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year 5, quarter 3
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After the space between them was properly clo. sed, it took Quistis to physically guide Gilgamesh's meaty grip on the paper message down to her level so that she might read its contents aloud, referencing something about how 'magic lights the night' and a thing about blue butterflies. She calls it 'Plaisir de Magica', the words rolling off her tongue with perfect enunciation.
”The Pleaser-dee-Mañana?” Gilgamesh tried to repeat, butchering the name worse than any meat seller in Torensten ever could. ”A training grounds for students of spellcraft...” Although his own grasp of sorcery was nowhere close to the level of amateur, the swordsman still paled in comparison to an accomplished mage. Perhaps it would be useful to inquire about these services at a later point in time?
According to Quistis, there would be an abundance of what she called "electric animals" at this new location, a concept that stirred his imagination with colorful images of fulgurous creatures that flickered and darted across the starlit skies in streaks of hot white light as if shaped from bolts of lightning cast down from tshe heavens themselves.
Given a signal to follow closely, Gilgamesh opted to avoid the congested street traffic this time around and made sure to keep within at least three meters of his treasure hunting partner. Even though he felt stupendously awkward being so tall and big, it certainly proved an advantage when it came to keeping tabs on Quistis among all these people.
As they meandered through Torensten, closing in on their new destination, the teacherly woman aimed a question toward Gilgamesh. If he could have a wish granted, what would it be?
”That's easy! It's—uh, wait a sec...” Gilgamesh paused as he lifted a finger, unable to continue with his statement. ”Hhrrnn...” It's not that he didn't have an answer to provide Quistis; on the contrary, he had too many to state at once.
One of the first things to cross his mind would be the opportunity to test his mettle against the Warriors of Light again, namely the boy called Bartz Klauser; it had been far too many moons since he clashed swords with heroes as mighty and virtuous as them, and after so many defeats at their hands, Gilgamesh was determined to even the score against them, one way or another.
But in order to defeat them, he has to acquire holy Excalibur, the sacred blade of legends, and Gilgamesh had no idea if this world even had such a fabulous piece of treasure stashed away in some random treasure box or reliquary or whatever other kind of container you put a priceless sword into.
On top of that, he still had no clue where faithful Enkidu had gone off to, another painful fact which deeply upset the warrior as he reminisced on all that had occurred thus far.
And yet, a part of him still wished merely to return back home, before that splintery toothpick Exdeath had banished him to the Rift. In fact, maybe he ought to wish for the power to stick it to that overgrown piece of plywood firsthand...
The more he continued to reflect on Quistis' inquiry, the less prepared he actually felt to yield her a satisfactory reply. Truth be told, it seemed as if, for the first time in a rather long while, Gilgamesh really didn't know what he wanted for himself.
Perhaps this might require a bit of serious thought, after all.
Aware that he was taking forever to respond, though, Gilgamesh quickly segued into a grating laugh and took an emphatic pose, putting both hands against his hips. ”I'll admit, it's rather difficult for me to give you a direct answer, Miss Quistis,” said the warrior, ”but this is because I cannot think of a singular thing to wish for!” At least he was being honest, even if vaguely so.
Overhearing this from beyond their field of view, the samurai with no name shook his head and gave a cursory shrug. Was he being intentionally obtuse, or was Gilgamesh truly this simple-minded?
”More importantly, however, I feel that the premise of a perfect wish is unrealistic and leads only to an even deeper lack of fulfillment. To have one's desires satisfied instantly, without exerting any effort for it, implies that such a reward is, ultimately, undeserved and meaningless. Only when a goal is seized with your own two hands can it be enjoyed to its fullest, because then you will have earned the object of your happiness, and it will be that much more satisfying in the process!”
Okay, wherever the hell all of that came from, it was certainly one of the more profound statements to leave Gilgamesh's mouth. But he would merely shrug after it was said and done, as it was just an opinion of his, and he was entirely used to having them disregarded. ”But, I'm not exactly a, er, waddayacallem, philo-sopho-foe-foe-fer? Thinking about this kind of stuff isn't really my strong suit.” Again, points for honesty.
