#being zelgadis is suffering

[bitter-byte]

Behold, the ultimate Geodude form

[yamiartstash]

Zelgadis Riding and Failing on a Skimmer

Kinda inspired by the Slayers Discord server where peeps were talking about what vehicles he would ride and I figured he would go for a skimmer (cuz they're awesome). However, I don't think he would have the necessary motor skills to operate one. Or at least where he could look cool without hurting himself.

[yami268]

Zelgadis vs the Beach Theme: Vacation Format: Short Story Rating/Warnings: K+ Words: 833 Other: Zelgadis tries to relax. Unfortunately, Amelia finds him in a dire situation

Zelgadis stretched out his arms as he laid underneath an umbrella. Watching the gentle waves roll across the shoreline, he couldn't help but find himself in a state of bliss. Between dungeon diving, finding relics, and beating up rogues, it certainly had been some time since he last took a break. So, he couldn’t help but accept Amelia's offer to go with her on vacation. Especially since they were staying at a high-class resort on a renowned beach.

As he nestled himself into the large blanket sprawled on the sand, he heard the voice of Amelia calling out to him. He looked over, seeing her run towards him. Unlike the short-sleeved shirt and swim boxers he had on, she had a pink and white two-piece with a ruffled top. It fitted her well, especially with her body type. Stopping by the side of him, she looked down and asked, “Are you alright, mister Zelgadis?”

“Yea,” he replied, “Just letting myself rest.”

“Oh, okay then.” She smiled, placing her hands behind her. She then leaned over, raising an eyebrow. “Would you like some sunscreen? It will help with not getting sunburns.”

“I’m good. I have rock skin, remember?” He stretched again, trying to get comfortable.

Tilting her head, she said, “Oh yea… But still, the sun could harm you in some other way, right? Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I’m sure. Now, why don’t you run off and do your own thing?” Zelgadis then turned to his side, placing his arm over his head. Amelia gave him one last glance before heading off. With that, he went back to tranquil rest, letting the sun’s rays warm him up.

After a while, Amelia was heading back to check on him. She was still a bit worried about him being in the sun. While he may not have been prone to sunburn, there were probably other serious side effects. On the other hand, Zelgadis knew his body better than anyone. Maybe he would be okay after all. Yet when she came back, she was surprised to see a bunch of lizardmen lying there.

“Mister Zelgadis!” she gasped as she rushed over, shooing the lizardmen off. After they left in a grumble, she looked down at him. He looked very ill with his eyes half-open. She placed a hand on his head only to retract it back when it got burnt. He was hot, like an unreasonably amount of hot. That’s when she realized that he was suffering from heatstroke.

Without any time to waste, Amelia picked him up by his clothes and carried him off. Then, she threw him into the ocean with all her strength. He landed pretty far from the shoreline, floating on the cool waves. She felt relieved for a second until she saw him starting to sink. She had forgotten that he was heavy.

She jumped in and swam beneath the water’s surface. As fast as she could, she managed to catch up to where Zelgadis was now. This time, she found him in a three-way tug-of-war between a shark, a sea serpent, and a siren. She hightailed over to the battle, fending the monsters off with her fists. They left the two after a harsh beating. Then, she grabbed him again and started to drag him back up.

Slowly, but surely, she popped out of the ocean water with him. She soon started to swim back, holding him close. But seeing the water suddenly dip down, she looked back and noticed the tidal wave right behind her. She started to swim faster, only for it to catch them in its currents.

Afterward, the two finally washed onto the beach, dazed by the whole experience. Zelgadis managed to wake up after a while, groaning in the process. He glanced down at his aching body, noticing that Amelia was on top of him. Seeing her on him in a cute manner made his face blush. Shortly after, she too started to wake up, looking to see him in a shade of bright red.

“Oh no, mister Zelgadis! You’re still hot!” she exclaimed as she picked herself up, “Don’t worry! I’ll cool you off with some freeze arrows!”

Frantically, he waved his hands as she was casting. “It’s fine, Amelia! I’m not that hot anymore.” She leaned towards him, narrowing her vision. Seeing that he was alright, she stopped her spell before letting out a sigh.

Zelgadis sighed as well, getting up and stretching himself out. “You know, I think I had enough relaxation for now. Do you want to head back?”

“Oh yes.” Amelia nodded as the two started to walk back to their living quarters. After a while, she said, “Maybe we should get you a bigger umbrella to sleep under, so you won’t get overheated.”

“Maybe…” he murmured. “Some ice blocks would be nice as well.”

“I can make some for you.”

“Thanks.”

And so, they had a much more pleasant time for the rest of their stay.

[the-bar-sinister]

Zelgadis later in life thinking about when he was turned into a chimera and feeling like maybe he didn't have a good reason to feel quiet as betrayed as he did at the time.

Zelgadis thinking about how it was his choice, and his desire to become stronger, and not something Rezo pushed on or suggested to him.

Zelgadis thinking about how no, Rezo didn't tell him enough, but he also didn't ask any questions when he should have. Thinking about how he was raised by and taught magic from Rezo and should have known that power doesn't come out of nowhere.

