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Twilight Sparkle      Preparations for the visit from the King of All That Is have been going on pretty much since Twilight Sparkle extended the invitation. Truth is that the Royal Sisters were not all that certain about having a visit from such an apparently abrasive and seemingly arrogant figure, but as the invitation had already been extended they couldn't withdraw it.

     The location chosen for the banquet was the great ball room usually used for the Grand Galloping Gala. It is a huge room linked to the Canterlot Castle, the capital of Equestria. Those who have never been to Equestria before may find it surprising that...there are no humans or other humanoids that seem to be native to this land. Everywhere one looks there are only the colorful ponies. In Canterlot many of them wear clothes that one might expect of a high class population. Flowing gowns and fancy suits are everywhere, though just as common are ponies without clothing at all other than perhaps a hat or some other accessory.

     Those attending the banquet are directed to the main door of the Gala Room, and must pass several ponies dressed in the golden armor of the Royal Guard to get through the doors. The guards are very visible, probably to discourage troublemakers, and actually carry spears.

     Within the Gala room, several large tables have been set up in a square pattern, all of the finest wood polished to a perfect shine and with gold accents and artful designs. The main table is easily identified by the two obvious thrones at its head, one of which is colored in white and gold and the other in midnight blue and obsidian. Beside them is a third throne of the same design but with natural wood tones and gold inlays. This is the seat for the guest of honor.

     Other honored guests are also seated at this table, such as friends of the crown and leaders of other nations or factions. Other tables are set up for other guests, but the only real difference in design is that the chairs are smaller. The room is set up so that conversation between anyone who attends should not be difficult, meaning all the chairs are facing the same direction. It is meant to make everyone who attends feel as equal as possible while still showing who the most prestigious guests are.

     Queens Celestia and Luna are already seated. The two alicorns (winged unicorns) are occupying their appropriate thrones, and Twilight is sitting on their right while Gilgamesh's chair is on their left. There is plenty of noise as people pile in, though there are not nearly enough chairs for the amount of ponies trying to attend.
Mortimer Balman      Fortunately for Mortimer, the sheer size of the Royal Palace means even someone of his size can fit through everywhere with ease. Makes his life easy when he's visiting in a humanoid form. He'd heard of Gilgamesh's visit.. And he was going to attend, since the invitation was open for him. He does not care for this self-proclaimed 'King of Heroes' nor his attitude. As such, he is largely showing up to see to it that if Gilgamesh causes trouble, someone is there to find their boots new lodging in the king's royal ass. Or y'know try, he has no idea how he'd hold up against the man in a fight. Nor does he care, of course.

     The royal guards are given proper salutes and brief soldierly banter before Mortimer makes his way inside, with Roll in tow, because he had promised the little delibird the next time he visited the palace she could say hi to her Queens. She loved them- much as she loves everyone, really- and wanted to offer them the best fish she had caught. Truly one of the ideal subjects.

     Once the old badger has made his way into the main dining hall, he and his compatriot will kneel before the Queens and greet them cordially. Roll will pull a massive tuna out of her tail pouch- how she even caught something that outweighs her by a few hundred kilograms is anyone's guess- and either give it to a servant or put it away upon presentation. And then they will take their seats and /mingle/.

     If at all possible Roll will probably try to hug both queens. And everyone else in attendance, for that matter.
Staren     Fancy dress events happen just rarely enough that Staren mostly doesn't bother having fancy dress clothes. Sure, his LABSCORCHER'S WHITECOAT can transform into fancy clothes, but he also has no idea what looks good, and Rarity's been busy the whole time since he heard about this event, so he hasn't had a chance to comission something from her.

    So, he does the same thing he did last time (the Neuroi Girl's trial) and falls back on a uniform. It's blue, and vaguely military or perhaps police, with a button-up shirt and slacks with a clear crease in them, and military-style boots. He's added a long coat of the same color because he's fairly sure that looks good -- The overall effect at a glance is not unlike an Amestris military uniform, although the details are all different -- there are patches for the Lazlo Defense Force Tactical Response Unit, the Union Elite Forces, the Wings of Nemesis, and the Concord, and a couple of old campaign ribbons from the Union days and of course, a single small medal for taking part in the defeat of Discord.

    And clashing, perhaps, with the whole military aesthetic, is a single item of jewelry -- he may not have clothes made by Rarity but he does have this, and he wouldn't want to offend her by /not/ bringing it to such a high-society gathering -- an opal pendant set in ornately decorated silver, hanging from a leather-and-wire thong around his neck.

    He's not sure what he thinks of Gilgamesh anymore, but he thinks anyone taking an interest in Equestria -- this Equestria, anyway -- is kind of his business. He may not have been really involved with anything other than the Discord conflict and defending against some of Nightmare Moon's holiday terrorism, but there was a time in his life when he found peace and acceptance here he couldn't find elsewhere, and he will never forget that.

    Staren has arrived with Twilight and endeavored to get the seat next to her, although he doesn't actually have any political clout if it's ended up assigned to someone else. He greets her with a hug and a kiss, but the focus of his nervous attention so far has been Gilgamesh. He is, perhaps, more than a little worried that someone who claims sovereignity over all existence might cause... issues.
Klasi Stryde Klasi Stryde is wearing one of his finest suit-vests, as clean as it could be, which is rather nice for a man from a ruined world. The brunette's vest is black with a white unjdershirt, which looks pretty good on him, as he walks confidently past the guards. No reason to think he's not welcome, because, well, he just doesn't think about it.

Klasi Stryde had heard about 'ponies', which he has no idea what they are, but was told he could get one. Or at least, that's how he interpreted the sarcastic statement. He's not here to get a pony, though, because apparently they're people! Instead, because they're rich and fancy and having a feast. And that means, in his mind, that they have meat. The magical rich person food that Klasi has never tasted.

He's going to be so disappointed.

So, once he reaches the seats, Klasi confidently takes a seat and acts like he belongs. He has no idea how to interact in front of royalty, so he doesn't. The fact that they're big quadrupedal creatures with horns is super weird though. Maybe they're aliens? Maybe they'll do something bad, like eat all of the humans' brains?

It is a very lucky thing that Klasi isn't voicing his thoughts. He'd come off as really rude and dumb.
Gilgamesh      For a brief thirty seconds upon entering the realm, Gilgamesh was a gleaming golden alicorn.

     That stopped about as soon as he noticed that he was walking on all fours like an animal.

     He's still gleaming, though. He shines like the sun. No, not like the sun; the sun only produces light. Gilgamesh does not produce light. Rather he radiates glory. He radiates imperiousness as a concept. He radiates Authority. The King of Heroes is a thing that is glorious just by existing, a beating heart of divinity and power and /majesty/. His boast of being perfect is not a lie; there is something almost machine-made about him, something too perfect, too symmetrical, too flawless to have been made by the old-fashioned process of biological life. He has no scars despite countless adventures. His face is perfectly symmetrical, red eyes the color of blood staring out from above a flawless nose and perfect lips. Blonde hair like spun gold hangs from his head.

     He is not dressed in anything fancy. And yet wearing nothing so much as a black coat, a white sweater, gold earrings, and beige dress pants, the King of Heroes seems more formal than if he had worn the finest of tuxedos. The threads of his clothing seem finer in his presence, seem /richer/, seem /better/, as if even what he's wearing is made glorious by the fact that it's *him* wearing it.

     He enters, the coat flowing about him like a cape, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a goblet of something. Watching him walk is like watching something inhuman move through a room - it's too perfect, too graceful. Even casually no motions are wasted, no muscles spent idly. Humans don't /move/ like that. Humans don't /walk/ like that. He passes through the people without a word, taking it for granted that they'll dote upon him. And why not? He is the King, and the King is Gilgamesh. He doesn't even look at anyone as he walks; it's like everything in the room is a distant, meaningless nothing to him, something he's barely even aware of. The look in his eyes is distant. The smell of the alcohol in the goblet is radiant. Divine. Literally divine, not adjectivally divine; whatever he's drinking could not have been brewed by mortal hands.

     He sits. There is a moment where a look crosses his face. It goes away a moment later.

     It might be discomfort.

     In the finest chair they own.

     That's probably not the best sign.

     The King sets his goblet down on the table with a quiet *clink*. It can't help but clink. It's gold, inlaid with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds, probably worth more money than most /anyone in the room/ has seen in /most of their lives/. There's a distinct feeling of magic to it, now that it's out of his hands and that can be separated from the overwhelmingly shimmering aura that *is Gilgamesh*, is the inherent magic of one who is quite factually two-thirds god and one-third man.

     A brief examination reveals that the goblet does not spill. And it produces more of whatever is inside it.

     And it's /solid gold/.

     The King waves a hand, as if saying 'you can begin.'
Priscilla     There is the barest whisper of a breeze through the banquet hall. It is so subtle as to be unnoticed by most, but as the fleeting passage of a ghost, dreadfully cold for something that doesn't exist. It is little more than the flutter of a tablecloth there, a vague sense of unease there, until it becomes Priscilla at the head table, just appearing out of the air, seated right there with Gilgamesh, when all eyes had been turned.