@blacksuit3 ● I FIXED MY LAST POST, SOME PARAGRAPHS COPIED, LMAO ● 835 WORDS
Quistis gave a smile and shook her head at Gilgamesh trying to repeat her. The pronunciation was super hard. She repeated it again, “Plaisir de Magicka.” Her teacher's tone shone through for a moment. “It is meant more to be an amusement park, for those who have no magical ability. They can test their hands at what it would be like to spellcast.”
[break][break] As they meandered through the streets, she seemed to struck him into a contemplative silence for a time. It had meant to be a light hearted question, but it seemed she had struck him. She looked up to him curiously when he did reply. She did suppose that if one had many wishes, it would make it hard to choose. She simply gave him a smile to let him know she was listening, and a soft nod of her head. “This is true. It is much more rewarding to earn something than to have it handed to you.” She was a little surprised at his insight. It was never wise to judge a book by its cover.
[break][break] Though there were some things that you can work toward, but never reach. Isn’t that what a wish was for? A desire that was unattainable by any other means?
[break][break] She decided not to press the subject. Especially when he wasn’t so “philo-sopho-foe-foe-fer”. And since he didn’t pass the question back to her, she did not respond with her own wishes.
[break][break] Instead, they made it to the gates of Plaisir de Magicka. The booth was letting people in for free tonight for the event. Now that the night had come, the place looked absolutely magical. The place had been decorated in beautiful glowing crystals that lined and lit up the paths. Lights decorated the trees and there were were beautiful animals sculpted and lit up for the enjoyment of all. A lady at the front booth offered her and Gilgamesh paper cups of tea. Quistis took one and passed through into the area.
[break][break] “Ok...let’s see if we can find a blue butterfly then.” She started down one of the paths, looking just beyond its borders for the butterfly.
Gilgamesh hadn't expected anything to come about from Miss Trepe's interrogations; most of what had left his mouth was, for all intents and purposes, a half-baked effort to obfuscate his general lack of mindfulness and come off smarter than he actually was, or at least a little more attentive. But for her to actually agree with him, even partially, made the dimwit swordsman physically do a double take.
Seeing as how his teacherly counterpart was already on the move toward the next destination, Gilgamesh was provided no time to stew in his bewilderment and, wanting to avoid losing Miss Trepe in the crowd of participants and spectators, clumsily tried to force his way through incoming traffic for what would be the third time tonight.
It was difficult for Gilgamesh to maintain his sense of direction, much less even pretend like he had one at all, so it took him a little more concentration on his end to pick out certain locations and landmarks that would help him to remember where he was at, and where else to go next.
Thankfully, the Plaisir de Magica stood out even more than Gilgamesh did: scores of crystals hovered about the streets of Torensten, casting their iridescent light in every direction; streams of ribbons and garland wrapped around the lamplights and trees, painting the town with streaks of pink and red; luminous magical constructs took the form of various animals and beasts, ensorceled with the power of animation so that their presence offered an additional layer of immersion and charm for tonight's festival-goers; and—precisely as Miss Trepe had elaborated on moments ago—dozens of people across all ages stood around specially marked stations, each one of them giddy with excitement as they learned to harness and guide the arcane powers responsible for the practice of magic.
Stupefied and amazed at what he was looking at, the weapons collector merely stood there, as if he had been discovered hiding under a cardboard box in the middle of the street. ”By Shiva's crystal crown...” Were it not for the benefits of common sense and short term memory, Gilgamesh would have never recalled that he was in the middle of a treasure hunt.
