“Oh oh.”

Gil glanced down, noting his son’s pause.

Following that attention, he laughed.

The toy that had been nearby had ripped. It seemed his son’s strength was far greater than the typical child’s. Not only had the toy ripped, cotton had come flying out, decorating the floor.

“…It would seem that you killed it.”

Ur’s face scrunched. He could see those eyes turn to him, the wobbling lower lip and the scrunched eyes giving warning just before he found his son’s piercing wail echoing in the living room.

“Shhhhh,” Gilgamesh lifted the boy, attempting to hand him any other toy in the room. There had to be another to his liking. The sheer number alone made it evident that there were other favorites. He tried the ones that were clearly made by Hakuno. He tried some of the ones from his youth. He tried the blanket. He tried the strange stopper for his son’s mouth. Any and everything he had available was attempted.

The wails continued.

While he could repair a small seam, he could not fix this toy.

Did they have someone here at Chaldea that could fix this thing? Perhaps that vampire fellow, but didn’t he drink blood or some such nonsense? That wouldn’t do. He needed to watch Ur but the toy…

Siduri could fix it.

If he sent the toy through the gates, it would come back tomorrow with new tablets, but… that would not help with the interim. His son was still wailing his lungs out and his voice would soon grow hoarse. Perhaps…

Well, perhaps a small visit.

He could go to the rayshift, shift over with his son and the toy, present the toy for repairs, and then come back. Hakuno was clearly occupied with her own work-

Hakuno had made the toy.

It would stand to reason that-

Ur was still wailing.

While Hakuno could fix it, he could use the opportunity in Uruk as a chance to get a crib for their son and to check in on Uruk. His son was meant to be in Uruk anyway. An hour in Uruk would not hurt anything. If anything, his son would appreciate being home.

He changed Ur into robes more fitting for this trip, wiping at tears and attempting here and there to get his son to cease his tears.

They hurried to the command room, grabbing that foolish Caster, Cu Chulainn, on their way.

The man was only too happy to remove the loudest, most abhorring sound in all of Chaldea from the premises. He promised to remain until called upon to bring them back as well.

Uruk formed around him and his son a moment later.

He stood just at the foot of the stairs to his palace, looking up at the glory that was his kingdom. Frozen in the midst of a singularity and moment in time, the kingdom was no longer fully functioning in the span of time, but the people and the problems and benefits of this world were still going. Like gears still turning in a clock with no hands, Uruk worked evermore.

The wailing of his son was garnering the attention of those around him. Giving a proud smile, Gilgamesh held up his son.

“My son has a broken toy.”

The response was immediate. The cheers and the excitement of those around the palace plaza had others escaping their homes and leaving their vending. All were coming forth to see the crying child, cooing and cheering the young boy so much that the tears were paused.

This was new, after all.

A child who had seen no more than two, perhaps three adults at one time was now seeing a mob. The boy’s red eyes blinked up at them all, his hands being lightly touched only for him to burst into a smile. He had his mother’s smile.

“King Gilgamesh!”

Gilgamesh glanced back, seeing the rush of green fabrics coming down the stairs. The veil and the hood were falling from her person, fluttering away in the wind as her brown hair came loose. She didn’t pay it a single mind. He could see it already, the desperation, the need to see her closest acquaintance’s son. Siduri didn’t pause a bit as she pushed her way around the people and came to his side.

Her hands pressed to her mouth, her eyes growing to the size of moons.

“M-m-my k-k-k-king!”

“Would you like to hold him?”

Siduri fell to her knees. The sight of tears brimming those eyes was worth a thousand wails from his son. He couldn’t help the chuckle that came, moving to his own knees as well so he could safely place his son in his attendant’s arms.

Her dark eyes met Ur’s gentle gaze, the tears were falling heavily.

“…My king…. My king, he’s the most beautiful baby boy that I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Ur reached up, his hand pressing to her cheek. He was wiping at her tears, Gil found, that patient gaze bringing forth only more rivers down his poor attendant’s cheeks.

“Continue about your day,” Gilgamesh bid his people. “My queen will come soon enough. She is away still, but I felt I needed to bring my son out. He should know his people.”

A few more pats came to his back, but the people were smiling as well to Siduri.

“You are beautiful,” Siduri murmured. “You are the most beautiful little man. You will end up making your father green with envy over you.”