    She has in fact let herself in, and taken her chosen spot without asking. The guards would almost certainly have let her in, but this way is better. It makes a statement. Keeps people on their toes. Demonstrates that she can go wherever she pleases. Unnecessary, perhaps, but it dispenses of the idea that she is here as an ever so thankful guest.

    If she gets a spot near or next to Gilgamesh rather than directly across, it'd at least temper some of the way he stands out, given that her 'personal aura' is more that of frozen air, hushed and still, where the light wanes and things move through a trick of the eye. The only alteration she's made to her 'public image' dress is putting on her rarely worn circlet, so that silver titanite rests more on her horns than on her 'brow', and the odd black stone at its center is pitch dark.

    "Pay no particular mind." she says, perhaps slightly insincerely, at a volume that struggles to escape the table. "I believeth I owe thine guest of honour something to see that he is not . . . unduly treated in this affair. One invitation for another." It's kind of cryptic, but that's what one gets from a thousand year old weirdo. She seems to be watching very intently, looking to each person in turn, in a way that seems unconcerned, but still has a hint of 'go on, make my day' about it.
Twilight Sparkle      Although they respect Mortimer greatly, the Royal Guard are on duty and as such speak only the bare minimum if they speak at all. He mostly gets return salutes and nods of acknowledgement to his banter. Mortimer is offered a place at the royal table, and Staren's request to be seated by Twilight Sparkle is accepted. She hugs Staren in return and blushes at the kiss before smiling happily. "It is good to see you outside of a combat zone, Staren." the purple pony says to him before raising a hoof to wave to Mortimer and giggling as she is hugged by Roll.

     Celestia, the white alicorn sister, seems happy to accept Roll's hug. Luna, the dark blue alicorn, is more reluctant and uncertain though she doesn't stop the little ice bird from hugging her.

     Klasi is given a cursory glance by security but otherwise isn't bothered. The table he is seated at is quickly filling up, and it is obvious that there will be no public seating left available in a few more minutes. The food isn't out yet, so he can salivate over the thoughts of delicious meats for a bit longer.

     Gilgamesh leaves several confused ponies at the warp gate when he appears as an alicorn and then shifts back to human. Alicorns are rare enough, but alicorn visitors are unheard of. His trip to the castle leaves many awed ponies in his wake. The hustle and bustle of the city stops just about everywhere he goes as the ponyfolk stare in amazement, and even in the Gala room it is no different. Security doesn't even think to stop him, and no one addresses him the entire way to his seat.

     When he reaches it, the two queens rise to their feet and offer the regal bows that one might expect from a four-legged, winged creature. One foreleg stretched forward while the other curls beneath them and their wings outstretched. "Greetings, King Gilgamesh." Celestia greets in a kind tone and with a warm smile. Luna looks much less inviting, but nonetheless offers her own words of greeting before they motion to Gilgamesh's chair and retake their own. Both queens notice the momentary discomfort, and Celestia is the one to address it. "Is the chair not to your liking, your majesty?" the pure white pony with the pastel rainbow mane asks.

     The aura that Gilgamesh is emminating is hard to miss, even for the queens, but both try not to show any reaction. However, a slight look of worry crosses both of their faces. Such auras often accompany deceivers, and as such they are on alert even while Celestia offers pleasantries and smiles.

     Twilight is much more dazzled. "...that's him...?" she says quietly to herself, then looks at Staren again before smiling. "Hey, you look nice!" The purple pony is wearing a fancy purple gown that matches her natural color scheme. The queens didn't bother with gowns as usual, just their usual royal jewelry and horseshoes.

     Priscilla's entrance...well, that triggers a security response. After initial surprise and a stereo sound "What in Equestria?!" from the two queens the room starts to fill up with golden armored guards. They surround Priscilla quickly with spears pointed, but once it becomes clear just who has invited herself to the party Celestia raises a hoof and dismisses the guards. They are reluctant to leave, but steadily file out.

     "I believe the only undue treatment would be mistreatment, Lady Priscilla." says Celestia with a somewhat mirthful smile as Luna looks on with a frown. Celestia looks to Luna, who nods lightly before both cast a spell that weaves together from their two horns before hitting Priscilla's chair, transforming it into another throne like Gilgamesh's.
Twilight Sparkle
     Once mostly everyone is seated, Celestia stands once again and claps to get the attention of the room. She smiles warmly to the gathered guests. "Greetings to you all, and thank you for attending this royal banquet in honor of King Gilgamesh. This banquet was arranged so that we might share the harmony and prosperity of our world in the hope of planting the seeds of harmony in the hearts and minds of our guests. However, we expect nothing from our guests except that they enjoy themselves and understand a bit more of our culture and values in Equestria." She smiles to Gilgamesh and Priscilla specifically, then takes a seat again.

     A multitude of server ponies in tuxedoes emerge soon after. The public seating tables are given huge platters of pre-prepared food set at regular intervals. The entrees range from typical salads to individual plates of exquisite deserts and things that look as though they were made in a five-star restaurant.

     The royal table however is given individual plates of the most carefully prepared dishes made with the finest ingredients that the ponies have. As Twilight warned, there is not a speck of meat to be found. It is all vegitarian, though it is still decadent and rich, and it is obvious that the Equestrian cooks take pride in their craft.

     "Now please, everyone enjoy the meal!" Celestia declares cheerfully before she and Luna get things started by taking a few bites of their food. Once the food is all presented the serving ponies start bringing drinks. Those at the royal table are asked what they would like to drink, though all are presented with a crystal flute of the finest champagne that Equestria has to offer. Twilight takes note of the goblet that Gilgamesh brought with him and tilts her head curiously before motioning toward with a forehoof curiously. "King Gilgamesh, may I ask why you brought your own drink?"
Mortimer Balman      Mortimer, for his part, is not dazzled. Not because Gilgamesh is unimpressive- oh no. He's VERY impressive, indeed. But it's.. Strange, to the old soldier. The perfection is more disturbing than it is enticing or awe-inspiring, regardless of how handsome Gilgamesh is. It brings to his mind.. Elves. It brings to mind /Wood Elves/ specifically, that irksome king Thranduil. It brings to mind Eldar as well. Aloof, arrogant.. Perfect. And eager to flaunt that perfection until desperation hits, a voice in the back of his mind says. He's more perturbed by Gilgamesh than awestruck.

     He would of course be remiss to fail to acknowledge that Gilgamesh is indeed a truly gorgeous man, though. And Mort's not even into humans that much.

     The badger gently scruffs his delibird when she starts waddling away to go give Gilgamesh a hug. She's most definitely awestruck but it's more of a childlike innocence than anything else. He is a shiny and pretty person! Woooooow. But she flails a bit when scruffed, "<Bwah! Did I do something wrong?>" "No. Stay sitting here by me, please." "<Awr.. 'Kay.>" And is gently put back into her seat. She's a good girl, does what she's told.

     Huhn. Priscilla's here.. Making an entrance to make a statement. Not one that Mortimer necessarily likes.. But he does trust her not to offend his Queens or insult his home, so he bows his head to her cordially.

     Delibirds are obligate piscivores but Roll is plenty capable of enjoying other foods- she just derivies little to no nutrition from them- and proceeds to hold up her plate to Mort, who loads it with sweet treats. She'll slip bits of fish into it from her tailpouch so she can enjoy it better. "You left the hakarl at home.. Right?" "<Yes!>" "Good girl, when you're done eating you can have some chocolate to put on your fish." "<Yay!>" Roll is an easily pleased creature.

     It takes a bit for Mort to take his eyes off Gilgamesh.. But when he finally can, he sets about procuring a salad and some vegetarian shishkebabs. Even if they don't do meat, these people do kebabs *amazingly* and the garlic and tomatoes are always perfectly roasted mmmm..
Klasi Stryde As all the pleasantries and introductions begin, Klasi smiles and nods. That's so nice! Harmony and prosperity and friendship. That's good stuff. But what's also important is the FEAST. As the food comes out, Klasi's eyes widen, as he begins scanning the table. He wants that, he wants that, he wants that...

And then, as he does so, he realizes something dire. There's no meat. While he doesn't want to start a big commotion, it's definitely something to comment on, as he speaks up. He's polite enough, if also seeming /extremely/ confused. "Uh...excuse me, but where's the meat? I can't find any meat!"

"Aren't you guys supposed to be rich?!"

Even while he says that, though, Klasi moves to grab some vegetarian dishes anyways. It looks so good, especially a rice bowl he spots. Time to eat up!
Gilgamesh      The King nods. There's no bow. There's no kneeling. Gilgamesh neither bows nor kneels to foreign royalty. He is a King; he presents himself as such, full of pride. It's probably the fastest way to realize that, no, there's nothing deceptive about him; he's much too *proud* to be a liar. He's much too...*intense*.

     That aura is for real. That's a real-ass demigod.

