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Doctor Strange      Doctor Strange sits with his legs crossed upon a chair pulled from the Sanctum Sanctorum. The object of Gilgamesh's ire is nowhere to be seen, although in the wake of what the Sorcerer Supreme has done, that may change. When Gilgamesh arrived at the meeting point, Strange had an illusion in the likeness of the King's target ready and waiting to be 'killed,' only to of course vanish into a cloud of orange motes upon being struck.

     The following admonishment from Strange had come moments after, a familiar ring of orange sparks forming in the sky and descending until flush with the ground to reveal the sitting spellcaster.

     "What's the one thing you hate above everything else, O King?" Strange inclines his head slightly. The King can see that the sorcerer's wounds from the fight with ORT are still healing. His magics have helped them along, but the will of so powerful a creature is not so easily denied. His dark blue robes still sport several spots stained with still darker patches of dried blood. Evidently, he hasn't even had time to visit a drycleaner, although the fact that he's even sitting is testament to Mercy's skill as a healer. "It's boredom, isn't it?"

     "And what's more boring than having to go back and do work you've already done? It's monotonous. It's tedious. And if you had killed that Association guy, it's exactly what you would have consigned yourself to. Going back and smoothing over all the feathers that would ruffle over this, if it got out. Would you put it past a Mage to complain if he thought it'd get him somewhere?"

     He shrugs his shoulders slightly. "Sure. You could say he doesn't have any recourse, being in a secret society and all, and maybe you'd be right. But I can't let you set us back like this. Even if the Association never told anyone, we'd know. The precedent would be set."

     "When we joined, we promised to be better than what came before us, didn't we?" He frowns at Gilgamesh, inclining his head slightly backwards in an inquisitive way. "So... how is going and killing a guy for putting us in a bad spot any better than what came before us?"
Gilgamesh      Gilgamesh hadn't really intended to kill the mage immediately. He'd intended to interrogate him. Find out what he knew. Then do justice. When the sword had simply passed through the man's body and disintegrated him into motes, that had been a moment of supreme irritation, writ across the King's beautiful face in a language any idiot could read. His flawless eyebrows are knit together. His lips are pursed in a deep frown. Strange starts talking, and the King in his black coat stands, hand on his hip, head aside.

     "You presume a lot about me, sorcerer."

     Gilgamesh walks forward. There is an ambient displeasure about him. "Boredom is something only modernity knows. A disease of wasting from the illusion of choice. Meaninglessness compounded into meaninglessness. What I hate above all else? That isn't for your ears. Such a thing is clutched private to my breast for more reasons than you could ever imagine."

     He stops at a line. He's a fair distance away from Strange, but they both know he doesn't *need* to get closer. The Gate of Babylon's not at full strength but judging by Gilgamesh's willingness to test the body with a launched blade it's at least enough for a killing stroke if he really wants one. His fingers drum against his hip. He listens to Strange with a surprising degree of patience for a man supposedly so thoroughly self-absorbed, red eyes flickering the whole time, that expression of displeasure writ upon his face.

     "Are you done?"

     Gilgamesh tilts his head up, his red eyes flickering. "/I/ am what came before you," he says, his voice cold, "/I/ am what laid the foundations of law and justice. This present world is *not* better. It is a miserable mess of needless rules and restrictions to tie the hands of justice and keep it from escaping while it is beaten to death. It is not for me to defend my way. I have done so time and time again. I have explained over and over, in endless, agonizing detail, why men should not rule men, why the law should be simple and clean, why all things as they are are the result of believing that life is sacred even as it is spent through pointless hypocrisy."

     "/You/ tell /me/ how what you have achieved - this rotten place where you are willing to stand up for a guilty man and be a shield to criminals hiding in shadows and relying on secrecy to avoid judgement - is better than /my/ way. That is *your* supposition. *Not* mine."

     "I took no such oath."
Doctor Strange      Strange shifts in his chair, which creaks slightly. He gives a slight grunt of discomfort. "You laid /a/ foundation," he says, his face more or less the same neutral frown it usually is--barring those annoyed squints he's prone to, or the odd sardonic chuckle. Gilgamesh is not one upon whom he feels the need to levy those expressions. "And I respect you for it. But things change, O King. You came before the Paladins, but so did the Union."

