+- Omni Archive (https://omni.zulenka.com)
+-- Forum: The Omniverse (https://omni.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=4)
+--- Forum: The Underverse (https://omni.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11)
+--- Thread: The Fallen Kings [M] (/showthread.php?tid=3522)
Pages:
1
2
The Fallen Kings [M] - Gilgamesh - 01-10-2016
“Banishment Buster.” Gilgamesh’s face drained of color. Banishment? Swift visions of Dante’s Abyss and Violet flashed by her eyes. The look of seething rage as she crumbled away into black dust. Horror came onto his face as he realized the gravity of the situation. All that was rightfully his could be taken from him and he could do nothing about it.
The King fell to his knees as he could feel his insides dissipating. He felt the crumbly black dust sit and burn at the bottom of his stomach. The searing pain, as if acid was poured upon him, was unbearable. He could feel every fiber of his body being torn away from him. His fingers automatically dug into the ground, needing an outlet for the pain. He looked up at the cur one more time, with more rage than he has ever felt before. He could not let himself be brought down by the insects that crawl beneath his boot.
Gilgamesh tried to speak but the burning pain of his throat being torn apart was too much for him to say anything above a whisper. “I will be back.” He cringed in utter agony as the rest of his body turned into dust and his vision faded to black.
---
His eyes fluttered open upon a blood red sky and his arms in chains. The ground almost seemed as if it was made out of a black soot. Within a split second of coming into consciousness, Gilgamesh began writhing in pain. The steel was glowing a bright red around his limbs was burning his flesh constantly. He screamed into the void but even his voice died out in the endless chasm.
Glowing yellow eyes appeared from the darkness as a small, grey creature appeared from thin air. Its grotesque nails were caked with blood and its disgusting structure made the King want to vomit. It looked as if it had wispy grey hair and it was hunched over with a disgusting, protruding belly. It’s teeth were jagged and uneven and the barbarian had its lower jaw stuck out. This abomination was nothing from the land that the King had previously ruled.
The creature smiled as it saw the King struggling in pain, almost as if he were a trapped bear who had gotten his leg caught. The iron chains stopped burning and Gilgamesh felt a wave of relief. “I see that you’re awake. I was just getting bored, the other one is sadly still unconscious. I now have someone to play with.”
The creature walked over to a pool of lava and pulled out a metal rod that had a foreign insignia on it. A smile curled on his face as he began eying the King’s body. The creature ripped into the King’s armor with ease, tearing a massive hole in the armor and causing it to fall into the ground.
“You dare threaten me! You foul cur with smell the ugly stench of death as I will-”
His elaborate speech was cut off by a scream of pain. The monster stabbed the branding iron right into his chest, causing more of his flesh to burn. The black smoke and smell of charred meat was unbearable and he now had a visible brand of whatever that thing is on his chest.
“How-” The creature stabbed one of its putrid fingers into the King’s stomach. A jolt of pain soared throughout his body.
The creature smiled. “You’re my property now. ” The abomination twirled it’s finger around, lacerating many internal organs before ripping it out of the King’s body. Gilgamesh screamed and he looked at the monster’s atrocious fingers. The sides were barbed and was drenched in blood.
“Oh well look at that. You’re bleeding! Let me take care of that!” The creature jammed the end of the burning, metal rod into the wound. A sick laughter soon ensued as hate filled the creatures eyes.
Gilgamesh let out a primal scream as a gate opened behind him. An array of swords peaked out and the creature’s eyes turned from hate to a brief flicker of fear.
“Th-th-those chains we’re supposed to stop you from using Omnilium.” He turned around and began to run, his grey shape disappearing in the darkness. It seemed the creature turned out to be a coward despite it’s courageous actions.
Gilgamesh screamed as he launched the swords out towards where the unholy abomination was standing. The sound of sword piercing flesh blessed the King’s ears. Four more swords came out and cut the chains that the King was bound by. He dropped to his knees, his golden boots could feel the hatred and the heat that the earth beneath promised. He grabbed one of his nearby swords, as the other’s dissipated into dust, and tore off the chains that had bound him.
He walked over to the fallen creature and with his sword in hand. “Please, give me mer-” The King stabbed the creature in the throat, it’s black blood pouring out of it’s wound. It looked helplessly at Gilgamesh as it began to choke on its own blood. The King’s attacks did not stop. Gilgamesh kneeled over and began to relentlessly stab at the corpse until his blade was coated with blood and its corpse became nothing but an unrecognizable pile of garbage.
Gilgamesh had no words to describe how much rage and hate he felt towards this place as a whole. His expressionless face somehow said it all. He wanted this place to be destroyed bit by bit. He wanted to get out of this hell. He wanted to destroy everything that mouse had remotely cared about. He felt vulnerable and weak. He was no longer the all powerful King of Heroes. He felt helpless here that even the smallest of creatures in this verse could leave such a powerful mark on him.
He began to get up and leave but his strength left him. His arms felt like weights and his legs were now boneless. Blood, Gilgamesh vomited blood everywhere. The pain in his stomach was enormous and he couldn’t help but scream in agony. He couldn’t do anything but sit there and bleed. But Kings aren’t supposed to bleed.
Re: The Fallen Kings [M] - Ganondorf - 01-15-2016
A burning sensation washed through the King of Evil as Victor’s insidious syringe filled his veins with its vile concoction. The pain of the poison and the fire of his rage battled against one another; the Gerudo’s own body and mind their battlefield. He could feel his very essence being ripped asunder by the venom within him and he rebelled against it. No. This… boy would not destroy him that easily! His rage peaked, and for a moment, it seemed as though the fool’s gambit was for naught. The Gerudo King took a menacing step towards the man, single-minded in his desire for vengeance, and for a brief second the blonde cretin’s sadistic grin faltered.
Then the mysterious substance burning its way through Ganondorf renewed its assault and the King fell to his knees. Against the onslaught of searing pain… even the Gerudo’s impressive might was as nothing. Victor’s smirk of triumph returned in full, his demonic eyes seemed to revel in the man’s suffering. The Demon Lord’s vision faltered and faded as the pain became unbearable. Consciousness fled from him like roaches in the light and his body thumped to the dusty ground, unmoving. Soon enough, he was nothing more than dust and ash, picked up by the light breeze and sent out to become one with the desert itself.
Death. It was something that had become most familiar to Ganondorf. Twice before had he felt its cold embrace, and many times more have he nearly succumbed. In this place, this Omniverse, death was nothing to fear; it was nothing more than a brief reprieve from the struggle of life. A short sleep, after which one would awaken refreshed and rejuvenated.
This time, however, something was amiss. Always before, death would take away the pains Ganondorf had suffered under prior to its sweet release. This time, the pain had followed him past the icy threshold. Perhaps it had something to do with the vile elixir that blonde demon had injected him with, but not only had the pain persisted long after the Gerudo’s body had turned to ash, it grew ever stronger. And without the buffer his body provided, Ganondorf’s soul was subjected to the full brunt of the tortuous ordeal. A sadistic mix of sensations ripped through the defenseless man, and if he’d still had lungs he’d have screamed in agony. It made that wizard’s Crucio spell seem like a gentle massage in comparison; a feeling that would make even the most twisted sociopath take pause before considering.
The heat of a thousand suns burned through him, and the cold of the heart of winter froze him to the core. His very essence was torn asunder, twisted like a rope, scattered to the wind, and scoured to the bone. His throat burned for a drop of water, as though he’d never had a taste of that sweet liquid in his life. A million other brutal tortures were inflicted in that moment, that eternity, and the great Demon King found himself offering anything, hoping against hope, that he would simply be destroyed and no longer need suffer through the pain of existence.
That’s when he realized just what Victor had done to him. Ganondorf cursed the man’s name, a detail gleaned from a momentary glimpse of the devilish assassin, and his rage grew. The fool had Banished him! He had Banished the great King of Evil! The Gerudo had heard of this most heinous of punishments, the Dataverse had proven to be a wealth of knowledge about the Omniverse. But to think that HE would have been subjected to such a fate? Inconceivable! Then another thought came to his mind, nearly drowned out under the sea of pain. This pain, this unbearable agony that was washing through him… what if this wasn’t the end? What if this was merely the transferal process? If so… what worse fate awaited the great desert king when he finally passed through to his final destination?
Adrift in a sea of pain, frozen in that void in which time had no meaning, Ganondorf had no idea how long her suffered. The transfer itself was likely instantaneous, the Gerudo’s experience a mere hallucination created by a mind unable to fully grasp the alien sensations brought about by gate travel. Even knowing that meant little in that moment. Even if it was all but a construct of his mind, Ganondorf wanted nothing more than an end to his agony. Slowly, but mercifully, the pain DID subside, and the Gerudo King slipped gratefully into unconsciousness.
A voice reached out to Demon King, floating in from the depths of his subconscious to intrude upon his peaceful slumber.
“Foolish King! You let your guard down. You let that boy ensnare you in his trap and THIS is your reward!”
It was Demise. They may call Ganondorf the Demon King, but it was Demise who truly deserved the title. Every time the Gerudo was at his lowest, the bastard took the opportunity to twist a knife in his ribs. To belittle and insult him. The beast’s voice like brimstone boiling in a volcano, dangerous and unwholesome. The dark-skinned man balked at the demon’s words, the black landscape of his mind tinging red with his irritation.
“The dog had a far more potent weapon in his arsenal than I’d have given him credit for…” Ganondorf begrudgingly admitted in a low mutter. “Had it been a fair fight, I’d-“
Demise’s laughter cut him off, a deep throaty sound filling the Gerudo’s mind. When he spoke, it was with thinly veiled conceit.
“Fair? Boy, life itself is not fair! More than that, you pride yourself on your cunning victories. You should have been prepared for an opponent who could use your own tricks against you!”
At those words, lightning flashed within the darkness of the Gerudo’s unconscious, his fury growing to a head.
“Boy?!” Ganondorf shouted incredulously. “I tire of your-“
Once again Demise cut him off, but this time the demon’s voice held a tone of urgency in it which demanded that Ganondorf be silent.
“Channel your rage in the right direction, Scion of my Power. They’ve captured you. It’s time you awaken and free yourself of their shackles. Awaken, Ganondorf, lest you remain asleep forever!”
The demon’s command was so imperious, that even in the Gerudo’s anger at him, there was no choice but to do as he was told. His eyes opened, and with their opening, the world around him became clear. The pains of his battle returned, but they were ignored for the scene in which he had found himself. He was right to worry about what awaited him after his journey here. No… he should have been much more concerned.
Quote:1,122 words total, thus far. 18,878 remaining for the minimum word count.
Re: The Fallen Kings [M] - Gilgamesh - 03-01-2016
Droplets of blood dropped from Gilgamesh’s mouth, causing ripples in the pool of blood the King had created. He attempted to stand back on his feet, however black spots quickly danced before his eyes. The blood loss made him feel woozy, and unable to even walk properly. His stomach bleeding and charred from the short period of agony he was forced to endure by the abomination.
A soothing, caring voice came to his head. Just sit down for a while. Everything will be fine and you’ll find your way out of here. Gilgamesh ranted at the remark, his toxic spit flying out of his mouth. “Those mongrels will know the true meaning of hell when I escape. I will tear down everything that they hold dear to them!” Gilgamesh screamed, baring his blood-stained teeth at nothing. His breaths became heavier as he limped away from his temporary prison. The King looked down to his stomach, grimacing as he saw the scar of his charred flesh covering the gash in his stomach. His fingers traced the outline of the mark, his body permanently destroyed by that creature.
Gilgamesh heard a barely audible groan come from his left. Gilgamesh eyes darted to the left, his pupils narrowing and his heart rate shot up. He raised his sword quickly to see nothing but a small figure in the distance. A wave of relief hit the King of Heroes as he realized nothing was going to attack him in such a vulnerable state. Gilgamesh walked immediately towards the direction of the figure, if that mongrel was in any similar situation to Gilgamesh he could get the aid of that man. Having a servant down here seemed more beneficial than attempting to leave this place alone and if that man wouldn’t want his help...Gilgamesh glanced at his blade before scowling. This blade was already stained with the blood of the unworthy and corrupt, he might as well use it down here.
The King of Heroes’ face turned into a cruel smile as he saw the victim of these chains. The small figure in the distance became ever more familiar, the red hair and sickly colored skin was recognizable from almost anywhere. Gilgamesh couldn’t help but walk a little faster towards his old enemy, if he couldn't take out his vengeance upon that pesky mouse he would most certainly take it out on that arrogant fool who calls himself a King. It was perfect, the Gerudo was in chains similar to how Gilgamesh was bound, but that pesky abomination was gone, Ganondorf was now his to play with. Ganondorf was visibly unharmed saved for a few bruises.
The Gerudo hazily opened his eyes awake to feel the sharp tip of Gilgamesh’s blade upon his neck and the sadistic smile that was placed on his face. “You’ve fallen as well? Not surprising coming from someone of your caliber.” The Gerudo mocked the King, with a slick smile and venom tracing every one of his words. Gilgamesh’s smirk had disappeared and he pressed the tip of his blade a little harder into the Gerudo’s throat causing a small trickle of blood to trail down the blade.
“I see you continue to have a sharp tongue Gerudo. I hope you don’t mind when I cut out your tongue, pig. ” He took the blade off of Ganondorf’s chest and placed the flat end against his cheek. The Gerudo’s expression didn’t charge, “Your threats do not frighten me, you being down here is proof that one of my lessers had done their job correctly.” His snide nature, irritating the very essence of the King of Heroes.
“If you recall, I believe I had bested you in the event Dante’s Abyss. I think I have given you plenty of reason to fear me, and I will continue to give you reason down here.” Gilgamesh smirked as he brought back his arm to plunge his sword into the depths of Ganondorf’s stomach. The chains tensed up and creaked underneath Ganondorf’s force, the sword piercing his stomach for a second before the chains all together broke.
“What?!” Gilgamesh’s eyes widened as the Gerudo’s fist cracked into his face, flinging him across the red dirt. Confusion spread across his face to see why the chains broke but he couldn’t help but smirk at a bit of the realization. He had been given the same look when he had broken the chains but expected them to pull it’s weight. Only his treasures were of any quality and shouldn’t have trusted any cut rate fakes. He put his hand up to his now bruised cheek and glared at the recently freed mongrel.
“Not so smug now are you?” Ganondorf mocked before he saw Gilgamesh standing up sword in hand. “I’ll be grateful and smug when mongrels like you are put in their place.” Gilgamesh charged towards Ganondorf, as the Gerudo began to summon his own pair of swords. The King of Heroes tainted sword clashed with those of Demise, the Gerudo’s massive swords easily outclassing his tormented treasure. Gilgamesh stepped to the side, redirecting the massive swords into the ground. He scoffed as he brought up his sword to decapitate the large gerudo but Ganondorf easily brought up his sword to match his. The Gerudo’s sly smirk still pissed of Gilgamesh.