     Priscilla's presence prompts an earnest smile from the King. It's a little bit wry, but it's definitely a smile. "Far be it from the King of Heroes to deny pleasant company," he says. As she's given a seat next to him, he's clearly substantially more pleased than he was a moment ago. He picks up his drink and takes another sip. "It is as splendid to see you as ever. You look spectacular."

     Even the smell of it is intoxicating.

     If the King notices the wary looks, he doesn't say anything. When he's asked if there's a problem with the chair, he simply smiles and shakes his head. "No, no." The tone is...sort of like he finds something quaint and funny? It's not really *insulting*, per se. It's like...it's like it's /expected/. It's probably not that surprising; he thinks he is, and apparently has /good claim to being/, God-King of Everything. There's probably just a wire being crossed.

     "It's simply been some time since I sat in something wooden."

     The King takes a cut of the food. He eats, and his face is neutral as he does so, occasionally taking a sip from his ludicrously fancy magic goblet. There's a sort of distance in his eyes. It might be judgment, it might be thought. It might be something else. It's hard to determine what's going on in those red eyes - they're beautiful, alluring, but have that same nonhuman quality as the rest of him, that inscrutable divinity, that *ineffability*.

     It's a sense that he doesn't belong in the world.

     Not just Equestria, but /any/ world. He seems more /real/ than the world, more /real/ than the things around him. They look...fake...compared to him. Like his mere existence is at war with the world to continue existing. It's a godly quality, a faerie quality, one admittedly dampened by Priscilla's own aura, but still something distant. Something alien.

     A moment later, he takes a sip of the champagne. As he does so, Twilight asks him why he brought his own. He laughs.

     It's not a nice laugh. It's a /beautiful/ laugh, but it's a little bit...condescending? Or maybe he just finds something funny?

     The King snaps his fingers. A goblet falls in front of Twilight, hitting the table with a quiet thud. He reaches over and pours a bit of whatever he's drinking into it.

     It is, quite literally, the stuff gods drink.

     "Whether drink, food, or blade, my treasury contains the finest of all that is."

     There's another ripple in the air. A large golden pitcher just *falls* onto the table. It's full of the same stuff, of a drink that's so rich it almost looks like liquid gold, that smells so strong and so pleasant it could kiss the sky.

     "I am willing to accept your food. You have clearly done your best. But you are drinking in honor of the King of Heroes, King of Uruk and of Babylon, King of all that is, was, or ever shall be."

     "None will ever drink less than the finest in my honor."

     "Consider it a guest's gift, if you like."

     "So, my lady," Gilgamesh says to Priscilla at his side, "A welcome surprise to see you so soon. I should have thought you might wish to savor the tastes of Babylon a few more days."

     Klasi's outburst receives a raise of his eyebrow. "Because they are /horses/," he says simply, like this is the most obvious thing in the world.
Staren     It is good to see you outside of a combat zone. Staren nods and smiles. Roll gets a pat on the back for her hug. "Hey." he greets the delibird. After they're seated, Twilight says he looks nice! Compliments on appearance aren't something he has to field often. Another smile, and he reciprocates, "You too!" Wait, should he say more than that? "You look beautiful." He still can't really tell what a dress is supposed to do for a pony, but the wearer is what Staren cares about.

    ...But today isn't about that. Today is about Gilgamesh. Both in the sense that the event is being held to host a foreign dignitary, and that Gilgamesh's aura sort of... makes everything about him, wherever he goes. Staren's torn between the effects of the aura and the same wariness as the queens -- why would someone need such an aura if they didn't need to trick people into following him? Gilgamesh clearly has a point and isn't just a tyrant, but the idea that someone should be followed /just/ for being a demigod isn't... it's not how Staren thinks.

    Priscilla's entrance, and the reaction to it, draws a wince from Staren. It would be SUPER awkward if some kind of diplomatic faux pax happened between the queens and the leader of the Concord, but... Celestia is swift to have the guards stand down. Sheesh, though, today is getting pretty tense, but that's life in the Multiverse. If it isn't a high-stress situation because of people shooting at you, it's because of... of... social stuff.

    Food and drink comes. Staren awkwardly isn't sure what to drink, and just orders whatever Twilight does. ...which is rendered moot when Gilgamesh offers his own to the table. Staren accepts; he certainly doesn't think Gilgamesh is going to /poison/ anyone. Alchohol's not really his thing but maybe The Best Drink tastes good anyway.

    At Klasi's outburst Staren gives him a surprised look, but Gilgamesh beats him to the explanation.

    Staren eats. The words hang in his mind. So, Gilgamesh, what do you think, finally seeing somewhere ruled by monarchs and full of happy, prosperous people?

    But what if it started an argument? Staren doesn't want to be the one to ruin dinner.
Priscilla     Royal guards are royal guards. One can't blame them for doing their job. Though she had considered Equestria's general readiness to be in question, Priscilla hadn't expected that reaction to be completely off the table, and so she doesn't in turn escalate her own response to it. If anything, the aforementioned foreboding sense of 'go on, make my day' is what intensifies, as vertical pupils in uncannily dark gold eyes make slow laps around the ring of spears. Celestia dismisses them; the right call.

    "Thou art correct, Lady . . . Celestia, I presumeth? I admit, I hath only heard of thee in the second hand." Considering their reaction is then to give her a better chair, of all things, Priscilla decides the twin rulers of Equestria seem to know what they're doing. Stomping feet (or hooves in this case) and trying to assert authority would be the objectively incorrect course of action. There's a lot she can only guess at about Equestria, having heard about it for years, but never been.

    Though probably crossing the border would probably have involved turning into some kind of dragon that would be literally more inconvenient for everyone involved than she currently is, so there's that.

    As for drinks, Priscilla basically has to stop at the champagne she gets. Few people know it, but she is actually terrible at alcohol, and maybe it used to be cute over half a decade ago, it's probably a bad idea given her modern day temperament and level of power. Frankly, the smell coming off Gilgamesh's goblet is enough reminder. Water is fine, she says. "Alas, as thou certainly knoweth, I hath a life of many obligations. Asides, I expect that thou art not to so suddenly disappear altogether." she replies. "I am not quite so carefree as to possesseth ample time to eat the King's food whilst arguing his policy for days on end." There are layers to that statement alright. Layers like an onion. An onion made of ice.

    Food and Priscilla share a weird and distant relationship. She eats it when it is part of an occasion, and that's about it. That's just kind of how it is. She doesn't get hungry, nor does she particularly crave the taste or sensation in an animal comfort sort of way, since neither half of her deals with that kind of thing. That doesn't prevent her from at least recognizing that it's good stuff, even for being purely vegetarian. She picks away at it without complaint, and funny enough, habitually royal table manners. That isn't a recent thing; when she was tiny enough to be taught how to eat with a fork, she was, at the time, princess-in-waiting.

    "Indeed, I had wondered what it is thou hast planned here." she says leading off Staren, aimed at the twin monarchs, but also at Gilgamesh -a statement of minor incredulity at the bizarre meeting. "A diplomatic gathering? A display of wealth and prestige? A commitment of terms?" Then Klasi is yelling about meat. ". . . is it that thine kind simply do not consume it, or that it is considered unacceptable?" She asks. Out of all the people present, she is the least bothered by Gilgamesh's aura, but that's something of a combination of having been around the guy several times now, and also living in a city of literal sun gods. One adjusts to the glare.
Twilight Sparkle      Celestia and Twilight both giggle a bit at the cute delibird, though Luna looks more perturbed than amused. When Klasi speaks up Luna's frown returns. "Equestria is a strickly vegitarian society." Celestia says before Luna says anything that might be a bit too abrasive or loud. "We do not even deal in products that use the flesh of animals. Killing anything with even a hint of intelligence is highly frowned upon, and outright illegal in many cases. The only exceptions are fish and worms, which are acceptable as feed for those animals that require such." the solar queen explains.

     Celestia and Luna listen to Gilgamesh as he answers the questions he is asked, and Twilight is surprised when he actually shares. She wouldn't have expected that! However, he is still a jerk about it, and so while she and the queens accept the drink Twilight is hiding her distaste for the King as best she can. Which suddenly becomes easier upon tasting the drink. One can almost see the sparkles around her eyes at the flavor. The queens blink in surprise at the taste, then both actually smile. "Then, in your honor we accept." Celestia says before raising her glass to Gilgamesh. Luna follows suit, as does Twilight begrudgingly. Celestia then hands the pitcher to one of her servers with the instructions to make sure every guest gets at least one glass full.

     Twilight is thinking much like Staren. Hoping that Gilgamesh might see that there are societies out there that are propsering, filled with happy people. Hoping that his outlook might be brightened just a bit.

     Given their first conversation though, she isn't expecting it. Still, she feels obligated to ask. "So, King Gilgamesh, what do you think so far? There is of course much more to Equestria than Canterlot, but I'm sure you've formed some kind of opinion of our land by now?"