“Don’t spoil him too much.”

The woman waved him off with a warning look, as though she were a rank higher than she was.

“Siduri, we did not come to be indulged today. We came because of this.” He held out the toy from his gates, showing it to the woman.

“What is it?”

“A toy. Apparently, my son’s only favorite amongst his collection.”

Ur was already looking at it, his eyes beginning to brim with tears again as he caught sight of the tear. When Siduri held it, his son emitted another sob, beginning to shake.

“I have some sewing supplies in my chambers,” Siduri told him. “I would be honored to repair it.”

“I also have need of a small cradle for my son. He’s too young to do much meandering, but my bed is feeling rather full with both him and my Hakuno.”

“Hakuno?”

“My queen.”

Siduri nodded, once more alight with excitement. “I cannot wait to see her, my king. She must be ill if she is not with you today.”

“Let’s not take long.”

Ur was returned, although he did note that Siduri seemed reluctant to let him go from her arms. Her gaze drifted over that face, a small and adoring smile fixed into place upon her lips.

Then they were hurrying. Up the stairs, pausing at the doors so that the guards could enjoy the sight that was his son, then into the palace. His son looked around in fascination, his hands reaching for everything. He squirmed and twisted, making sounds and saying abum more times than was needed.

“We’ll be in the audience chamber,” Gilgamesh told her simply.

He had to let Ur down.

His son caught sight of the lions and a squeal erupted from him. The moment that Gilgamesh had him on his feet, he was waddling, his arms grabbing the nearest beast and hugging it.

Another one of the lions nipped the back of his robes, pulling him onto their front paws and beginning to lick his hair.

“KISCHIES!”

Ah, but he did have kitties, didn’t he?

Gilgamesh found himself smirking, settling upon his throne and watching his son pet the various lions around him and be licked into a tussled state. His mother would no doubt have been panicking, worried over such beasts…

But then again the sphinxes were far larger. He had his doubts.

The servants came to see, as did his advisors. More of the guards who were switching rotations much faster today were rushing into the audience chamber. They would near the boy, but, with him around his lions, they could do no more than admire and coo to him. His son merely glanced their way, motioning and telling them ‘kischies’.

A boy so much like himself, they drawled, admiring him to their fullest.

It was a good thing that Hakuno cared and devoted so much time to their son, introducing him to the Chaldeans.

Sitting in his audience chamber and watching his son being admired like a new statue was a good reminder that there were few that would not be intimidated by his son’s stature. Many would hear prince and become fearful, deciding against playing with him or, even worse, opting to try to leave a bad impression of him in other’s minds. There were the dangers of manipulation of the boy’s developing mind. There were dangers of him becoming overly indulgent upon the servants.

Later on, once their time here was completed, he would have to inquire with Hakuno about her child-rearing strategy.

“My king!”

Siduri waved the toy in her hands, drawing the immediate attention of Ur.

“Ah!”

One of the lions was going for his arm as Ur climbed hurriedly to his feet. The boy was starting to waddle towards Siduri. He wouldn’t-

The boy turned, raising a hand and blasting the lion back with a burst of unfocused mana. The lion rolled back, hitting one of the potted plants before Ur was turning to Siduri and trying to rush over to her.

He stumbled, just short, being caught only by the fearful and awed attendant.

“Ah!” Ur grabbed his toy from the woman’s hand, letting himself lean against Siduri’s embrace. The boy’s mouth pressed to the cloth, echoing a series of kisses he’d seen Hakuno give her son.

His son did magecraft.

Effectively, he noted, seeing the lion slowly sit up and try to gather its bearings. The other lions were settling in, their eyes watching Ur more warily now.

He would not be stopped, they knew. What they had received had been an effective warning not to keep him tempered.

“King Gilgamesh,” Siduri looked over at him, her eyes still wide from what had transpired.

A small chuckle escaped him.

The small chuckle grew into a quiet laugh.

The quiet laugh grew louder, his head falling back a little as he flew to his feet.

“Siduri! My son is immaculate!”

The woman nodded, agreeing no doubt because the boy had proven himself at under a year to be more effective at magecraft than the apsu were upon entrance into their studies into the practices of healing. None of them would have been able to create such a blast against his lions. None, but his son could.

The child of a mage and a mage king.