Reminded of this fact, he aggressively shook his head and (figuratively speaking) clawed his way back to reality. ”What an illustrious view! I've never seen such splendor in all my days!” Just as he was about to take a step inside the Plaisir de Magica, an attendant for the evening waved down every passerby that came in her direction, offering little plastic cups full of some mysterious liquid substance. Not one to turn down an act of hospitality, Gilgamesh freely took up the vessel between his comparatively giant-sized fingers, offering the lady a stiff bow of formal gratitude. ”And I thank you most kindly for the beverage! Even living legends need to stay refreshed!” With a single gulp, he put back the liquid—
—then coughed furiously. What kind of drink was this!? Understandably caught off guard by its bitter aftertaste, Gilgamesh put his nose to the cup and took a large whiff—
Oh, it's just tea?
Huh.
Why does it taste so weird? Gilgamesh looked wistfully at the cup in between his fingers, frowning slightly. ”Probably not something I'll acquire a taste for anytime soon, that's for sure...” he said to himself, crumpling the little paper vessel up before tossing it behind him, unknowingly landing the piece of trash straight into a nearby receptacle. ”Now, where the heck is this butterfly at?”
As he began to search for the animal mentioned in their last clue, Gilgamesh took a cursory look at his treasure hunting partner, Quistis, which then brought her earlier question back to the front of his mind. He wondered if it was even appropriate to dredge it back up, but a part of him felt a tad curious as to where her intentions rested at the time she asked it.
Screw it, you only live once. ”Please forgive my poor timing, Miss Quistis, but, er...what is it that you would wish for?” A brief pause lapses before Gilgamesh, frantically trying to avoid being taken out of context, began waving his hands in front of him, going somewhat red in his painted face, ”N-N-Not that I'm trying to pry or anything! You don't even have to humor me here! I just, uhh, I just don't want you to feel, uhh...awkward...”
Yeah, Quistis isn't the one feeling awkward here, buddy.
@blacksuit3 ● Butterfly coming up next post! ● 745 WORDS
[attr=class,text] Quistis watched as his reaction to the view was so full of wonder. Perhaps she should be a tour guide, just to see this look on people’s faces more often. It was quite warming. Even if this was not the date she expected, it was certainly an interesting event. “It seems these were not the typical places you visited.” Her smile was warm. “What places do you typically see?” [break][break] It was clear he was new to the area. But he also seemed to not understand much of basic human interaction. It made her curious. “You’re a living legend? Will you tell me of your accomplishments?” She tilted her head to the side, hoping her words would not be misconstrued as rude. Was this person of greater importance than she thought? [break][break] He began coughing furiously and she felt an urgency to act. Was he choking on something? Had a bug been in his drink? She closed the distance between them and patted along his back. When he recovered she soothingly rubbed his back, watching him to make sure he was okay. [break][break] Thankfully, he was. The taste was just too much for him. “We could ask for them to use cream and sugar, next time.” She suggested helpfully, her brow drew together in this awkwardness. And thankfully, he was already recovered and off again. Gilgamesh sure had a lot of energy in him. Quistis was struggling to keep up. She began walking the path, her eyes looking out for this blue butterfly. [break][break] Then he returned her question out of the blue. “Hm?” That response seemed to cause him to get all flustered. She raised her eyebrows and waved both her hands in front of her. “Oh no. It’s all right.” She rubbed the back of her neck as she thought about it. Now that it was turned back to her when she had least expected it she struggled on how to put her wish into terms. “I guess, I just want to find some place I belong. A place where I can inspire others as much as they inspire me.” And perhaps then, she could find the special someone for her. “It’s silly, isn’t it?” She pushed her hair behind her ear and looked away, as if to search for that butterfly again.
Between the endless distractions of the Voyage de Amour and trying to aid Miss Trepe in winning this treasure hunt, it could certainly be seen as a shocker that Gilgamesh hadn't simply bugged out of Torensten whenever the first opportunity presented itself. So much was happening all at once, but none of tonight's festivities had anything to do with fighting or combat, which had been his original reason for wanting to participate in these shenanigans.