Zelgadis thinking about how at the time that it happened, Rezo was suffering from the magical equivalent of severe mental illness, and not being quite as able to hold his actions against him as he once did.

Zelgadis healing and moving on from his anger and hurt.

[goodbyenorthernlights]

Hunting for Rezo Content has occasionally lead to me skimming through Xelzel fics, and it's sort of interesting the like. Dynamics people come up with? Most of which involve heavily whumping Zel.

One dynamic that I find straight up kind of funny though is when the fic has Xellos being internally :\ or >:c at Rezo for Mistreating Zelgadis. Like I think these writers are generally aware of the irony of this, I just still find it funny.

Xellos and Rezo are also generally depicted as not getting along, I've noticed (they certainly don't in their brief interaction in EVO-R) and there's a part of me that wants a like.

Xelzel fic with none of the noncon stuff that seems to show up a lot, Xellos and Zelgadis are in a relationship of some sort that, while a terrible idea, is at least a consensual undertaking.

Rezo is somehow alive in this fic, it's not important how, idc, the really important part here is that he's here, and he Does Not Approve of the Xelzel relationship because he rightfully thinks that Xellos is a ratfucking bastard and is (reasonably) doubtful that he has good intentions towards Zelgadis.

Unfortunately for Rezo, he is also aware he doesn't have a leg to stand on if he tries to say or do anything, what with him being the Asshole Who Ruined Zel's Life(TM)

Meanwhile, Xellos also Does Not Approve of Rezo being around and in Zelgadis's life because he rightfully thinks that Rezo is a ratfucking bastard and is (reasonably) doubtful that he has good intentions towards Zelgadis.

Unfortunately for Xellos, he is also aware he doesn't have a leg to stand on if he tries to say or do anything, what with him being a Heartless Monster Who Feeds Off Suffering And Serves Satan(TM)

Meanwhile, Zelgadis needs a fucking drink.

[flameofchaos]

Whispers in the Dark - The Slayers Fanfic

A word or two from me: 

the main ship: Xellos x Lina Inverse . Necessary warnings will be included in the beginning of every chapter.

Special thanks for @naiokiara for being my Beta <3 and @wicked-game-black-butler for being my spiritual support <3

Prelude

Somewhere in the Beginning of Ages.

The Darkness moved in the astral dimension, forming, gathering and… slowly splitting. The Greater Beast Zelas Metallium, one of five the most powerful subordinates of the Dark Lord Shabranigdo was already tired, but her efforts weren't over yet. 

The Sea of Chaos had created them, Mazoku, and Zelas could only follow the need The Lord of Nightmares filled them up with: destruction. 

The material world existed, giving them pain, annoying, burning their astral beings. It had to be destroyed. It had to be changed into ashes all together with the Mazoku, and melted back to the Sea of Chaos. They needed more Monsters to achieve that. The World was huge. 

The Five Lords of Shabranigdo instinctively understood what to do. Four of them created each two cruel children: a General who would lead their army of darkness and a Priest who would lead mortals to their doom. 

Zelas Metallium had another idea. Why divide your own power so much, when you can create one perfect servant? A General and Priest at once, her only and the most perfect child.

The Darkness moved again like a snake around the smaller, weaker one. The part of her. The arm with which she was going to crush the world.

Wake up, my Xellos. Wake up and spread destruction for me, so we can be one again and return to the Mother of Chaos. We have to die and the World will die with us.

The smaller blackness was twirling faster and faster, taking the form of a tornado created from evil astral power.

His first form, but not his last. 

Xellos took his first “breath” and his newborn, still fragile mind was filled with the first feelings: hatred and frustration.

 He shouldn’t exist. He wanted to die at the moment he became alive. The newborn Mazoku trembled in suffering, his thoughts clinging more to his “mother”, not wanting to divide from her. Zelas showed him a vision of the World: living creatures there, their aim, and… she left him alone.

The twirling dark tornado scowled in the emptiness of the astral dimension.

Chapter 1

Present time. The Outer Lands after Hellmaster Phibrizzo's death.

The sorceress reached for another plate filled with a tasty-smelling meal, practically taking it from right under the nose of her comrade, a swordmaster, which caused his growl of disappointment. The gingerhead witch answered with her own look, full of lighting as a threat. 

What could she do? The fried shrimp in pasta at this inn was delicious. She wasn’t going to share it with anyone. Not even Gourry.

The last few days had been complicated and the plot twists of unplanned (or more or less planned by their new “friend” Filia ul Copt, the Priestess of Light) accidents led them into those lands outside the Barrier, where almost no one knew real magic, and had mixed them, adventurers, into a prophecy about the end of the world.

Again, others expected Lina to be a hero.

No vacation for me from dealing with Monsters, she thought, a little tired, but happy that on their way to the Flare Dragon King’s Temple, they had found such a cosy place to eat and rest tonight.

Zelgadis was resting on the other chair, drowned into a book he’d found in the library. He was always focused on his search for a cure for the curse of his chimeric appearance. Amelia also was somewhere near, probably teaching simple people about justice and law.