     Celestia nods at Priscilla's presumption, then motions to Luna. "And this is Luna, my younger sister and co-ruler of Equestria. We are honored by your visit." Both offer a small bow of their head in respect. "Well, in all honesty it was not our idea to invite King Gilgamesh here, but that of my prized pupil Twilight Sparkle." Celestial replies to the question of what was planned. "However, she intended it as a diplomatic meeting. Merely to exchange ideas and ideals, to further understanding between those with different views. While I admit I was uncertain if it was the proper course of action given our apparent disagreements about ruling style and sovereignty, it would be quite rude to withdraw such an invitation. And I am pleased to see that King Gilgamesh is not nearly as antagonistic as my faithful student apparently perceived him to be."
Mortimer Balman      No trouble.. Not yet, at least. So far, so good. Mortimer can at least trust Gilgamesh to show basic manners- though he is unsure of why Priscilla is here. He doesn't buy that 'oh I'm just here to make sure he's treated well' statement at all, to be honest. Especially not after such a grandiose and armed guard-inducing entrance. Then again she's kind of a dweeb, as far as he's known her, so maybe she is and that entrance was less about statements and more because she's still picking up on common social habits.

     Irrelevant, really. Liquor has been offered and Groudan cultural standards dictate that such things are not refused, unless one has cause to suspect poison. Which, naturally, would cause a violent reaction. And then Problems. Anyway. He sniffs at a goblet for himself, makes sure Roll has a small cup of it, and then swishes a bit around in his mouth. "Hm. Very good." And that's all he says.

     As for Klasi, Mort just kinda stares at the boy for a moment.. Then looks pointedly at the ponies around him, then back at Klasi. Hint hint hint.
Gilgamesh      They ask the King what he thinks.

     Gilgamesh, slowly, pauses. He sets down his fork (His table manners are impeccable, which is also probably kind of shocking; he doesn't grab things and shovel them in like a savage but eats like a civilized, even remarkably civilized, man) with a quiet clink. He makes a gesture, and a napkin of silk appears in front of him, wiping his mouth and then vanishing back into the Gate in a ripple of sparkles. The King reclines in the wooden throne, crossing his leg and setting his arm against his cheek.

     It's an imperious sort of reclining, a regal sort of reclining. His eyes are hard and distant.

     When he speaks, it's slowly, with certain, delicate precision.

     "Have you ever known war?"
Klasi Stryde As Klasi's treated as a dumbass, he kind of blinks owlishly. "I thought they were ponies! What does meat have to do with that, anyways?" He doesn't seem to understand, even as he enjoys the rice...but Celestia clears it up simply enough for him to understand. "Ohhhh...so that's what vegetarian is, huh? I understand! The food is very good anyways, even if I was expecting meat..." Klasi shrugs and moves back to eating his rice bowl. He takes a sip of the wine, which is also his first time drinking alcohol. It's amazing, and also ruined for him forever because nothing will ever measure up. After taking a drink and letting the taste in, Klasi turns towards Gilgamesh. "Wow, this is amazing. Thank you very much, King Gilgamesh!"
Priscilla     "I had heard as much, yes." Priscilla says at the explanation of how the meeting had come about. She'd actually heard it, after all. "Thou must have an exceptionally high opinion of thine pupil if thou were to arrange such on such short notice for her sake." she says. Certainly, there's probably nobody Priscilla knows that she'd go through the effort for simply because they asked after they'd already said so. Maybe /one/. It's at least an interesting arrangement to know of. She barely knows Twilight by proxy to Staren.

    "Certainly however, there /is/ indeed much more to a kingdom than its castle. Thus is why I asked of thine aims; it is all too easy to present a kingdom as prosperous and flourishing whence all one sees of it is the heart of its wealth and power. To see what the royalty eats speaks little of what the soldiers and scholars and craftsmen and men of the earth eat." She finishes with a tiny piece of honeyed apple to allow time for a reply. It isn't so much accusatory as matter of fact. Of course they'd all had to walk past a little bit on the way here, no doubt, but this is a topic Priscilla knows pretty well.

    Were Priscilla a little more prone to 'remembering how facial expressions work after hundreds of years alone', the condemnation of an omnivorous diet might elicit an eyeroll, despite the fact that Priscilla doesn't obligate eat meat either, quite probably because she consumes worse. Still, she recognizes that never in a million years will she have a productive discourse on the ethics of murder with the royalty of Equestria. "Rare is the kingdom that is able to get away with feeding its people without killing." she says, deliberately choosing 'get away with' rather than 'get by', and not being 100% directly literal relating killing and feeding to meat. "I assumeth those spears useful for something, after all."

    She can't help but keep noticing that loud peasant^5^5^5 guest talking about meat, after having shown up to a pony world. This time she actually stares from the lead table, trying to puzzle out who the hell this guy is and if she should be figuring out something to get him to keep him quiet.
Staren     Staren drinks the nectar of the gods. It's good! And it doesn't taste like alchohol at all, so it must be non-alchoholic. So he keeps drinking it. It's probably a really good thing that his medical nanomachines keep working to get it out of his system or this could go awkward in an entirely unexpected way!

    Staren winces again when Celestia admits that Twilight percieves Gilgamesh as antagonistic.

    And then Gilgamesh asks a question. Exposition almost starts pouring out of his mouth -- about Hearthswarming and the ancient Crystal Empire (which is supposedly coming back now Sometime Soon, according to Evil Future Twilight) -- but all of that was over a thousand years ago, and it's not really his stories to tell, is it?

    Priscilla's question though, he feels more able to speak on -- he's /eaten/ food here. "They have great food in Ponyville, too!" he pipes up, enthusiastically.
Priscilla     Priscilla spares a little time to look at/down Staren, with a short pause as a punctuation mark. "It is a figure of speech, Sir Staren. I speaketh of a general quality of life."
Twilight Sparkle      Twilight blinks at the return question from Gilgamesh, then considers. Celestia shakes her head. "In the recorded history of Equestria there has never been a true war. The pegasi used to be quite war-like but even they never fought a war as far as I know. We did have a war-like battle fought on Equestrian soil, but it did not involve any Equestrian troops and the attacker never returned. When our land faces a threat, it almost always comes from a single, supremely powerful individual. This is always handled by either we queens personally or a small group of equally powerful individuals who have come to be known as the Harmony Knights. Six ponies wielding the Elements of Harmony, which are our ideals crystalized into physical forms. Even then, there are almost never any deaths. From what I have heard of other worlds...our world is supremely lucky in that respect."

     "As for the quality of life for our citizens, as far as I am aware there is no want for quality food anywhere in Equestria." Celestia continues with a smile. "Of course, there are those that pay more for food, but it is by choice. In Equestria we work hard to ensure that every pony is given the best. Healthcare, food, education...if you are able to find a pony who does not have access to more than adequate amounts of each I will be supremely surprised."

     Celestia giggles a bit here. "And I suppose I should mention that although we are called the rulers of Equestria, the truth is that we hardly do any ruling at all. We serve the ponies and do our best to be treated as average ponies. The ponies do not exalt us because we demand it, but because they wish to. I have tried many times to convince them that we do not deserve such a grand castle or such devotion, but over the millenia it has become clear that they enjoy it."

     Twilight's cheeks puff up a moment at Priscilla. "We arranged this banquet because it is traditional when a foreign dignitary first visits our land. I suppose it is a bit ostentatious, but it's purpose is to make them feel welcome while at the same time showing that we don't regard anyone as more valuable than anyone else. Whether King Gilgamesh wants to see the rest of Equestria and make his own judgements is up to him."

     Twilight looks to Gilgamesh after that. "If you do want to see more of Equestria, then I am at your disposal." She bows her head lightly.

     As the godly drink is passed around, all the ponies in the room are again dazzled and soon the entire place is buzzing with how delicious the drink is and whether they will be able to get it imported!
Gilgamesh      "I have no need to see anything else."

     The King's face is no longer impassive. It is no longer polite. It is no longer neutral. Instead what is written across that perfect face is only one emotion, and it is a clear and obvious one, plain as day.

     Disgust.

     "You, who have known no war, who have known no struggle, who have known no strife, hold yourselves up to be an example to others?"

     "You, who claim to rule, sit as equals among your subjects?"

     "Vile."

     Gilgamesh wipes his hands with another silken cloth from the Gate of Babylon. "This land trivializes existence. You have known no challenge. You have known no sorrow, yet claim to know joy. You have by your own words food and drink aplenty without a single battle for land, without a single conflict."

     Gilgamesh stands. "No one wants. No one needs. No one struggles to rise above their station. All stand shoulder to shoulder as /equals/, and you would have this something to be /proud of/? You would proudly say that you /serve the people/, that you are treated /as the people/? That each and every single member of your society is given the finest available? That all people are given what they need to survive?"

     Gilgamesh's disgust is written into his /voice/. It's encoded in his /eyes/. It's something that carries with it a supernal weight, not from some supernatural aura but from the sheer force of his own personal charisma. "You rob existence of its challenge."

     "You rob it of purpose."

     "And you would have every single world imitate you. You would have every single world live as if protected by pillows. Unable to grow, unable to become more, unable to aspire to heights born by suffering, unable to rise up from their humble beginnings and strive for something /meaningful/ with their lives."