”My adventures have taken me cross the four corners of the world, past the reaches of sea and sky, and even beyond the thresholds of time and space. Yet there is not a single location which I have visited that could hold a candle to such glittering beauty.” Truth be told, however, Gilgamesh was feeling desperately out of his element here. As much as he wanted to throw hands and brawl, the fact that his spear was still somewhere out in the world left the weapons collector feeling vulnerable, exposed, naked. Being surrounded by, well, all of this, only exacerbated his growing sense of alienation, and he certainly couldn't work up the confidence to be his usual, annoying self without having a hold over his signature weapon.
But this woman... For all intents and purposes, she was a complete stranger, one that had nothing to gain from tolerating one so oblivious and quixotic as Gilgamesh. She had went out of her way to make sure he wasn't suffocating from that tea he swallowed in one gulp, giving him a few compassionate pats on the back for good measure. She even asked for him to tell stories about his past adventures! Nobodyever does that!
Whether it was out of simple confusion or some hidden deficiency of the brain, the swordsman could not fathom what compelled Miss Trepe to be so...
Friendly?
Talking to her may very well be the most daunting challenge Gilgamesh has ever faced. When Miss Trepe began to talk about her own desires, what came from her lips struck the warrior as a tune he was wholly familiar with: she simply wanted to find her place in the world. Somewhere to belong. To be accepted, to work and inspire as a role model for the younger generations.
She called her dream silly, then tried to disregard what had been said.
”No, it's not!!”
His response comes out suddenly, unconsciously, expressed with a degree of visible upset that had been all but absent up until this very moment. Gilgamesh didn't understand a large number of things—this entire festival being one of them—but he wasn't about to let his new acquaintance get away with dismmissing her ambitions so...so...casually!
Trying to be mindful of his usual habits, Gilgamesh lifted a soft fist to his mouth and produced an awkward cough, then took a long and serious look at Quistis, kneeling before her so that he could speak at eye level. As equals.
”Please, do not call your dreams silly. It tortures me to hear you speak as if they are not worthy of consideration,” His vocal tone became low and serious, yet it practically dripped with empathy for her situation, another unusual shift in character for a man whose redeeming traits were probably few enough to count on one hand. ”I have fought scores upon scores of opponents throughout my long life. My strength has left entire armies in tattered shambles, ruined beyond repair. But not a single one of those souls lacked for ambition, even as they threw themselves at my blades, because they had believed what they were fighting for, was also worth dying for.” He paused. ”I remember all of their faces...to this very day, they still haunt me, no matter how much distance I put between myself and my past...”
He looked away from Quistis, casting a pensive gaze to the people enjoying the spectacle of the Voyage de Amour. A young boy, lively and vibrant, beckons to his friends; two girls, roughly the same age, eagerly skip their way over to participate in a game he discovered; Gilgamesh looked elsewhere; an elderly man scoops up a child in his arms, his kin; they both laugh; soldiers in armor keep a silent vigil, ready for danger, but the atmosphere is just as warming to them as it is the citizens of Torensten.
Each and every one of these people reminded Gilgamesh of someone he had fought in the past, whether they were a nameless nobody or a hero of unprecedented reputation. They had lives. They had jobs. They had families. People that loved them.
None of them are alive now. The day they chose to face Gilgamesh in battle, was the day their dreams died alongside them. A warrior could not make room for regrets on the field of battle. The rules were simple: kill, or be killed.
Quistis Trepe had asked him to regale her with stories of his achievements. What was never given the chance to be mentioned, however, was the price that one must pay to become immortalized in the pages of history. Try as he did to make himself appear glamorous, it did nothing to suppress or eliminate the crushing pain that came with shouldering the burden of his victories and losses, his successes and failures.
Gilgamesh took another long, imploring gaze at Quistis. ”As someone who is responsible for destroying the dreams of countless lives, please, do not make the mistake of believing that your's are unimportant enough to pursue. That much, you owe to the people who aspire to follow in your footsteps.”
---
From afar, the nameless ronin had overheard Gilgamesh speaking to Quistis, and found himself moderately surprised by all that was said. Who knew that a bumbling oaf felt so strongly about such abstractions? It certainly painted him in a more unique light, the samurai surmised, taking a bite out of a toffee-covered apple he had purchased some minutes ago.