     "Being better than them might not seem like much of an accomplishment to you, but it's a founding principle on which this institution was built. I joined them because I believe in the idea of justice, and law, but also on accountability, responsibility, cooperation with, not coercion of, governments." He leans forward and rests his chin upon his hands.

     "So, what has that accomplished us?" One hand slowly wanders up to stroke his goatee. "You see it as standing up for a guilty man. I see it as protecting our reputation. See.. if we don't have a reputation for killing people whenever we don't get our way, more people will work with us, and we spend less time killing people for not working with us, which means we can spend more time on things that are actually important to us."

     "We also have money. Like, a lot of money. The Ad Coelum, Corpus Juris, the extensive libraries on law, the scrying pools, the biochem facilities..." He lists each one with a finger, rattling each of them off. "We have that, without having to worry about a bottom line, because we have our reputation as 'the good guys.' Because people give that stuff to us without expecting us to give back. Not because they're afraid of us, or because they're secretly criminals. Because they believe in what we're trying to do."

     He pauses. Tilts his head slightly. "You want to brooch that one, too, your majesty?" Strange clears his throat. "The... sanctity of life thing. I'm a doctor... so... you probably know where I stand on that, but, uh..." The sorcerer clicks his tongue. "I think I can actually, y'know... explain it, instead of just telling you I'm right and expecting you to believe me."
Gilgamesh      "These people attempted to assassinate two heads of state of their own world."

     Gilgamesh lays it on the line, leaning forward to look Strange in the eye. "This is not an unlawful execution. This is not because we did not get our way. It is because these people sent us, knowingly, into a breach that had every potential to kill us without telling us." He straightens. "The Mage's Association knew. We have established this. It can also be assumed, since they had the Crystal Valley under watch, that they kept watch on the movement of the creature. They presumably knew its location. Its direction. They did not warn me. They did not contact me. They did not tell me anything. They did not tell the Paladins anything."

     "What do I take away from that, sorcerer?" Gilgamesh's lips curl into a sneer. "Do I take away that it was an honest mistake? That I should believe it to be merely a foolish error? A confluence of confusion?"

     "Or do I take it to be an intentional attempt on my life and my kingdom?"

     "I do not believe in killing people when I do not get my way," Gilgamesh says coldly, "And I dislike that you believe that I do. I am the King. I kill men for crimes they have committed because *that is the way you show men that all are equal under the law*. You think people cheer when you keep guilty men alive?" The King's hand goes to his head as he laughs and holds out his arm. "They applaud men like me. They say, finally! Something is being done about the corruption in our system! Something is being done about the wicked ministers who exploit the people! Something is being done!"

     "They despise men like you. They spit on men like you. Perhaps not now. They will cheer you while you are serving them, but the instant you turn to serve a wicked man they will spit. And you will, because that is what your laws encourage. Because that is what your way desires. When you protect all men you protect the guilty. When men lead men they seek to be exceptions to their own rules."

     "I do not kill men because they get in my way. If I did, there would be more bodies than there are men in the world." Gilgamesh puts a hand on his hip. "I kill men because they violate the law, and that is the duty of the King - to uphold the law that all men are equal."

     "So what further accountability do you want, sorcerer? I have told you why I am here. I am not here to cajole and compel the Association. I am here to take responsibility for an assassination attempt and mete out the punishment. If the man was willing to tell me who was personally responsible, then I would have spared him, even if he did not know. If he was unwilling, I would take it as collaboration, and execute him on the spot."

     "I do not act according to my whim. I act according to what is right, and what is wrong, and I do not take words on paper that can be changed for convenience to be as important as what is written in stone."
Doctor Strange      Strange meets Gilgamesh's eyes with his own, then shakes his head when the King laughs. "Would we be having this discussion if they'd killed some non-Paladin, non-superhuman president? Would you be so eager to... punish? I don't know. But I know how the rest of us would handle it. We'd get called in to investigate, we'd find the culprit, and we'd turn them over to the relevant authority after taking necessary precautions."

