Author's Notes:
Hey, thanks for reading this. It's an idea that's been popping around in my head for a while, and I hope it clashes well with everyone's thoughts on the subject. Which is, why is Gourry the definitive Jellyfish Brain? I hope to explain my view on it in this fic. Continuity wise, this fits in at the very end of Slayers: Next.
Also, word of warning. The way I write, thoughts and actions blend together. Sorry if this confuses anyone, but I think it's pretty well self-explanatory.
Oh, and for disclaimer purposes - NO, I don't own Slayers or anything related. It'd be a nice check to have at the end of every month, but, I don't own them.
- Brandon
Thinking
Gourry set by the small stream that the party had camped near, collecting his thoughts, or what were left of them after his recent shattering and rebuilding of them. His armor was off, laying strewn about his tent, but the hilt of the Sword of Light rested in his lap.
Where did my life go wrong? he wondered. Was it when I was a kid? When I got so used to everyone talking above my head, deciding things for their oh so special new Swordsman of Light? I got so used to it. Someone would feed me for who I was, and said I didn't need to worry about anything.
That would be it, he decided. He had believed them.
He had a brief thought back to when he was young. His parents hiring sword tutors to help him achieve his "destiny". The entire village nearly worshipping him because he was their claim to fame. His life hadn't been his own since he was born.
He hadn't been used to coping with problems early on in life. The only challenges set in his way were that of his most recent tutor, and the daily trials of honing both his sword and his swordsmanship.
He also hadn't been used to interacting with people his own age. Until one day. Gourry focused on the feeling of that day, and recalled the major memory associated with it. Gourry had been resting on a limb of a tall tree, sharpening the current blade that had been put into the hilt and cross guard that was the Sword of Light. Earlier that morning, his father had first shown him how to call for the power from the blade. Gourry had been able to tap it almost immediately, which lead to his father bragging over him to the villagers, who had acted as if he had slain a Mazoku.
A group of boys from the village had climbed up the tree, and had knocked the daydreaming Gourry out of the tree, and promptly tried to beat him into a pulp. Tried. Gourry still had his sword, and was able to defend himself without hurting anyone. But he wondered why these boys wished to cause him harm.
The question stuck in his head, and he had thought about it day and night until he had reached the conclusion.
He had everything.
Anything he wanted was given to him, anything he needed was provided.
It almost made him cry when he realized it. He didn't like how his life was, but, if they wanted it. . .
It was soon after he left, in effect, running away from home. He first went to the city of Sairagg, where that event with the demon . . . After that, he just traveled around, doing his own thing. He became a mercenary. The "how" was lost on him, but the "why" was obvious.
That's how he thought. Not in a complete thing, but keeping a memory of the most important aspect. The duel with Shabrinigdo. Not the reason they were fighting, or who Rezo was. But Lina's Giga Slave saving them.
Why was he traveling with Lina? He needed her. That brought up a tidal wave of emotions. That was the other thing he thought in. Fragments, and emotions. Also, physical things, like swords and sight. And touch and feel.
His thoughts lost cohesion again, shattering around him. That's how he envisioned his train of thought. It was so much easier to think that each thought was a piece of glass that fit onto another. It gave a physical sense to the unphysical, and helped with his comprehension of his own ideas. He picked up the pieces and began building from the last place he could remember.
I need Lina. Not for her to take care of me, but because it feels right. Even when I have no clue what's going on, she knows, and leads forward. I don't have to deal with what everyone thinks about me.
That piece had only one to fit with.
They think I'm a moron, he thought, and punched the ground.
Why? Because I don't stay focused, I don't worry about what's going on, I just accept it and go on. Damn it, though. It would help if they didn't put me down all the time.
He sighed, shaking his hand that stung from hitting the cold earth.
They think I'm so stupid, I don't bother to ask things. He sighed, putting a hand to his head. I only ask things when it seems important. And I forget to mention things when no one else sees them, because I think, if me, dumb old Gourry, realized it, they wouldn't.