But the way he spoke about these things made the sword-carrying vagrant wonder what Gilgamesh truly had to feel regret over. A true veteran of combat could detach himself from his emotions and allow his sword to speak for him, but this one, he seemed to do the exact opposite whenever he fought; that is to say, he allowed his feelings to run amok like a bull in a china shop.
Was he simply not disciplined enough, or was it these very feelings that gave Gilgamesh the strength to defeat him? He shook his head in disbelief, but quickly shrugged his shoulders as if resigning to the ambiguity that surrounded his loss. And here I was hoping to play a harmless prank as recompense... he mused.
---
It is said that butterflies are a motif used by classical artists to depict the human soul, and by extension, have also been considered a manifestation of the unconscious mind. A fitting symbol of tonight's extravaganza, as Torensten brewed and bubbled with the passions of her citizens as they shared and mingled with one another, happy to be part of something much larger than themselves.
As if it were sorcerously attuned to the feelings of its visitors, the Plaisir de Magica suddenly lights up in a rainbow of sparks and colors, sending bursts of magic into the air which exploded in a similar fashion to gunpowder fireworks, yet as their radiance dispersed, from the glittering remains of each arcane bolt emerged its own swarm of butterflies, themselves magical constructs given shape for the Voyage de Amour, each cluster shimmering in nearly every color of the visible spectrum.
All, save for a single, blue speck of light, which hovered and fluttered just above Gilgamesh's peripheral view. Noticing this, he suddenly breaks free of his melancholia and furiously points over Quistis's shoulder, hoping to capture her attention with his sudden change of attitude. If all else failed, he simply had to point it out: ”Hey, look! There it is!”
@blacksuit3 ● I'M NOT CRYING, YOU'RE CRYING ● 1,322 WORDS
[attr=class,text] She listened to his adventures. “Across time and space?” She was impressed and she nodded. Her mind tried to imagine what he may have seen. She too had traveled across time and space, and even survived time compression. Though she was curious. “And do you mean the park as a glittering beauty?” She was surprised that with all his travel, he could not see something so gorgeous. Surely, he was simply being polite. [break][break] But, as the conversation drifted off. His response to her answer of what she would wish for was surprising. Or rather, the more boisterous nature of it. She felt the heat rise to her face and she looked down at her twisting hands. She just didn’t expect someone to be so loud at stating her business in the park. His words were kind, but his tone was breaking all social conduct. [break][break] And it felt like she offended him somehow. Something not befitting when working on a team. [break][break] Then, he knelt before her, as if proposing. Everyone was turning to stare. She felt her face burning, as she tried to politely listen to him. When they realized it was not a proposal, then the crowd slowly began to move on. They murmured disappointingly to themselves. [break][break] And no matter how embarrassed, Quistis took his meaning. “Then, I will value my dreams.” She tried to reassure Gilgamesh. “And perhaps, one day, you can look back on this moment and know… You no longer have to be haunted by killing dreams, but encouraging others to embrace them.” Quistis was in no place to judge him for standing against opponents. Her work as a mercenary had her do the same. [break][break] She politely lowered her eyes. It seemed he was starting to regret those choices he made now. The only thing he could do was change his current actions to reflect what he preferred. [break][break] Sparks of light interrupt them. Part of her was happy to break the strange tension to stare up at the popping of lights. Each light fizzled into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. It was full of strange beauty that only magic could pull off. Her eyes were drawn away by Gilgamesh’s shouting? [break][break] “Then, let’s follow where it is to land.” She was already up and heading in the direction she thought it was. It was already starting to disappear from view. She began to hurry in that direction along the paved path. There seemed to be one hidden there among the park's garden. She began to make her way along it.
Gilgamesh could hear the disappointed sighs emanating around himself and Miss Trepe; they were the bemused murmurs of a crowd expecting him to sweep the damsel off her feet, figuratively and perhaps even literally, and issue a most grand and momentous proposal for marriage. Amidst the resplendent explosion of magical butterflies and the prismatic shifting of colors, it appeared as if the clueless swordsman had utterly ruined a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to express his true feelings—even though that's precisely what Gilgamesh had just finished doing—at least, according to the festival's more emotionally invested participants.
