[Actually, he's not. At his worst, Gilgamesh would have struck this girl down without hesitation for speaking to him, the King of Heroes, in such a manner. All he does now is narrow his eyes at the insinuation that he would fail at something once his mind was set to it. While true that he is not infallible, Gilgamesh's determination is rarely ever met with an obstacle that he cannot overcome.]

[So, she has insulted him again. He can feel it, his blood beginning to boil. His next draw of breath is shallow, the one exhale forceful through his nose. The next is slower. Controlled. Or rather, at the very edge and limit of his control.]

Consider yourself lucky that I've allowed you to speak to me that way. If you had proven yourself less of an ignorant fool, I would have your tongue.

[He reaches into a pouch at his waist and retrieves a piece of paper, folded neatly and crisply.]

I came here for inspiration, not to purchase anything. You want to help? [He holds the paper between two fingers.] I have a list of parts that need procuring.

[He is still a moment before shaking his head and moving to place the list back.]

Or don't. Your involvement isn't vital. I can find someone more capable to work with.