Gilgamesh jumped back, bring his sword up defensively. His head was spinning, his wounds accumulating and Ganondorf could read that like a book.The Gerudo ran towards him, swords in hand and shoved the King of Heroes into the ground before clashing with his weapons. Gilgamesh felt his strength leaving him as the swords were pushed closer and closer to his face. Before... relief, the pressure stopped and the Gerudo’s smug expression wiped away. Gilgamesh smirked as he saw his limp body hit the floor next to him. Gilgamesh smiled until he saw the demon before him hit him in the face as well.
And the two rival kings plunged into darkness.
Quote: 2040 words done, 17980 to meet the criteria
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Gilgamesh - 07-16-2016
The sounds of rattled chains clanked around Gilgamesh’s ears. The floor beneath him had an icy and slick feeling to it. He placed his rugged hands onto the floor, blood slowly oozing out onto the floor from many cuts over his torso. The cloud of darkness around him was palpable and thick like a heavy fog. Gilgamesh reached out to find something that would give him something to base himself off of. Slowly shuffling and tripping over a few cracks on the floor, he eventually found himself a wall to lean against.
From the veil of shadows came a deep, familiar laughter. “Your bumbling around never ceases to amuse me Gilgamesh. No wonder Nippur was so easily felled.” The Gerudo’s lips curled into a smirk. Ganondorf’s wrists, shins, and neck were bound by thick iron cuffs leaving him unable to move a single muscle in his body.
Gilgamesh opened a golden portal, yet it’s shining brilliance brought no light to the room. He extended his hand and started grasping around the air for a hold of the bloodied sword. After several tries, the King was able to grab a hold of the hilt of the weapon and pointed it towards the source of the voice. He shout out into the darkness ahead of him, “Come out mongrel, I will still exterminate you... even in this darkness!”
“Darkness?” The gerudo’s voice left the air with a hint of confusion. Ganondorf’s face smirked as Gilgamesh cluelessly stumbled in his direction. The defiled King of Heroes has tears of blood dried upon his porcelain face and dark, empty caverns where his dainty glass eyes should be. “You seem to be in less than pristine condition I see,” the Gerudo said slyly.
Gilgamesh sneered in the voice’s general direction, “We will see how much pride you have left when your head is underneath my boot.” Gilgamesh’s hand reached to rub his eye but receive no resistance when his fingers reached his eyelid. The next moments flew by in a blur, both of his hands attempting to comprehend that his eyes had be scooped out of his skull. A giant weight accumulated onto his chest and the King couldn’t help but fall to his knees. His teeth grit together in agony as a feeling of fury and defilement overcame him.
“You will pay for this you meaningless insect,” Gilgamesh stood up, the tears of blood demonizing his face and his sword dragging on the ground, grinding upon the rugged stone. The sound of shifting gears echoed throughout the chamber and the stone walls slowly rose, releasing small pebbles and dust. A horde of goblin like creatures entered the room slowly surrounding the blind Gilgamesh. The sly giggles and the sheer number of creatures backed the King of Heroes into a corner.
A small gleaming item flashed in the Gerudo’s eyes. The small twinkle of light revealed a key that was placed around one of the Goblins’ neck. Ganondorf fought to break free of his chains but they were bound too tight. “Gilgamesh, I believe we may have shared interests. Just follow my orders and we can get out of this.”
The Golden King spat back venomously, “A King never takes orders. I will slay these mutts quickly, with vengeance, and without your help.” He pointed up his sword at the unknowingly large horde of creatures. “I have defeated armies. What makes you think you can best m-” A club rammed into his bare chest, forcing the air to escape his lungs. He attempted to gasp for air as he slaced into the darkness, feeling his cold blade sink into warm flesh.
“Parry above you now!” the gerudo shouted. Gilgamesh scoffed until another club smacked his head, causing him to lose consciousness for a brief moment. The taste of blood flowed through his mouth like a river and his brain felt like it was pressed to the bottom of his skull. He sliced out and heard a yelp before Ganondorf shouted another direction. Instead a icey blade stuck into his stomach and another blow into his arm, dislocating his shoulder. Gilgamesh pushed himself up, attempting to ignore the pain and began to slice wildly into random directions of the darkness. The Goblins were more aware now and slowly timed their attacks, as Gilgamesh would swing a flurry of blows into the air a few goblins would slice at legs and arms. Gilgamesh screamed as the goblins laughter echoed throughout his head.
“I am not a toy to be played with. I will obliterate everything that you are.” His rage palpable in the room. The Gerudo was frustrated with the King’s arrogance and his stubborn attitude. “Block to your right side!” The Gerudo spoke quietly, knowing fully that Gilgamesh would likely not respond to his commands.
“Fine!” Gilgamesh screamed as his blade rushed to defend his side. A small dagger collided hopelessly with the King’s treasure and Gilgamesh struck back. He thrust his sword in front of him, impaling the Goblin. His smile of satisfaction quickly faded as another blow struck his head and his body no longer responded. His body crumpled to the ground and the group of goblins began to hold his body up upon his knees, his head dangling in a state between consciousness and unconsciousness. A looming figure that wasn’t the gerudo spoke from the darkness.
“This one was unimpressive. Deal with him.” Gilgamesh raised his head up to contest with his statement but words fell short of him. A blade rose up to his neck and with a quick slice, blood began to drain from Gilgamesh’s body. He was suddenly dropped to the floor, his own pool of blood beginning to suffocate him. The Golden King managed to gargle his last words, “You...are going to let me bleed out like a pig?”
The cold voice responded with a slight prod with his leg. “Because that is all you are to me,” were the last words Gilgamesh heard before his life slipped away from his fingertips.
Quote: 3046 words done 16954 left to meet the criteria
The Entertainment - Gilgamesh - 09-09-2016
Gilgamesh’s eyes fluttered awake as the splintery, wooden floor of his cage rumbled beneath his body. His body attempted to sit up but the roof of the cage was much smaller than the King would have liked. His hands chained to the floor like some sort of caged animal available for show. Gilgamesh’s face contorted in confusion and anger as he wondered what was going on. Where was he? Why was he bound in a cage? More of these questions flooded his mind with no available answers.
A burning pain seared across Gilgamesh’s wrist, a scar slowly began to materialize, almost marking his first death of many in this godless world. Gilgamesh’s hands jolted back, yanking upon the rusty chains that somehow had the strength to hold. His cage was led by what seemed to be a carriage with a single silhouette holding the reins. The horses however, were a pitch black color and had almost no meat upon their bones. Their blood red eyes, matched their blood-matted fur. The figure turned his head, at the sound of the jingling chains.
His soft, silky voice spoke, “You’re awake...Good. I need to see if you can fight.” His elvish ears and charcoal skin provided a contrast backdrop to his red eyes. His shaggy hair hung just above his eyes and his goatee comically curled up. “You sir, put me in a good mood. Finding an unconscious prime out in the middle of a street? Now that’s rare.” His lips curled into a cheeky grin and his eyes darted back into the road.
“Free me now insect. Your bastardized blood cannot contain me.” Gilgamesh screamed at the devil spawn. The bastard flicked his wrist and the iron chain around Gilgamesh’s wrists retracted more into the cage, forcing the King’s face to the floor and his wrists twisted in an almost comical position.
The bastard went on, “It seems this one has a cheeky tongue. My name is Murmur and you will work for me. Welcome to your personal hell that you will never be able to escape from.” The creature whispered while stifling a sadistic laughter, “Not even in death.” His slender fingers traced upon the side of his pants, softly grabbing a hold of something inside of his suit. “Good. We’re here.”
The strong smell of sulfur and iron forced its way up the Fallen King’s nose. The world around him became almost like a small village, very quaint other than the the constant fire and suffering. Gilgamesh eyes scowled at the mongrel for parading him around as if he were some caged circus animal. The cart came to a grinding halt and the King’s body crashed against the wooden bars of his prison. Murmur stepped down from his seat and walked over to Gilgamesh. His hand raised up and softly grabbed the King by the chin, examining his eyes and other facial features.
“If I’m lucky you’ll make me a profit. So do good. Or else.” Two larger goblin-like creatures came and picked up Gilgamesh in his cage. Gilgamesh comically flipped on his side, unable to get back up like a turned over turtle. He couldn’t do anything, he was helpless.
“Where are you taking me you mutts? I will end you!” the Fallen King screamed. However, the goblins were unphased by the empty threats that this declawed cat hissed. The pair were bringing him to the largest building of the town, a small, run-down colosseum. It was almost laughable that they would dare enslave him and bring him to this shit-hole of all places. He would not fight for their entertainment, he would rather burn in hell than be made a fool of in front of these abominations.
The goblins came to a stop and opened the door to his tiny prison. “Yes! Release me you animals.” But Gilgamesh’s satisfaction was short lived as the two threw the cage into a bigger cell. The wooden cage cracked into little shards, sending splinters and wooden shards into Gilgamesh’s skin. The shackles around his wrists release themselves and disappear into the air, leaving the Fallen King in a cell full of slaves and deserters. “Pathetic,” the King murmured to himself as he pulled out the wooden shards from his leg. Blood slowly trickled down as he removed the shank-like objects from his body and tossed it outside the cage. The idea of one of the mongrels stabbing him with it in his sleep almost seemed plausible.
The stench was horrible from these mongrels. The group reeked of sweat and blood and seem to not have cleaned themselves for quite some time. The dirt clung to their faces like the way the insects clung to their fragile life. Gilgamesh walked over and sat in the corner away from the insects, with a heavy feeling of dread in his chest. His heart felt as if it was dragging on the floor and his ribcage almost too tight for his lungs.
Was this what he is going to become? Was he really a slave, only to be used for the fights and carnage? His brow furrowed and he grit his teeth. How could the original and only King be now forced to fight for the common people’s entertainment. How pathetic. He had to find a way out, or at least get out of this colosseum. If he couldn’t escape he would earn his freedom, especially if that means he would have to slaughter all of the mutts who were in this room.
A wicked smirk curled across his face and the other slaves stared in confusion and fear as the new prime eyed all of them, accessing that they were all worthless beings. It wouldn’t take much effort to slay all of them, all Gilgamesh would need is the time...and the audience.
Quote: 4016 words total, 15984 left to go
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Gilgamesh - 02-06-2018
Loud bangs on the bars resonated throughout the cell. A goblin in armor angrily glared into the cell as he pounded on the metal cage. “You animals better not touch each other while you’re in there with each other. There’ll be plenty of time to do the tomorrow.” The goblin ended the last sentence with a bit of glee. His excitement for the oncoming bloodshed clear in his beady eyes.
Gilgamesh couldn’t help but smirk. The armor fit the goblin almost as well as pants fit a dog, barking orders unknowingly to a power much higher than he. He could see him as a dog now, yipping away to seem scarier than he actually is.
“Hey you. What are you so happy about?” The goblin shouted into the cage. His breathing became short and labored as a boar when it is about to charge. The King couldn’t stop comparing this furious goblin with a variety of dumb animals.
Gilgamesh stood up and walked over to the goblin, looking down at him with nothing but the bars standing in between them.“Are you speaking to me you pathetic runt?” He raised an eyebrow, “Because you seem to forget your place in this world. I may be in bars, but I am a prime and a King and you will fear me.” The satisfaction of humiliating someone lesser of him reminded him of when he was back on top...for a second.
“Are you done?” The goblin sneered at him, before unsheathing some sort of weapon and pressing it against his skin. Electricity flowed from this foreign machine into his body, contracting all of his muscle and fell to the ground as if he were a puppet with his strings cut. “That’ll teach you to disrespect your superiors, slave. You may be a prime, but you are nothing here. The lord of Terror is the only prime that gets respect.”
Gilgamesh got onto one knee before the goblin tazed him again. “Learn your place and life here might be easier.” The goblin snickered and put his boot in the king’s face. The dirt caked shoe smeared its filth over his face and his golden hair. The boot pushed off with a final kick, forcing Gilgamesh’s face into the ground, stirring up dust. The goblin sat back down in his chair, looking happy with himself and began his shift supervising the prisoners.
Gilgamesh’s eyes flared with intense hatred as he got up off the ground and spat out the dirt from his mouth. The feeling of being horribly helpless was incredibly infuriating. In his time here, he has had no success in crushing resistant pests. Whether it be other primers, or even secondaries, these people seem to be on par or even have greater power than Gilgamesh. Those who disrespect him can’t get away with it...can they?
It would be impossible for a God to believe that people were on level with him. But if he were no longer a god, then he could do nothing to stop them. One would have to act as if he were human, playing silly politics to get his enemies to help him and use subterfuge to get ahead. The mere thought of it disgusted him. He was used to using people and gaining their trust when he had all the power, but the idea of needing others.
His heart dropped. He needed others. He cannot be a god by himself anymore, especially not in this verse. He would have to gather allies, and to...ugh be nice to people. Maybe stop calling people mongrels, even if they deserved it.
A slight tap on the shoulder startled the God-King. His head shot up, now seeing one of the prisoners that was in here before. The boy couldn’t of been older than 16, his skin a smooth caramel and his brown hair just covering his eyes. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been down there a while.”
Gigamesh snapped out of his internal trance and stood up off the ground. The boy didn’t look like he could do much, his body sparse with muscle and his cheekbones seemed hollowed from hunger. However, he did survived this place so far so he must have some use. This could be a start. He feigned a sheepish smile. However, asking him for a polite smile was like asking him to pull out teeth. It looked painful at best.
“If you don’t want help, then you’re doing a great job,” the kid snapped. He could see right through the pathetic attempt. His eyes narrowed at Gilgamesh, starting to question whether or not he made the right choice.
Gilgamesh’s chest tightened, for a moment he felt self-pity that he hadn’t earned this child’s trust. “Wait no! His voice wavered in desperation. “I just don’t know who I can trust around here and this is all so new to me. He could feel the sense of truth and vulnerability slip through his lips. How could be brought to this, begging the help of a kid. But he needed to.
The kid looked into his eyes, peering to see if there was any sense of truth to those words. It was suddenly broken by a smile and held back laughter. “You don’t need to beg, I was just messing around with you.” Gilgamesh was taken aback, as the demeanor had completely changed. “You should have seen the look on your face, it was pathetic.” The kid continued to mock.
Gilgamesh’s cheeks flushed red from a mix of embarrassment and anger. His status continued to plummet as long as if he were in this verse. But if were to get out, status should be the last thing on his mind. The need to feel superior cannot control him and should be replaced with the need to survive. He forced a smile to crack on his face and laughed with the child.
“Respect to how you stood up to the guard. Good on ya for standing up for yourself, even if it did mean you were made a fool of afterwards.” His voice was too comfortable, too happy and it jarred with how the world seemed to embody. The other faces in the room seemed distraught and tortured while his seemed a little peppy. How could he remain happy in this world.
Before Gilgamesh could get another word in he was pulled to the floor next to him. “So I overheard that you were a prime.” His demeanor changed and was a lot more reserved. “I think we could end up helping each other over here. I know how this place works, and you are...well probably pretty powerful.”
