06-10-2015, 07:47 PM
The Lobby. Corridors of shining silver and white, streamed full of people who disrupted the glimmer of daylight. Cameras flashed and the patches of light antagonized his eyes, itching with a heightened sense of thrilling fear.
It was a strangely displaced emotion, for his role in the tournament was over, yet the startling fact remained that his unrestrained magic had not been embraced. He stood on the precipice, always a hair away from the edge of a massacre, and now people, who lacked any sense of caution began to swarm around him. He was engulfed by the smothering scent of sweet cologne, and moved with the clumped tide of newsmen.
He hadn't won, so why were there so many, people prodding him with marshmallow-phones and sentences that struck him with open ended questions?
He hadn't wanted any of it and his heart wasn't there. Over the sparks of light, he saw no darkness, yet the roar of the room faded in his ears, leaving him only to his stirring thoughts. He was left contemplating how to submerge the profound carnivorous power that threatened to swallow him whole, but he knew there was no answer and no solution because there had never been any control in the first place. Those he had met with on the island, and Guu and Erza too, where were they? Did they remain? Did they take the same breaths as him in this very moment? Or were they separated once more by the broken limits of death? And that one woman known as Samus, she had fought fiercer than many of the warriors he had met and fallen. Their survival had gone an unanswered mystery, stirring as an enigma in his distant mind.
Eyes moved to him from the crowd, people unraveled his bandages to get a souvenir as he grimaced and pushed through their lashing grip. Pestering with undeniable temptation, magic surged within him, he held his fist and gulped to keep it down. Baying the storms within.
...
The rioting struggle grew illustrated in the creasing lines of his face. His eyes skimmed the distance, looking for a familiar one, anyone at all that could strike him with the friendly flint of fire, but the translucent and indistinct faces he did see only blurred together with the same mundane gray.
At least that had been the case, until a bruised face hanging in the shadows accidentally turned toward the distracted Prime, who had been aiming his eyes on a point far from the people, for fear of unleashing his worst on the bystanders. Despite the mage's skimming attention span, nothing peaked his interest more than when he caught a fleeting glimpse of his prey. Gildarts felt the restraint of his aim waver as the unhinged trigger within threatened his control in a nagging ferocious pull. Rage rose as freely and unmatched as the gusting wind, and it's heat grew more brazen than the flare of hot lightening.
Kindal had been ducking to avoid the cameras, but it seemed his scandal was vaguely known. Perhaps the secondary who slammed his nose had ended up leaking some information. Kindal was comforted by the thought that the stringy man would be dealt with later, only to be assaulted by another fresh voice.
"Hahaha what happened to you? Meet your pride or something and it decided it wanted it's money back?" Someone nearby had shouted at Kindal, who stopped in place with his eyes full of ferocity and scheming menace; he had been hiding in the crowd with his hunched shoulders stooping low, which didn't surprise Gildarts in the slightest. As Kindal was nothing more than a coward.
Vengeance wasn't the first thing that breached his mind, no, Gildarts was a man slow to anger, but what did flood the rage that rattled within was that of only disappointment.
Kindal brushed past Gildarts, having seen him yet still hoping to slither away in an attempt to avoid his starchy gaze. Caught by the collar of his Syntex polo shirt, Gildarts swung the short once-mercenary, current businessman, in a humiliating fashion.
Hanging by his own noose, Kindal didn't protest, yet instead the muscles bunched and his already purple face swelled with bright color. "Look who I have here." Gildarts uttered to his floundering fish, unamused.
Kindal held his tongue and merely scoffed.
"I would say that I'd give you a taste of what is coming to you, but it looks like someone beat me to the punch." Gildarts referenced the pale man's broken nose that had dried blood smoothing the cracked lines of broken bone.
"Why you-!" Kindal, the man with a superiority complex, had not received the promotion he had hoped from Karl Jak and was sick of the way the Prime was treating him. He launched a fist at Gildarts and it landed over the Prime's eye.