It was so comfortable at the inn now. Even a bard was performing, telling about legends and heroes. Lina was listening with one ear, though. Often she had opportunities to look at “legends” from definitely too close for her taste, and she knew too well that being a hero was overrated. 

Tasty food and cosy beds were the only things that could reward Lina’s suffering.

“We shouldn’t stay here,” complained Filia, approaching their table. “The night is bright. We can continue our journey! The prophecy clearly said! We will be doomed soon!”

Lina Inverse gave the blonde woman a rather gloomy look, chewing shrimp. The priestess and her notions for a mission. For sure it was Filia’s first time rescuing the world.

“I fully understand it and  -- Don't touch this fillet, Gourry! It's mine! --  and I respect your sacred role, but… Filia… You are a golden dragon. We are just mortals. We are tired! How can we defeat all the evil the prophecy will throw at us if we are so exhausted?”

“One night here won’t change anything,” interrupted a familiar male voice. The adventurers turned their heads to see a man in a black travelling priest outfit sitting at the nearest table. Dark straight hair hanging a little below jaw level, in the light of the fireplace, seemed to shine with a violet tint, and characteristically half-closed eyes alarmed the group more than a bucket of cold water poured on their heads, because they were the only ones in the inn who knew that those eyelids were covering reptilian vertical pupils. “Better stay here and have some fun. And hush!!! Listen to this story. It’s a good one!"

Lina raised her eyebrows, focusing her attention on the bard's tale. It was about a girl who fell in love with a Mazoku who wanted her dead, but in the end the pure soul of the maiden had won and the evil creature loved her too, abandoning his dark paths.

“Oh my. I will cry.” The violet-haired priest rubbed his eyes in a gesture of being touched and clapped his hands. “Beautiful story!”

“But Mazoku can’t love, Xellos,” noted Gourry brilliantly, blinking in confusion.

“Oh, don’t ruin a great tale with facts, my friend. I adore fairytales. And tea. Mortals’ inventions never cease to amaze me.” The man sighed in delight and took a tiny sip from the cup.  “Anyway, hello! <3” An innocent smile brightened his sympathetic face, which made mortals treat him like one of themselves. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, YOU STINKY GARBAGE?” Filia finally recovered from the shock caused by the sudden appearance of a high-ranking Mazoku in the inn. Like always, her allergy to the greatest enemy of her race was stronger than anything.

“Oh my. Are you deaf? I’m greeting everyone. You too, my sweet Miss Filia.” Xellos’ smile became wider when he directed his next statement to the bard: “Please! Tell us another FAIRYTALE. Maybe now about the good manners of golden dragons of light?” 

Filia’s face became grey, then blue and finally red, when she realised that their group was  the center of attention for all the people gathered at the inn. The blonde priestess grunted, trying to calm down and not give that pathetic Monster a chance to humiliate her more. The dragon girl smiled politely at the violet-haired man and Lina thought that the priestess’ delicate face would crack into pieces from that forced expression at any moment.

“Oh, Xellos, what a… surprise! So nice to...ekhm... see you!” mumbled Filia.

“The feeling is mutual.” The Monster opened his eyes a little more to fix the pissed dragon lady with his mean amethyst irises.

“How is your... health?”

“Good, I can’t complain, thank you very much!” Exclaimed Xellos happily, his voice sweet like a poisoned chocolate.

Lina rubbed her temples. She had to part those two or soon the town would stand in flames. Like always.

Filia clenched her jaw and sat next to the sorceress as people in the inn returned again to their own business. Her beautiful blue eyes met Lina’s with a clear, angry message: Do something with him.

It wasn’t easy, though. Xellos' presence was a funny problem. Has anyone ever seen a chicken getting a hawk to just go away if it doesn’t want to? Chickens should sit quietly and pray that a hunter isn’t hungry. At least not at the moment. 

So the group should be happy that Xellos (for whatever reasons he has this time) was in a chatting and not killing mood, and Lina was very aware of it, praying that fate wouldn’t ever have them cross paths as strict enemies. Well, officially, they were. Mazoku desired to destroy the world. Humans desired to survive. But who says that they have to jump unprovoked at each other's throats? Especially when Xellos seemed to not be very friendly towards Valgaav. The former servant of Gaav was very thirsty for Lina's blood, as he wanted to avenge his master’s death.

As the saying goes: the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Lina preferred to keep Xellos on her side, even if the alliance was fragile and temporary.

However, she could understand Filia’s feelings. Zelas Metallium's Priest had had a very significant role during the War of Monster’s Fall, more than a thousand years ago. Xellos murdered hundreds of golden dragons with just a wave of one finger. Maybe Filia was too young to remember that, but her superiors for sure described the massacre to her with details. 

In her place Lina also wouldn’t be very fond of this particular Monster.

“Can I kindly ask you to leave us alone?” Tried again the Dragon Priestess, still with that fake politeness. “I’m reminding you again: I found Miss Lina first and she will help me to rescue the world!”

“And I’m asking again too: Do you really want to quarrel with me about who, you or me, has the most right to use Miss Lina for their own goals?” Xellos took another sip of tea.

“Hey, you both know I am here and I’m hearing you two, right?” The gingerhead sorceress slowly lost her patience. “What do you want, Xellos? Tell us and go away.”