The King looked at the boy in a different light. He wasn’t some childish kid or a fool. He was an actor, a politician who played his strengths and was better at this game. Gilgamesh didn’t care about how this world worked. He wanted the knowledge to play people, and hopefully he could learn something.
“That sounds pretty nice for the both of us,” His lips curled into a smile.
“Perfect. The name’s Jonas, and yours?” Gilgamesh had to think. How could he make himself more plebeian. Gilgamesh is a very pompous name, and he shouldn’t give off that impression.
“My name is Gil.”
______________________
The blazing, hot sun rose flooding the cell with light. He recoiled from the sudden light, his back aching from the sudden change of egyption cotton sheets to the dusty ground. The other prisoners woke up, but looked of death and has a sense of resignation in their eyes.
“Wake up ya animals. It’s time for you to die.” The same runt of a goblin shouted to the soon-to-be-gladiators. Keys rattled from his waist as he unlocked the cell door. Without complaint the prisoners got up from their seats from the ground and lined up outside the cell without instruction. Jonas got up from next to him and fell into line as well.
“Are we going to have a problem, oh so powerful prime.” The goblin sarcastically commented. He reached his hand for the taser and Gilgamesh put his hands up in a disarmed manner.
He feigned a smile while gritting his teeth. ”No. No we will not.” He walked over to the line with his hands remaining in the air. The line began to move itself, dredging like a morbid conga line. This line moved without any emotion, walking as if by muscle memory. Gilgamesh leaned forward to whisper to Jonas before being tazed by the goblin walking behind him.
“No talking!” He shouted, he thought for a second before smiling. “Or you can keep talking, I don’t mind doing this.” He snickered before walking ahead and opening the door of a chamber. “Get in there before I murder you myself.” He yelled at the gladiators before shoving Gilgamesh into the room.
Gil fell onto the floor, glaring at the door that just shut. He gathered himself before standing himself and dusting off his already filthy clothes. He searched for Jonas around the room and ran up to him, standing near him.
“What are we headed to.” But as soon as Jonas was about to speak gears began to whir and the floor jolted up, slowly elevating. Gil looked up to see the ceiling begin to retract within itself.
“We’re in for some fun,” Jonas’ serious face turned into a devilish smile. Gilgamesh looked surprised as the rest of the group looked in fear. He looked and found a few had soiled themselves before they had reached the top.
“What the fuck.” The small town’s arena had filled and reminded him of when he was the one sitting upon the throne.
“Welcome to the arena! These pathetic worms will fight for their lives against the best that the Lord of Terror has to offer.” The voice boomed across the arena. “The last prisoner standing gets to live!”
Gilgamesh’s head was spinning as so much was going on. The group of gladiators ran to the walls to gather any forms of weapons as doors in the wall of the arena fell. He turned his head to stick by Jonas but he was already off ripping a mace off of the wall. So much for teaching me how this place works.
Before Gil was able to get his own weapon, a loud rumble echoed throughout the arena. His head turned to the door and his heart fell. Amalgam’s of flesh and metal exited the arena, charging towards the gladiators. Roars exited their cavernous mouths, as they brandished the swords they had for arms. It was all happening so quickly as many of the gladiators were falling as they tried to fend for themselves. The swords slicing clean through the flesh, blood splattering onto the sand. The horrors would soon be coming for him if he didn’t defend himself.
“Hey pay attention, you’ll be useless if you stand gawking like that.” Jonas shoved Gil aside as he began to dispatch the other gladiators without hesitation. Unimpressive.
A monster of metal and flesh paused from its slaughter, its gaze falling upon the stationary King. It’s flesh separated from its metal form a makeshift mouth and roared, charging towards the King. Gilgamesh looked around for anything to serve as a weapon, not noticing all of the carnage and blood that lay on the ground. A glint of steel lay in the ground, caked in blood and rust. Gilgamesh dashed to grab it, the abomination slashing the back of his leg as he jumped to get it.
He landed, rolling over a slashed carcass, grabbing the sword in the process. He raised the sword, pointed at the creature attacking him. The creature quickly turned on its feet, charging like a bull at Gil. The creatures swords were pointed to pierce Gilgamesh. Now armed, his face was calm, ready for the barbarian to attack. As the creatures rushed to kill him, he swung his sword, driving the creatures arms into the dirt. With a flowing motion he was able slice into the creatures skull, slicing through its flesh until it collided with solid metal. The creature screamed, its pain heard across the arena.
The announcer's voice boomed through the arena once more, “ Wow folks, it seems like someone is actually putting up a fight this time.”
“ Ugh you all are so annoying,” he sighed before stabbing the creature in the eye, causing the creature to sink into the ground. He pulled the rusty sword from the body of the creature and wiped it’s viscous, black blood onto its horrid body. Gil peered around to see if Jonas was still alive, with him cheerfully avoiding contact with these abominations.
Gil made eye contact with Jonas who was genuinely confused. Jonas mouthed to Gil, “Why do you draw attention to yourself?” Jonas’ eyes widened as more abominations charged Gil, and he tried to stay on the edge, avoiding detection.
Yeah avoiding attention will get me places. I don’t care how painful death is...I will be known. I will get stronger allies He smirked as the amalgams surrounded him.
“Looks like we go a bold gladiator here. Let’s see how spectacularly and gruesomely he dies,” the announcer’s voice shouted with glee. His voice dripped with excitement.
The monsters circled Gil, much more sensibly, rather than charge in and fall like their comrade. One amalgam struck out, swinging it’s arm out. Gil easily tossed the sword aside before another slashed out, rushing to parry it’s sword. He managed to misdirect the blow from his vital organs to slicing the muscle in his arm. Gilgamesh got bold and retaliated at the monster by piercing into it’s chest. A smirk grew on his face as his blade felt soft flesh, but was quickly abated by the stabbing pain in his back. He let out a scream of rage as he managed to avoid the blade of another creature while slashing into another. A sword went through his shoulder, then his thigh. Gil couldn’t go on the offensive. He parried two blows but one managed to stab him in his stomach. Blood spurted out of his mouth and he hunched over attempting to properly wield his sword. He couldn’t defend himself. He was going to die.
” I’ll take you with me!.” Gilgamesh lunged and was able to plunge his sword in a monster’s chest, as numerous plunged into his. The cold steel pierced his organs and cut his heart in two. Agony filled his mind a second before nothing but calmness washed over. Gil exploded into fractions of golden dust and his mind turned blank.
_______________
Gilgamesh awakened to an all familiar cell with no one else in there but Jonas. How did he survive? A searing pain forced Gil to cringe. A second line appeared on his wrist...marking his deaths here. He cannot escape.
Quote:6525 words done
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Sasuke Uchiha - 02-07-2018
Putrid, vile, and profuse, the crimson skies of the Underverse, like a shroud, wrapped the environment in an inescapable taint. Sorrow, agony, and malevolence colored not only the Gothic Victorian style of Diablo’s Black Kingdom, but that of each and every one of its many denizens as well. Atop this nightmarish hellscape erected a proverbial and irrefutable embodiment of dominance and control: Diablo’s ever seeing, ever watchful eye. Engulfed in a blazing, dance of fire, nothing escaped its gaze, certainly least of most, the coliseum.
An attraction of infamous renown in this verse. Day after day, its stands were filled with crazed fanatics and its earth sullied with the blood of the fallen. Even early in its conception, rumors of fame, glory, and the Dark Lord’s favor sparked an interest that spread like wildfire. All tested their grit upon the blood stained sands; Diablo’s hordes, banished primes, and secondarys alike. Most of whom, however, had never exceeded their expectations quite like that of the current reigning champion: Allanon.
Undefeated, and with thirty-five hard fought victories, Allanon’s run in the coliseum was truly remarkable. Not only that, but the bastard seemed to enjoy sadism. Notorious for tormenting his prey and forgoing quick deaths, Allanon had become a crowd favorite in a world full of ravenous killers. He belonged here, came alive under the dark lord’s eye, and had no designs of escaping the Underverse. Believing himself a reckoning, there was no better verse more deserving of his ilk.
Standing seven foot seven, Allanon was a goliath; his presence easily discernible as he strolled the overlooking balcony festooned to be the winner’s quarters. Seasoned warriors seemed to occupy less space as the brute inspected the day’s amenities. A bountiful feast had been provided for the more successful killers, wrought with the nefarious food items, pleasures, and various delicacies of hell. Thundering sounds of the crowd roared overhead as the day’s events began to unfold.
“Welcome to the arena! These pathetic worms will fight for their lives against the best that the Lord of Terror has to offer. The last prisoner standing gets to live!” A loud voice boomed across the arena as gears began to rotate, the coliseum doors raised, and gladiators spilled onto the battlefield.
“Just like you wanted champ,” sneered a gruesome flesh, metal monstrosity of a combatant, “looks like we got a new batch of fresh meat to play with, aye, Allanon?” The monster known as Scripper cackled with gleeful anticipation.
Under a fiery crimson sun, a gong sounded, and chaos consumed the battlefield below. A fray of combatants, weapons, and metal clashed against a fierce eruption from the crowd. Allanon couldn’t be bothered. He stood unmoved, unattached, and emotionless, before finally turning to leave, seemingly unimpressed.
The announcer's booming voice came once more, “Wow folks, it seems like someone is actually putting up a fight this time.”
Allanon stopped his advancement.
Talent revealed itself in the form of a blonde warrior emerging victorious in multiple exchanges early on in the skirmish. “Looks like we got a bold gladiator here. Let’s see how spectacularly and gruesomely he dies,” the announcer’s voice shouted with glee. His voice dripped with excitement.
“Awe, will look at that,” Scripper, the amalgamation from before hollered, excited by the feats of a golden warrior, “We got a lively one boys!” Adjacent to the monster, Allanon had reappeared, his interest along with him, finally starting to peak.
Announcer, “Aaaaaaaand he’s dead. Looks like that’s it for Goldilocks, folks. Good show, I’m told that one was prime, though. So, don’t worry folks, that won’t be the last of old Goldie!”
Scripper tuned to say something, but Allanon had vanished.
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Gilgamesh - 02-08-2018
The soft light of the morning sun gently cascaded from the window. It’s soft rays warmly caressing Gilgamesh’s face. His eyes fluttered awake and let out a long yawn, before getting out of his bed. His room was such a mess, his clothes thrown about and dishes left uncleaned, unacceptable. He fondly looked over at his luxury bed, pillows thrown about and sheets dangling off the edge of the bed. Gil smiled, I’ll have my servants clean this pigsty up. Oh how blessed are they to be in my service. Groggily, he walked over to his balcony, overseeing the Kingdom he has built for himself. The sun had just risen, with all of the local merchants setting up their stands for the day. The scent of freshly baked dough from outside floated through the air, kissing his nose. I’ll have to go pay a visit to the bakery, I’m sure they’ll be pleased to see their King enjoying their goods.
Gilgamesh returned inside, smiling to himself. He felt generous and wanted to praise his servants, to keep their spirits high. He was sure that his praise meant the world. He walked out of the room, his spirits high. The palace seemed much larger than he remembered, as if the ceiling had expanded. He passed by some of his servants and nodded at them, but they paid him no mind. How could my servants think they could ignore me and get away with it? Ah well, they must have much work to do. Gilgamesh hopped down the steps of his palace and headed towards the throne room. Anos, his advisor, must have a heavy day of kingly duties awaiting for him. It was weird though, Anos usually brings him his breakfast before letting him wake…
Gilgamesh turned into a large hallway, and people speaking. “Your highness, what do you wish to do about the situation in Carrefore?” Was that Anos speaking? Gilgamesh’s mood immediately worsened. How dare he address someone else as your highness. Anos knows that only Gilgamesh should be addressed as the superior! Another familiar voice spoke, “Let them be. We are clearly a more prosperous city and those who are worthy will understand.” Another person? Is Anos consulting another in MY throne room. He will pay for this! Gilgamesh barged into the open room, prepared to give Anos a piece of his mind.
As Gilgamesh entered the room he saw Anos in front of the throne with a dark figure Anos! How dare you even think of having another even influence my political decisions. I should have your head for treason, and you. Sitting in my throne is punishable by death! Is what Gilgamesh tried to say. Yet all that escaped his mouth was an angry “BARK! BARK BARK!”
The dark figure on the throne turned his look at Gilgamesh. His deep voice resonated through the room, “Oh well look who finally got up from his bed. It’s about time.” Gilgamesh was furious and advanced, but all he could manage to retaliate were nothing but “Yip! Bark Bark!” Gil paused for a moment, what the hell did he hear escape his lips. Was he...a mutt?
The voice spoke again, “Is my little buddy angry? Come here.” The shadowy figure stood up and stepped into the light. Gilgamesh paused and his stomach dropped. The figures face revealed to be no one else but the Gerudo the Gilgamesh despised. Ganondorf walked over to Gilgamesh, much larger than he normally was and picked him up. “Shhh little guy, it's okay. I’m just taking care of some business.” His hand stroked through Gilgamesh’s hair and pet him. Shudders went through his spine as this seemed to last for an eternity. Watching his rival rule over his city, forced to watch as his lap dog.
_____
Gilgamesh came to and was in a cold sweat. A searing pain stung his wrist as a fifth scar etched into his skin, crossing all the others. Jonas glanced up as he saw Gil reincarnate in the same very room he was forced in. He took in a few deep breaths before realizing where he was. It almost seemed sickening that he was relieved that he was in a literal hell rather than that dream space. The same vision becomes more and more realistic every time he died.
“It’s not going to get any easier if you keep drawing attention to yourself. I can’t imagine that death is very pleasant.” He chuckled a bit before gazing out of the cell window. The beating sun of this world was much less friendly than the one he remembered in the dunes.
“It is a price I must pay. I need to be stronger. I need the attention. Gilgamesh sighed as he began to relax in the much more uncomfortable cell. The cold stone wall contrasting with the burning heat of the sun.
Jonas turned to glare at Gil. “No. The more attention we get, the more painful your deaths become. This isn’t some place where you get power. The more you try, the more you suffer. You need the learn that this isn’t some place where you work your way up. This place is hell. Get it through your thick skull, moron.” Jonas was furious. He wouldn’t understand. Gilgamesh had noticed that these fights are becoming harder as they continue to entertain the crowd, the need more monstrosities to keep him down. The plan was working...it just was taking time.
The runt of a goblin came back into the room. “Oh I see you’ve finally blessed us with your presence. Let’s go. The crowd demands your blood again.” Gilgamesh and Jonas stood up and Jonas elbowed Gil in the stomach before getting in line.
“Don’t draw attention. You’re just making it worse for the both of us.” Jonas hissed. Gilgamesh paid him no mind and got in line silently. The way to the arena was now muscle memory. You take one right followed by two lefts and you’ll get in the elevator. The shifting gears no longer frightened him and the fear of the secondary gladiators was more amusing now. As the elevator rose and the ceiling opened up he could hear the cheering of the arena. The same old, obnoxious announcer trying to amp up the crowd.