Kindal's eyes filled with shame as Gildarts hadn't even flinched.
"You'll have to do better than that." The auburn-haired male spoke, shaking away the secondary's blow. "And as a man who has done what you have to me, you should be able to take what you dish out."
Gildarts referred to the death sentence he had received in Dante's Abyss, it would be the same shared fate that the vain Kindal now feared, as he remained beneath the Prime's untouchable silver hand.
...
[spoiler]Immortal Curse, Falling On the Sword
The freshly inspired Gildarts knew his rival was waiting for him, if the golden man had proved to be a formidable opponent even with the inhibitor on, then there was hope in the everlasting goal that he would one day be slain.
Gildarts, a mighty hero and plagued by a curse, quested to be slain by someone worthy. Such a fated demise had never crossed his mind, and it never would.
Deep within him, the valiant warrior desired an honorable death to carry on his legacy, but he did not desire to fall by his own hand. The yearning to battle anything stronger than him was embedded in his instinct and he never accept defeat by anyone less than he.
Perhaps there was a profound depth in his desire to be freed of crash magic, yet it was a part of him. He wouldn't accept dying without it, no, the collar he had once reached for meant nothing even as he knew too well of the daunting fear he shared for the fate of those around him, fear they would die by his own hand.
His own words shook him, "Fear is not evil, it tells you what your weakness is. And once you know your weakness, you can become stronger as well as kinder."
Fear of murdering his loved ones was his worst weakness and he was skeptical that it would never be overcome. Of course, there didn't seem to be much death in the Omniverse thanks to Prime resurrection, and yet, this same attempt at reassurance was unable to bring peace to his unsound mind. Instead, his thirst to battle had yet to be quenched. And nor would it be by the arid cascade of sand that blanketed the realm where his rival dwelled.
There were many things the Prime did not know, such as that his Leader Guu had once defeated the man, that the golden king ruled over the dunes as a mighty tyrant, and that the same king was unable to be slain by anyone but a god.
Of these things, and perhaps the most important, Gildarts had no way to know:
His name was Gilgamesh.[/spoiler]
It was a strangely displaced emotion, for his role in the tournament was over, yet the startling fact remained that his unrestrained magic had not been embraced. He stood on the precipice, always a hair away from the edge of a massacre, and now people, who lacked any sense of caution began to swarm around him. He was engulfed by the smothering scent of sweet cologne, and moved with the clumped tide of newsmen.
He hadn't won, so why were there so many, people prodding him with marshmallow-phones and sentences that struck him with open ended questions?
He hadn't wanted any of it and his heart wasn't there. Over the sparks of light, he saw no darkness, yet the roar of the room faded in his ears, leaving him only to his stirring thoughts. He was left contemplating how to submerge the profound carnivorous power that threatened to swallow him whole, but he knew there was no answer and no solution because there had never been any control in the first place. Those he had met with on the island, and Guu and Erza too, where were they? Did they remain? Did they take the same breaths as him in this very moment? Or were they separated once more by the broken limits of death? And that one woman known as Samus, she had fought fiercer than many of the warriors he had met and fallen. Their survival had gone an unanswered mystery, stirring as an enigma in his distant mind.
Eyes moved to him from the crowd, people unraveled his bandages to get a souvenir as he grimaced and pushed through their lashing grip. Pestering with undeniable temptation, magic surged within him, he held his fist and gulped to keep it down. Baying the storms within.
...
The rioting struggle grew illustrated in the creasing lines of his face. His eyes skimmed the distance, looking for a familiar one, anyone at all that could strike him with the friendly flint of fire, but the translucent and indistinct faces he did see only blurred together with the same mundane gray.
At least that had been the case, until a bruised face hanging in the shadows accidentally turned toward the distracted Prime, who had been aiming his eyes on a point far from the people, for fear of unleashing his worst on the bystanders. Despite the mage's skimming attention span, nothing peaked his interest more than when he caught a fleeting glimpse of his prey. Gildarts felt the restraint of his aim waver as the unhinged trigger within threatened his control in a nagging ferocious pull. Rage rose as freely and unmatched as the gusting wind, and it's heat grew more brazen than the flare of hot lightening.