“And should I abandon such a charming dragon lady’s company?” 

Now Lina could literally feel and share Filia’s need to wash that insolent smile off the Mazoku’s face with a fist.

“Maybe I’m just guarding you from another nasty trick of Valgaav’s? You want me around, Miss Lina.” He opened one reptilian eye to measure the sorceress.

The girl wanted to stand up and scream at him. Mostly because he was right. Xellos always found ways to trick them but it was much harder to trick him. It’s not that the Monster could read Lina’s thoughts, but like every Mazoku, he was an empath. The sorceress could almost feel his astral aura licking her emotions. Besides, maybe in his human form Xellos looked harmless, and sometimes he acted like a total dumbass to confuse people, but a fool was the last thing Lina would think him to be. 

In this situation where Valgaav was hunting on Lina, and Xellos was hunting on Valgaav, it was clear that the Monster wanted to talk about the alliance in detail. Well, maybe not in Filia's company.

Lina nodded without a word, agreeing to his unspoken invitation to the “negotiation table”, and the Monster Priest closed his eyes again, finishing his tea and standing up.

“Well, you’re right. We can’t stress our dear Filia so much. She could get wrinkles because of anger. See you soon then.”

“You little shi-” The blonde was ready to jump on her enemy's head, but Gourry quickly covered her mouth, reminding her that as a Servant of Light she should have more control about filthy words.

Lina blinked and then gave a shrug when she couldn't find Xellos. He had vanished as suddenly as he had appeared, so the sorceress opened the menu to order a dessert. Who knew how the rest of the evening would go, so something sweet should reward her with a cool shiver travelling down her spine, even as she thought about what she had agreed.

A lady shouldn't let a man into her room in the middle of night. Especially when that man is the essence of evil.

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: Coagulate

Relationship: Zelgadis Greywords & Xellos

Characters: Xellos, Zelgadis Greywords

Tags: Pre-Slash, Nudity, Blood and Injury

Summary: Following the events of Morass... in a snit over Xellos' theft of his Claire Bible information, Zel gets himself into trouble. Short ficlet.

Notes: This is connected to Morass. I’ve had it mostly written for a while and finally finished it. Thanks to @norakwami and @chrissysky for reading through and giving quick feedback! Poor Zel—that is totally gonna be a running gag.

AO3 link

Morass

--------

Zelgadis ran as fast as he could with one leg going numb down the ruins’ corridor, slashing behind him with his Astral Vine-enhanced sword, keeping his other hand against the wound in his side.

He had known there would be demons, but he hadn’t expected so many. He’d been careless, stupid. And one had gotten through his defenses. And given the impact, its claws were poisoned.

The shaman had cleared out a defensible room a little further down the corridor, one he could ward if he reached it.

The sound of pursuit was further behind him after another swing of his sword, and he reached it. He tossed his blade aside and used both hands and as much strength as he could muster to push the stone door back in place. He fished a piece of cascarilla chalk from a pocket and drew the runes necessary to ward the room on the door, his blood mixing with it to turn the symbols pink.

Just as he finished, there was a crash and then a howl of rage beyond the room.

There was no time for relief, Zel realized as his leg started to give out, the numbness hitting his knee, his vision starting to dim as the poison threatened far worse.

Quickly, he murmured the incantation for Dicleary, feeling the drain of the spell as it removed the poison. It took more than he expected.

He leaned against the wall, panting, and let his body slide down. Even with the poison dealt with, he felt woozy, and when he pulled at his tunic he realized why; the side of his shirt and pants were sodden with blood, and the deep gashes across his side and hip were still bleeding heavily. Each breath he took felt left the wounds burning. It was too much for his body to heal unassisted before he bled to death.

So soon after the mudslide incident, Recovery would strain him, using his body’s resources to at least stop the bleeding. He felt like a fool for not waiting longer to explore the map Xellos had left. For not letting himself recover further, too frustrated by the fact that he’d lost his leads on Claire Bible manuscripts to the Mazoku.

Better unconsciousness than death. He’d have to take stock of his own idiocy later, when he wasn’t bleeding all over the place. Even though he modified it to focus only on stopping the bleeding, the spell took the rest of his strength.

Zelgadis let himself slump onto his uninjured side as his vision faded. He could only hope the ward held.

Pain woke him, his blood-caked tunic being peeled from the healing gashes. He opened his eyes to a figure leaning over him.

A too-familiar figure.

“Xellos?” His voice was hoarse, weak. What would the Mazoku be doing here?

“Goodness, you do seem to make a routine of this sort of thing. Really, you should have more care.”

Somehow the playful amusement of his voice sounded off, like an undertone of displeasure. Zelgadis wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“Still bleeding?” he asked, though he figured he’d be dead if he was.

“No, though those slashes do look ugly.” The Mazoku let the tunic fall back into place.

Zel shrugged slightly, wincing when the movement brought pain. “They’ll heal.”

“Hm.”

Xellos reached forward, gently pulling the pack from his back. He pulled out the canteen and handed it to Zel, who suddenly realized how thirsty he was. It made sense; blood loss begat dehydration. Moving hurt too much, so he opened it with his teeth.