     The King's eyes flash. "I thought I could not be more revolted when you said that the only meaning human beings need is the love of their families."

     "I have been proven wrong. Rare has that been done in my life. I give you congratulations for that if nothing else. It is truly an accomplishment." He sneers. "Whether you feel it is an accomplishment to be proud of or not is entirely up to you."

     "You wish to know what the King of Heroes thinks?"

     Gilgamesh's face takes on a dark hue. "The King of Heroes would wipe this country off the face of Multi-Vars in the span of an instant if he had the choice."

     "That is what I think of your utopia. A wretched thing that steals ambition and suffering and dares to look down on those who struggle as if this idyllic vision is something worth emulating."

     "And if you doubt my words, know that I am the King, and that the King does not lie."

     Yeah, he's...probably not a deceiver, at least!

     A deceiver would probably sugar-coat it.
Mortimer Balman      Mortimer is on his feet the moment he hears the word 'vile'. His hand is on his belt, clutching the grip of his k-bar. He does not look amused, indeed his face is one of constrained anger. "You should watch your tongue better if you care to keep it, *primitive*. Your values are not universal, and some weak-minded *savage* who cannot accept change has as much right to dicate how others should be happy as a mere 'mongrel' like *me* does."

     Roll has seen that Mort is angry, and that means it is time to hide. Under Twilight Sparkle, ideally. Smol penguin whimperings.
Gilgamesh      Gilgamesh looks right at Mort.

     He looks right /through/ Mort.

     "The barking of mongrels is as meaningless to me as the sound of birds outside my window. If you do not want to know what the King is thinking, then perhaps do not ask."

     "And were you a civilized man you would know better than to threaten a guest in the house of another. They are obligated to defend me if you draw your blade." Gilgamesh's smile is almost /cruel/. "Although it would entertain me greatly to see you make them bleed, I think perhaps that it would distress them to need to turn such weapons on someone who speaks so /quickly/ in their defense."

     He turns to Priscilla, that same cruel smile on his face. "Although what else can you expect from /democracy/ but the demand to silence an asked-for opinion? When all opinions are equal, I suppose the only recourse to prove the superiority of your own is force."

     "It's barbaric."

     Sip.
Klasi Stryde One minute, Klasi is eating his rice bowl, having grabbed a skewer and munching on that as well. Vegetables are delicious. He wonders, idly, what a 'fish' is as they mentioned, but maybe he'll try it sometime. It's a peaceful time, though, listening to the ponies' talk so enthusiastically about their home. They seem like nice...people?

And then, it hits. Gilgamesh lets his full opinion be known, and Mortimer gets angry. As they begin to argue, Klasi finishes his bite, stares at the two, glancing back and forth, and then decides he wants to stop this from escalating. The reason: he wants to finish his meal in peace.

"Woah, woah! You can't attack the king, mister! He didn't do anything wrong. Yeah, his opinion is a little harsh...but it makes sense, sort of, and the way he presented it was so cool. You need adversity to grow, like how you learn to walk by falling over a few times first!" That might just be a personal experience. "If you hurt him, you'll ruin the feast, and just be kind of a jerk anyways!"

And then, to Gilgamesh. "But you uh, don't actually plan on destroying them, right? It sounds like you don't, because that wouldn't be fair to them after all the delicious food they gave us! I mean, it's kinda mean if you don't think they should exist because of that, even if you make sense..."

Klasi is probably just making things worse by being a dumbass.
Staren     Well, damn.

    Staren stands up with his hands on the table. "They did fight. Because they fought with eachother, they nearly died." He glances at Celestia. "I don't know if the windigoes were real," and then back at Gilgamesh, "But even if they weren't, just refusing to work together brought famine. I don't know what the legend about 'five adult unicorns losing their magic every time the sun was raised or lowered' really means, but whatever spawned that tale must have been quite a struggle. I'm a bit unclear on whether the queens lived through that," he glances again, "but their teacher did."

    Staren glares at Gilgamesh. "You talk about how great Uruk was. Did you /build/ it? Did you /see/ the people suffering before it existed, and then make things better? Would you have torn it all down, just so that they could properly suffer again? Or did you want to protect and care for your people? What would you have done, if you ruled over the perfect land as the perfect king for a thousand years? Just stopped doing a good job because your people were too well off?"

    Staren sits back down. "But you're right that everyone has an opinion."

    "The proof of superiority isn't force, but it's closely related. The proof is existence itself. How the people are living."
Mortimer Balman      Mortimer's teeth flash. They are sharp-looking teeth. "You have insulted my Queens, their kingdom, and their efforts and then dare pretend that being a guest should offer you protection from justified anger! But I anticipated this from your endless whining and moaning about how the world isn't giving you what you 'deserve'- you are no king, much less a king of heroes. You have no kingdom, no legacy, nor any position to command authority from; merely a storybook you claim is your own legend, and some pretty magic tricks. A pity that the sum of the legend of Gilgamesh is proving to be little more than some boasting coward who pretends superiority at all times."
Priscilla     "Fortunate indeed." Priscilla repeats, when Celestia indicates that Equestria basically formed on its own, in relatively uncontested land, apparently has no aggressive neighbours, and its conflicts are small in scale and easily solved by a handful of powerful people who stand for its ideals. She manages to remain relatively uncommitted in both word and gesture. "I cannot say thou art essentially guilty in any sense, for possessing good fortune. There is nothing inherently wrong in taking advantage of what nature hast so readily granted thee, nor any reason to spurn the fondness that a few possesseth for their kingdom, or take for granted that so few see reason to raise swords against it."

    There's a period where she just takes a long sip and stares into the bottom of her crystal glass. "However, fortune is fortune. Thou art exceptional in such, yes. Exceptional luck begets exceptional circumstances. Thou certainly thou art allowed some pride that thou hast not made waste of such good fortune, however I cannot see it to be passed as exceptional virtue or exceptional wisdom that hast brought thee so far. Perhaps it is not wrong to wish that other worlds be as fortunate as thee -to want for little and war for nothing- but such shalt never be the case. For those who yet hath need, who must fight and toil and even kill for what thou hast here . . ."

    Priscilla looks up from her glass. The tip of her tail twitches. "Friendship and harmony is all well, but platitutes of cooperation and peace art luxuries only affordable by those who already hath everything. Actualization of individuals within a gated society in which the the highest order of priority is to not cause it to slide from its idyllic peak, rather than to struggle up its slopes. I do not mock thee, Lady Celestia, Lady Luna, and I despise thee not, however I see no lessons for those of us who art not so blessed in the hand of kin and country and circumstance we art dealt."

    The precise instant Priscilla sees Mort's hand fly to his knife, the champagne in her glass freezes solid and snaps its container with a sharp crack and cascade of tinkling, deep red shards. Nothing but her pupils had moved; the frost that coats the edge of the table near her elbow is expressive of an elevation of tension, so is her roughly trained new power. "Convenient of thee to forget these 'laws of hospitality' I hath heard so much of before, Sir Balman. I had heard them explained to mineself the other night, most pointedly of which that a guest invited to share little other than words is indeed not to be assaulted by unruly members of the house. If thou wouldst elucidate me to an alternative version I hath heard yet not, thou art certainly welcome. Else, I urge thee not to prove thineself precisely the 'boasting savage' thou speaketh of."

    Gilgamesh's brazen, overpowering contempt, delivered with vociferous condemnation and animated, sneering spite, is only just barely masking the dark, subdued undercurrent where Priscilla sits. The fact that she has moved almost not at all is the more ominous tell from her. She doesn't escalate to angry words, angry gestures, and then violence; not like normal people. "Be seated, Sir Balman, and hold thine tongue until the moment it can compose words that art more argument than insult. Thou shouldst knoweth well that I think little of context whence a blade is drawn in mine presence."
Twilight Sparkle      After Gilgamesh's speech...every pony in the place is speechless. Twilight and Luna both look on the verge of seething response, but Celestia spreads her wings and an ominous 'whoosh' of wind flows over the room, silencing even the slowly rising whispers of those ponies gathered. The amicable queen is no longer smiling, and her look makes it clear that she is no more willing to tolerate him than those ponies flanking her. "Then, I suppose there is little more to say." She stands from her seat, as does Luna. Twilight remains seated, trying to comfort little Roll. "But know this. You are the vile one. The one who condemns with as much ignorance as those he dismisses. Perhaps you have known only war, or perhaps you simply cannot help it. Those that created you made you this way, and whether their intentions were good I cannot say."

     She and Luna step forward. "As you have taken no aggressive action against Equestria you will not be forcibly dismissed and are even welcome to stay and finish the meal. But, I must ask you. What would you do to someone who entered your land and made such a declaration about you, your citizens, and all the hard work they had done to achieve their goals under your guidance while attending a gathering you had arranged in their honor?" Indeed, she does motion for Mortimer to stand down. "Mortimer, he is not our enemy. It is as he says. He is free to speak his mind regardless of our opinions so long as he does not actively seek to harm our land or people."