Like when they were fighting that sorcerer who was immortal. He knew that he was immortal, just by looking at him. His too old mannerisms and too young body didn't mesh right, so Gourry had assumed that something odd was up. Maybe he's young forever, echoed through his head.
But he had to ask about the Pledge, and what immortal meant. He had thought "young forever" without thinking about "immortal". He laughed as the immortal "shard" of thought matched with the branch "shard."
"Hey, Gourry, what are you doing up so late?"
Gourry froze, thoughts shattering as Lina's voice echoed in his mind. He acted naturally, telling the truth. "I'm thinking."
"You're thinking?" The sorceress sat down beside him, looking at him. "About?"
"Stuff. You probably wouldn't be too interested." Knowing her, she'd laugh at him, and hit him for being such an idiot, or something. He wished she understood him better. Then maybe his "need" would make more sense. He still hadn't figured that out. Why did he need her . . . ?
The fragile structure shattered as Lina's voice popped back in. "Oh, right. Stuff, huh?" There was a sleepy tinge to her voice, Gourry realized, and as he looked at her, he noticed she didn't have her cape, dagger, or shoulder pads. Or any of those talisman thingies. Her hair was also crumbled, as if she'd been asleep.
She yawned, and started to lean over. "Hey, Lina . . ." He reached out to catch her as she fell, and he realized she was asleep.
All their late night discussions ended with someone falling asleep, Gourry realized with a slight smile. Gently lifting the girl, putting the Sword of Light into one pocket and carrying her to her tent, he put her down on her bed and left, returning to his place by the stream. He took out the Sword, and studied it's familiar surface. Lina seemed to use it as an excuse to travel with him. Maybe that's all she cared about when it came to him.
A slight realization hit him. Lina had cared what he was thinking about, at least enough to ask.
Maybe, tomorrow night, before one of them fell asleep, he'd tell her what he had been thinking about. If he remembered.
With a shrug of uncertainty, Gourry fell asleep.
Hey, thanks for reading this. It's an idea that's been popping around in my head for a while, and I hope it clashes well with everyone's thoughts on the subject. Which is, why is Gourry the definitive Jellyfish Brain? I hope to explain my view on it in this fic. Continuity wise, this fits in at the very end of Slayers: Next.
Also, word of warning. The way I write, thoughts and actions blend together. Sorry if this confuses anyone, but I think it's pretty well self-explanatory.
Oh, and for disclaimer purposes - NO, I don't own Slayers or anything related. It'd be a nice check to have at the end of every month, but, I don't own them.
- Brandon
Thinking
Gourry set by the small stream that the party had camped near, collecting his thoughts, or what were left of them after his recent shattering and rebuilding of them. His armor was off, laying strewn about his tent, but the hilt of the Sword of Light rested in his lap.
Where did my life go wrong? he wondered. Was it when I was a kid? When I got so used to everyone talking above my head, deciding things for their oh so special new Swordsman of Light? I got so used to it. Someone would feed me for who I was, and said I didn't need to worry about anything.
That would be it, he decided. He had believed them.
He had a brief thought back to when he was young. His parents hiring sword tutors to help him achieve his "destiny". The entire village nearly worshipping him because he was their claim to fame. His life hadn't been his own since he was born.
He hadn't been used to coping with problems early on in life. The only challenges set in his way were that of his most recent tutor, and the daily trials of honing both his sword and his swordsmanship.
He also hadn't been used to interacting with people his own age. Until one day. Gourry focused on the feeling of that day, and recalled the major memory associated with it. Gourry had been resting on a limb of a tall tree, sharpening the current blade that had been put into the hilt and cross guard that was the Sword of Light. Earlier that morning, his father had first shown him how to call for the power from the blade. Gourry had been able to tap it almost immediately, which lead to his father bragging over him to the villagers, who had acted as if he had slain a Mazoku.
