03-10-2016, 02:47 PM
Behemoth stole the boat, but then grew very unsatisfied with it. It was a large one. Its cargo was worthless, not that a man who had hoarded many riches from all across the sea, could have cared much about that.
The secondary needed a boat. One to bring to shore, and the ones he stole were meant for traveling hundreds of knots through the great ocean. He was in a bit of a dilemma. It was not as though his illusions could bring shapes to life, no, he was no prime. He needed to steal one, if he was not able to make one.
It had become a routine, to steal things he needed. Ever since that... Behemoth paused as he thought of an accurate descriptor for Gildarts the Legendary Prime, there wasn’t much, other than powerful, or noble, but those stole the authority Behemoth perceived of himself, and decided to leave his thoughts at “the Prime, Gildarts” but yes, the two had escaped that hellish prison, a place where neither belonged.
Gildarts had been put there unjustly, or rather, partially... And Behemoth had paid for his sins, and thought that he deserved freedom, for he had grown very powerful, and slowly rose again to the surfaces of the deep.
Behemoth wondered where the Prime was now. Who he was now. Last the secondary had seen of him, he had died on screen, in a far away verse, on an island that had a purpose of only death. Strange, how that industry ran... Behemoth thought he would make a great assassin, but he never liked to do the dirty work himself. Politics, well, Coruscant really got under his skin, but Behemoth had no intention of testing his newly-refined powers on one who had mastered the same skill as he had.
Mind control was a funny thing, yes, ha-ha, funny. Funny because suddenly Behemoth found himself within their mind. If the individual was weak, then they would easily be corrupted. And if they were strong, such as a prime, or one who’s willpower was untestable, Behemoth usually left them be.
There had been a few on the secondary’s ‘night raids’ that had caught his eye. These individuals had caught his eye, unique, like a treasure, one might say. Behemoth let them live. But only if they were strong enough to survive. It was a bit of a test. If they were worthy, they would remember how to swim. If they remembered how to swim, there was a chance that they would live once more, rather than be forced to drown in the rapid turmoils of the deathly ocean.
Behemoth had a strange way of testing those he found interest in. It was borderline insanity- well, for them. For the Prime, Gildarts, he had waded too deeply into his mind, and it was nearly fatal for Behemoth himself. Magic dwelled there. And those who were wizards were not to be messed with. Then there were those with unique... attributes. Those who had a strong sense of intuition, those who wielded a power greater than they themselves knew. Those who were sometimes known as jedi. Unfortunately, these were a lost race. But in the Omniverse, one might have been lucky enough to find one. Then again, your luck could have just run out.
These people, jedi, were a strange race of men. It was a power in their blood that gave them abilities over matter. Not elemental, mind you, but simply, powers of persuasion. Of both mind and matter.
Behemoth was not one of this breed. But his daughter was. Whether she knew it or not. And it was his daughter he had searched for all this time.
All the wealth in the world was worth less to him than dirt if he did not find his daughter. Oh, you didn’t know? That was what all of this was for. The secret hide out, the abduction of ships, the developing of his mind-reading power. He was looking for a clue, in fact, he had been for months. And the trail that lasted twenty years had gone dry once more.
It was worse than prison for Behemoth, for he could not dream of escape, not without risking being caught or found. Sure, he could wipe people’s memories, but that took time and effort. It was much easier to do it when they were trapped on a ship, and had no-where to run, but into the ocean, where they would surely drown if they escaped. Those he raided were cornered, and while their minds were shipwrecked and their fates inevitable, he always kept the ship and stowed it away in his hideout. He could have let it free, or crash somewhere, however traces of larger items could be traced back by patterns of currents, echo-location, or otherwise scientific means.