     Then, Celestia sits back down. Luna does as well, though only after a long hard glare at Gilgamesh. Twilight looks pretty deflated now and is just petting Roll gently. There really is no debating with this person. His views are so ingrained in him that he can't even entertain the possibilities. She can't even imagine such a mindset.

     "If I may ask, King Gilgamesh. Just what sort of actions do you believe add value or meaning to a being's life?" Celestia asks, her tone returning to the amicable voice of friendship and harmony. "And why is it that you think only war and lack of essentials bring suffering and growth?"

     As Priscilla speaks up, all three of the host ponies' ears perk up, and Twilight says, "You think Equestria just formed out of nothing and never knew suffering at all? Before this land was called Equestria, suffering was everywhere! That was the whole reason the three great pony tribes came together to form it in the first place! Only a few years ago the land was nearly lost to a spirit of chaos called Discord! Before that, a being called Nightmare Moon threatened all life on the planet by trying to institute eternal night!"

     Celestia signals for Twilight to be quiet again, then looks at Gilgamesh and Priscilla. "If you think this peaceful land became this way merely by chance, then you are mistaken. We have not known mass death and destruction, but we have known danger, despair, and suffering. It is a fact of life that no matter your station or status you will suffer in some way. We have worked to minimize mass suffering." She takes a bite of a cupcake. "Now please, everyone either return to your seats or avail yourself of the exits."
Mortimer Balman      An eye shoots at Priscilla. "Do not presume to give me orders, Priscilla- you're a halfway decent person, but I owe you no obdience. And especially do not lecture me on hospitality- if I waltzed into /your/ throne room like I owned the place, and then insulted and verbally spat on you and all you stood for, all that you've accomplished, you would have a dozen Concordats standing up with hands ready to draw in your defense."

     He's about to say a lot more. Then Celestia orders him. "...By your command, Majesty." He obeys her immediately, and sits back down. His hand even leaves the knife, and he is quiet. He is pointedly angry, however.
Gilgamesh      Gilgamesh just looks /bored/ at Staren.

     "Protect and care? You call this protecting and caring? It is stifling. It is crushing. It is a thing that destroys and devours ambition, dismisses the need for growth, and denies the very idea of suffering. This is neither protection nor caring. It is *oppression*."

     Gilgamesh spreads his arms. "It is an oppression. That it is a /kind/ oppression, a /gentle/ oppression, does not make it not oppression. Everyone is given exactly what they need by the state. People only pay more if they wish it. These are not things that are /possible/ in the real world. They are possible only in a magical dream land where all the needs of the people are cared for, where the only struggle brought about was self-inflicted."

     "It is exactly as the Lady says. You are blessed with good fortune. It is good sense that you have used this fortune well, but you are not a model society, to stand atop all others. You are something to be hated and shunned. Something that is at its core dangerous."

     Gilgamesh levels his gaze at Twilight. "You brought me here to try and ply me with bragging, did you not? To show me how good your society is, how you could live peacefully and happily?"

     He puts his hand on the table. "And now that you have failed you call me ignorant? Now that you have found me not a mewling child who bends the knee because of your good fortune you call me incapable of forming an opinion without simply *disagreeing with you*? You would pass my opinions off as the opinions of the gods?"

     "Fool. I am Gilgamesh, King of Heroes, King of Babylon and Uruk, King of all that is, was, or ever shall be, King of the richest land of all. My name is inscribed in the history of countless countries as the King who surpasses all others, who knows secret things and who brims with wisdom."

     "You /asked for my opinion/," Gilgamesh reminds Celestia and Luna, "Would you have me insult my hosts by /lying/? By giving you sweet nothings of false admiration? How should I insult you? The truth seems surer still. But perhaps you do not know that a King should never lie." His eyes flash. "My word is law. If my word is false, then the law is false. If the law is false, then all men suffer."

     "And if you believe I would do anything other than defend a guest who spoke the same of me, you are less worthy to rule than even I thought." Gilgamesh's eyes are cold and hard as he straightens. "I am Gilgamesh. I do not /speak/ what I do not /believe/. As the Lady Priscilla says. It is the law of hospitality. If you killed my right hand's brother and were invited into my home, and he drew a blade upon you, I would kill him where he stood, though he had every right to do the same."

     "I do not think only war and suffering bring the truth. I think that you live an idyllic life and wish to use it to prove to me that lives have value and that I am wrong to think otherwise." Gilgamesh looks at Celestia with a distant and disdainful stare. "You wished to sway my thoughts. Now you find me unwilling to be swayed."
Gilgamesh      Gilgamesh points at Celestia. "You are the rulers. If the only suffering was caused by *your* failures, by *your* inability to defend your people from immortal threats, then what should I think?"

     "Humans live. Humans suffer. Humans grow. Lack and need makes them aspire to greater things. Perceived lack. Perceived need. Need to be stronger. Need to be greater. Need to know more. You have created a state where all the people of the land need want for nothing, given it at a whim, and boast proudly that you *failed* to defend them from the monsters that a true king is meant to fight, and boast proudly that you are nothing more than *just like them*."

     "What should I think?" Gilgamesh puts his hands on his hips. "Should I bend over and bow and go oh, yes, your wisdom is immense? No."

     "I find your hypocrisy sickening. You, the beneficiaries of great luck, have made a state where none aspires higher than to be /cared about/. Your pupil has the audacity to call me ignorant when I judge you for what you yourselves have told me, and indeed *ask me to do so*. And your guard has called me savage and primitive, and threatened me in your own home with violence to silence me because I have challenged your cradle."

     "It is a feast in my honor. It is a feast to bribe me and sway me into changing my opinion. That is what all feasts in all guests' honors are. Politics."

     Gilgamesh turns. He snaps his fingers. The jug of alcohol vanishes in a flash of golden light, though any poured stuff remains. His own golden cup vanishes as well. "Lady Priscilla, I am taking my leave. If you wish to walk with me, it would be my pleasure to escort you."
Priscilla     "If memory holds, thou didst just say as much that those conflicts were of such scale that a handful of Equestria's champions were sufficient. That is not to speak of their impact, but to establish that the common members of this kingdom -their values and their readiness- were not tested." Priscilla continues, almost as if nothing had ever happened, but not as convincingly as would be ideal. "Thou art understandably proud of possessing the power to shelter them so, such that they see no suffering whilst their queens and gods stand in their defense, but this speaks little of the correctness of a kingdom, and entirely the strength and character of its rulers."


    "Regardless of how harmonious, how tolerant, how peacable thou hast taught thine citizens to be, it is fact, then, that they hath been allowed to grow so because of the strong sword and shield that back them. Ultimately, the difference between six fighting so that a thousand may prosper, or a hundred fighting such that nine hundred may prosper, is academic. Thou has professed the greatness of the champions that alloweth this anomalous state of peace and plenty to exist, rather than the greatness of its design."

    "Of course, I am far from one who wouldst speak against this. As thou art aware, I am First of the Concord, the very nature of which is to promote individuals of such ability and foresight to be declared champions as they art owed, so that others may benefit. It is indeed better sense to task the six strongest swords in the kingdom, rather than a hundred inferior blades that may break and waste steel and strong arms. I am not certain, however, what model of society one is to take from this? Dost thou believeth that if any given kingdom were to adopt these values, to prioritize harmonious living, cooperation with kin, reverence of all life, deference of conflict, and equality of all, that they wouldst becometh equally as prosperous, successful, and secure?"

    "I believeth, perhaps, equally comfortable and welcoming, yes. Any given kingdom adopting such lifestyle may indeed be more pleasant to deal with. However, I remaineth unconvinced that such couldst be said to make a kingdom more correct. I do not question the benefit of a culture that encourages its people to work to common cause, but I denounce it as a panacea. Cooperation is preferable to none, but all things fail if they art all that one depends upon, and all things becometh poison in too great a dose."

    Her eyes sliiiiiide over to the two, but Luna especially. "I suspect thou art well aware of this. Thou couldst hardly not be. I also suspect that thou art overeager to pretend thou dost not, in order to sway the mind of the King of Uruk, who is known to be well in excess of opposition to such views. I wouldst deem it an overcompensation, were I so inclined to speak. An attempt to sway he who loathes wine by pushing the strongest and most costly vintage available upon him."
Priscilla     And then her eyes slide back. Even though Priscilla can hold a civil, if disagreeable, conversation with the pony queens, she can certainly do it at the same time as holding something very different with Mortimer. "Sir Balman, I hath known thee long by mortal reckoning. I hath served alongside thee in the days whence the Emperor Ascendent threatened the Multiverse, through the trials of Loki, and to the early days of thine so-called retirement. I claim not to knoweth thou as well as thou seem to believeth thou knowest I, so I shalt speak simply and clearly."

    "The King of Uruk has not 'waltzed' into the throne room. He hast been invited by the throne itself, and bid speak his piece. Hospitality is considered, as thou hast often spoken of thine Groudan Hospitality. I do no such thing. Neither Anor Londo nor the Elysium Apex bids others to offer their opinions in such a way. I, mineself, respect laws of hospitality as a foreign custom, and nothing so dear to mine heart."