A group of boys from the village had climbed up the tree, and had knocked the daydreaming Gourry out of the tree, and promptly tried to beat him into a pulp. Tried. Gourry still had his sword, and was able to defend himself without hurting anyone. But he wondered why these boys wished to cause him harm.
The question stuck in his head, and he had thought about it day and night until he had reached the conclusion.
He had everything.
Anything he wanted was given to him, anything he needed was provided.
It almost made him cry when he realized it. He didn't like how his life was, but, if they wanted it. . .
It was soon after he left, in effect, running away from home. He first went to the city of Sairagg, where that event with the demon . . . After that, he just traveled around, doing his own thing. He became a mercenary. The "how" was lost on him, but the "why" was obvious.
That's how he thought. Not in a complete thing, but keeping a memory of the most important aspect. The duel with Shabrinigdo. Not the reason they were fighting, or who Rezo was. But Lina's Giga Slave saving them.
Why was he traveling with Lina? He needed her. That brought up a tidal wave of emotions. That was the other thing he thought in. Fragments, and emotions. Also, physical things, like swords and sight. And touch and feel.
His thoughts lost cohesion again, shattering around him. That's how he envisioned his train of thought. It was so much easier to think that each thought was a piece of glass that fit onto another. It gave a physical sense to the unphysical, and helped with his comprehension of his own ideas. He picked up the pieces and began building from the last place he could remember.
I need Lina. Not for her to take care of me, but because it feels right. Even when I have no clue what's going on, she knows, and leads forward. I don't have to deal with what everyone thinks about me.
That piece had only one to fit with.
They think I'm a moron, he thought, and punched the ground.
Why? Because I don't stay focused, I don't worry about what's going on, I just accept it and go on. Damn it, though. It would help if they didn't put me down all the time.
He sighed, shaking his hand that stung from hitting the cold earth.
They think I'm so stupid, I don't bother to ask things. He sighed, putting a hand to his head. I only ask things when it seems important. And I forget to mention things when no one else sees them, because I think, if me, dumb old Gourry, realized it, they wouldn't.
Like when they were fighting that sorcerer who was immortal. He knew that he was immortal, just by looking at him. His too old mannerisms and too young body didn't mesh right, so Gourry had assumed that something odd was up. Maybe he's young forever, echoed through his head.
But he had to ask about the Pledge, and what immortal meant. He had thought "young forever" without thinking about "immortal". He laughed as the immortal "shard" of thought matched with the branch "shard."
"Hey, Gourry, what are you doing up so late?"
Gourry froze, thoughts shattering as Lina's voice echoed in his mind. He acted naturally, telling the truth. "I'm thinking."
"You're thinking?" The sorceress sat down beside him, looking at him. "About?"
"Stuff. You probably wouldn't be too interested." Knowing her, she'd laugh at him, and hit him for being such an idiot, or something. He wished she understood him better. Then maybe his "need" would make more sense. He still hadn't figured that out. Why did he need her . . . ?
The fragile structure shattered as Lina's voice popped back in. "Oh, right. Stuff, huh?" There was a sleepy tinge to her voice, Gourry realized, and as he looked at her, he noticed she didn't have her cape, dagger, or shoulder pads. Or any of those talisman thingies. Her hair was also crumbled, as if she'd been asleep.
She yawned, and started to lean over. "Hey, Lina . . ." He reached out to catch her as she fell, and he realized she was asleep.
All their late night discussions ended with someone falling asleep, Gourry realized with a slight smile. Gently lifting the girl, putting the Sword of Light into one pocket and carrying her to her tent, he put her down on her bed and left, returning to his place by the stream. He took out the Sword, and studied it's familiar surface. Lina seemed to use it as an excuse to travel with him. Maybe that's all she cared about when it came to him.
A slight realization hit him. Lina had cared what he was thinking about, at least enough to ask.
Maybe, tomorrow night, before one of them fell asleep, he'd tell her what he had been thinking about. If he remembered.
With a shrug of uncertainty, Gourry fell asleep.