Behemoth had visited a fortune teller, and he remembered her prediction vividly. She had told him his fate, along with his daughter, would be found in the Vasty Deep, so he had no purpose to leave his favorite verse. The fortune-teller had been helpful, so he had not bothered to treat her like the rest of his human playthings. He had paid her and left, she happened to have passed through Costa Del Sol on some sort of retreat or vacation, she originally was from the floating island of Dalaran. After the fact, he reckoned that she would not have given him an accurate prediction, for she may have been able to see if he had chosen to empty her thoughts as he had the rest. Behemoth was relieved at let the old mage have her thoughts, for what were they to him but more pieces to a slowly unfurling puzzle?
...
The following day, Behemoth set out to snag a small boat. One he could man himself, and it just so happened that one was passing by that day. The greed showed on his face, and a smile snaked its way across his lips.
The reach of his mind was cast and reeling. Suddenly the boat slowed, as if whoever was captaining the boat was already under his spell. He snickered and used his dingy, taken from one of the larger boats, and made his way out to the motorboat.
“Let me aboard.” he tested the waters, so to speak.
The man unwillingly extended a hand and once Behemoth was safely on the boat, he cocked his head to the side and swept the man’s mind. It was a singular boat, so it made sense there was only one inhabitant. It was a nice boat, sleek and fairly new. Behemoth read the man’s life story as though it were written plainly on his glinting green eyes.
Dusk had settled in the sky and nightfall was soon approaching. The man nearly revolted when he saw such a creature of the night, ghastly in shape and texture, pass over him with the essence like that of a ghost.
“My my, you’ve lived an exciting life. Where are you off to?” Behemoth asked, though he knew he didn’t have to. It WAS a game to him, after all.
“Who-”
“The question.” Behemoth insisted, never breaking eye contact.
“Right,” the man obeyed, willingly enough, “I’m off to....”
“Blah blah blah,” Behemoth said, suddenly annoyed and short tempered. He had found something in this man’s mind that he did not like. A scowl bent his slithering smile and his cheeks had hunched into an uneven frown. “Yes, I see you’re going home. You work well to support for your family, but they don’t know that you’ve earned every penny that you gain by your painstaking second job. Yes, you’ve told your wife a lie. I see it all, your lies, your pain, the suffering trials that time and your life have given to you.”
The man stood there, stupefied in his little haze, his eyes were watery, as though swept in a dream as he looked at his captor, Behemoth. “But to make this interesting, I propose we have a little talk, and perhaps a deal. Shall we?” The greed glittered in his eyes like gold, meanwhile the man looked back, Behemoth almost wished he could undo his charm, without fear this whole raid was completely... unstimulating.
Behemoth quickly sorted out the good and the bad from the man’s mind, there was a decent amount of good, and a decent amount of bad. The had cheated on his wife with numerous women, and once with her sister. It disgusted Behemoth even, so much so that he nearly regretted his offer.
“So you’re going to...” The man began.
“I’m going to pay you, to press a button on my island every 104 minutes.” He snickered. The idea was duplicated from this one show he had seen on the television. Prison got a lot of high and low quality television shows. Behemoth drank up the traces of fear in the man’s mind before continuing, “If you don’t, the island will blow up.”
The man’s jaw dropped.
“There’s no escape from the island. And if a boat comes to close, it is not to save you, but to take you away from your sanity. Your sanity is pressing the button every one hundred and four minutes.” The smile coiled on Behemoth’s face. “Oh, and you must do your best to keep my island clean while I’m away, I can’t have you making a mess everywhere.”
And just like that, the man had had his mind altered and changed. He rowed back on the dingy, though it also had a small motor built in. Behemoth was so certain in his abilities, that he did was sure that the man would do exactly as ordered, because Behemoth had offered enough ‘subliminal’ incentive to last any man a torturous lifetime. None of his treasure would be stolen, for he would seal and hide his cave off from the rest of his island, before attempting to use an older model of a cloaking device over the island itself, to keep the man from fleeing, or being taken away against his will.