“Demons and succubuses do I have the treat for you today. While we have the normal selection of gladiators, the crowd favorite has finally returned from his death, Goldy Boy! His tenacity is amazing folks. We...will...break him!!!” The announcer screamed. His monologue gets older and older each time he hears it. As the elevator comes to a screeching halt, he immediately looked at the wall for some sort of weapon. Mace...no. Whip...no. There’s the sword.
“Let’s see who his opponent is today folks.” The ancient cogs of the arena door let down as the door slammed into the floor, revealing two red eyes suddenly appearing from the darkness.
Quote: 7706 words
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Kuzuru - 02-09-2018
It was long before Gilgamesh made an appearance that Zanzibar had grown bored. Not a single gladiator that day had piqued even the smallest iota of interest from him. Chaff, he called them, every last one of them had been nothing more than sacks of meat waiting to be threshed. Though the worst of it was not the fact that he had wasted an entire day watching sub-par gladiators, but rather that the crowd seemed to love these pathetic displays of barbarity. As the blonde-haired combatant entered the arena Zanazibar shifted about in his seat. The demon raised a pair of jewel-encrusted binoculars up to his eyes and scanned the new arrival. Zanzibar lowered the specs. He removed an earplug from his ear and winced at the deafening roar of the crowd.
“Levem,” he shouted, addressing his servant, “that is the one you were telling me about is it not?”
Levem, who had taken the form of a black house cat with a set of green horns, stretched and yawned. It had been sleeping soundly despite the crowd’s rancorous jeering. It sat up in the chair and looked at the gladiator in question.
“Yes sir,” it said, “he appears to be a prime and quite a tenacious one at that.”
Zanzibar grunted and glassed the king again.
“Levem, please go and find out who owns him,” he said.
“Yes sir,” Levem responded, “shall I put in a purchase order for him?”
Zanzibar said nothing for a moment. He turned his binoculars towards the opposition. There was no mistaking the massive frame of Allanon. Zanzibar smiled and replaced his earplug.
“No, not yet,” he answered, “I want to see just how tenacious our golden friend is.”
“Yes sir.”
With that the shapeshifter sprouted a set of leathery wings and took flight. Zanzibar watched as his familiar zig-zagged above the crowd before disappearing behind a plume of smog. It was with a soft grin that the patron turned his gaze back to the combatants.
“Come on then,” Zanzibar muttered, “let’s see some magic.”
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Gilgamesh - 02-10-2018
The red eyes, peering out of the darkness, casually glanced over the arena floor. The beady eyes passed over Gilgamesh before quickly focusing back onto him. The figure began to step forward, his every step causing tremors to rumble throughout the coliseum’s floor. The darkness that enveloped him, steadily retreated to reveal the monstrosity that had stepped into the arena. He was a massive, hulking abomination made of pure muscle and sickly yellow flesh. His expression completely bored as he sauntered into the arena.
The announcer at the top of the arena peered down and giddily laughed in excitement. “Oh do we have a special treat for you. Facing the stubborn golden prime is the Prince of Pain himself. Allanon and his horde of hell hounds!” Gilgamesh raised his head to gaze upon the imbecile of an announcer, watching him squirm in his seat in excitement. Finally, someone of importance is here to fight me. Gilgamesh let an all too eager grin rise to his face as he stared at Allanon.
Allanon didn’t seem too pleased with the smug excitement Gilgamesh displayed so proudly. The monster rolled it's eyes and let out a disgruntled scoff. He lazily looked towards the darkness and clicked his tongue. He snapped a few times before pointing at Gil. Allanon then put his back to the wall, lazily watching the gladiators and yawning. Gilgamesh’s eye twitched in anger and he clenched his fists, What does this mongrel think he is doing. I have earned the right to fight him and now he wants me to prove myself? Gilgamesh turned to the wall where he had eyed his sword but it was gone.
The other contestants of the arena had the right idea, and Gilgamesh was late to the party. The walls were now sparse with weaponry as Gilgamesh had spent too much time sizing up the mongrel before him. He scanned the walls of the arena, looking for anything that would be of use in this fight. The walls, however, were barren much like the Dunes he had called home.
A deep, guttural growl echoed through the arena and Gil’s heart stopped for a split second. He slowly turned his head to see quite aptly described as a horde of skinless, four-legged beasts. Their maws, jutting comically large teeth, took up their entire face with no eyes anywhere on the beast. The beasts let out a demonic roar before charging into the battlefield.
Gilgamesh turned, eying one of his fellow gladiators that wielded a sword. His stance was quite poor, as if he were a thief holding a knife, and his hands shaking, forcing the blade to rock back and forth in his hands. Gil walked over to the gladiator, grabbing onto the hilt of the blade before stomping his foot into the gladiator’s chest. The weak-willed gladiator fell to the ground, eating the dirt, weaponless. With his newly obtained sword, Gilgamesh didn’t waste a second before quickly slashing at the defenseless man’s throat.
“Be honored that you died for my safety. I’ll make much better use of this blade than you would have.” Gil could hardly spit out the retort before the beasts were upon him. I need to learn when to stop talking, he thought as one of the fleshy horrors had pounced upon Gilgamesh. The force had knocked him onto the ground kicking up dust and knocking the air out of him. The rusty sword clanged out of his hand and ended up feet away from him. Fear crawled up his throat and he made the foolish decision to reach for his weapon. The hellhound wasted no time and snapped at his throat. Gil rushed to protect his neck by placing his other arm in front of the rabid beast, having his arm become the hellhound’s chew toy. His arm was fully extending, the hilt of the blade was at the tip of his fingertips. His vision began to fade into black as he could feel his bone crack in between the monster’s jaw. Not like this. Destroyed by a mutt while my real opponent is watching. The hound on top of him whimpered and his ferocious jaw let go of Gil arm before slumping off of him. A hand was offered to him, helping him up and handing him back the sword he had stolen.
“I can’t believe it’s come to this, but be grateful I saved your ass. Princess.” Jonas smiled a bit, proudly boasting of his accomplishment. His cheerfulness didn’t last long as his mood quickly reflected mood of battle. The child was a lot more threatening than previously thought.
“Do you expect me to be grateful?” Gilgamesh slyly retorted. Their backs were now pressed together, watching each other’s blind spot. Gil looked at his left arm, and could see his bleeding arm with white bone to contrast the deep red. Another hellhound pounced, attempting to knock Gilgamesh over again, but Gil rose his sword to meet the horror’s flesh. It dangled off his sword for a bit before slowly slumping off onto the ground. He followed with a quick stab in it’s head. Onslaughts of the hellhounds came, each managing to bite shallowly into Gilgamesh’s flesh before being quickly slaughtered.
“No! No! Please have mercy!” Gilgamesh had heard another gladiator yell. His head turned for a split second to see that a gladiator had tried to fight Allanon but now was in the enormous monster’s hands above his head. The man’s cries turned into horrific screams of pain as Allanon decided to exert a little effort and ripped the man in half over his head and tossed his lifeless body to the ground. The monster’s brute strength repulsed him, relying on such barbarity to end his opponents. Gil will be glad when he ends Allanon’s life.
The hellhounds were ripping flesh of the dead gladiators and messily gorging themselves on the flesh. Gil walked over to one of the feasting hellhounds, happily chewing on a dead gladiator’s bone. “Gil. What are you doing? We need to lay low!” Jonas hissed. The horror hissed at Gilgamesh, raising from its comfortable position looking to pounce. Gilgamesh hacked into the hellhounds skull, nearly cleaving it into two. Other’s quickly noticed the aggressive meat that hasn’t been culled and began to encircle Gil. Out of the corner of his eye, Jonas slowly backed away into the shadows.
A hellhound from behind bit a chunk out of Gilgamesh’s calve. As he felt the piece of flesh be ripped out of his body he bright his sword down into the beast's body. Another had pounced, but Gilgamesh caught its body mid-air and tossed it at another hellhound. He dug the blade out of the hellhound and walked over to the two that were dazed by the fall and swiftly cut them down. A sharp pain erupted into his shoulder. Gilgamesh pulled off the new horror and and threw it onto the ground, before stomping its skull. He turned his head around to see any new threat but saw nothing but the carnage that the battlefield had become.
Exhausted, Gilgamesh fell to a knee, bleeding heavily out of nearly limb. Jonas slid out of the shadows to greet Gil. “I can’t believe you did it you bastard,” was the only thing that could escape his mouth. Blood tricked out of his mouth and he surprisingly looked down to see a sword in his chest cavity. A confused expression crossed his face before he slumped off Gil’s blade and onto the ground. Gil bent over and ripped off the shirt of off Jonas and bandaged his heavily bleeding arm and leg before turning to the demonic Allanon.
“Now that your bastardized pets have wounded me, I would now say that this is a fair fight.”
Quote:9017 words
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Sasuke Uchiha - 02-12-2018
Gilgamesh awoke to an all familiar cell, in an all familiar dungeon, only this time, there was no Jonas. Wait, how did he die? What happened? A pain on his wrist began to sizzle and sear. He cringed as a new line appeared, marking a new death. But how? The king closed his eyes and concentrated on remembering.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Gilgamesh proved to be entertaining. Bloodied and battered, he refused to be obscure on the battlefield, vowing to submit his legacy here and now, in demon canine blood. The loud roar of the crowd grew with every one of hell’s hounds slain, until suddenly, it became the hushed chorus of a whisper. Twisted wonder befell the audience as malevolent treachery became the undoing of an aspiring, but gullible ally, Jonas. In exchange, Gilgamesh gained notoriety and a small following. Enamored by the gilded king’s unabashed betrayal, many fanatics began to cheer his name. Not to mention the fact that everyone also loves an underdog story…
SMASH
Once the words, “…this is a fair fight.” left the king’s mouth, Allanon’s war-hammer took their place, clobbering Gilgamesh, and launching him airborne several yards. Three remaining gladiators reluctantly broke his fall, knocking them all to the dirt. Disoriented, the king’s senses eluded him as he struggled to stand, and once he managed, Allanon had already closed the distance.
Chiming in over loud speaker, the announcer’s voice boomed, “Hot Damn! The action doesn’t get any better than this folks. I tell you this, I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of Allanon’s wraith!”
“You INSOLENT CUR!” Gilgamesh screeched whilst using a nearby gladiator as a shield, shoving him in between him and the brute. Without missing a beat, Allanon repositioned his hammer, swooped the foreign combatant into his two giant hands, and tore the man asunder with brute strength. A cascade of blood, flesh, and organs blotted the king’s vision, while Allanon roared a thunderous war cry. The crowd went into a frenzy, and Gilgamesh stumbled backwards onto his ass.
“Wow!” the broadcaster’s voice beamed in a perverse admiration, “Absolutely amazing folks! You won’t see anything like this anywhere else!”
Relentless, Allanon was upon the gilded king with vicious intent. The confident looks of superiority had all but vanished from Gilgamesh, as the golden warrior was forced on the defensive. Blow after blow, he resisted Allanon and his hammer, but each thunderous exchange left the king with less wear and tear. All the king’s guile and clever sword play was for naught against such a tenacious might. Collisions with Allanon left tremors in his wake and blocking did little to dull the pain. The savage was too fast, too powerful. One false step would be the king’s last and he couldn’t allow things to continue in this fashion. Ravenous and fickle, the crowd grew bloodthirsty as cries of “kill him” and “finish him” became more prominent; the king’s visage, noticeably flushed.
“You hear that Allanon?!” the announcer antagonized over loud speaker, “Give the people what they want!”
Knowing escape was futile, Gilgamesh rolled onto his back and used the brute’s own momentum against him. Inept and void of grace, the brute fought with wild indignation and little tact, nothing like that of King Gilgamesh. He never saw it coming. A blood piercing howl rattled the arena as Gilgamesh brought the hilt of his blade to his chest, and plunged it into the advancing abdomen of Allanon. The crowd went silent with anticipation and not a soul stirred, as blood and glee decorated the king’s face alike; Allanon’s blood.
“Holy F*cking Diablo!” exclaimed the broadcaster’s voice, breaking the silence, “Allanon is down! I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes folks!”
An eruption of mixed feelings consumed the audience as their revered champion fell for the first time, followed quickly and unanimously by their call for his execution. How quickly they turned. The resounding, “Finish him” chant grew popular, exposing what a loveless and wicked place the underverse truly was.
The few gladiators who had managed to keep their lives so far stood in awe of Gilgamesh. No one had ever so much as landed a scratch on Allanon, let alone thwart the bastard. His defeat would be monumental for the lost King of the Dunes.
Face to face with the monster, Gilgamesh sighed in relief and took the opportunity to savor his upset over the giant, though it would be short lived. Allanon’s once motionless frame stirred, then suddenly his hands fashioned themselves around both Gilgamesh and the sword. Startled, the king’s eyes widened and the visage staring back at him revealed a devilish delight. Saliva dripped from fang-like teeth as the beast used his grasp on the sword to pull both it and Gilgamesh in closer, further impaling himself but also advancing his intensions.
“What are you--get off me” resisted the king, but it was too late. “Arrggghhhhhhhhh!!!” his cries and shrieks rang throughout the coliseum. Allanon had sank both thumbs into his opponent’s eyes until they were submerged in blood; two fairly distinct pops sounded shortly thereafter. Satisfied with the gruesome deed, Allanon’s gigantic frame slumped off the king, rolled onto his own back, and retrieved the impaled sword from his abdomen. Blood spewed henceforth from the wound, but not that of a dire amount. On top of everything, the brute seemed to possess great vitality as well.
“That hurt,” Allanon spoke as he stood, tossed the bloodied blade aside, and revered it for the damage it inflicted, “a little.” The Goliath smirked while observing the carnage he’d wrought. His victim had been so exuberant, so defiant, and yet, here he lay, broken and dispatched, like all of the rest of them before him.
“You…” the distraught king mouthed as he struggled to understand his newfound disability. He raised to his knees, revealing his face, and eliciting charged reactions from the crowd. The king’s blonde hair, now drenched in blood, tangled and matted, framed the exposed holes of flesh where his eyes should have been.
“You F*CKING MONGREL!!!” Gilgamesh shrieked, staggering and stumbling with his hands outstretched for guidance. He was blind. The king reeled, swinging wildly at nothing, “I’LL F*CKING KILL YOU!!!”
“You don’t even know where you are.” Allanon scoffed before raising his boot and plating it into the king’s chest. Vertigo came easy for the golden cripple as he landed on his ass once more. Allanon crouched, stalking his prey, “You don’t know who’re your f*cking with and I need little introduction, but let me educate you.”
“ME?!” Gilgamesh began, “It’s you who doesn’t know who they’re fucking with. YOU’RE BENEATH ME MON--” Before the gilded king could finish, Allanon had slammed his fist into Gilgamesh’s own abdomen, causing the king to buckle over in agony, and desperately gasp for air.
