Post by Deleted on Jun 22, 2014 20:12:57 GMT -6
SPARKS ARE FLYING, BUT MY SPIRIT WILL NOT BREAK OR EVEN BEND.
It choked him. The air around him choked him. A lone man caked in blood amongst sliced up corpses stood defiantly. Covered in wounds, it mattered not. As long as he could feel the weight of his sword and the weapon biting down upon the flesh of his opponent was all that proof he needed that he was still alive. His eyes looked down upon the victims that he had slain, butchered and gutted like pigs. The man had already grown quite stoic and indifferent towards deaths around him – after all, he was no more than a mad dog that always bit the hands that fed him. “Heh…” A fitting name for someone like him killing human beings left and right with no clear goal or cause just for a wad of dirty cash that was about as comparable to the sex whores that the fat, rich men bought from the downtown of Aquavia. The only thing that remained true to him was his sword, his techniques and his instinct to live, but what did he live for? Who did he live for? For the longest time, ever since he grabbed a hold of a sword, the man asked that same question over and over. Slowly, his tired and murky eyes wondered on over to the blood-stained crimson sword in his hand. The man didn’t even bother cleaning up his blade and lazily placed the weapon back into its scabbard as he wondered on over towards the massive concrete pillar that stood like a tombstone in the middle of the killing field. There, he sat, his back leaned against the wall and the silver light of the moon basking him in her glory to reveal his rugged face covered in scars from previous battles. The man tossed his weapon off to the side and looked up to the midnight skies, whistling a tune even as the crimson air choked the swordsman to his very core. That was all he could ever do, to simply sing a tune and smile, just like Lugh. He even went out singing, telling the boy to be happy. Now that he thought about it, he recalled a certain man who looked just like Lugh during one of his many tasks. He was nameless, self-assured, but a bit of a know-it-all, nonetheless, the man couldn’t find himself getting angry at him. Now that he thought about it, what he had said was right. On that certain summer day when golden rays battered down upon him mercilessly. A hot sunlight battered down on Felix with its scorching rays from the window. It just happened to be one of those days when working conditions were not as ideal as it seemed, but thanks to his suit’s systems, it kept him cool… for most parts. The swordsman stood at guard, his back lazily leaned against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. His ochre eyes seemed to aimlessly look down the narrow hallway that looked as if it lead on forever and to nowhere. Being in tight space like this choked the living air out of him. To his side, an armored figured walked up to the swordsman’s side, offering him a cool bottle of drink. “Oh? What made you bring me a drink~?” The swordsman asked, “I didn’t take you for a type who’d share things with strangers~.” “Ehh, don’t get me wrong. I just happened to have an extra. Here, take it, it’s the last one.” The armored figure spoke, “I think you’ll like the taste.” With a shrug, the swordsman graciously took the bottled drink and had swig of it to quench his dry throat. It was sweet, despite the tangy feel to it, the male found himself drinking more and more of it until the bottle was empty to its last drop before he let out a satisfied sigh. “Whew, that hit the spot. Thanks, big guy~.” “Hey, Felix.” “Hm?” “Do you... even care?” The strange question made Felix raise an eyebrow at the bigger man next to him. “About what?” “About yourself, I mean. When I see you fight, it almost seems as if… you have nothing to lose. You fight like a mad dog, it’s kind of scary.” The man replied, “You lost something precious, didn’t you?” “Hey….” Felix chuckled, “Now that doesn’t make any sense my friend. If I were you, I’d pick my words carefully. Just because you gave me something to drink doesn’t give you the right to say shit like that. My techniques are my own, that’s how it is. I’m interested in putting food on my table, and yet I don’t give a damn about myself? Now that’s a strange idea you’ve got....” The bigger man huffed and smiled in response, “I know, I sound like a bit of a dolt don’t I?” “You’re a one fuckin’ comedian, more like.” “But am I wrong?” The next question made Felix pause. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself unable to do so. “I’ve heard about you, you know. Someone like you in this world aren’t gone unspoken within the underworld. Hell, what kind of a person kills and burns down an entire company that offered them a high standing position among them? You’re a complete lunatic, but to me it almost seems as if your own future doesn’t matter to you… and at the same time, it almost seems like you’re desperately looking for something that you’ve lost.” “Like what?” “I know it’s weird, but who are you, really?” Felix let out his usual laughter. “Who am I? Now that’s a strange question. You already know my name, there is no need to ask.” “No, I’ll ask again, who are you?” The swordsman’s laughter ceased gradually. Felix already knew what the man was asking. This guy’s perception pissed him off. The mercenary didn’t exactly show it or spoke out against it as he normally would have, so instead, he found himself listening to the burly comrade that stood by him. “What made you disappeared long ago, didn’t it? But something is keeping you together… a purpose, maybe? You are looking for that one thing that you know you will never find, but you just keep going like a machine no matter how hurt you are.” “And you should stop being at a job like this and be one of those big time doctors on the shows that people watch. This job isn’t for a big guy like you, you know.” The man simply laughed in return, “I’m only saying shit that I’ve watched on television, but if what I say is right, then you are really messed up in the head and who you are is in complete shambles. Still, you just push yourself towards that one thing. You’re crazy, but at the same time, you really aren’t.” Felix huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, “Woooow, and here I was standing here impressed by what you said! Yeesh, and here you go spouting off shit like what Dr. Thil says in his night shows,. Hell, he’s not even a real doctor….” “But that means I’m right, huh? Then what is it? That… one thing you are looking for.” He was right, Felix truly only had one purpose. That was all he had left. Everything about him, what made the warrior Felix Mercer was just like a shattered blade – no longer could be forged or salvaged. However, he knew what truly broke him in the first place. Himself. Felix broke who he was. He even rejected his own Knighthood out of fear of being used as a tool for someone. On that day when he left he abandoned everything – even the ones who loved him out his own foolishness. Now that he thought about it, he did have a place that he belonged, once…. With Etro and Story. Ironic how he never realized it until he truly lost everything. It was there all along, and the woman that the girl that he loved from the bottom of his heart. He remembered himself writing to her since the day that he had left, even if she didn’t reply to any of his letters, he kept sending them to her in hopes that she would eventually read one of it. “That is…..” The swordsman slowly rose up to his feet. He could feel every fiber of his muscles burning and being on the verge of breaking down – no, he could feel his entire body breaking down, but he was still alive. Felix could still feel the weight of his sword, he could still grab it. That’s what mattered, it was the proof that he was still alive. Even if his body was tired, he desired to go back to that place. In Etro’s arms. So trudged on through the battlefield, stumbling upon corpse after corpse, struggling not to lose his balance even as his suit gave out most of its functions. “Etro....” | TAGS @nobody NOTES A drabble thread |
Made by Siren of GS