#gildedust

[fidelii]

"if we can live through this," gildarts said, just a few moments before the crowds would be able to see them. it was soft, but firm. the winner mattered, of course, but they'd all come too far to be disappointed with a loss. "we can do anything." // harry potter.

she turned her head, coal eyes gleaming. her teachers might have implied that the  supposed  goal of the tournament  ( to create bonds with other schools )  did not matter as much as a victory for durmstrang, but ur had found --- with some amusement --- that she had indeed found friends in her competition. this was, perhaps, why she was relatively relaxed; there was no outcome to this  ( aside from someone dying )  that she would  truly  mind. she was closer to gildarts than she was to the beauxbatons champion, but she liked andrée, too.

and gildarts was right, probably. how many other witches and wizards could claim they had seen what they had seen? one school would celebrate their champion later tonight and enjoy a night of pride and revelry, but this champion would inevitably be changed. the challenges that were behind them, the challenges they had overcome already --- they had forged a bond. she did not know what expected either of them after graduation, something that was closer for the other champions than it was for her, but she was confident that they would meet again.

a small hand, covered in fingerless gloves, reached for his wrist and for andrée's, too. “ no matter what the outcome will be, ” she said softly, warmly, “ it's been an honour. ”

and it had been, truly. it was what her fellow students would not understand, that the honour had not just been to compete for their school but also to compete against two talented and dedicated young wizards who had given their best, just like she had given hers. it had been an honour to fight fairly and to be fought fairly, too. before it had started, before she had gotten to know her 'rivals', she had worried. she had not know them, she had not known how far they were willed to go for their schools. but despite what some historical accounts had been like, their tournament had been what a tournament was supposed to be: something that was, in the end,  fun.

( well, if one could look past the life-endangering situations they had been in. ur could. )

[fidelii]

❛ please practice blinking as others can be unsettled by your inhuman ability to maintain an unbreakable stare during casual conversation. ❜ // neighborhood

it was too late or maybe too early. ur was not sure, time could be such an odd thing. what she was certain of was that gildarts was being overly dramatic.  again.  the time he had held up cana as if she was simba was unforgotten, especially since she did not think that silver would let him live it down anytime soon. they were, confusing as this might be for some people, friends. and friends did not let friends forget some of their most theatrical moments.

tugging on the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders  ( because in the middle of the night, even she felt sometimes a little chilly ),  she shrugged. gildarts was not the first to have complained that sometimes, it was creepy when she did not seem to blink. only the other week, erida who lived a few houses down the street had pointed out the very same thing when they had been elbow deep in glitter to craft a birthday present for the not-so-sweet elderly lady who was part of their book club. apparently, erida was used to many things but ur’s apparent inability to blink as much as others was throwing her off more than the selfies her cousin kept sending her that all showed the guy in life-endangering situations.

“ i hear your concern, ” she said — sagely, holding back a face-splitting grin, “ but just imagine poor cana walking in on me standing in front of the mirror, practicing to blink. they are used to this, i think. so please, gil,  think of the children. ”

[reivun]

"ah," gildarts said, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck when he noticed what Ivan was staring at. there was a time when gildarts would have gleefully embellished the story as he recalled it to ivan, dramatized the scene. but that time had passed & one arm torn off later all he could manage to say was, "Yeah, if you're ever inclined to fight a dragon, I'm mostly-solid proof of why you shouldn't."

the first instinct was an old one, one that was there for so long it was HARDER to squish down and pretend nothing was there. it was plain annoyance. “and you were too much of an idiot to not take advantage of my mother’s healing prowess?” ivan said with a raised brow.

he regretted it IMMEDIATELY because instead of sounding annoyed that gildarts was alive, it sounded like he cared. it was a cruel call back to to the past and one thing ivan would rather leave behind (like a grave). he turned his back on the other and held out his left arm. “it seems some things never change, clive because when i lost my arm.” through a series of events that honestly, he should have seen coming. “i took advantage and now i’m good as new. but then, i am smarter than you.”

his heart was pounding and he was annoyed with himself. mostly because of his first instinct was to stare and wonder. gildarts was always reckless and he always needed someone to push him to get help. but it was no longer ivan’s job. he buried that instinct down and hated hated hated how easily it was brought back. just because they were being mutually taken advantaged of by makarov did not make them buddy-buddy. it could never return to the past and that was something ivan had no interest in. That Mission ruined it all. it ruined ivan’s life and there was something(one) lost to oblivion in the outcome. 

but seriously gildarts, how are you not dead?

“and besides, we both know i only have one true goal. dragons and dark mages are not on that list for me.”