    "I am not issuing orders. I am giving thee an ultimatum. If thou shalt not restrain thineself, then neither shall I. As it stands, thou hast vastly more to lose as a subject of this kingdom, keen to bring strife to thine own house with this foolishness. I hath slain men for less."

    She looks pretty tempted when Gilgamesh gets up to leave, but there is actually something she would like to try. "The King of Uruk hath asked thee if thine kingdom has known war. I shall ask thee something else. What wouldst thou do if thine country didst? If enemies appeared, far beyond the capacity for thineselves and thine acolytes and friends to handle -if such disaster were brought to thine doorstep that some subjects wouldst suffer and die despite all of thine best efforts- in what way wouldst Equestria stand? In what way doth it different how Equestria wouldst stand in famine, in plague, in poverty?" She doesn't seem to intend to leave until she has an answer to that one.
Staren     Dammit, Mort. This is supposed to be the land of talking things out! But Staren's not going to tell him off /there/.

    Man, friendship is complicated. And on top of it here there's political and diplomatic repercussions. He can't just honestly tell Mort off too, but it's also dishonest to act like he did nothing wrong. He'll have to sort of... not talk about it while the others are in earshot then.

    "If we hoped to persuade you that lives have value, we were fools. What circumstances lead to a life of comfort or to a life of struggle, that can be examined, proven. But whether lives have value? You either believe it or you don't."

    "You're right. That you were asked for your opinion and you gave it. Perhaps..." Staren glances at Twilight, then back at Gilgamesh. "I don't know what she was thinking, but I admit I certainly thought, when I heard about this dinner, 'huh, maybe Gilgamesh will approve of a society where a couple of powerful people are in charge and it's done the citizens well.'"

    Thoughts run ahead in Staren's mind. There is a way to salvage this, maybe. Can he pull it off? He has to go for it. "Tch, I suppose that just shows how shallowly I think of you. That I don't understand you." He firmly but not too forcefully brings his hand down on the table. "Everybody's shocked to hear harsh words. Noone likes it, and gods know I say stuff people don't like to hear sometimes. I suppose even here people can forget themselves when they feel under attack. But I do not love this place so dearly because it is a place of peace. I love it because it is the first place in the Multiverse that tried to /understand/ me. And that understanding was of no less worth for that it was freely given." His gaze very briefly flickers to Priscilla, and his voice lowers as he looks... disappointed in the ponies sitting near him, his gaze lowered and ears splayed. "Although I suppose it turns out to be not so freely given after all."

    He briefly closes his eyes, and takes a breath, then opens them, rallying and speaking up once more. "So, let's show some proper Equestrian hospitality and offer /understanding/. What do you value, Gilgamesh? We've been assuming, and you know what they say about that. Err, or, actually maybe you don't. We've been justifying ourselves based on our own values, our own caring about people. You dismiss 'clay dolls' as worthless and we thought you'd see the light if we just shined it in your face brightly enough. What do you really care about? Perhaps understanding can bring a more amicable relationship. And if it can't... at least we'll /know/. We can properly know that we are anathema to eachother and avoid wasting time with another happening like this."
Mortimer Balman      Mortimer's mane gets noticeably hotter the more Gilgamesh speaks. But he was told to stand down, and stand down he has. The cup he is holding, however, melts in his grip until it is little more than liquid gold that drips onto the floor. "..." And then Priscilla speaks again, and his eye twitches a bit. Celestia has given permission to leave.

     "Thank you, my Queens, for hosting this lovely dinner. I pray you will forgive my outburst.. But as much as you and this nation have done for me, it is /very/ difficult to not become enraged by someone who gives you such treatment, with insults and sneers and derision, invited or not." He glances sideways at Priscilla for a moment, then back to his Queens. "But I am not blind, especially not to tiresome trends which for some mysterious reason always end with me being in the wrong, the moment someone who thinks themselves my better begins talking. As I do not wish to cause you further problems, I will take my leave. Come along, Roll."

     The delibird hops up and waddles over to Mort's side, climbing up his clothes until she's on his shoulder. "<Night night!>" Everyone is given a friendly and affectionate wave from the little flightless avian as he leaves out a different door.
Gilgamesh      Gilgamesh stops.

     He turns to look at Staren, and there's actually a flicker of respect in his eyes. It's probably the first anybody's seen here besides Priscilla. Priscilla's seen it numerous times, those red eyes looking at people and seeing value in them. It's not soft, per se. It's like a sword, but a sword that's being turned upon a worthy foe, not an executioner's blade cutting off the head of an unworthy.

     "Honesty," Gilgamesh says as he taps the side of the chair, turning and leaning on it like a teenager at a school, and it's suddenly worth remembering that, wait, yes, he /is/ a teenager; he's seventeen years old. He looks like a glorious, gorgeous god-king, because he is, but he's /also/ a teenager.

     "I value honesty. I value strength. I value the will to make a change in the world when you perceive a wrong. Even if I despise your opinion, if I despise you to the core, if our philosophies are utterly incompatible, I value the will to fight for them."

     "I value human achievement. Not the wretched thing that robs men of a need to grow, that steals good work from honest men and gives it to machines and criminals. Not the wretched thing that covers the world in hideous glass and sickening smog. Not the maggots, content to swarm without purpose or mind, unable to stand and face their own challenges without others to help them. That which is achieved by the hands of men striving to build a tomorrow that sees them greater than the day before in all ways."

     Gilgamesh drums his finger on the throne. "I value sacrifice. A man who will spend his blood for another is a rare and precious thing. But I do not value thoughtless sacrifice. I do not value spending your life as a habit because it is some nebulous correct thing to protect all the people of the world. Nothing is more heinous to me than the idea that all men should be protected, that no man should have to suffer and struggle, for nothing is more heinous to me than the idea that men should ever stop achieving."

     Gilgamesh holds his hand out and crushes it in a fist. "I value glory. I value those with the will to walk forth and seek fortune and fame and strength. I value those who take from me the inspiration to become great, who hear my words and see my glory and desire not to taste a bit of it but to find their own."

     "I value beauty. Not merely the beauty of a man or woman, but the beauty of a life that is genuinely unique, not unique because of a mewling platitude about how all people are special and equal. The beauty of a life that is a treasure unto itself is something I enjoy possessing."

     "Most of all, though," Gilgamesh says, and those hard red eyes seem sad, "I value the world. And what has been done to it - to my property, to my shining blue gem - is vile. Infested with meaningless, pointless maggots who speak platitudes to each other. Who say that all lives are virtuous. Who say that all lives have meaning. They do not."

     "Humans give themselves meaning when they seek meaning. Not simply because they live. Life is not a value. If life was a value, then mass society would not spend it so recklessly, would not grind it up for war and profit."

     "And I would hear the answer to the fair Lady's question myself before I depart. How you would stand the tests all other kingdoms face."
Twilight Sparkle
     "If we were faced with a foe," Celestia continues, "...that could not be swayed by diplomacy and insisted on wasting both their lives and ours in pointless warfare...we would have no choice, would we? As the chosen rulers and citizens of Equestria we would fight for all we were worth right alongside our citizens. Because they love their land and I know without having ever seen it that they would fight to the last pony to defend it. I would gladly give my life to defend them, and they would defend me if I were to need it."
Twilight Sparkle      Twilight's anger returns as Gilgamesh just keeps talking. But, there seems to be no point in saying anything else. All arguments (at least in her mind) fall on deaf ears.

     Celestia regards Gilgamesh with much the same coldness he regards her and Luna, though Luna is regarding him like someone who wants to let someone else feel what it is like to spend 1000 years on the moon, all by yourself. "I suppose it is as you say. A ruler shouldn't care what others say of their rule. And you have just proven your ignorance. We rule in name only, guiding when we are asked and setting an example for others. Equestria cares for itself, we are merely charged with its defense."

     Celestia pauses a moment. "You ask what you should think. You should think that we are imperfect, because we are. You should think that despite that imperfection we have helped to overcome a long history of suffering and create an equally long history of triumph without war through cooperation. And as the land is NOT destroyed or occupied, you should think that we succeeded rather than failed to protect our people. As for the feast...of course that is what the feast was. But, we offered to show you more than merely this room and this city, and you declined based on merely your -opinion- that progress and greatness can only come about during times of strife.

     Gilgamesh might notice as the jug disappears that none of the ponies are sipping of his godly nectar anymore. And his glorious mantle is no longer dazzling their eyes. "Your problem 'King' Gilgamesh.." Twilight Sparkle growls, "...is not your opinions. It is your arrogant, dismissive, insulting attitude. I cannot believe that you are a king of anything, because a king knows how to be diplomatic and tactful. He doesn't wield the truth like a sword, trying to injure as many as he can with it using his sneering tones, he uses it as a tool to improve others." As he declares he is leaving, Twilight huffs angrily and turns away from him.