“Shut the f*ck up.” the brute demanded, “I am the mighty Allanon. I am your reckoning. All of the nightmares you’ve heard about me are true.” He then grasped a thick cluster of Gilgamesh’s hair, yanked his head back, and cooed, “…and no, you won’t be surviving here today.”
Allanon dropped his mighty Warhammer and unsheathed a sinister looking machete, “Thirty percent, that’s all the power I’ve been using today.” As he spoke, memories of a man being pulled apart, showering Allanon with blood and organs, as well as an impromptu eye surgery he performed on the king, were still fresh in his mind. “The next time you show your face around here, I’ll show you what fifty percent of my power feels like.” He announced as took position behind Gilgamesh and readied his blade, “Not because you’re special, but because I like to destroy pretty things.”
“You’ll show me all of it, mongrel,” Gilgamesh spat blood at the feet of his executioner, “because I am your king.”
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Gilgamesh - 02-12-2018
Gilgamesh bashed his boot against the wooden bench of the cell, breaking the flimsy wooden piece. The rest of the gladiators huddles in the corner far away from Gilgamesh, wary of his sudden and unexplained betrayal. Gilgamesh grabbed one of the wooden planks and smashed it against the bars letting out a primal roar. The Goblin Guard looked up lazily from his seat, already used to how the prime dealt with his unpleasant deaths. “Come on Goldy, we just had that bed replaced. You’re making this place hell for me now.” The goblin defeatedly remarked. His words fell upon deaf ears as the gilded king continued on his temper tantrum, slinging broken pieces of wood and stones as frequently as he threw curses.
The goblin sighed with an irritated tone and walked up to the bars. “Hey, if it makes you feel better no one has made Allanon bleed in a long time. The brute may be strong but you have some real skill.” Gilgamesh stopped his rampage in his tracks, holding a scrawny gladiator over his head. Dropping the gladiator onto the floor he dropped down in thought.
“See, doesn’t that make you feel better? Now ple-” Gilgamesh cut off the goblin in the middle of his sentence. “Silence guard.” Gilgamesh put his face in his palms before smacking the post-death grogginess out of his head. Of course. There’s no way I can compete with that brute’s physical capabilities. But he is just that. A brute. Gil slided over to the corner and rested his head against the cool wall before looking up at the goblin.
“Thanks,” was the only word that escaped his lips before he closed his eyes. The goblin was taken aback, looking like the King had just struck him. The earnest gratitude was a complete one-eighty from the King’s established priority. The goblin muttered to himself before going back to sit upon his chair, “These fucking deaths must have had some change in you.”
The goblin didn’t know the half of it. Each death, leading to a horrifying nightmare. Every consecutive one, longer and more painful than the last. Gilgamesh wasn’t afraid of death when he was back alive, but now. His thoughts drifted away as he tried to calm himself. Enraging himself wasn’t going to do any favors and now that he exerted his only “friend”, he no longer has the trust of ANY gladiator.
The goblin put his hand up to an ear and mumbling buzzed into his ear. He nodded flatly while mumbling some quick one liners, “Yes...Uh huh...Of course, right away.” His hand dropped from his ear and he lazily stood from his seat waving at Gilgamesh.
“Man, ever since you’ve come the arena has been busy. This job used to be so easy.” The Goblin sighed, seeming to reminisce of easier times. “Come on you.” All the gladiators in the room began to get up before the Goblin waved them down. “Just Goldy this time.” The rest of the room sighed a breath of relief while Gil continued to the door. He led the way, with the Goblin treading slowly behind him until the came into the elevator to the Arena. Gilgamesh remained quite up until this point, and the Goblin had a look of uneasiness to him. As the cogs began to whirr and the elevator began to rise, the Goblin spoke. “Hey Goldy, try not to get yourself killed.” His face flustered before quickly continuing onto the next sentence, “You’re a real bitch to clean up after you have your little tantrum.” Gilgamesh smiled and nodded before looking up towards the entrance of the arena. Every time he came back, he was thrown into another fight. He’s been meaning to ask how long he stays dead. Hopefully he won’t have to.
The bright light of this place’s infernal sun shined like a beamlight and the familiar cheering of the crowd seemed almost deafening. As Gilgamesh reached the arena’s pit, he noticed that the stadium was completely filled. A few of them had homemade signs that showed a crude likeness to Gil, and had “Get’em Goldy” written in hopefully red paint.
“The Evil Horde of Diablo, do I have the fight for you today. The Golden Prime is back from the dead!” The announcers annoying voice echoes through the arena as usual. Gilgamesh turned his head towards the top of the coliseum to look at the annoying mongrel, to see a familiar face sitting next to him. “Allanon,” the Gilded King growled. He walked over to the wall to grab a rusty sword before returning to the middle of the battlefield.
“His opponent today is someone more of his caliber. Welcome his challenger, The Demon of Slaughter!” Gil’s attention was brought to the other side of the arena, where this ‘Demon’ would be. The monster’s skill was a crimson red, his face only having four eyes and no mouth. His ears curved like a scythe, and his weaponry reflected that. The creatures scythe burned with a bright red flame, promising to sear Gilgamesh’s kingly flesh.
Without hesitation the beast was off. His incredible speed brought him in front of Gilgamesh, swinging his flaming scythe at Gil’s head. Gilgamesh brought his sword up, blocking the scythe from decapitating him, but the flame singed the hairs of his neck. Gilgamesh knocked the scythe away to make an attack but the creature was too quick. As soon as the scythe was parried, the creature made another swing. Each time the creature swinged, Gilgamesh had only enough time to barely block the blade. Taking steps back, hoping to gain some sort of time or advantage, he eventually was pressed against the wall. The demon made an overhead swing and Gil rolled underneath the creature, with just enough time to make a piercing wound in the creatures’ back.
The demon didn’t respond with any pain, but instead pulled his scythe from its place within the wall and made another attack. The eyes of the demon narrowed, its attacks more intense than before. The swings of his scythe became more powerful and swung with greater frequency. Gilgamesh tired from just blocking alone and his skin began to become red with minor burns. The creature feigned a swing and Gil was too tired to catch onto it. The demon’s scythe then buried itself into Gilgamesh’s forearm, singing and cauterizing the flesh as it pierced him. Gil kicked the creature off of him and retreated quickly.
I can’t win in swordplay against this creature. I need to be able to use my treasures. As the creature swung itself up off the ground Gil tried to open his Gate of Babylon. Sparks of gold flew into existence for a mere moment before fading into nothingness. A flutter of hope flew into his heart before a massive migraine pounded into his head. The demon wasted no time and flew itself onto Gil. Gilgamesh managed to deflect the blade from cutting off his shoulder into piercing his thigh. The smell of his own burning flesh was nauseating and the pain was enough to make his vision blurred. While the scythe was still embedded in his leg, he beat the demon with the hilt of his sword. It fell on its ass as Gilgamesh ripped the scythe out of his leg and tossed it aside. The flames not dying down for a second, his hands burning as he removed it from his injured leg.
Gilgamesh attempted to open his Gates of Babylon once more, allowing the flickering of gold to stay in existence for a second before whimpering out. A sharp pain stung in Gil’s stomach as he felt as if he had attempted to lift more than he could handle. The unarmed demon was already upon him, pouncing upon the Gilded King. The King’s hand barely holding the creature’s iron claws from shredding his face.
_____
Allanon looked unamused. The Demon of Slaughter was the clear victor, he has been in this position before. Allanon did not care to see the Golden Primes slaughter, it did not interest him. Just because the prime had tenacity doesn’t mean he had what it took to be of interest. Allanon, bored out of his mind, got up from his seat and began to exit the arena.
Seconds after his back was turned the announcer stumbled out of his seat, practically screaming, “Oh my god! Goldy turned this fight around with some tricks up his sleeve. This is amazing folks, I’ve never seen anything like it. Holy Shit!”
Allanon raised an eyebrow, had the Prime done something of excitement or had the announcer overhyped the battle as he always does? He turned around to observe how his opponent had turned the tides-
Allanon turned around to see a spear flying towards his stomach. As it was about to impact, Allanon grabbed the spear by the shaft, sliding along the concrete floor carried by its momentum. The tip just pressing against the soft flesh of his belly before he dropped it to the ground. He walked over to the edge of the podium to see the King smiling smugly in the arena below.
_____
Gil had managed to keep his Gate open long enough to send a spear flying through. He turned to look over at his recent kill, three of his treasures embedded in the monster’s back. Gil stopped, doubling over in pain before vomiting black blood on the arena floor. The announcer, however, stopped commenting upon Gilgamesh’s every move. I guess he made quite the impression. Gilgamesh wobbled onto his feet, wiping a trail of blood from his mouth. Speaking with vindication even though his true opponent couldn’t hear him.
“That wasn’t even my fifty percent.”
Quote: 10654 words
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Sasuke Uchiha - 02-14-2018
“Come on, let’s go.”
Day in and day out gladiators were shuffled from cell to cell, battlefield to infirmary like cattle. The Goblins who managed them even came equipped with their very own cattle prod, so no one resisted when the order came. Raising to their feet, all the gladiators in the dungeon began to head for the exit, however, the Goblin waved them off, “Just Goldie this time.”
Relief colored the room as most were grateful for the opportunity to rest, but that didn’t stop their hushed whispers as the gilded king passed them, making his way to the arena stage.
“Did you hear?” a younger gladiator, who still seemed to possess wonder and an eagerness for glory, found himself unable to resist the urge to gossip, “That new prime went up against Allanon! I heard he straight called him out. The balls on that guy, huh?”
“The stuck up Goldilocks?” an unholy abomination of a gladiator asked. His flesh, wrought with decay, desperately hung to his bones and gave off a putrid odor as he spoke, “Primes... bunch of narcissists who think their Omni's gift to the world. Diablo Damn them all. They always think they can go up against Big Al and they all change their tune after he gets ‘hold of ‘em.”
“Yea, but this one was different,” the youth exclaimed, “They say it was really close. They are saying he almost killed Allanon!”
“Hogwash,” The undead warrior spat, “Prime, Secondary, it makes no difference, they all die against Big Al.”
“Yea, but…” the youth seemed to lose some of the gleam in his eye as he pondered, “I don’t know…”
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Kuzuru - 02-14-2018
There was never a more sincere smile than the one plastered across Zanzibar’s face. For the first time in a long time the man found himself clapping and cheering along with the crowd. Levem, who had taken the form of a crow, watched from its perch on the shoulder of Zanzibar’s seat. The Golden Gladiator was ushered from the field, visibly limping. Once the crowd’s frenzy was quenched Zanzibar removed an earplug and turned to his companion.
“Levem, please contact Murmur,” Zanzibar said, “I wish to make an acquisition.”
“Yes sir,” Levem responded, “how much are you willing to spend.”
“However much it takes,” Zanzibar replied, “I must have him.”
“Yes sir.”
--
Gilgamesh had spent the better part of two hours recovering from his wounds. Were it not for his prime physiology and his raw tenacity the internal bleeding would have probably done him in, but as it stood the deposed king simply languished in his cell. As the warden sauntered into view the prime straightened himself and tried to hide the pain that wracked his body. The goblin fiddled with his ring of keys and slid one into the cell’s lock. He turned the key and pulled the rusty gate open.
“Come on then,” he said, motioning towards Gilgamesh, “you’ve been bought.”
“What?” Gilgamesh asked.
The goblin sighed, “you’ve got a new owner Goldy, apparently your performance has impressed someone, only Diablo knows why someone would want to put up with your temper though, now come on.”
Under threat of the electric prod Gilgamesh was fitted with a pair of manacles and led to a wing of the prison that he had yet to see. He was taken to a room at the end of a long hallway.
“Here we are, I’d say it was fun, but you were a real pain in the ass” the goblin said, opening the door and ushering him inside.
Inside the room sat two people sharing a laugh and drinks. They sat in elegant red chairs with a table between them. A large sack of what appeared to be coins sat in the center of the table, surrounded by two glasses of what appeared to be wine. Gilgamesh recognized the smaller of the two as Murmur, his original captor, while the other man he had never seen before. The two stopped laughing and turned to face the new arrival. Murmur smirked and sipped on his drink while the stranger smiled and stood to greet Gilgamesh.
“Oh, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” the stranger said, “my name is Zanzibar, and I have to say I am quite impressed at your recent performance.”
The man that stood before the king must have been at least seven feet tall. Broad shoulders carried his muscular body. His outfit consisted of a deep neck satin shirt and trousers. Golden thread was laced throughout the pieces giving them a dull shimmer. What was most striking about Zanzibar was not his stature nor his finery, but rather his skin. His flesh was stained a deep purple and craggy multicolored gemstones peaked out from beneath his skin. His ears were pointed and rather than hair his head grew a series of blue-tinged crystalline spikes and even his goatee was nothing more than a jagged jewel. Gilgamesh’s brow furrowed as he studied the creature put before him.
“You have done well to recognize my greatness,” the king finally conceded.
Zanzibar motioned for the goblin and said, “please remove his restraints, they are not fitting of such a powerful warrior.”
The goblin squirmed a bit and said, “uh, well, I wouldn’t recommend that, he can be a bit unruly at times.”
Zanzibar glanced at Gilgamesh and said, “you will remove them, he is my responsibility now and it is not your place to decide whether or not he will be restrained, so remove them”
The goblin looked towards Murmur for guidance, who only shrugged. With an audible gulp the goblin removed the restraints and shuffled several feet away. Gilgamesh rubbed his wrists and shot a withering gaze towards his tormentor. Zanzibar smiled and turned towards Murmur.
“Please give us a moment alone,” the gem-covered devil requested, “I’ll be on my way shortly thereafter.”
Murmur finished his drink and said, “very well.”
Murmur stood up, grabbed the sack of coins, and walked to the door.
“Please don’t take forever,” he said as he stepped through the door, “I’ve got other clients to speak with today.”
Once they were alone Zanzibar returned to his seat and continued sipping his wine.
“So I heard you’re royalty,” he noted.
Gilgamesh’s face soured in disgust, “royalty? I am more than just royalty, I am the king of kings, I am Gilgamesh.”
Zanzibar raised his hands in surrender, “forgive me, I didn’t intend to insult you, I was merely going off hearsay.”
Gilgamesh did not speak, but his tempestuous expression did soften.
“As you are no doubt aware by now, I am to be your new owner,” Zanzibar began, “however that does not mean that this cannot be a symbiotic relationship, King of all kings.”
“I am owned by no one.”
“Yes, well, down here things are a bit different, you’ll have to get used to it, but I think you’ll find me to be much more agreeable than Murmur,” Zanzibar said.
“So am I to be passed around like some lowly servant?” Gilgamesh asked, his rage at a boiling point.
“You want freedom yes?” Zanzibar deflected, “you want to return to your old life?”
Gilgamesh did not answer, but stayed his rage.
“Diablo, the Lord of Terror, rules this verse with an iron fist, those that can curry his favor live a lavish life,” Zanzibar explained, “the easiest way to do that is to provide a warrior fit for his army, that is the true purpose of these gladiatorial arenas, to suss out those strong enough to be a warrior for him.”