By the time he had slaked his thirst, Xellos had a fire going.

His body wanted rest so it could heal, exhaustion tugging at him. But Zel wanted at least one answer.

“Why are you here?”

This was the second time Xellos had shown up when he was injured. The Mazoku wasn’t rescuing him or anything ridiculous like that, but he was helping… and that seemed rather out of character to Zel.

“I thought I’d check your progress with the map I left. Honestly, I expected you would have rested more after your last brush with disaster, and especially before coming here.”

The exhaustion was eating at his vision, and he wasn’t able to do more than grunt at that. Zelgadis knew he’d made a mistake; he hardly needed Xellos to rub that in.

The Mazoku had moved to the door, peering at the rune. “This was stronger than I expected, but it seems your blood has given it more power. How interesting.”

Zel’s own curiosity was piqued at that, but he didn’t have the energy to even consider the matter further. The glow of the fire followed him into sleep.

When he next woke it was to the smell of a hearty stew. He was alone, next to the fire in his bedroll.

And naked again—he hoped this didn’t become a running thing like going over waterfalls. But at least he was clean of blood.

As he ate, he examined the healing gashes, wincing as he realized that one across his hip had come uncomfortably close to castrating him. He shuddered. Even with his body’s ability to heal, he didn’t think it’d regenerate lost flesh.

His torn clothing was beside his pack, both oddly devoid of blood, and Zelgadis realized abruptly that the blood that had to have pooled where he passed out against the wall was similarly gone. The fascinated tone of Xellos’ voice before he’d passed out again came to mind, and he tried not to be creeped out.

His tunic and pants were distressingly shredded in places, ruined. A note atop read, You nearly became a eunuch. I doubt you want to lose that! Zel grimaced at the reminder. Fresh clothing is in your pack. Do be more careful with this set, Zelgadis-san. Another crude chibi version of the priest signed the note.

His pack had also been restocked with food and water. There was even a small stock of firewood, enough to last a few days. Zel had the uneasy feeling he’d paid for this help with his blood, literally.

He was likely to need more rest after casting another healing spell, and so after finishing his meal he dressed and built up the fire, moving gingerly with the pain. Fortunately none of them reopened.

The Recovery spell sapped him, though not as completely as last time—not suffering from blood loss probably helped. He crawled back into the bedroll and mentally took stock of his situation.

Zelgadis had let his frustration get the better of him, and he’d very nearly gotten killed as a result. And as much as he’d like to, he couldn’t blame that on Xellos. The Mazoku irritated him, but he needed to better control his emotions. He had gotten himself into this situation.

Because of his foolishness, he was trapped in a hostile space, protected by a ward, until he was recovered enough to fight a horde of monsters. And at least he had enough supplies now for that.

As sleep started to pull at him, he wondered again why Xellos would bother… and like with the blood, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

[sairaagdreamer]

An Entry

After she and Rezo parted under the church awning, Sylphiel noticed again that Ms. Amelia and Mr. Zelgadis were hopelessly preoccupied with family and closer friends. So, she returned to her room at the inn, fretted a tiny bit, napped briefly, woke, and dug out her journal.

Sir Mr. Dear Rezo;

I hope you truly didn’t mind my gawking. And about arms’ length, you were close, I was doing that, almost. Which isn’t fair to you, I know. It’s really my fault. You see, it wouldn't be the first time I'd...

Put someone up on a pedestal. I seem to have that problem.

I think it started with my father, actually. It was just him and me as long as I can remember. He was always so kind, never even a harsh word. And such a tender heart, he was almost never able to speak of my mother. I'm not even sure what happened to her. Maybe she left? Or maybe she died delivering me? I decided Father didn't want me to know. I never asked anybody, not even my uncle. And the men in my family don't seem willing to speak about painful things, so he never brought it up either, even when I was living with him. But I'm sure someone would tell me if there was any chance I could meet her, so she must be gone.

Anyway, I only wanted to please him. He was high priest, so perhaps that's why I went that way. He never said I had to, but I took to the white arts quickly, and it made him so proud of me, so I never looked back. I'm not saying I regret it. I love to help people. It is the most fulfilling thing in my life.

But back to the pedestals. When I was young, I was really prone to crushes on gentlemen who’d shown me some kindness or another. Or sometimes, I wasn’t even the direct recipient of the act... and it didn’t even have to be a significant one. People like local doctors, of course, men who had adopted orphaned children or animals, the baker, who sometimes snuck me an extra roll and winked when Father and I would visit his shop.  I was very young and they were all perfectly harmless feelings, and almost all of them faded. Well, almost all. I think my propensity is not normal, and while that is obvious now, it wasn’t always so. In fact, I was still oblivious even as a young adult.

You are familiar with Mr. Gourry Gabriev. When I was still a girl he’d slain a demon in my town. So of course I worshipped him, but he more than any others, and it didn’t go away. It only got worse. He occupied... far too many of my thoughts. He was perfection in my eyes. In fact, I almost called him MASTER Gourry in front of you. Could you tell? If you noticed me sputtering at all you didn't mention it. That was kind of you.