Ur-Nungal would be a grand caster. He would be a grand mage, far surpassing Gudako herself when he was to his adulthood.

He scooped his son up, proud to see those red eyes turn to him and the title of abum come forth as his son proudly called him father once more. The sense of excitement and adrenaline, of the need to show his son to every single man, woman, and child in this kingdom ran thick through his veins. There would be time for such things. In time, he would have everything he wanted.

“The cradle is in the process of being built,” Siduri told him.

“Leave it in my chambers. I will retrieve it for my other chambers in due time.” He pulled the communication device from his pocket. “Ur and I must return before my woman worries.”

“She doesn’t know?”

“Is that a problem?”

Siduri laughed, the sound music to his ears. “My king, if she is like any mother, she will no doubt be livid that you did not give her the opportunity to let her see everyone admire her baby boy just as you were given the opportunity to do today. I’ll have some butter cake left in the cradle for her. I’m sure she must wish to indulge in some sweets.”

“Thank you, Siduri.”

“It is my job and my honor to do so.” Her smile was only brighter as she looked to his son. “…I knew you would have a beautiful baby, my king. I really hope you bring your Hakuno and him back quickly. I want to be able to help teach him words.”

He pat her head gently before connecting with Cu Caster.

The palace vanished, leaving his son and him standing once more in the rayshift.

“She’s right you know,” Cu spoke up form the control room. “Hakuno’s going to be pissed when she finds out you were toting that little guy into a singularity.”

“It is an old singularity and there were no threats.”

The celt snorted. “Right. So you weren’t panicking there when the lion was going after him?”

“Don’t tell Hakuno about that.”

“King, I didn’t even know Hakuno had a brat until you came yanking me from my afternoon of runes to sit around and watch your dumb ass go presenting your son like a trophy through your kingdom. Beats hearin’ him cry though.” The man leaned in, smiling away at Ur. “You’re damned cute though. Must get it from your mom-AH!”

Ur pinched his nose.

“That’s my boy,” Gil praised, watching the Celt shift back and rub at the spot.

“His fingers are like pinchers.”

“He’s quite a strong mage.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

That earned him a smack.

Ur giggled at the sight, his arms waving in the air a moment before he almost dropped the toy he had.

They returned to Hakuno’s chambers a few minutes before the woman came in herself. From head to foot, there was dirt, splotched and coating her hair and clothes. He held himself back from any kind of embrace, opting instead to hold Ur.

“There was a problem with some piping downstairs. There was a lot of dirt from the mountainside that got in.” She shivered as she motioned towards the bathroom. ”I’m going to clean up and then we can start thinking about dinner. Was Ur good?”

“Ur was fine,” Gil replied, watching the woman slowly undressing. “We enjoyed the many tasks of being a king today.”

#drabble #drabbles

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johnnyclash87 · 6 years ago

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Soo I started writing my first fic/original work..

I randomly started writing it last night after a couple Old Fashions. This is just the first part and obviously I just put it together over just a combined few hours between last night and this morning. Plus developing original characters. Obviously it’s set in the time of the Empire. And if it seems good I might keep adding to it and continue writing.

This is literally the first time I’ve ever done this so I have mixed feelings about it all. I guess we’ll see. Here it is, the first part............

An alarm sounded. Nothing to be overly concerned about. Just an alert that Glee Anselm was coming within range of the ship. A ship that unlike most ships, it’s owner, Onna Saretti hadn’t named.

How did anyone name a ship in the first place? Was there a list of available ship names? What happens if you run into another ship with the same name?

Onna put all questions aside and refocused. He checked the monitors, his reflection mirrored in the metal. Mirialan tattoos on a Zabrak face. The tattoos were from his mother, the face, well at least the horns, were from his father.

The ship and its course were perfectly fine. Now to review the job.

Escort a shipment of relief supplies to a devastated planet....Simple enough.

...Through Hut controlled hyperspace. Not so simple.

That wasn’t even the most interesting part though . The pay was comparatively low for such a risky mission. Not that Onna was the greedy type or cared that much for money in the first place. But still, it was strange for anyone to hire out for something so dangerous with so little pay and expect anyone to accept it. Perhaps this client didn’t understand just how hard this would be. Or, more likely, they couldn’t afford to offer anymore.

Which, for good or ill, was probably why Onna accepted the offer in the first place.