“And that is why you purchased me?” the word “purchased” left a sour taste in the king’s mouth.
“Yes, to put it simply, I see a potential in you that could give me a life of luxury,” he said, “but as I said I don’t expect you to scratch my back if I don’t scratch yours, you will be allowed to come and go as you please, to do as you will, and I will do my best to provide you with whatever you desire, however you must fight and win for me.”
“You’re just putting me in a bigger cage,” Gilgamesh said, “I have no interest in serving a snake such as yourself.”
Zanzibar sighed, “no, Lord Gilgamesh, you misunderstand, Diablo is the gatekeeper, he decides who goes topside and who is trapped here forever, if you impress him, I am not the only one to benefit, you will be transported back to the Omniverse proper and you will be stronger for the effort, so King of kings, Lord of lords, Gilgamesh”
He poured a drink into an empty cup and offered it to the prime.
“Do you accept my offer? Or would you rather wither away into obscurity?”
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Gilgamesh - 02-15-2018
Gilgamesh eyed the demon warily, escaping this place seemed too good to be true even though that was exactly what he hoping to find. It had been some time since he was treated with the proper respect of a King and Zanzibar knew exactly what to say to placate him. Gilgamesh could grow to like him, with time.
Gilgamesh extended his hand to accept the glass of wine before speaking with a smug grin on his face, “I accept.” The two clinked cups before Gilgamesh began to sip from the wine. “While this may be acceptable wine, this is nothing compared to that stored in my treasury.” Gil made a sour face as he continued to sip from the wine, his taste buds being assaulted by the swill that commoners drink.
“Why of course my liege. I assure you that we will find much better wine for thee.” Zanzibar continued to try and appease his new acquisition.
“That is not necessary, I have plenty in my own collection.” Gilgamesh pondered for a second before continuing, “Speaking of. I have been having a hard time getting it up. My Gates of Babylon that is. If you want access to my power, you’ll need to find a way to let me access it.”
“Oh I see. That fortunately is a common problem for some primes as yourself. There is a solution, but your majesty will not be pleased.” Zanzibar gave him a sheepish smile. He finished off his glass of wine before standing from his seat, “Shall we head to the market then?”
_______
“I will not be collared as if I were a dog! You will not play some sick joke on me.” Gilgamesh screamed at the shopkeep, the poor man’s collar in the King’s fist.
Zanzibar put a hand on Gil’s shoulder speaking in a calm voice, attempting to soothe the ireful King, “Lord Gilgamesh I assure you, this is not a joke. As I said you would not like the solution, however this is the only way.” His silky voice washed over Gilgamesh’s anger, yet the King still was upset.
“I refuse. I will not be humiliated like this.” The King dropped the shopkeeper’s shirt before crossing his arms and lifting his head, in an attempt to feel superior.
Without pause, Zanzibar knew exactly what to say.He walked behind the King, rubbing Gil’s shoulders while giving a sly grin, “Well I suppose then King of Heroes that you will just have to stay in the Underverse forever.” Zanzibar gave Gil a pat on the back as he enunciated ‘forever’.
Gilgamesh rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, obviously aware that he was going to have to make some small sacrifices. He let out a deep sigh before slumping over in resignation. His voice had a tone of defeat and sadness as he spoke, “Let’s get this over with.”
“I appreciate this my lord.” Zanzibar looked up towards the shopkeep and snapped his fingers, “Shopkeep. My liege will take a Golden Prime…..Circlet.”
The shopkeep raised an eyebrow in confusion, “ You mean a Prime Collar, we don’t carry those in gold.” Zanzibar sighed in frustration. He was hoping to avoid the word collar, Gilgamesh was a little too sensitive about this matter and the shopkeep was making it worse.
“We’ll find one in gold and I’ll pay you extra.” Zanzibar turned his attention towards Gil, “I apologize for the inconvenience my liege, for the shopkeeper’s blunderances we shall purchase some luxury items for yourself.”
“I hope you are not making the mistake of insinuating that I am a spoiled child,” Gilgamesh spat back with venom revealing that a spoiled child was exactly what he was.
Behind the counter Zanzibar saw the shopkeeper bring up a iron collar along with a bucket of gold paint. Zanzibar quickly tried to divert the attention of Gilgamesh, “I would never dare insult you my King. I am merely trying to make your stay here more comfortable. Now what would you like my liege.” He glared over to the shopkeep who was taking his time painting the collar.
“I require nothing, however I have not had actual food in quite some time.” Gilgamesh was still acting haughty, with his head held up high.
“Why of course my lord.” Zanzibar nodded his head to urge the shopkeep to hurry up. The man ran up with the collar and a brush, cleaning Gil’s neck. “Now this may pinch a bit,” Zanzibar warned Gil as the collar was being put on. The “golden” clasps were brought around his neck before it slammed shut. Gilgamesh reached towards his neck, the collar slightly choking him before settling in a semi-comfortable position.
Gilgamesh reached out his hand, trying once again to summon his Gates of Babylon, however this time there was success. Gilgamesh brought out an ornate sword and examined his treasure carefully. He quickly turned around and pointed the sword at the shopkeeper’s throat, both surprising him and Zanzibar.
“If you think I am that dumb to not notice you using paint on this collar, you should be put to the death.” Gilgamesh’s brow furrowed at the man before him. The tip of the sword poking into his throat, causing a trickle of blood to flow down.
The shopkeep’s voice trembled and his hands were up in a disarming manner. “Please have mercy….your...highness.” The words were forced out of him, as if it were painful to say.
Gilgamesh retracted his sword allowing a breath of relief to escape., “Very well, however as you do not know your place I will have your tongue.” The man’s face quickly became of fear once again as Gilgamesh pulled the tongue from his mouth and sliced it off with his sword. Gil dropped the wet, bloody tongue onto the floor before wiping the mixture of saliva and blood onto the merchant’s shirt. The shopkeep dropped to the floor grabbing onto his detached tongue.
“Pay the man Zanzibar. Let’s go I am hungry.” Gilgamesh turned his back towards the screaming, mumbling merchant. The man raised his head towards Gilgamesh’s master, looking for some sort of rebuttal, but was rewarded instead with a few gold pieces. Zanzibar followed the King of Heroes out of the door.
Gilgamesh wait impatiently outside the store, tapping his foot and adjusting his collar, awaiting for his master’s arrival. As Zanzibar exited the store, Gilgamesh breathed a sigh of irritation, “Liars like that get on my nerves.”
Zanzibar smiled earnestly before speaking calmly, “Let’s go my King, I know just the place to eat.” Gilgamesh nodded and let Zanzibar lead the way.
________
The two didn’t travel through the marketplace very far, eventually arriving a small hole in the wall. Although only a small sign labeled “Diablo’s List” and a small menu of items outside the small door. The two walked into the small restaurant to find it nearly deserted, a small woman with two goat like horns walked up to them with two menus.
Her sweet little voice spoke up, “Table for two? Follow me.” Zanzibar followed the woman while urging Gil to follow him. The two were brought to a booth that was more comfortable than Gil would have liked to admit.
“Isn’t this place supposed to be hell? Why is there a quaint place like this doing here” Gil raised an eyebrow, confused by the contradiction. He was looking at the menu, seeing normal meals such as Roast Beef and wondering how it has been tainted.
Zanzibar waved his hand at Gilgamesh, “Primes here look for big flashy places and those have the torture and all that fun nonsense. These little places are where actual food is served.” Zanzibar waved the waitress over, “Can we look at your wine menu?” Gilgamesh then scoffed at his master. Waving his hand, opening the gates of Babylon, he brought out a pitcher of his own wine.
“Excuse me sir, outside food isn’t allowed,” the demonic waitress commented with a hint of sass in her voice. Before Gilgamesh could comment, Zanzibar had already spoken for him.
“This King has just cut the tongue off a disrespectful man. He can do what he wants.” The waitress eyes widened before letting Gilgamesh pour his wine into his own glass. Gilgamesh looked up at his master before pouring him a glass as well.
“I suppose you should have a taste of real wine,” Gilgamesh dismissively commented. His eyes averted the gaze of his owner, while twiddling his thumbs on his glass he took a slip. An uneasy silence fell between the two before Gilgamesh spoke up. “As for my first battle I don’t suppose you could set me up with the gladiator who first murder me, could you?”
Gilgamesh swirled the wine on his cup before taking a sip, his eyebrows raised as the premium wine touched his tongue. “I suppose I could arrange that if you wished it.”
Gilgamesh smiled before speaking casually, “If you keep this up I might grow fond of you. Tell me about yourself.”
Quote:12196 words written
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Kuzuru - 02-18-2018
Zanzibar raised his eyebrows in surprise. For the past hour or so he had been mentally preparing himself to be a kiss-ass, and the king’s sudden interest in his own life was a pleasant change of pace. The demon exhaled deeply, trying to figure out where to start. He absentmindedly sipped at his wine, allowing the wonderful nectar to dance with his taste buds. He made a mental note to try and figure out just what kind of wine it was that Gilgamesh gave him. After a few moments of mental deliberation the jewel-encrusted demon leaned forward.
“Well,” he began, “there isn’t much to tell, I was summoned here in the Underverse not too long ago, I’m not sure who summoned me, but whoever did has never shown any interest in me, at any rate I suppose I did what most of us do down here.”
“Which would be?”
“Fight,” Zanzibar answered, “I joined the gladiator pits and fought for my life because that was all I could do to make a living.”
“Mhhm,” the king nodded, apparently beginning to regret his question.
“Ended up being pretty good at it to,” he said as he tapped a jewel embedded into his chest, “being covered in these things does wonders for your protection, but then again I suppose they didn’t do too much against Allanon.”
Upon the mentioning of his nemesis Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow and refocused his attention.
“Sure, I was big and strong, but Allanon is on a whole other playing field when it comes to brute force,” Zanzibar said, taking a sip of wine before continuing, “it was nothing more than pure luck that he didn’t end up killing me, he hurt me pretty bad though, bad enough that I couldn’t compete anymore.”
“So you took to buying and selling slaves,” Gilgamesh stated, adding in a few dashes of snark.
Zanzibar raised a finger and said, “ah, but not just any slaves my king, I’m only interested in the exceptional, anything less would be a waste of my time.”
“I see,” Gilgamesh answered, “so you’ve fought Allanon?”
Zanzibar lifted up the side of his shirt and revealed a wicked scar running along his torso. Small blue crystals jutted out from the center of the scar, tracing a line from the small of his back to the bottom of his ribs.
“He blindsided me with an axe,” Zanzibar said, lowering his gold-laced shirt, “if it weren’t for the crystals in my body absorbing the blow I would’ve been cleaved in two, his strength is more than impressive.”
Gilg’s eyes narrowed and he spat, “he is nothing more than an insect waiting to be ground underfoot.”
“Yes well, regardless of your opinion you will not beat him through brute force alone,” Zanzibar noted, “and even if you could, he picks his own battles he only takes duels against people that interest him.”
“Oh he’ll be plenty interested when I take everything from him,” Gilgamesh responded.
For a while the two continued talking after they put in their order. Their food arrived and Gilgamesh listened while Zanzibar explained the intricacies of the Underverse and its coliseums. They ate their meal and, for the most part, enjoyed it. Once their bellies were full and they had exhausted all desirable avenues of conversation Zanzibar asked for their check. He paid the waitress and left a sizeable tip for tolerating the king’s regal disposition.
“Come,” Zanzibar motioned towards the king, “it has been a long day, let us retire for the evening, hopefully you’ll find the accomodations suitable.”
Gilgamesh nodded and, with a slight hint of venom, said “yes, hopefully they are.”
--
Perched at the precipice of a cliff Zanzibar’s villa was just a stone’s throw from civilization. A carriage, drawn by a pair of charcoal colored horses, transported them along a sloping dirt road and to their destination. The villa itself was a sprawling structure, taking up every last bit of available real estate. Once they arrived the patron took it upon himself to give Gilgamesh the grand tour. Beyond the basic amenities there were several additions that Zanzibar seemed particularly proud of, the first of which being a quaint indoor bath house. The demon noted that while heating the water was incredibly easy in the Underverse the hard part was actually acquiring it in the first place. As they continued the tour Gilgamesh took note of several impish creatures which were in the process of completing several household chores.
“What are those creatures?” the king inquired.
“They are homunculi, artificial lifeforms created for servitude, I use them to take care of the place while I am away,” he answered, “feel free to command them as you see fit, but be aware they are simple creatures and might not be able to complete any complex tasks, now if you’ll come this way…”
Their tour ended at the heart of the villa. A rectangular courtyard dressed up as a mock gladiatorial arena stretched from one end of the villa to the other. Wooden practice dummies lined the edge of the courtyard along with several archery targets. An assortment of basic weaponry hung from one wall, as well as several more exotic weapons. A rudimentary obstacle course took up one corner of the courtyard while several weightlifting machines and equipment took up another. Footprints and weapon marks marred the soft red clay underfoot as they walked from one end to the other.
“Levem!” Zanzibar shouted, “Levem, come here!”
There was a moment of stillness as Zanzibar’s booming voice echoed throughout the villa. GIlgamesh began to open his mouth, but stopped as a multi-colored serpent spilled down from the archways above. It slithered across the cracked red earth and coiled itself before the demon’s feet. It shivered and condensed into a pool of what appeared to be some sort of viscous black gel. For a few moments the gel twisted and contorted itself into a vaguely humanoid shape. Eventually the creature stretched upwards, growing to a height of around five feet. Natural colors flooded its body and finer details began to emerge. From this primordial ooze came a woman, with long bounding locks of brown hair and a set of ruby red eyes. She smiled and bowed.
“Yes sir? What do you require this evening?” Levem spoke.
“Please show our king to his quarters,” Zanzibar said, “he has had a long day, so please make sure he is accommodated well, obey him as you would obey me.”
“Yes sir.”
Zanzibar turned towards Gilgamesh and said, “this is Levem, it is another homunculos, but it is quite exceptional in some regards as I’m sure you’ve noticed, make sure you rest well, you’re going to have a busy day ahead of you.”
--
Zanzibar groaned and stretched. He leaned back in his chair and reread the letter than he had just finished writing. It was directed towards another patron, one that he was not especially fond of. The demon had done well to hide his disdain as he wrote, but the mere thought of politely requesting anything from the bastard sent shivers down his spine. Still, sacrifices had to be made and he was no stranger to playing kiss ass. With a sigh he folded the letter and sealed it with wax, stamped with his sigil. He whistled for a messenger homunculos, which took the from of a rotund ball of fluff with wings and claws.
“Deliver this for me,” Zanzibar commanded, “if the king wishes for a fight then it is a fight he shall receive.”
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Shang Tsung - 02-19-2018
Argento stared across the landscape at the sneering demon selected from the opposing pit.
In the background, someone was barking instructions and information about the two combatants. The audience, some who recognized the paladin, were already chanting and clamoring for his blood.