As I aged, I made plans to seek him out, but they didn't come to fruition because instead, he came to Sairaag with Ms. Lina and the others. And it was as if my dreams were being delivered to me! I could see immediately that he and Ms. Lina had some kind of connection, but I told myself it was obligatory - perhaps he was actually in her employ? And when I asked Ms. Lina about it, she indicated she was after his sword. I let myself believe that too. Ms. Lina was often... violent with Mr. Gourry. Well, she is aggressive in general, but he seemed to bear the brunt. So I thought I'd surely be able to pull him away from her, and treat him the way he deserved, and that he’d love me for it.

You know what happened in Sairaag and it’s beside the point I’m trying to make anyway, except for one thing. Ms. Lina was horribly injured in the battle with your copy. It was so bad I almost failed to save her. And when it happened, Mr. Gourry howled as if he’d lost his mind. He begged me to save her. But I still didn’t get it, even then. I convinced myself it was because we needed her to win and of course because we ALL loved her, equally.  Not he in particular.

We all celebrated and the others left, but I stayed behind. And even despite everything that had happened, I still had Mr. Gourry in my thoughts, at a time I should have only been focused on my city and my family. But that life I wanted with him was just such a pleasant distraction from certain other feelings I had at the time that I indulged in the fantasy as often as I could. It just wasn't the right time for us, I told myself, and I could be patient. With my absence, he would grow to miss me. Maybe he would even come to court me. So, for a long time, I stayed where he knew he could find me. Even if I did travel, I fastidiously looked for letters.

He never wrote and never visited and I told myself it was because of his professional obligations to Ms. Lina. How noble that he would see those through before taking up with me, I thought. When I met Ms. Lina and the others again on the road, Mr. Gourry had been taken hostage. I went along with their group SO eagerly. Oh, if I could help rescue him! He would have to be convinced of my devotion. And at the risk of repeating myself endlessly, I really, REALLY wanted him. It didn't matter that it was Hellmaster Phibrizo himself who had captured him. I would have faced anyone to have Mr. Gourry...  But he was always Ms. Lina's, always. He’d said once that he wished Lina were a bit more like me, but that only meant I could never replace her, even with her flaws. I still hadn’t realized that, even years later. Instead I had been working to be more like Ms. Lina for when I saw him again. I even learned her signature black magic spell. I... I fired it at Hellmaster trying to save Gourry. Can you imagine? I tried it twice, actually. I didn’t finish the incantation the second time.

Anyway. He and Ms. Lina truly are soulmates. Remember, I told you about how they each gave themselves to oblivion for the other? Well, that something so incredible as that is what it took for me to realize it. The staggering depth of my obsession with him. How one-sided it was. How I didn't really have anything to offer him. Well, I can cook, but that's not really remarkable at all, is it? It's only because Ms. Lina can't that he noticed at all, I'm sure.

Here Sylphiel sighed. It wasn't as melancholy as one might expect, given the present content of her letter, but all old pains fade in time, and Sylphiel was blessed with resilience, the grace to forgive almost anything, and optimism about the future. Then she continued.

So, to prevent that from happening again, there hasn't been anyone since Mr. Gourry. I've kept myself busy with work, hoping I can grow out of this flaw. I try to appreciate, not to idolize, though it's certainly possible I can't be cured. If that is so, I might just stay alone. Many people do. And Mr. Gourry is, shall we say, adorably dedicated to his interests. In the end I am lucky he didn't notice my affection, so it didn't cause him any grief. 

Then she paused, hmm'd and grinned indulgently.

But you! You would CERTAINLY notice, wouldn't you? To such a person I must be an open book. If you did indeed see any glimpse of it. I promise, I won't subject you to my juvenile foibles. But so you know, you are wrong - you ARE extraordinary, and one needn't be as prone to worship as I am to notice. Who could live such a selfless life as yours and NOT be extraordinary? And who wouldn't want to make sure that you were made to be happy too?

Now as she wrote she was borderline manic, giggling unabashedly. Her letters suffered significantly as a result:

Besides that, you are gorgeous! You must know you could court anyone you wanted. I believe you must have been told by now so if there isn't anyone in your heart already it must be that you're pursuing professional desires instead. Your hair curls when it is wet. You don’t know how close I was to reaching up and brushing it out of your face. You touched my hand, you complimented my laugh. You were so gracious even though I caused you pain. You asked about your eyes and I lied a little, please forgive me, but you didn't ask about your hands or your MOUTH and thank LON, because I wanted to

Okay, so that is enough of that, surely.

Anyway. I promise not to burden you. I'm still going to admire, for there's not really anything I can do about that, obviously. But I won't tell myself I can have you. Knowing this, I can be a friend, and an associate, of sorts. Well, it'd be more like an acolyte, given our disparate breadths of experience, wouldn't it? Not that I would think to demand your services as such. And we'll part on pleasant terms. Perhaps when I return to duty, you'll even indulge me to write you from time to time.

Yours, Best, Yours, 

Sylphiel

Alright, so this one was a little too personal even for her journal. What if someone were to find and read it? Their purpose fulfilled, she tore out the pages and stored them securely with a magical lock and everything. Maybe she’d read them again once or twice sometime later, just for fun, and then burn them completely.