Naturally oblivious to the underlying context, the warrior simply fixed his attentions toward Quistis and her only. She pledged to value her ideals, if only to pay lip service to his earlier outburst, with the addition of an extra point of commentary: that Gilgamesh might one day be able to move forward himself, to encourage others to embrace their dreams rather than drown in the anguish of the ones he had broken.
Although he had about as much sense as a boiled turnip on most days, even Gilgamesh could recognize the wisdom behind Miss Trepe's words. He could also see that his antics were doing a number on her ability to remain composed, and that it was inflicting harm to their chances of winning this scavenger hunt.
The claws of neurosis grip at the warrior's brain once more. Was he to chase the butterfly down, or put the feelings of Miss Trepe before the taste of victory? Damn it, why am I always stuck with the hard choices?! he screamed internally, as if he were being pulled in half by his arms and legs. Gilgamesh shot a frantic look at the fleeing magical edifice, even though it traveled through the air at about as leisurely of a pace as one could make it go.
Unwilling to fail at two separate tasks simultaneously, an impulse of clearly psychotic origin grabs hold of Gilgamesh at the last second, and an idea crystallizes itself.
Gilgamesh stooped low, as if bowing. ”Say, I hope you're not scared of heights, 'cuz I'm really sorry about this next part!” he apologized with a reverent tone before suddenly slipping his enormous arm beneath her smaller and much lighter frame, aiming to lift Quistis straight off her feet and into something of a seated posture.
For once, the hapless giant's clownish antics had produced positive dividends, as the ability to use a man's flexed biceps as a chair was impressive enough to draw a few pleased cheers and hollers from many of the festival-goers.
Even the nameless ronin blinked twice at the spectacle. For once, I must admit, that is rather impressive.
But their amazement would quickly fade into confusion, only to turn swiftly into shock as soon as Gilgamesh, now ready to pursue his target with Miss Trepe close at hand, crouched dangerously low to the ground, then launched himself up into the air, passing by all the strings and clusters of decorations until his feet made contact with the terracotta tiles of a rooftop.
Without pause, the butterfly abandons it lepidopteran form so that it could streak further away from Gilgamesh as an orb of cerulean light, having apparently recognized it was now being pursued actively. A wave of gratitude long denied washes over the warrior, causing him to grin with delight. ”Flee all you like, you are no match for my famous footwork!” boasted Gilgamesh, before he turned to Quistis and suggested, ”You might want to hold fast, Miss Trepe, because I'm afraid I cannot afford to dally here.”
Certain the bluish streak would not simply vanish without a proper chase, Gilgamesh still had to make sure that he could transport Quistis as safely as possible without running the risk of putting her in danger. Sure, he was eager to win at all costs, but he was still a proper warrior, dammit, and he was participating in a team excercise; that would have been like abandoning a wounded brother-in-arms to an advancing squad of soldiers for the sake of eliminating the enemy general—he could not justify leaving this woman to chase after him, at ground level, on foot, without relying on any totally cool feats of superhuman performance. He would rather string himself up by his own toes before letting that happen!
The short of it was simple: Gilgamesh would not move until Miss Trepe was also ready to.
But it's never really that simple when Gilgamesh gets involved, is it?