The man would have to press that button -which was actually a coconut wedged into a rock, made to look, in the man’s mind, like an elaborate control system from some far-off universe, otherwise known as, Coruscant.
The secondary needed a boat. One to bring to shore, and the ones he stole were meant for traveling hundreds of knots through the great ocean. He was in a bit of a dilemma. It was not as though his illusions could bring shapes to life, no, he was no prime. He needed to steal one, if he was not able to make one.
It had become a routine, to steal things he needed. Ever since that... Behemoth paused as he thought of an accurate descriptor for Gildarts the Legendary Prime, there wasn’t much, other than powerful, or noble, but those stole the authority Behemoth perceived of himself, and decided to leave his thoughts at “the Prime, Gildarts” but yes, the two had escaped that hellish prison, a place where neither belonged.
Gildarts had been put there unjustly, or rather, partially... And Behemoth had paid for his sins, and thought that he deserved freedom, for he had grown very powerful, and slowly rose again to the surfaces of the deep.
Behemoth wondered where the Prime was now. Who he was now. Last the secondary had seen of him, he had died on screen, in a far away verse, on an island that had a purpose of only death. Strange, how that industry ran... Behemoth thought he would make a great assassin, but he never liked to do the dirty work himself. Politics, well, Coruscant really got under his skin, but Behemoth had no intention of testing his newly-refined powers on one who had mastered the same skill as he had.
Mind control was a funny thing, yes, ha-ha, funny. Funny because suddenly Behemoth found himself within their mind. If the individual was weak, then they would easily be corrupted. And if they were strong, such as a prime, or one who’s willpower was untestable, Behemoth usually left them be.
There had been a few on the secondary’s ‘night raids’ that had caught his eye. These individuals had caught his eye, unique, like a treasure, one might say. Behemoth let them live. But only if they were strong enough to survive. It was a bit of a test. If they were worthy, they would remember how to swim. If they remembered how to swim, there was a chance that they would live once more, rather than be forced to drown in the rapid turmoils of the deathly ocean.
Behemoth had a strange way of testing those he found interest in. It was borderline insanity- well, for them. For the Prime, Gildarts, he had waded too deeply into his mind, and it was nearly fatal for Behemoth himself. Magic dwelled there. And those who were wizards were not to be messed with. Then there were those with unique... attributes. Those who had a strong sense of intuition, those who wielded a power greater than they themselves knew. Those who were sometimes known as jedi. Unfortunately, these were a lost race. But in the Omniverse, one might have been lucky enough to find one. Then again, your luck could have just run out.
These people, jedi, were a strange race of men. It was a power in their blood that gave them abilities over matter. Not elemental, mind you, but simply, powers of persuasion. Of both mind and matter.
Behemoth was not one of this breed. But his daughter was. Whether she knew it or not. And it was his daughter he had searched for all this time.
All the wealth in the world was worth less to him than dirt if he did not find his daughter. Oh, you didn’t know? That was what all of this was for. The secret hide out, the abduction of ships, the developing of his mind-reading power. He was looking for a clue, in fact, he had been for months. And the trail that lasted twenty years had gone dry once more.
It was worse than prison for Behemoth, for he could not dream of escape, not without risking being caught or found. Sure, he could wipe people’s memories, but that took time and effort. It was much easier to do it when they were trapped on a ship, and had no-where to run, but into the ocean, where they would surely drown if they escaped. Those he raided were cornered, and while their minds were shipwrecked and their fates inevitable, he always kept the ship and stowed it away in his hideout. He could have let it free, or crash somewhere, however traces of larger items could be traced back by patterns of currents, echo-location, or otherwise scientific means.