Next she took out other stationery and, in immaculate hand on fresh, stately paper with a very fine tooth, penned a letter she really would be sending to the Red Priest. {See response to Ask ;) }

[ipraygreywords]

"You're not a monster." - cholericchimera

Rezo has steady hands, to compensate for blindness. But when Zelgadis speaks those words, Rezo drops the entire tray of glass pipettes he was carrying.

They’re standing together in the Seyruun laboratory, build during Eldoran’s reign, and expanded during Philionel’s.  Rezo has been made a member of the permanent staff, and spends many of his waking hours there, working on many draughts and potions for the healing of serious illnesses across the mainland, and into the territory once isolated by the Mazoku Barrier. 

He’s also been secretly laboring on the one great cause that, come hell or high water, he will see to fruition, before he dies: a cure for the person speaking to him now.  

It is not a heroic deed. It is only fitting penance.  It is only cleaning up his own mess.  And that is why he hasn’t told Zelgadis.  That is why he won’t, until there’s victory.  This is his burden to bear now; his child is going to live richly and fully, in the meantime, without false hope.  

But Rezo knows without a doubt that he does not deserve such exoneration: not now, not ever. 

I hurt my own baby.  Willingly.  There is nothing in creation more despicable. 

He can’t stop the torrential onslaught of tears.  He cants his chin back so they won’t fall, and he clenches his fists, and murmurs, distractedly,

      “Clumsy.  I seem to have had  … quite a dizzy spell just now.” 

He kneels, and when he makes that mistake, tears do fall down porcelain cheeks; he breaks his promise to conceal his suffering from Zelgadis.  

     “Shit,” he mutters, fiercely, while feeling around to pick up broken glass.  After a shard cuts his thumb,  he casts a spell to erase the mess.  Convenient. 

 He wipes his eyes quickly.  Now is one of those times being unable to see his own reflection is a disadvantage.  He tries not to panic, and instead stands again.

    “I’m compelled to disagree.”  His voice trembles. It sounds young and afraid, but brave, too.  “But deserving those words will be my daily effort. Every day, I will try.  I will try, Zelgadis. For you.”  

I can’t remember what you look like, he muses.  My hands can’t remember the shape of your face. When you were young, I would pat your face so I could know what my one living family member looked like.  I could see you.  Seeing you was enough, when all I knew was darkness.  

I wish I could see you now.  But I have no right. I have no right. I have no right. 

[recentanimenews]

Slayers: The Ghosts of Sairaag

By Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi. Released in Japan by Fujimi Fantasia Bunko. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Elizabeth Ellis.

Like virtually every English-speaking fan, I was exposed to Slayers via the anime long before Tokyopop put out the novels way back when, and also long long before J-Novel Club rescued them. This means that more than anything else, I am surprised at how short and plot-heavy these books are, having absolutely no time for anything that would count as a breather. The author’s afterword in this book talks about the fact that he frequently sketches out hints of backstory that he then never gets into, because doing so would “make the world smaller”. Which is a very fantasy author way of thinking, I suppose, but it also means that character development and depth take a backseat. No one suffers more from that here than Sylphiel, the newly introduced priestess, who gets to be nice, have a seeming crush on Gourry, and that’s about it. Now, to be fair, that’s all she was in the anime too, but at least it took 8-9 episodes to show us that.

The book starts badly, in misogynist fantasy “of Gor” territory, with Lina and Gourry captured by some goons who decide to rape her, and Gourry convincing them not to by implying Lina has syphilis. It’s meant to be funny, but isn’t. It turns out that EVERYONE is after them lately, as there’s a wanted poster with their faces, as well as Zelgadis, on it… and the bounty for their capture is being paid by Rezo the Red Priest. Which is a surprise to Lina, who killed him in the first book. Getting of the bottom of things takes them to the woods outside Sairaag, a city that was destroyed in the legendary past but has now recovered and is a bustling metropolis. They meet up with Lantz (remember Lantz? From Book 2?) and a bounty hunter named Eris, as well as Sylphiel, who Gourry had met previously in an adventure that is frustratingly never explained to us. Can they escape the Red Priest again? And is this really him?

There are some strengths here. Sometimes the humor does work – there’s a wonderful part where Lina and Gourry fend off a fishman by simply changing their clothes, as Lina says they can’t tell humans apart… then she fails to recognize Lantz because he now has a beard. Rezo – if that is who this really is – makes a suitably creepy villain, especially at the end, and the artwork showing him off is horrifying. And the reveal of another villain is pretty well handled and surprising. Unfortunately, the book’s shortness as well as its deliberate avoidance of depth means that other things meant to be tragic and horrifying just aren’t. Our heroes never enter Sairaag or see anyone in it, so its destruction – again – lacks any impact, especially as Sylphiel recovers pretty fast from the loss of everything she’s ever known. It desperately needs fleshing out, something that anime actually did… well, not much, but at least they actually go to the city!