@blacksuit3 ● Next location coming on my next post! ● 749 WORDS
[attr=class,text] Was he alright? Quistis tried futilely to understand why he suddenly looked so frantic. Had she said something wrong? Suddenly, she felt her insecurity seep back into her. Her fingers absentmindedly fidgeted at the brocade on her tie. It was bad enough she was embarrassed by everyone staring at them. Were they also watching her as she said something wrong? Her brow creased and she could already feel the emotion tug at the edges of her lips. [break][break] Then suddenly, he acted. Despite being 'sorry', he continued with his act. She let out a surprised gasp as she suddenly found herself nested in the nook of his arm. “I’m...uh not…” There was a lump in her throat. Heights were not terrifying. Going with the whims of a possible madman who decided to sail through the air however... She felt her heart suddenly in her throat. There was no choice but to try to wrap her arms around his neck piece the best she could. Her legs locked back against the bulk of his arm. [break][break] Despite his quick boldness, he seemed to land on the roof with a warrior’s grace. When she opened her eyes again, the butterfly dashed its blue light away from them. She now understood that Gilgamesh had meant to pursue their original objective again. Relief washed over her at understanding what was on his mind. Though, he seemed a little late on his warning to hold fast. She looked over his armor trying to find an appropriate way to ‘hold fast’. [break][break] The best she could manage was to hold tight to the crimson cloth of his head dress. And perhaps cast a soft, barrier spell. The air picked up softly, like a caressing touch. They shimmered a bluish color that faded. “Ah. One more moment, please.” Another swell of green wind touched upon them. A soft haste spell to invigorate his spirits. "Ready." She closed her eyes. She felt like a teacher again, letting the student take charge.
As Quistis took up fistfuls of cloth in preparation for what was about to transpire, she was prudent enough to cast a magical paling around her gargantuan escort-slash-vehicle, following through with another spell that conjured a sorcerous wind beneath Gilgamesh's feet, enchanting them with the swiftness of lightning itself. Hyperbolically speaking, of course; that's if the laws of physics had anything to say.
Her arcane reinforcements bolster the warrior's competitive spirit, and the moment Miss Trepe gives him the signal, Gilgamesh eagerly snarls like a boar ready to charge. It might have been natural instinct for her to close her eyes, but it was also important to consider that now was a perfect opportunity to be a witness to his claims of legendary prowess.
”This next clue is as good as ours! Onward, to victory!” Gilgamesh shouted, loud enough to draw a few puzzled expressions from some of the festival-goers at street level, before his body suddenly leaned in, then shot forward as if it had been propelled through some kind of accelerator machine, courtesy of Miss Trepe's Haste spell; where his running speed was already impressive before, her enchantment gave him the swiftness of lightning itself, allowing Gilgamesh to seemingly rocket across the rooftops like a crimson blur, all while boisterously bellowing out that hideous, ear-grating laughter of his. ”Mwahahahaha!”
With polished precision, he sails across a gap between the streets, landing perfectly against the tiles. Several people look up, confused and unaware of what was happening, though still confident in their immediate safety as to pay the phenomenon no mind.
However, the samurai that had been following Gilgamesh saw events transpire as they had, and could only shake his head in bewilderment. ”How in the world does he get away with causing so much insanity? Anyone else, and the guards would have them rotting in a jail cell...” he asked himself, feeling halfway certain that he would never receive any meaningful answer, before he opted to chase after the pair of scavengers, while silently lamenting over the aches and sores he was sure to feel next morning.
It took Gilgamesh no effort at all to pinpoint the fleeing blue light among the festival decorations, and he definitely needed no extra assistance keeping up with it, even as the luminous edifice made sharp turns around the corners of buildings, dipped between alleys, and even flew through open windows trying to escape its pursuer.
”What novel sorcery!” the swordsman pondered aloud, hopping several rooftops in sequence without breaking stride, sneering with impish intent, ”And here I thought this was to be somewhat challenging!” Oh no. Anytime he ever took that tone of voice, it was never a good sign, for anybody. It meant that he was not satisfied with the course of events as they currently played out, and he was wanting to spice things up a little bit.
The fleeing ball of light ducked and weaved through the avenues of Torensten while Gilgamesh, eager to do something more physically useful than run in a straight line, began using the cross beams between buildings as makeshift steps, swiftly moving on to horizontal flag poles when those ran out, even using them to swing from one point to the next in some cases. As it rounded several corners, Gilgamesh would even use the very walls themselves as platforms, quickly moving back and forth between buildings with carefully timed hops until he could reach a solid floor and continue the chase again.