     "That's equal treatment under the law. This... I don't think that's what this is, even if you'd treat everyone else the same way. Your reasons for your actions are just as important as your actions. It's possible to do the right thing for the wrong reason. Not that I think it's the right thing to kill somebody as, what, an example?" He shrugs.

     "Anyway. If you and Edison think this is the only time you're gonna be under the crosshairs, well, you've got another think coming." To this point, he's kept that neutral expression, but that utterance does cause a mirthless chuckle. "I'm willing to be despised and spit on if it means doing my job. I took this job knowing I would be, sooner or later. At least whoever hates me'll be alive to do the hating."

     "I joined knowing that if I broke the spirit of the compact, the others /would/ hold me accountable. At least, I thought I did. Now, I'm not so sure. God," he says, now between bitter and unrestrained laughter, "Did you hear the radio that night? At least /you/ were just going after the one guy. Everybody else... they were so busy debating what the best way to kick the snot out of a bunch of uninvolved desk jockeys, nobody even bothered to ask whether they /should./"

     "I'd rather be a shield to somebody in good faith and get stabbed in the back than pick and choose who I protect and when. That's my position from an ethical standpoint. From a practical standpoint, the Association can be useful to us and I don't want to waste our resources mending fences or fighting against them because you took it personally when one of their lackeys wouldn't tell you which mustache-twirler tried to tie you to the train tracks."
Gilgamesh      "Yes."

     Gilgamesh looks actively insulted and extremely angry at Strange's suggestion. "/All men/ are equal under the law, Doctor Strange. /All men/. The lowliest, most worthless beggar to the highest office. That I think their lives hold no value does not mean that I think this is not stil true." There is a rumbling sense of building power around Gilgamesh, probably more instinct than anything, anger welling up around him in a palpable form. His eyes are a blazing red. "You have decided to project upon me what is not there, sorcerer, to imagine that you know me intimately and judge me for doing what is my right and my duty to do. You have decided to impose upon me your bias, your assumption, because you believe that I am nothing but a reckless god-king who treats human lives as toys."

     Gilgamesh's nostrils flare. "I am not. I do not toy with human lives. They have no value. I will not act to defend them. But that is not because I am cruel. It is because I have seen what they can be, and I know that this way will not help them, and I know that /the way things are now/ benefits only one type of person - those who *write the law*."

     Gilgamesh spreads his arms. "That is what you *do not understand*. The law of this time is not sacred. It is not meaningful. It is worthless paper made into a shield to defend the people it should not defend, and injure those it should not injure. That you believe that the only reason I would do this is because it is me proves that you do not even understand this simple fact."

     He jerks his thumb at himself, and the red light in his eyes flares, and magic circuits blaze along his face in visible crimson lines. "I am the King!"

     "My word is the law! And thus is my word made sacred! And thus is my word made *sacrosanct!* I do not lie! I do not say what I do not mean!"

     "I do not care about each individual worthless scrabbling maggot but I care when something like this occurs! I care when people believe that it does not apply to them! I care when humans attempt to excise themselves and hide from judgement, because that is my role and my duty!"

     "And that you think I am so ignorant that I have never had a knife to my own throat or an assassin in the dark against me, or that I would deal with them in any other way, is ludicrous!"

     The King takes a breath, and the red light of his eyes dies, and he simply goes back to looking irritated as he runs his hands through his hair. "Yes. And I don't agree with it. I will pick and choose when I intervene but I will not stand by and allow a man to use me and then flee from judgement, nor will I allow those who exist in a state 'beyond the law' to imagine that they can do so. The law is for civilized men. Those who live outside it are barbarians. If they wish to be barbarians, they forfeit the right to its protection. That is how it has always worked, and will always work, whether you wish to admit it or not. That you call them foreigners now instead of barbarians does not change that your nation won't protect those not of its border."
Doctor Strange      "Excuse me?" Strange rises from his chair, despite his wounds complaining and causing him pain. He winces, grunts, and continues after steeling himself. "...you don't treat them like toys. To you, if they're not criminals to be punished, they're window dressing at worst and an audience at best. If I hadn't come in and saved their asses, the people in /your/ kingdom would be dead, twice over. Am I supposed to be your mother, following behind you and cleaning up your messes? Because so far, that's exactly what I've had to do to keep them from dying. If it wasn't for /me/ seeing the value in them, your kingdom would be dirt, a statue, and empty buildings. Then what would you do?"