Basically, more modern fantasies have spoiled me for character depth, and Slayers can sometimes seem lacking as a result. This is the danger of iconic series who have been imitated a bit too much. In the meantime, for those anime viewers wondering where Amelia was during all this, well, the anime swapped book 4 and 3. Which means next time we get to see both Amelia AND Phil, something that makes me happy no matter how short and outline-ish the book ends up being.

By: Sean Gaffney

[harocat]

Zel's hair is stiff but not so stiff that it doesn't move when it's really windy out (we see it do this), which means that you could probably bend it into weird shapes pretty easily, and it would STAY because wire.

Which means Lina and Amelia totally need to sneak into his room in the middle of the night and do that. He wakes up with like, a temporary faux hawk and curls. 

[bitter-byte]

Slayers artober day 31: Festive

[yamiartstash]

Here's Merpeep Zelgadis who is not happy with his current predicament

[bitter-byte]

Slayers artober day 16: Despair

[ipraygreywords]

☠ , Zelgadis

My muse cannot lie ! Send : 

☠ - And a name/ topic to hear what they hate the most about it/them.

     “ … ah. Er, well.” 

How very delicate a question this is.  

    “Far … . be it from me to complain, but.  My grandson. Is.  Ah … .”

Rezo makes maximum use of his mysteriously slow, regal speech patterns to stall for a diplomatic honesty.  

    “He doesn’t suffer fools.  At all.  ‘Short-fused’ isn’t exactly the right term for it, ‘unsociable,’ perhaps, though it’s certainly my fault that the natural proclivity has grown more severe.  He is fiercely intelligent, but it’s the sort of genius that’s accompanied by common sense snobbery, and the effect is a series of rather brusque and abrasive personality traits.  He will tell you if you’re being anything on the scale from silly to stupid, and he will tell you no matter how bad his timing, and he will then itemize all the reasons why he’s passed his judgment, and he will only recognize his insensitivity after the fact, when the damage is already done.  Some people, myself included, perhaps deserve this sort of callous severity, but others do not.  And I wish that at this point in his life he might have learned how to curb that tendency.”  

A pause, in which he weighs and measures whether he should confess his feelings in full. Then he realizes he has no choice.

    “I sometimes fear he hides behind me, and the things I’ve done, to justify  his own unkindness.”  

[ipraygreywords]

Hi @stonebody-coldheart I realized I owed you (and all my followers) a quick message about intent, since last time around I was upset over a Slayers fandom thing and you worried you had been the source when you hadn't. It's the same this time, although this time you are involved. But you are straight up the nicest coolest person, so you deserve this message in an early stage of our writing together.

The long and short of it is I don't know if I'm up for this after all. I will do my best because my God do I love Zelgadis and want to see him whole again, with or without Rezo. But, and maybe this was because I wasnt writing at the utmost of my mental clarity with that last post: a couple of things. And sorry again, it's 5 am as I type this so it may also lack eloquence, but I'm too disturbed by what intentions I may have wrongly presented you all in writing this character, to wait until morning.

One: and most importantly of all. The needs if this character's victims always take precedence to me, no matter how much I may feel for his own suffering (and I do, and I think what he underwent deserves both close analysis and compassion, but never once did I mean for calmly contemplating the facts of his fate to come across as the character "taking the easy route of wallowing in pity"). I want it to be clear that even when I am showing the depth of Rezos pain, that doesn't mean I am using that as emotional leverage over the people whom he freely chose to hurt. Ever. I would never ever ever want to side with the abuser like that. Never ever. I know that was something you wrote in character, not as yourself, but it really worried me.

Two: I have a public headcanon post, though it's easy to miss, as it was made weeks ago, that Rezo is already working on Zelgadis's cure. This can be incorporated into what we have already written. I just wanted to offer a heads up.

....and honestly now I've forgotten the rest of my points. Sorry. Bad headspace, lack of sleep, etc.

But yeah guys, I remade this character to explore a person genuinely capable of great goodness who made terrible mistakes under almost impossible circumstances. I made him to explore the metaphor of where a person (Rezo) ends and their user/abuser (Shabranigdu) begins, and how being abused can cause you to unwittingly continue the cycle of said abuse (Rezo and Zel). I made him to explore what is very personal and painful to me, the way people commodify you as an "inspiration story" if you're disabled but you also possess a marketable skill others can take advantage of and then call you "great" for. In other words, people dehumanize the disabled (like Rezo and like me) in more ways than one. Again, that's not me subsequently saying "so now don't you dare blame him for being a shit head!" And again it's certainly not the character, or me, "wallowing" in our disability. It is simply a tragic fact, and maybe I find it therapeutic to vent my experiences of ableism through a fictional character.

I fully realize that zelgadis is speaking as Zelgadis, NOT as YOU. But since he is reacting to things I wrote ic that were NOT my intent, this reveals that I've done a terrible job as a writer, and for that I want to apologize.

Again maybe this is proof that I am unequal to the task, as writer, in bringing the true complexity of this character to life. Your Zelgadis is a tough sell but he SHOULD be, and he Is wonderfully ic. So you on the other hand have done a wonderful job. I'm sorry that I failed to convey what I wanted as a writer, from my end.