For his part, the paladin stood his ground and watched intently as the bipedal devil drew a mace from his waist and stalked his prey. He had been captured with no weapons, but that didn’t mean he was unarmed. Quite to the contrary, Argento knew he had more at his disposal than the red-skinned creature marching toward him.
Flexing his fingers, the paladin reached up and adjusted the breast plate that hugged his chest. Salvaged from some dead gladiator in the pits, the armor fit him as well as he could hope for in a hand-me-down.
The demon got close enough that it broke into a sprint.
Argento side-stepped and buried a fist up into its gaut, exposed gut. As the monster writhed on the floor, the paladin lifted his hands and summoned the Day’Suis in a scintillating sparkle of lights.
“You will not enjoy this,” he whispered as he brought the head of the hammer crashing down onto the monster’s skull.
With no spectacle and the hated holy knight claiming victory, the crowd turned to boos and hisses as the crew rushed out to apprehend Argento. He discarded the hammer and offered his hands like a good convict, and within a few minutes, he was being kicked into a cage down below the facility.
From the next cell over, a human-sounding voice addressed the paladin. “You’ve got an attitude.”
The man shook his head. “Quite the opposite.”
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you? You’re that holy man.”
Argento nodded his head. “Correct.”
“They said you escaped… what happened?”
“I let them return me here.”
The man in the other cell frowned. “Bullshit. No one would do that.”
With a scowl, the paladin looked the man in the eyes and nodded his head. “Correct, but I have business here.”
“You’re insane, aren’t you?”
Argento almost laughed at that remark. “No, but by the end of this, they will wish that I was.”
Quote:Argento running word count: 29,136
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Gilgamesh - 02-22-2018
Gilgamesh eyed the homunculus up and down a few times, admiring the craftsmanship that she must have required. The servant stood before him, completely placated and awaiting his orders. Gilgamesh bent over to inspect the servants red, hollow eyes before speaking to himself, “A homunculus...Well made too. Someone must have used a fine mold to create you.” The servant responding by turning her head to meet Gilgamesh’s gaze.
“Shall I take you to your room then, sir?” Her voice carried a monotonous tone, with a seeming forced smile on her face. Gilgamesh nodded his head and followed her as she began to walk outside into the Villa. While Zanzibar’s home was nothing to scoff at, it didn’t seem to meet the King’s usual standards. Gil, however, was not picky seeing as he had been sleeping on the floor for quite some time. Sporadic trees and greenery decorated the outside of the Villa, which must cost a fortune to maintain. Not long after their initial departure they came to a small cottage.
Levem opened the door for the King, inviting him in. The room itself was fairly nice, there was a bed! Gilgamesh took a second to shudder as he realized how low his standards had become. Ornate pillows blanketed the bed and the room had paintings of interpretations of their lord and savior Diablo. Gilgamesh smirked, this room was meant for no gladiator. The King waved his hand at Levem, urging her to leave his presence. It had been so long since he had washed himself, he had assumed that the red soot would be forever apart of his clothing and skin. Gil had eyed the indoor bath with some fervor, the warm water and steam inviting him to relax in it.
Gilgamesh began to undress, throwing his clothes on some chair in the room. He should summon a new outfit, washing his current one would be so much effort. He rolled his eyes and turned around, slightly startled that Levem was still in the room. Regaining his composure, Gil smirked as he attempted a witty comment, “You’re still here I see. I’m sure even a homunculus like yourself can admire the body of a King.” He smiled a toothy grin, confident in his body.
Levem smiled and tilted her head, “Oh is this your request? It is slightly unusual but I will obey.” The homunculus began to take her top off, Gilgamesh was no longer amused and pulled Levem’s shirt down. His smile was gone but a quick rush of blood to his face caused his cheeks to blush slightly. Gilgamesh grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist before heading outside. Levem continued to follow him despite no orders to do so.
“Yes homunculi. What do you need?” Gilgamesh’s tone was anything but polite. Levem quickly followed behind, no hesitation in her step.
“I am here to assist the master’s guest. I should always be near so you never need to find me.” Gilgamesh felt as if that wasn’t it. Maybe she was making sure the King wouldn’t run and that he could not escape. It made him uncomfortable that he was unaware of her true intentions. Twisting and turning around the Villa, Gilgamesh eventually made it to the indoor Bath House. The red-purple light from the sun’s setting melded with the warm steam from the bath and gave the house a pleasant atmosphere.
Gilgamesh dropped his towel and walked into the warm water. He sat down and let the water caress the dirt off of his skin and sunk into the bath with bliss. His weary muscles and bones for once began to relax and he sunk deeper and deeper into the water. Gil’s eyelids drooped and he gave no struggle to stay conscious and fell into a deep sleep.
____________________________
The King was back in Nippur, the marketplace was completely dead. Booths lay unoccupied, with fresh produce laying there unguarded. Gilgamesh walked around aimlessly, “Hello?” he shouted, his voice echoing into the void. Suddenly, a loud crash was heard over onto the next street, Gilgamesh ran to find the source of this calamity. He paused as he saw a version of himself fighting off the ProtoMouse. Opaque shadows ran away from the onslaught, their piercing screams scratching at his eardrums. The shrieks of terror forced him to the ground, clutching at his ears.
The other version of himself was firing weapons with glee, golden armaments flying with flurry. Many never made their mark with the robotic mouse, but instead sheathed itself into nearby buildings and the vague shadows. Gilgamesh watched as buildings crumbled and the vague shadows dissipated into the floor, leaving a small bloodstain on the floor along with their dispersal.
“No! No! No! This can’t be right! I would never destroy my city.” His wails of despair fell upon deaf ears. The fight was just about to end, Gilgamesh remembered the following events. The other Gilgamesh watched in horror as the ProtoMouse unleashed a bomb upon him, throwing him against a building, having the rubble fall on top of him. The blinding light of the bomb forced him to shield his eyes. The ProtoMouse pulled the faux-Gilded King out of the rubbed and tossed him on the floor. The robotic mouse raised his arm as the two mouthed words silently to each other. A dark ball of energy began to collect in the mouse’s cannon as his words distinctly mouthed, “Banishment Buster!” The other Gilgamesh turned his head to make eye contact with Gil. For the first time, voice escaped the illusions lips.
“It’s all your fault.” His words dragged through the air as he burned away into dark dust. Time seemed to speed up. Seconds seemed like hours and hours seemed like weeks. A shrine of him was built and then quickly destroyed. Visions of guards passing through became less and less frequent. He couldn’t help but see thieves steal from the marketplace and the guards taking bribes. The city became less active and eventually. It died. The sand had worn down the beautiful palace and his city had become what it originally was. A ghost town. Tears flowed down his face. His accomplishments and his people. Gone. How long had he been gone? A week? A few weeks? Two years? He wiped the tears off of his face. He was going to escape this hell. Not for himself but for his nation.
_________________
Gil gasped for air, splashing the bath water around. Levem looked up casually and smiled at the King, “I see you are now awake. Do you need anything?” Gilgamesh glared at her with a scowl. The sun had set and this places’ ‘night’ had begun.
“Why was I allowed to sleep?” His voice had a hint of anger, yet it was held relatively back. He furrowed his brow and glared at the homunculus.
“You seemed content in your sleep. I didn’t need to disturb you.” She said with an upswing in her voice.
Gilgamesh looked at his pruney fingers and saw that the sun had fully set outside. Gilgamesh stepped out of the water, drying himself as Levem eyed his every move. While Gilgamesh may have more modesty around other maidens, this soulless shell doesn’t deserve his embarrassment. He finished drying his hair with the towel before speaking solemnly to the homunculi.
“I am finished with my bath. Take me to my room homunculus.” Gilgamesh began to exit the door, with Levem trailing behind.
As the two entered back into the cottage, Gilgamesh saw his clothing freshly washed and left to dry on a clothesline outside. A pair of pajamas was sitting on his bed with a little night cap sitting playfully on top of it. Gil rolled his eyes as he donned the clothing he was given, Levem waiting there like a little butler the entire time.
Gilgamesh walked over to the entrance of the cottage and opened the door. “Leave.” His face clearly stating that he had no patience for her. She smiled and obliged walking out of the door before stopping nearby the door and taking a seat. The King rolled his eyes, this servant wasn’t going to let him out of her sight. Fine. With that Gil shut the door and locked it, heading to his bed and crawling to sleep, dreaming of better days.
_____________
Gilgamesh awoke to the polite knocking of a door, the intense brightness of the Underverses sun blinding him as he woke up. Gilgamesh stepped out of his bed, his back practically thanking him for actually sleeping on something that wasn’t dirt. He groggily walked out of bed, opening the door to see Zanzibar awaiting him with a smile. Levem was still sitting in the same place she had been all night.
“We have quite the day ahead of us your highness,” Zanzibar said with a peppy tone. Gilgamesh raised his one of his eyebrows in suspicion. “Scripper’s owner replied to my letter and agreed to a rematch for you two.” A smirk rose to Gilgamesh’s face and he leaned his weight against the frame of the door.
“Oh is that so,” his cheery grin making his contentedness known to his master. “I shall slaughter this Scripper, and we both shall reap the benefits.”
Zanzibar gestured the King to step forward before speaking, “Shall we take our leave then? It is quite the ride to the city.” Gilgamesh snapped his fingers, his golden armor forming around his body before the demon’s eyes. The demon himself seemed impressed by the King’s armor and his eagerness to fight. Gilgamesh stepped forward, taking a deep breathe before nodding. It was time for Gilgamesh to get out.
“Let us go.”
__________________________
Gilgamesh was brought to the all too familiar holding area with his favorite Goblin Guard. “What is he doing back here? He just left! I said no take backs!” The goblin protested with his might, praying that the King wouldn’t be thrown back into the cell where he had frequent temper tantrums. Gilgamesh’s bright red eyes glared down onto the goblin, causing the creature great discomfort. Gil’s presence seemed much more confident and Kingly than before. Between the access to his prime powers, his golden armor, and his intimidating demeanor, Gil gave off a threatening aura.
Gil sneered playfully at the goblin, “You will not need to shock me. I am not missing it’s sting and I will not be so accommodating if it happens again.” The goblin couldn’t help but instinctively grasp for his taser at his belt, sweating bullets at the King’s threat.
Zanzibar spoke up with an apologetic tone, “I am sorry my Liege that we would have to return here. I am sure it brings you no fond memories. However, the master of Scripper was very specific about his conditions and I was sure you would be gracious to oblige.”
Gilgamesh turned his head to meet Zanzibar’s eyes before narrowing his own, “Do not take my patience for granted Zanzibar. I am being pleasant to you for you have done me a great service.” The goblin snickered before muttering just loud enough for the King to hear.
“If this is what you look like when your pleasant then I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side.” Gilgamesh glared the the prison keepers snide remark before speaking with confidence and venom.
“No. One does not want to get on my bad side. For you see, mongrel , I can now step my foot down as King. He slouched down to get to the goblin’s eye level, each word more sassy than the last. He gave the goblin a soft smile, letting up as he regained his full stature. He remembered to treat the little guy with some semblance of respect. The Goblin did try and help Gilgamesh despite his tyrannical outbursts.
Gilgamesh outreached his hand to the goblins, “My name is Gilgamesh, King of Heroes I am glad I gave you the pleasure of my presence.” He gave the goblin an earnest smile, to ease his suspicions.
The goblin eyed the King up and down to see the validity of the King’s expression. Before long the goblin shook the king’s hand and responded on his own, “The name’s Blog. I hope I don’t see you here in a while Gilgamesh. I mean that in a good way.” Blog sat back down in his chair shooing away Gil. “You know the way, I am sure the arena is expecting you.” Gilgamesh nodded and walked with Zanzibar to the elevator. Gilgamesh headed into the chamber, with it slowly rising he nodded his head at Zanzibar.
“Knock him dead my liege. Literally.” Zanzibar joked as Gilgamesh disappeared into the ceiling and into the arena.
Gilgamesh smirked as he rose into the arena. While he hated fighting for people’s entertainment, he was going to enjoy distributing public humiliation. The cheers of the people were louder than he had ever heard before. The crowd was split into two, he could hear the distinct chants of “Goldy” and an opposing “Scripper”!
Gilgamesh reached the top of the arena and stepped off the platform, the stadium was completely filled and then some. The feed system however was unusually quiet. The announcer usually makes a quick, obnoxious introduction before the fight starts.
Gilgamesh spoke too soon, “Ladies and Gentlemen. Instead of your normal entertainment announcer today, I Allanon, Commander of the Hellhounds will be shoutcasting the match today.” Gilgamesh grit his teeth as he looked up to see the totally friendly, non threatening Allanon spectating from above.
“Tonight the Golden Princess will be fighting the metal monster, the mechanic murderer, Scripper!” Gilgamesh darted his vision to across the arena to see his first arena murderer. The amalgam of flesh and steel grinned happily at the sight of Gil.
“Begin!” Allanon’s voice echoed through the arena and Scripper immediately began charging at Gilgamesh. A portal opened up next to Gil as he retrieved a golden sword from the it. The monster gave out a wicked laughter as he brandished his sword-arms. The monster scratched at Gilgamesh’s face, however three swords emerged and blocked the creatures strikes.
His raspy, jagged voice spoke in between manic laughter, “Just because you learned a few party tricks doesn’t mean I won’t get to enjoy tasting your flesh.” Scripper swung again and again but his bastardized arms weren’t able to penetrate Gil’s treasures. The swords in front of Gil dissipated as he spoke with a grunt.
“My turn!” Gilgamesh struck down with his blade colliding hard with Scripper’s blade-arms. Each swing of his blade caused sparks to fly as they were blocked, his move on the offensive felt amazing but lasted for a short time. Scripper caught his blade inbetween his arms and tossed it to the side leaving Gil unarmed.
The King hopped back a few steps as the monster advanced. He quickly opened a portal to the side, letting gilded weaponry fly towards his opponent. Scripper batted away many of the blades with his arms, but a few weapons made it past his defenses. Those that did however, bashed against his metal, having his swords fall to the ground harmlessly. By the time Scripper recovered from the barrage Gilgamesh had already pulled out another sword.
Gilgamesh continued to parry each other the monster’s strikes, Scripper getting more and more anxious as his blades longed for Gilgamesh’s blood. Scrippers blades pressed against Gilgamesh’s sword, pushing inwards. Gilgamesh flexed his muscles, pushing the blades outwards and pressing forward with a determinate slash to the fleshy chest. Gilgamesh then made a thrust into the beast’s chest, and pulled it out. The monster stayed standing, his heart no longer where it used to be.
A trickle of blood crawled down the amalgam’s chest. The monster fell into a bloodthirst, flailing aimlessly at Gilgamesh. The monster’s speed and strength, misdirected by every swing of Gilgamesh’s sword. Gilgamesh twirled the monster’s blades aside before pummeling his hilt of his sword into Scripper’s head. He slashed twice into each of the creatures exposed thighs forcing the monster to kneel on the ground. Scripper screamed out in frustration.