     "I came from this society, Gilgamesh. I was raised by its laws, I was baptised in the flood of meaningless choices just the same as any of them. I was a worthless scrabbling maggot and now I'm the most important man in the mystical world. I clawed my way back to greatness after fate took it from me, and if you really, really see what humans can be, you would understand that potential is exactly why you shouldn't refuse to intervene. If you were to look at everything I was before the crash that did this," he says, raising his heavily scarred hands for the King to see, "You'd say 'let him die, there are so many others.' And let me tell you, if you think I'm an asshole now, you would have /hated/ me then."

     He fumes silently. "But someone saw enough value in me to call EMS. 911. The doctors, the chirurgeons, the healers, whatever helps you understand. Because they did, here I am." Strange throws both arms wide, the Cloak of Levitation flaring out behind him. "The Sorcerer Supreme. Because of that, I will /never/ treat an individual life as worthless."

     He waves his hand, and the chair behind him is simply gone. The sorcerer has to take a moment to let himself calm down--although his 'agitated' is a lot more sedate than Gilgamesh's, to be sure. He takes a sedate breath. "I understand more than you think I do, O King," he continues less sharply. "I understand that /you believe/ the law of this time isn't sacred. I believe that you believe that. I believe that you believe your word is the law. And if there was ever someone who said what they meant, it's you. But you see--" He chuckles, then winces as his injuries flare up.

     "Ah... if you're the only person..." He stops himself. Enkidu, that's right. "If you're one of /two/ people who believe that, it doesn't matter who sent you, who built you, or how anointed you are. Not to the scrabbling maggots who provide us all our cool stuff. To them, you're just some guy yelling in the street, and it doesn't matter how much apathy or contempt you have for them when /their/ politicians are the ones with their fingers over our off switch. That's the cost of doing business here. If you don't like that, that's fine. You can join the Concord, and I'm sure Lady Priscilla would love to have you. But as long as you're here, this is your reality."

     "You want to hold the Association accountable, fine. I'll help you! They represent everything I hate about magic, and I mean that. But we're not going to ambush a guy and kill him if he doesn't talk. We do it in a way that doesn't reflect badly on this institution, or you do it on your own and I complain to Eryl."
Gilgamesh      "Then complain to him," Gilgamesh says, and moves to leave, "Do what you like. Cry to the leader because you cannot control me."

     He brushes his hair behind his head as he walks away. "I am the King. No matter what you, or anyone else, says or believes, that does not change. I will not change what I believe because the times tell me I should. The times are rotten and corrupt. The times spend men like water and tell me that they are sacred. The times coddle men like children and tell me that it is for the best. Window-dressing? Barely even that. They're maggots. But if you think that all of them would have died, you are a fool." Gilgamesh looks slightly over his shoulder, hands in his pockets. "Those who lived, those who had the will to survive no matter what, bathed in the blood of their fellows, would have come out stronger and better than before. And there are always such men. Greatness is born of tragedy, sorcerer. Your greatness was born of your tragedy. You lost something great and had the will to see it through. But that marks you as remarkable. It does not mark all humans as remarkable. Not without impetus. Not without chance. But so long as men like you exist in the world, people do not receive that chance. They simply sit and suffer in silence until they die."

     "That is far more unbearable a sickness to me than seven billion deaths. Seven billion utterly replacable drones, being spent for nothing."

     "Good-night, sorcerer. Do what you think is best. I am going to find that mage and get what I came for - the name of the guilty, or his death as a warning, I do not care which. The barbarians will have their heads planted upon spears once again."

     "It is the only way to deal with men like this."

     And then he's ascending the stairs.
Doctor Strange      When Gilgamesh turns, he doesn't see the sorcerer has already made his choice--nor the flippant manner in which he states it. Namely, calling from the Sanctum a box of tissues to rest upon his waiting hand. He is a little disappointed by this.

     "Good night, your majesty. Off to go cry now."

     The portal opens upon a scene of the Corpus Juris, and Strange is through it, tissues and all.