The ship came out of hyperspace within view of Glee Anselm. Now was the time to check and double check his identification and credentials. Glee Anselm and it’s inhabitants, the Nautolans, was loyal to the Empire. And with his yellow skin, horns and black geometric facial tattoos, Onna was just the sort that a bored Stormtrooper would need to “randomly search”. Of course more often, when he did get stopped by an Imperial Trooper, no matter how many IDs he had, or documents, they still just had to make sure everything checked out, which meant a trip to a detention center and calls to people that just happened to not be available today and searching through very lengthy databases. Still, it was better to just have his papers ready. Worse comes to worse he could always just escape.

Everything was in order and ready. Now to make his decent through the planets atmosphere and make his landing. Shortly Glee Anselms enormous oceans came into view. Onna steered his ship toward one of the few large land masses to make his landing. Fortunately he found a public landing pad near one of Glee Anselms many tourist destinations. That should help avoid suspicion and give him an excuse for being there.

Onna set the ships security systems, checked his gear and documents one more time and departed to rendezvous with his client. Glee Anselms reputation as a vacation spot was well earned. It’s oceans looked like liquid sapphire and the sun was comfortingly warm. Just outside the landing pad, Onna was already confronted by vendors, selling everything from frozen intoxicating beverages to hand held fans.

“WATER WATER CLEAN WATER! ONE CREDIT”

“GOOD FOOD! GOOD PRICE!”

Drowning out all the shouting was several different sources of loud upbeat music. One of them a group of what looked like adolescents dancing, as people dropped currency into a box nearby. As tempting it was to go watch and make a donation, maybe even join in the dance, Onna had a job to do.

The cantina he was meant to meet his client was within walking distance. It was also crowded with tourists from different planets and species. Which was good, because it meant he would blend in better. He found a seat at the bar.

Of course one didn’t just waltz into a place and announce “Hello! Did anyone hire a mercenary for a potentially illegal job?” There was a code or password. In this case, Onnas signal to his client that he had arrived was a very specific and unusual drink order.

“Rancor’s breath. Easy on the syrup, one and a half shot of liquor, make it hot”. The bartender looked at Onna confused, but had no intention of asking questions.

“Must be a Zabrak thing”, she muttered as she grabbed a glass and prepared his drink. Now to just wait for the client to give their signal.

“There are easier ways to make yourself suffer you know. And cheaper.”

Onna turned to the source of the voice on his right. A Nautolan, green skin, large black eyes and tentacles bound together in the back of his head.

“Well, might as well do it in style I suppose” Onna accepted the drink from the bartender and paid her.

“I’m Lio'lib” the Nautolan spoke cautiously. Now he had a name for his client.

“I have somewhere more private for us to go” Lio stood up and turned. If he was trying to be inconspicuous, he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. Luckily they weren’t the only people in the cantina behaving strangely. Onna suspected the bar staff and patrons were used to it.

Onna followed through the maze of tables through a singe door onto a mid size porch open to the outside. Multiple pairs of chairs were placed about with tables between them. And a canopy hung half way between the floor; just enough to provide some shade.

Lio sat down at one of the chairs and Onna followed suit.

“Names Onna.”

“Well, thanks for coming Onna. I’m glad you took my job”. Onna wasn’t quite sure, but Lio sounded fairly young and maybe a bit nervous.

“So I’m not exactly used to this whole black market thing. I guess I tell you about the job and we get started?”

“About that.” Onna took a sip of his drink. Surprisingly not terrible. “You do realize that what you’re offering for this kind of work isn’t exactly up to expectations right? You almost might as well asked to do it for free.”

“Oh. Right. Well.. the job isn’t quite what I advertised.”

As unconcerned with money Onna was, he got a little hopeful. Ships don’t repair themselves or for free after all.

“Are you paying more?” Maybe the low offer was to attract only committed people.

“Oh no. Well that depends on some uncontrollable factors. I mean the actual job.” Lio paused a lot, as if he was trying to think of the right word. Onna got a bit nervous himself now. It wasn’t uncommon for details on a mission to change but he still didn’t relish not knowing exactly what was happening or expected.

“We’re not taking relief supplies anywhere.” Lois voice quickened.

“We’re breaking into an Imperial Facility”

“Uhh..”

“And stealing something.”

