Re: Oval Eyes (Grave)
Grave rolled on the ground before he stood up, panting. That last blow hurt, but not as much as her words. He had to admit that the spider had a point. Unlike him, she had a drive - a motivation to strive and keep trying, in spite of the danger. It was a humiliating realization - even wild monsters had something he couldn't grasp. Still, his rant wasn't a complete waste of breath. It's been a long time since he began to hide his feelings deep within himself. If he were to improve himself, Cynder had to face his own weaknesses.
Grave could feel a chaotic storm of emotions within him. Hatred, fear, sadness, helplessness... This whole scene reminded him of something - a scene so familiar, yet so hard to remember... Ah, that's right! It was not one scene that he remembered - what he was remembering were all these moments when someone else was humiliating him, berating and insulting the young half-blood, who wasn't even aware of his own origin. People constantly kept causing him pain... Why was he even coming back? Why was he trying to find his place among them?
Cynder's thoughts slowly turned towards his mentor. The old man was one of the few who accepted him, even though his "son" tended to be hard to bear sometimes. When he died, Grave felt as if his world was crumbling. Alone, with no one to comfort him, he set off, trying to get away from those who hated him... Or so he kept thinking. If he wanted to get away from humans, why didn't he hide somewhere in a forest?
Cynder shook his head and tried to focus on the fight. He had to win and get out of here. But then he'd have to deal with Roy and Cynthia, who were waiting outside for him. They probably thought that he was useless. Why did they even bother to wait? What were they trying to accomplish by waiting for him? Assuming there really was something they wanted...
Grave paused, suprised by his own thought for a moment. If the pair really waited for him, this meant that they expected him to win... Furthermore, they considered him important enough not to leave him on his own... Was it possible that they really saw worth in him? That's stupid, the only person who could see anything useful in a wreck like Cynder would have to be dense, like Club - a bratty, annoying half-pint. Bratty, annoying half-pint who actually tried to comfort him. When was the last time a stranger he met was so friendly?
Grave tried to keep his emotions contained. This was futile - he could feel tears running down his cheeks. He took a deep breath, then stared into his opponent's eyes. Slowly, Cynder began to realize something he never admitted to himself - the one thing he desired so much. Five years ago, his situation was hopeless and it remained like that for long enough. But now, this could change... If he just took this chance, he would be able to do this... But Grave wasn't sure. Would he really succeed? On the other hand, death would probably be better than living like this. At least Cynder would have less to worry about.
Grave prepared himself for another clash. He was starting to feel angry again - not consumed by hate and despair, like moments ago, but simply angry at the arachne. She looked down on him - not without reason, that's for sure. But it still was something Cynder did not intend to tolerate. He couldn't change her, but that didn't matter. His mother hoped he'd grow strong enough to reach her standards - it was time to actually start trying. Grave began to focus again, preparing for another charge, before dashing forward to meet his opponent. The plan was simple - a high feint followed by a stab to the guts. Later, he'd just wing it. As he ran, thoughts echoed in his head. His desire. His purpose.
'I don't want to be alone. Not anymore. Even if it's just one person, I want to be with someone. I can't stop here.'