Behemoth had visited a fortune teller, and he remembered her prediction vividly. She had told him his fate, along with his daughter, would be found in the Vasty Deep, so he had no purpose to leave his favorite verse. The fortune-teller had been helpful, so he had not bothered to treat her like the rest of his human playthings. He had paid her and left, she happened to have passed through Costa Del Sol on some sort of retreat or vacation, she originally was from the floating island of Dalaran. After the fact, he reckoned that she would not have given him an accurate prediction, for she may have been able to see if he had chosen to empty her thoughts as he had the rest. Behemoth was relieved at let the old mage have her thoughts, for what were they to him but more pieces to a slowly unfurling puzzle?
...
The following day, Behemoth set out to snag a small boat. One he could man himself, and it just so happened that one was passing by that day. The greed showed on his face, and a smile snaked its way across his lips.
The reach of his mind was cast and reeling. Suddenly the boat slowed, as if whoever was captaining the boat was already under his spell. He snickered and used his dingy, taken from one of the larger boats, and made his way out to the motorboat.
“Let me aboard.” he tested the waters, so to speak.
The man unwillingly extended a hand and once Behemoth was safely on the boat, he cocked his head to the side and swept the man’s mind. It was a singular boat, so it made sense there was only one inhabitant. It was a nice boat, sleek and fairly new. Behemoth read the man’s life story as though it were written plainly on his glinting green eyes.
Dusk had settled in the sky and nightfall was soon approaching. The man nearly revolted when he saw such a creature of the night, ghastly in shape and texture, pass over him with the essence like that of a ghost.
“My my, you’ve lived an exciting life. Where are you off to?” Behemoth asked, though he knew he didn’t have to. It WAS a game to him, after all.
“Who-”
“The question.” Behemoth insisted, never breaking eye contact.
“Right,” the man obeyed, willingly enough, “I’m off to....”
“Blah blah blah,” Behemoth said, suddenly annoyed and short tempered. He had found something in this man’s mind that he did not like. A scowl bent his slithering smile and his cheeks had hunched into an uneven frown. “Yes, I see you’re going home. You work well to support for your family, but they don’t know that you’ve earned every penny that you gain by your painstaking second job. Yes, you’ve told your wife a lie. I see it all, your lies, your pain, the suffering trials that time and your life have given to you.”
The man stood there, stupefied in his little haze, his eyes were watery, as though swept in a dream as he looked at his captor, Behemoth. “But to make this interesting, I propose we have a little talk, and perhaps a deal. Shall we?” The greed glittered in his eyes like gold, meanwhile the man looked back, Behemoth almost wished he could undo his charm, without fear this whole raid was completely... unstimulating.
Behemoth quickly sorted out the good and the bad from the man’s mind, there was a decent amount of good, and a decent amount of bad. The had cheated on his wife with numerous women, and once with her sister. It disgusted Behemoth even, so much so that he nearly regretted his offer.
“So you’re going to...” The man began.
“I’m going to pay you, to press a button on my island every 104 minutes.” He snickered. The idea was duplicated from this one show he had seen on the television. Prison got a lot of high and low quality television shows. Behemoth drank up the traces of fear in the man’s mind before continuing, “If you don’t, the island will blow up.”
The man’s jaw dropped.
“There’s no escape from the island. And if a boat comes to close, it is not to save you, but to take you away from your sanity. Your sanity is pressing the button every one hundred and four minutes.” The smile coiled on Behemoth’s face. “Oh, and you must do your best to keep my island clean while I’m away, I can’t have you making a mess everywhere.”
And just like that, the man had had his mind altered and changed. He rowed back on the dingy, though it also had a small motor built in. Behemoth was so certain in his abilities, that he did was sure that the man would do exactly as ordered, because Behemoth had offered enough ‘subliminal’ incentive to last any man a torturous lifetime. None of his treasure would be stolen, for he would seal and hide his cave off from the rest of his island, before attempting to use an older model of a cloaking device over the island itself, to keep the man from fleeing, or being taken away against his will.
The man would have to press that button -which was actually a coconut wedged into a rock, made to look, in the man’s mind, like an elaborate control system from some far-off universe, otherwise known as, Coruscant.
![[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