Kindal had been ducking to avoid the cameras, but it seemed his scandal was vaguely known. Perhaps the secondary who slammed his nose had ended up leaking some information. Kindal was comforted by the thought that the stringy man would be dealt with later, only to be assaulted by another fresh voice.
"Hahaha what happened to you? Meet your pride or something and it decided it wanted it's money back?" Someone nearby had shouted at Kindal, who stopped in place with his eyes full of ferocity and scheming menace; he had been hiding in the crowd with his hunched shoulders stooping low, which didn't surprise Gildarts in the slightest. As Kindal was nothing more than a coward.
Vengeance wasn't the first thing that breached his mind, no, Gildarts was a man slow to anger, but what did flood the rage that rattled within was that of only disappointment.
Kindal brushed past Gildarts, having seen him yet still hoping to slither away in an attempt to avoid his starchy gaze. Caught by the collar of his Syntex polo shirt, Gildarts swung the short once-mercenary, current businessman, in a humiliating fashion.
Hanging by his own noose, Kindal didn't protest, yet instead the muscles bunched and his already purple face swelled with bright color. "Look who I have here." Gildarts uttered to his floundering fish, unamused.
Kindal held his tongue and merely scoffed.
"I would say that I'd give you a taste of what is coming to you, but it looks like someone beat me to the punch." Gildarts referenced the pale man's broken nose that had dried blood smoothing the cracked lines of broken bone.
"Why you-!" Kindal, the man with a superiority complex, had not received the promotion he had hoped from Karl Jak and was sick of the way the Prime was treating him. He launched a fist at Gildarts and it landed over the Prime's eye.
Kindal's eyes filled with shame as Gildarts hadn't even flinched.
"You'll have to do better than that." The auburn-haired male spoke, shaking away the secondary's blow. "And as a man who has done what you have to me, you should be able to take what you dish out."
Gildarts referred to the death sentence he had received in Dante's Abyss, it would be the same shared fate that the vain Kindal now feared, as he remained beneath the Prime's untouchable silver hand.
...
[spoiler]Immortal Curse, Falling On the Sword
The freshly inspired Gildarts knew his rival was waiting for him, if the golden man had proved to be a formidable opponent even with the inhibitor on, then there was hope in the everlasting goal that he would one day be slain.
Gildarts, a mighty hero and plagued by a curse, quested to be slain by someone worthy. Such a fated demise had never crossed his mind, and it never would.
Deep within him, the valiant warrior desired an honorable death to carry on his legacy, but he did not desire to fall by his own hand. The yearning to battle anything stronger than him was embedded in his instinct and he never accept defeat by anyone less than he.
Perhaps there was a profound depth in his desire to be freed of crash magic, yet it was a part of him. He wouldn't accept dying without it, no, the collar he had once reached for meant nothing even as he knew too well of the daunting fear he shared for the fate of those around him, fear they would die by his own hand.
His own words shook him, "Fear is not evil, it tells you what your weakness is. And once you know your weakness, you can become stronger as well as kinder."
Fear of murdering his loved ones was his worst weakness and he was skeptical that it would never be overcome. Of course, there didn't seem to be much death in the Omniverse thanks to Prime resurrection, and yet, this same attempt at reassurance was unable to bring peace to his unsound mind. Instead, his thirst to battle had yet to be quenched. And nor would it be by the arid cascade of sand that blanketed the realm where his rival dwelled.
There were many things the Prime did not know, such as that his Leader Guu had once defeated the man, that the golden king ruled over the dunes as a mighty tyrant, and that the same king was unable to be slain by anyone but a god.
Of these things, and perhaps the most important, Gildarts had no way to know:
His name was Gilgamesh.[/spoiler]
![[Image: -Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif]](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/35600000/-Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif)
"I have never met a strong person with an easy past." -Atticus