So long as he wasn't doing anything egregious, like flips and tumbles, Quistis would no doubt remain safe. Provided her grip was strong enough to withstand being carried along at such fast speeds, anyway...
It took approximately several minutes of free-running before Miss Trepe's enchantments began to gradually wear off, and by this point, the orb of cerulean light had darted straight up into the sky, briefly out of peripheral view, then streaked down toward what appeared to be an opulent glass conservatory surrounded by a menagerie of exotic flora that Gilgamesh had never seen before.
From what he could gather at a glance, this place looked like a garden, and deep inside the transparent structure sat the prize, advertising itself with a faint blue pulse.
”Hah! Piece of hedgehog pie!” said Gilgamesh proudly, spoonerizing the original adage with barbaric cruelty. ”Hang on tightly, Miss Trepe, this'll just take a second!” He crouched low once more, in the same manner he had done before this chaos had unfolded, then leaped high into the night sky with a triumphant cry that certainly made some people ask 'why?'
As he rapidly closed in on the earth below, the impulsive warrior rears his arm back only to thrust an open palm in front of him, conjuring a mighty blast of wind that would serve the effect of greatly diminishing their downward approach, allowing Gilgamesh to make full contact with the dirt as if he possessed feline grace.
”Hoo! That was fun! Good way to loosen the tendons up!” casually said Gilgamesh as he gyrated his arms in circles, still buzzing from the adrenaline of the chase. As he had been doing this entire night, several passersby caught notice of the idiot swordsman's spontaneous arrival and, paying mind to the woman at his side, began to feel somewhat concerned about the subtext behind all of this nonsense. Torensten really attracted the weirdos of the world, didn't it?
@blacksuit3 ● SHIT JUST GOT PRINCE OF PERSIA UP IN HERE ● 903 WORDS
[attr=class,text] Quistis braced herself the best she could. How well could one brace for the machinations of a mad man or how much attention he drew to himself with his crazy one-liners and a maddening laughter? She decided it was, indeed, best to close her eyes and tucked her head into her shoulder. Her neck craned uncomfortably, but it was better than possibly taking something to the face as he sped outrageously quick. And she was far too polite to excuse herself before the scavenger hunt event was done. [break][break] The wind rustled through her hair and at each of his hopping lunges, she barely felt the impact at each landing. It seemed he was quite skilled at the chase. At least, that was until he decided to venture into more adventurous moves. It was then she started to feel ill at his sudden change in patterns and zig-zags. She tried to cling tighter to him, as her grip seemed not quite enough on his scarf, which, in itself, miraculously stayed put. But her arms were not long enough to go around his thick neck piece. She had to give a solemn prayer to whatever deity out there would listen. [break][break] Just as her arms were finally weakening from exhaustion, he seemed to find their final destination. This was a terribly elaborate path. She ventured a peek when he came to a stop. There was a glass observatory and she couldn’t help but peer at it with great curiosity. She thought she knew Torensten well. She gasped at its splendor and breathed, “It’s beautiful.” [break][break] Her heart found its way back into her stomach as he did not slow his antics. Going up into the air wasn’t so bad. But as he let gravity take them, she suddenly felt like her stomach would give. In all her years in mercenary training, never had her stamina been put to such a test. As soon as they touched down, she stumbled from his arm and tried to regain her footing. She found her legs rubbery with the first few steps. “That was only a warm up?” What had she gotten herself into? She tried to regain her balance again as she looked about. “I can’t wait for our spar after this.” She was trying to salvage these crazy turn of events. [break][break] She shrugged at the passersbys, with that guilty look on her face like SHE did something wrong and had no good explanation for it. There was a moment of recovery, before she looked around once more. “So the butterfly came here? I suppose the next clue is about…” The path through the gardens here seemed straight forward, but there was no longer any sign of the butterfly. “I suppose we just pick a path then…” And she did, taking in the strange flora. Some seem even infused with magic itself and glowed in the moonlight.