     Celestia listens to Priscilla, then...nods. "That is exactly what we believe. If every world followed our example, then there would not be so much death and destruction in the Multiverse. But, it seems we may be the only land that does not favor those things. Our model of society works because the majority here wants it to work, not because we live on an idyllic world. The designation of six champions does save resources and lives, but it also gives our citizens something to strive toward. I believe it is our definitions of 'value' and 'greatness' that is the source of our contention with King Gilgamesh."

     She then considers that last question. "In all honesty, I do not know. But, each citizen of Equestria is strong. The chosen six are special only in their resonance with the six Elements of Harmony. Although I have no proof, I am confident that if the need ever became that dire that the citizens of Equestria would fight for their home despite their fear, despite their lack of readiness, and despite the odds. This land did not form on the extaordinary efforts of a few. It formed due to the strength, resolve, and steadfastness of all the citizens that set aside their differences and came together to form one, much stronger land."
Staren     Staren can't believe what he's hearing. An 1100+ year-old goddess-in-all-but-name still doesn't see what's going on here? And Twilight, dear Twilight... okay, actually, she's telling Gilgamesh what she thinks he's doing wrong, independent of his opinions. That's actually pretty Twilight, even if he's not used to hearing her 'Can't you see what a jerk you're being even if you have a point?' lectures in such an angry tone. There's a lesson in there that Gilgamesh could stand to learn but probably won't. He could though! Hope springs eternal.

    Staren takes Gil's words in and tries to formulate a response. he nods slightly. "People say that life has meaning, but they don't simply mean the state of being alive. With enough resources you could keep people safe by drugging them to sleep and feeding nutrients into their blood, and they might never hurt or be hurt, but noone here would want such a thing to occur. They wouldn't kill them, though -- heroes would want to /free/ them, that they might live more valuable lives."

    Staren tries to meet Gilgamesh's gaze for a few seconds. "People are valuable because they /can/ value things. And they agree on a lot of their values. With no people around, the universe is just rocks, flying in curves. Some of those rocks might have things on their surface that make more of themselves, but none of those things will dream of how the world could be better, will hope to achieve anything. They simply act in a way that's likely to make more moving things like them, and that is that."

    Staren takes a breath. "I think we all agree that all the things you just said are desireable. But there's a problem. As long as people communicate, when one person makes a great achievement, noone else can. Once one person had the idea to, to grow food instead of having to chase herds and gather berries, their whole tribe and anyone else who got wind of the idea... noone among them could ever be the one to invent agriculture again. For maximum personal achievement, I suppose, you could create a society of loners where no developments are shared."

    "So it was with the earliest humans. Without language, what they could teach was limited. They learned how to survive, again and again. In a way, you might say that everyone who lived to adulthood or even adolescence back then, achieved more personally than someone who, whatever, types numbers into a spreadsheet all day, then buys pre-made food at a supermarket and goes home to watch TV on the couch and then does it all the next day, even if the caveman lived 20 years and the cubicle couch potato lived eighty."

    "But you know what? One person can invent a better spear, or the idea of planting their own food. No one person can build a machine that takes them to the moon, all on their own. Communication and working together allows for far greater achievements -- but there aren't enough to go around. But that doesn't mean that the people who aren't mighty warriors or genius inventors or great philosophers or architects or whatever don't have their own dreams and their own struggles! Some of them dream of doing something great, but maybe some of them just want to make friends, or become famous, or achieve some little milestone that affects nobody in the big scheme of things, climb a mountain, visit a place, tell jokes that make their friends laugh, bake cookies that their coworkers like, /whatever/!"
Staren     Staren stands up and starts pacing. "The great pioneers can't do their thing without a society that allows them to /achieve/ anything bigger than /not/ getting eaten by cave lions for another day! Once somebody invents cheap mechanical transportation or preserved food or whatever, their creation is worthless if it's not helping people! And if it helps people, that makes life easier and that means more people! And you can't just, just... say 'Oh well okay let's cull the people who aren't directly supporting great achievements'. Imagine /that/, a society where everyone is terrified that if they don't achieve enough by the deadline they'll get killed. Is that what you want? A few hundred thousand people who spend their whole lives terrified?"

    Staren glares at Gilgamesh, then relaxes, sighs, and holds a hand to his head. "Sorry. Of course I don't mean to insinuate you want that. But it feels like what you want is untenable. Great people create a society where non-great people can thrive. And without such a society, the greatness that can be achieved is limited. Something's gotta give!"

    He looks at Gilgamesh, almost pleasing for him to explain the King of Heroes's answer to the dilemma.
Gilgamesh      "If human society thrived," Gilgamesh says, "I would have no complaints. But you cannot truly tell me that the twisted world of modern life is thriving."

     "That you can achieve simply living and laughing with those you care about without effort diminishes us. Comfort unearned creates laziness. It creates weakness. It creates those who cannot, who will not, strive for anything greater. Laughing with those you love is something that you earn because you have worked for it. Not because it is a thing that you are given to. That is what gives it meaning, what gives tragedy bite, what gives joy light. Loss. Sacrifice. Effort. Of course humans /want/ this without earning it. But that is something they should never have. Then they grow complacent."

     "You say that each achievement is one fewer achievement for another."

     Gilgamesh's eyes burn.

     "I say that each achievement is one step further on an endless road."

     "A road that mankind will not walk if it grows too comfortable, if it grows too peaceful, if it grows too sedate. If it grows complacent, it will stop at a point upon that road where it is comfortable, and where everyone can simply /laugh/ and /live/ and /do as they like/ rather than work for the betterment of their world."

     With that, the King of Heroes turns to leave properly, coat rippling around him.
Staren     "No world in the Multiverse is perfect, no." Staren agrees. "There are a lot of problems to fix."

    He's quiet for a moment, and then stares into the distance. "...One day we'll create the perfect world. Where there is struggle enough for people to appreciate life, but noone's life is contingent on a challenge they could never overcome. And where those who dream of ever higher heights are free to work towards them rather than struggling merely to survive."

    He sighs. "But for now, every world is out of balance, one way or the other or both at the same time. We just prefer those with too little challenge because living, able men have a chance, however small, to become great, while those whose lives were nasty, brutish, and short, have no more chance at all."
Priscilla     Gilgamesh might be looking to Staren with a glimmer of respect. Priscilla's gaze flits over to him with mild, if pleased, surprise. "Do mine ears deceive? No, it is perhaps not appropriate to question as much. I am impressed, Sir Staren. Certainly thou art more attached to here and these people than most, and yet thou remaineth keen upon facts, upon context, upon understanding, and useful discourse. I shalt not indulge overlong in praise, but thou hast come a ways since I last spoke to thee of Equestria." she admits. "We shalt see to something at a later time."

    By the time things appear to be wrapped up however, Priscilla puts down the sad, broken stalk of the accidentally shattered glass, breathing a sigh that turns to icy vapour on the air. "Opinions art opinions to whoever holds them. It is not wise to hold one opinion as fact, and then dismiss all others as 'mere' opinion. This is, in the end, nothing so complex. Thou believeth it is nobler to shelter thine people from hardship and strife, whilst he believeth that it is nobler to push them through the crucible of adversity to better them. Thou believeth it nobler to live amongst thine subjects as their friends and equals, whilst he believeth it nobler to stand irreproachably above them so that one's word is absolute in guiding them. Thou believeth peace and happiness is in the end nobler than his belief that greatness is all that matters. Last and foremost, thou believeth it noble to speak in a way that harms no one, whilst he wouldst believeth it instead noble to speak in a way that leaveth no room for doubt."

    "It is exceptionally rare that I state something so worthless as 'thou hold different things as important, and simply disagree', but at this moment, it is not mine to say any further, for I was not the one invited here to speak so. Instead I shall sayeth that conflating nicety for nobility and honesty for evil, risks precisely the same as taking peace for oppression and strife for worth, as thou so equally revile in he. Thou art perhaps too familiar with the former being held by the majority."

    Priscilla looks at the table as if she is contemplating if she wants a replacement, but apparently decides against it. "Truthfully, I wouldst wish to see how this Ancient Babylon wouldst grow were its ruler permitted to bring it through the ages, rather than be lost to time, rather than constant conjecture and pontification, but such is the reality."

    "Though I am disappointed in some of that which hath transpired tonight, I find no misconduct egregious enough to be worthy of further inquest. I had certainly envisioned a worse case. Thou hast mine thanks as hostesses, Lady Celestia, Luna, in provision and adherence to protocol. Let us part ways without . . . excessive, ill will. Simply, remember always, that though most share thine sentiment and wishes, very few share thine circumstances and opportunities. Many shalt voice similar to thee, but few art prepared to go any further. The King of Uruk speaketh of what most ill wish to hear, but he is king over what they face daily regardless. Harmony and equality art common desires, but men know want and war and adversity as intimate lovers. Mistaketh not a common wish for a common reality, nor a wish for how the world shouldst work for how it truly dost."

    Priscilla exits pretty much the way she left. It's slightly less alarming and just more dramatically spooky on the way out.