“Don’t think you’ve bested me asshole!” Gilgamesh smiled before slashing and retreating a few steps back.
“Well then go on worm. Show me what you got.” The monster rose up and charged at Gilgamesh, his blades going wide to slice Gil into ribbons. As the monster was atop of Gil, he simply stepped to the side, avoiding the monster’s rapid fury. The urge to say “Toro” passed and he opened up his Gates of Babylon shooting luxurious weaponry at his opponent. The onslought of weapons was too much for Scripper, his eyes widened as he attempted to flee. Swords and spears pierced through the monster’s squishy flesh, pinning him to the floor.
Gilgamesh walked over casually, his footsteps growing louder and louder than the metal amalgam’s ragged breathing. “You ass. This was supposed to be another easy fight where I rip you to shreds.” Gilgamesh didn’t give him the pleasure of answering. He instead looked up to see Allanon scowling, he stuck out his thumb, pointing towards the middle. The crowd shouted, “DEATH DEATH DEATH!” Allanon frowned at the arena, before turning his thumbs upwards. The crowd booed at Allanon, wanting blood to be spilled.
*SHKT* Gilgamesh’s blade jabbed at the monster’s throat, Scrapper’s final breathes choking on his own blood.
Quote: 15133 words done
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Sasuke Uchiha - 02-25-2018
“He was my brother.”
The moment Scripper’s mangled body hit the blood stained sand, Allanon’s mind came alive with vivid scenes from the past. Memories of a life in Coruscant; warm family meals, the burial of parents who died too soon, abuse at the various orphanages, getting arrested, getting banished, and the many villainous acts that caused it all flooded Allanon’s psyche. His only solace was that he was never alone. Through it all, and under the names Allan and Scott back then, Scripper and Allanon had always been there for each other; together. That was all over now.
“Did you say something champ?” a man who was garbed in cloaks adorned with Diablo’s crest and holding a clip board questioned the undefeated gladiator.
They racked up quite the rap sheet in Coruscant him and Scott, most lawmen would say they were pieces of shit, and they wouldn’t argue much against it. They’d done some pretty heinous things to people, they knew it, so neither of them were too surprised when the bounty came with the extra incentive to banish. Thing was, Scott was really only ever dastardly to outsiders. When their life of crime finally caught up with them, Scott actually sacrificed himself so Allanon could get away. He threw himself in front of the banishment. It didn’t much matter, as Allanon didn’t make it too far before he too was sent to the Underverse, but that was just the kind of man Scripper was to Allanon.
“He was my big brother.” Allanon voiced the words, barely audible to even himself. Everything surreal, he was still in shock from the loss of his only loved one. Lost in thought, Allanon's mind was a buzz with questions. Did he know? Does it fucking matter? He killed him.
“I can’t hear you.” The coliseum official stated, expressing concern. “Are you saying something, Allanon?”
“I want him next!” The champion blurted out suddenly, at an octane high enough as to draw the attention of everyone in the sky box, garnering far more than he had intended.
“Pardon?” the official stammered, clearly confused by the sudden outburst.
“Goldie.” Allanon said after clearing his throat and lowering his voice to normal, “Make it happen.”
‘Love to oblige, because I, for one, love your work,” the official began, who genuinely looked displeased he had to refute such a successful gladiator, “but unfortunately, you’re next match is already scheduled with a...” he paused as he flipped through papers pinned to his clip board, “An Argento. Apparently he’s a paladin who’s been here before, so it should be a good showing.” The staff person seemed pleased with this.
“I don’t care about that,” Allanon spat, his rage beginning to boil, “I want the false king. Do your job, mark it on your little clip board, and make it so.”
“You forget yourself Allanon and to whom you serve.” Said the official as he shuffled his hands from under his cloak and revealed a twisted length of timber with runes inscribed upon it. “You’re entertaining and you win, that’s why we allow you privilege.” as he spoke he indicated to their being in the sky box and to Allanon's permitted 'Shoutcasting'. He then gave a wave of his wand, summoning a painful brand of Diablo’s crest to sear and singe into Allanon’s skin, “Your list of redeeming qualities end there. Our lord has little use for you outside of that, heed your next words closely champion, they could be your last.”
“Add him.” Allanon snarled through gritted teeth, refusing to voice his agony.
“Excuse me?” the warlock gawked.
“Whatever you have booked for me,” Allanon gave the official a menacing glare before taking his leave, “add Gilgamesh to it!”
RE: The Fallen Kings [M] - Gilgamesh - 02-26-2018
Gilgamesh looked up at the skybox and frowned, looking for any sense of resemblance of distraught from his rival. Allanon, however, was merely speaking to a worthless warlock. Gilgamesh spat in his general direction and without pause walked to the exit of the arena. The two orc-guards standing at the door shifted their spears to block the King from exiting just yet. He made eye contact with one of the orcs before speaking solemnly.
“If you value your meaningless life, I suggest you let me through,” His comment was accompanied by two shimmering, golden portals, threatening to pierce both of the orcs. The other orc, in a fit of fear, brought his polearm up. The orc who maintained eye contact left his polearm, defying the Gilded King. Both portals turned to the orc, shooting spears of his own, both pinning the Orc against the colosseum wall. The second orc, squealed like a pig as he saw his companion bleed out against the wall. Gilgamesh kicked the wooden door open, ungracefully unhinging it from the wall.
“I am in no mood to be defied.” Gilgamesh muttered as he began to descend into the arena’s dungeon. A small smile came to his face at the thought of Zanzibar having to deal with the paperwork from the King’s actions. He continued down the path until he met Blog and Zanzibar waiting in the dungeon. The unscathed Gilgamesh gave the Goblin a nod before turning his head to Zanzibar.
“Take me from this place immediately. I no longer wish to be here.” Gilgamesh was in a sour mood and would not be denied his requests. The frown on his face made it clear to Zanzibar that he was not in a pleasant mood. Blog had learned Gilgamesh’s many signs of anger and recognized this one, making sure to avoid eye contact.
“Yes my Liege,” Zanzibar gave a little bow, slightly confused on why the King was in a foul mood. Winning the battle so handedly would please most gladiators and definitely pleased Zanzibar. The money he made from this match already surpassed his initial investment of the Golden Prime. The two began to exit their stay from the colosseum before a small ringing was heard from Blog’s earpiece. Gilgamesh stopped his master in hopes that he got what he came for. Blog began to nod as the voice began to speak and spoke with meaningless “Mhm….uh huh.” sporadically through the conversation. The conversation ended with a “Got it. Will do,” from Blog before pointing to a man covered in plated armor. “You, Argento get up. The crowd is thirsty for more entertainment. They’re moving your match with Allanon to right now.” The Paladin got up from his seat in the cell.
Blog turned his head to Gilgamesh, “And you, Gilgamesh, Allanon wants to fight you too.” A mischievous grin erupted onto Gilgamesh’s face. He crossed his arms and leaned against a wall before he was about to speak.
“No.” Zanzibar spoke with a frown on his face. Gilgamesh taken aback glared at his current master and grit his teeth. Blog touched his earpiece again to make a call. Gilgamesh grabbed Zanzibar by the shoulder and hissed through his teeth, “How dare you speak for a King? My wish is to destroy Allanon.”
Zanzibar waved his hand and gave the King a soft smile. “You are worth more than that to him my liege. I also need some incentive to let you fight.”
Blog spoke up from the other side of the dungeon, apparently repeating what he had just heard. “One thousand gold coins for the match since it’s so short notice.” Zanzibar frowned and shook his head, putting his hand up in protest. Gilgamesh was getting anxious, impatiently shaking his leg.
The goblin let a long sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose before speaking. “Yeah he still ain’t biting boss. Alright here he is.” Blog took out his earpiece and walked over to Zanzibar, handing it over to him. Zanzibar quickly shifted moods, much more confident and calm than before. Putting in the earpiece, Gilgamesh could hear a frustrated voice screaming into Zanzibar’s ear. Maintaining his calm composure Zanzibar spoke.
“Yeah unfortunately the King is a little tired from his match and does not wish to fight another match today. Maybe some other time,” his voice was patronizing, obviously inciting anger on the other side of the line. Some shouting was heard on the other line before Zanzibar spoke once more.
“I ,however, have some influence over Gilgamesh and if I could be persuaded I could see to it that he fights.” A sly grin came to his face as he heard that he would get what he would ask for.
“I want ten thousand gold coins in advance of the fight and I want to be the official shoutcaster for the fight.” The cunning grin Zanzibar wore spread over to Gilgamesh’s face. “It is done then. He will be up shortly.”
“You are quite the cunning fox, Zanzibar.” Gilgamesh praised the demon, giving him a smile. While he had gained no pleasure in serving others, he was glad that he had met this man.
“I try my liege. Now why don’t you and that Argento fellow discuss how you will destroy Allanon. I better be going off to the skybox.” Zanzibar spoke with cheerfulness before heading off.
Blog walked over to the cell holding the Holy Knight and opened the door, escorting him alongside Gilgamesh. The knight known as Argento kept his head down in silence as he approached the Gilded King.
Both men, familiar with the arena, habitually walked over to the elevator. Gilgamesh glared over to the Holy Paladin, his head down in silence the entire way over.
“I would prepare thyself Knight. This brute revels in the bloodshed of the arena,” his voice thick of disgust for Allanon. Gil glanced over, awkwardly waiting for a response from the silent Knight.
Argento raised his head slightly before responding, “Then it shall be a victory when he falls.” Gilgamesh sighed a breath of relief at the paladin’s cooperative words.
[b] “Yes it will be,” he sighed as the two stepped onto the elevator. The cogs shifted into gear as they two began to ascend into the pit. The audience still as loud and obnoxious as ever. Gilgamesh, however, smiled as he heard the announcer give the introduction of the fight.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I ensure you that this will be the fight of the century. The famed, noble Argento who had escaped slavery but yet returned is allied with the tenacious King Gilgamesh. Their opponent is the brutal slayer, Allanon!” Zanzibar’s voice was a pleasant sound for once and reminded Gil that he was much closer to succeeding his goal.
The two came to a grinding halt as the elevator reached the colosseum. The sight of the two primes caused the audience to cheer with gratuitous uproar. Their shouts were deafening many had began to jump from their seats.
“Fighting for entertainment sickens me.” Gilgamesh frowned as if he had a taste of something sour in his mouth.
Argento smirked and turned his head to the Gilded King, “You and I both.” Across both the primes stood Allanon, his legendary warhammer slung over his shoulder like a baseball bat. His face was not amused and he readied himself as the primes entered the battlefield. Allanon wasted no time, all of his attention was on Gilgamesh. He dashed towards the Gilded King, smashing his warhammer right where Gilgamesh was. A bead of sweat dripped down Gil’s face, he barely jumped out of the way of the warhammer. It’s devastation sending tremors through the earth and sprouting a large crack in the colosseum floor. Gilgamesh was given no time to breath. The mad demon was swinging furiously, his warhammer swinging as fast as if he were swinging a twig.
“Aaaaaand they’re off. Allanon seems to be focused on Gilgamesh. With that Golden hair it's not hard to see why.” Zanzibar teased from the skybox, enjoying himself.
Gil kept retreating, managing to avoid the wild blows that Allanon is trying to deliver. A bright light blinded Gilgamesh for a second before a large hammer crashed into the Demon’s back. Allanon buckled to his knees, giving room for Gilgamesh to breath. He glared at Argento before growling, “You will not interrupt me, Holy Knight!” He managed to get those words out before gilded weaponry began to descend on him. The first spear pierced his leg, startling him. The rest of the weaponry didn’t hit their mark as Allanon gave an enormous swing, the gust of air causing enough force to stop the projectiles in their tracks and fall harmlessly onto the floor.
“You overestimate yourself, mongrel. It seems as if you think you can take on two opponents.” Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes at the demon.
“I crushed you once, I’ll be able to do it again.” Allanon spat with venom.
“Try me, mutt.” Gilgamesh replied. Allanon gathered himself before ripping the golden spear out of his thigh. Gil opened a golden portal, before weilding a golden sword in his hands. The weight of one of his blades felt much nicer than the worthless shit that the arena gave him. Argento was upon the demon, swinging his Day’suis with vindiction. His hammer collided with the goliath’s chest, sliding back Allanon a few feet. Argento followed it up with an overhead bash to the head, however Allanon grabbed the Day’suis and tossed the paladin aside with ease. As Argento tumbled on the floor Gilgamesh ran towards Allanon, speaking as he passed by the Holy Knight.
“You have served your King well. Continue to do so, knight.” As Argento recovered, he had a quizzical look on his face, unaware of Gil’s unusual references. Gil ran towards the unholy monster, Allanon’s warhammer impending. Gil dashed to the side, missing the warhammer and allowing him a quick, superficial slice to the demon’s arm. Allanon brought his warhammer over his shoulder with one arm and punched Gilgamesh with the other. The large demonic fist struck Gil in his face, knocking him back several yards and forced his vision to go black for a few seconds.
“Ooooooh. That one looked like it hurt. It seems that this fight is going to give Allanon the run for his money.” Zanzibar continued on to try and entertain the audience. Gilgamesh couldn’t help but feel as if his master was enjoying this a little too much. Allanon stomped towards Gil, just as he was attempting to stand back on his feet. Allanon brought his warhammer up just as an insanely bright light shone from the Paladin’s weapon. The demon brought his hand to cover his eyes, cringing at the intense brightness. Gilgamesh took this opportunity to get onto his knee and slice a little more deeply into Allanon’s chest. Out of reflex, Allanon swiped his warhammer at Gil, the weapon colliding with the King’s stomach. Gilgamesh flew backwards, his back hitting the arena wall. The air escaped him and he was gasping for air, placing his hand over probably more than a few broken ribs.
Argento was already covering for Gilgamesh, allowing for him to recover. The paladin’s face was stoic and serious, completely absorbed into the battle. Gilgamesh winced as he stood up, waving his hand summoning an array of golden portals to support his temporary ally. Lowering his arm, the weaponry fired at Allanon, forcing the demon to raise his weapon to block the oncoming swords and spears. This gave time for Argento to swing his Day’suis down upon Allanon’s face, forcing the giant demon to eat the dirt.
Allanon spat out the dirt from his mouth and yanked the Paladin’s legs to the ground, forcing Argento onto his ass. He brought down his fist punching into the Paladin’s armor. Three portals opened around Allanon, firing at close range. Allanon’s reflexes were only so fast. Swirling onto his feet, the somehow nimble demon avoided the first two blades entirely. The last blade, a sword, however was too fast for him to avoid. He grabbed the blade with his bare hands, the blade slicing it as it slowly deaccelerated. Allanon tossed the bloody sword to the ground before picking up his warhammer with his sliced hands.
Argento and Gilgamesh were standing side by side, each wielding their respective weaponry and similarly an all too intense face.
Quote:
17266 words done