#my post #star wars #star wars headcanons #star wars fanfiction #star wars original character #star wars oc #lio and onna #fanfiction #fanfic #star wars original trilogy #age of empire #galactic empire #writing #my fic #a new hope

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paegger-christgantenbein · 3 years ago

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Entrance Transition

whatever kind of building or building complex you are making, you have a rough position for its major entrances—the gateways to the site from main gateways (53) ; the entrances to individual buildings from family of entrances (102), main entrance (lio). In every case, the entrances create a transition between the "outside"—the public world—and some less public inner world. If you have half-hidden gardens (ill) the gardens help to intensify the beauty of the transition. This pattern now elaborates and reinforces the transition which entrances and gardens generate.Buildings, and especially houses, with a graceful transition between the street and the inside, are more tranquil than those which open directly off the street.The experience of entering a building influences the way you feci inside the building. If the transition is too abrupt there is no feeling of arrival, and the inside of the building fails to be an inner sanctum.

The following argument may help to explain it. While people are on the street, they adopt a style of "street behavior." When they come into a house they naturally want to get rid of this street behavior and settle down completely into the more intimate spirit appropriate to a house. But it seems likely that they cannot do this unless there is a transition from one to the other which helps them to lose the street behavior. The transition must, in effect, destroy the momentum of the closedness, tension and "distance" which are appropriate to street behavior, before people can relax completely.

Evidence comes from the report by Robert Weiss and Serge Boutcrline, Fairs, Exhibits, Pavilions, and their Audiences, Cambridge, Mass., 1962. The authors noticed that many exhibits failed to "hold" people; people drifted in and then drifted out again within a very short time. However, in one exhibit people had to cross a huge, deep-pile, bright orange carpet on the way in. In this case, though the exhibit was no better than other exhibits, people stayed. The authors concluded that people were, in general, under the influence of their own "street and crowd behavior, 3 ' and that while under this influence could not relax enough to make contact with the exhibits. But the bright carpet presented them with such a strong contrast as they walked in, that it broke the effect of their outside behavior, in effect "wiped them clean," with the result that they could then get absorbed in the exhibit.

Michael Christiano, while a student at the University of California, made the following experiment. He showed people photographs and drawings of house entrances with varying degrees of transition and then asked them which of these had the most "houseness." He found that the more changes and transitions a house entrance has, the more it seems to be ' 'houselike." And the entrance which was judged most houselike of all is one which is approached by a long open sheltered gallery from which there is a view into the distance.

There is another argument which helps to explain the importance of the transition: people want their house, and especially the entrance, to be a private domain. If the front door is set back, and there is a transition space between it and the street, this domain is well established. This would explain why people are often unwilling to go without a front lawn, even though they do not "use it." Cyril Bird found that 90 per cent of the inhabitants of a housing project said their front gardens, which were some 20 feet deep, were just right or even too small—yet only 15 per cent of them ever used the gardens as a place to sit. ("Reactions to Radburn: A Study of Radburn Type Housing, in Heme! Hempstead," RIBA Anal thesis, i960.)

So far we have spoken mainly about houses. But we believe this pattern applies to a wide variety of entrances. It certainly applies to all dwellings including apartments—even though it is usually missing from apartments today. It also applies to those public buildings which thrive on a sense of seclusion from the world: a clinic, a jewelry store, a church, a public library. It does not app]y to public buildings or any buildings which thrive on the fact of being continuous with the public world.

As you see from these examples, it is possible to make the transition itself in many different physical ways. In some cases, for example, it may be just inside the front door—a kind of entry court, leading to another door or opening that is more definitely inside. In another case, the transition may be formed by a bend in the path that takes you through a gate and brushes past the fuchsia on the way to the door. Or again, you'might create a transition by changing the texture of the path, so that you step oft the sidewalk onto a gravel path and then up a step or two and under a trellis.

In all these cases, what matters most is that the transition exists, as an actual physical place, between the outside and the inside, and that the view, and sounds, and light, and surface which you walk on change as you pass through this place. It is the physical changes—and above all the change of view— which creates the psychological transition in your mind.

Therefore:

Make a transition space between the street and the front door. Bring the path which connects street and entrance through this transition space, and mark it with a change of light, a change of sound, a change of direction, a change of surface, a change of level, perhaps by gateways which make a change of enclosure, and above all with a change of view.

A Pattern Language

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