solitude did not befit the titan.
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slateport wore the dusk of night like a cloak, and from atop his ivory tower, gabriel surveys it all.
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in this moment he felt like an emperor overseeing his kingdom; indeed, with so much of the city laid before him, he'd be remiss to thing anything but.
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yet, with that profound sense of nobility comes something else — a shadow that threatens to smother out the fire that raged within'. it lurks in the dark recesses of his mind; a dark passenger, ever-present since the day he'd woken up in the hospital.
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it slowly worsened as he began collecting the pieces of his project, but the voice was never more loud than when he was alone. and here, in the false-throne of his office, it screamed into the void.
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a cracking sound pulls his attention downwards. the desk was something imported from kalos, far too expensive to be considered a practical expense. a fissure ran across its surface, extending deeper into its foundation until eventually tapering off. tracing the blemish to its epicenter, gabriel found the matte black of his artificial limb and the four fingers that were buried to the second knuckle.
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with some difficulty, he pulls the digits free, inspecting them like a cat would its dangling prey. his eyes narrow into dangerous slits, and the flame of anger flares outwards in a roar of fury.
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his fist crashes into the wood of the desk.
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gabriel scarcely remembers a time where he'd been afforded a moment to release the full strength of this massive form, and he doesn't let this moment go to waste.
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each subsequent strike sends wood chips scattering in all directions. his lamp is torn from its spot, tossed to the ground in a clatter of broken glass and flickering lights. papers deemed by others as important flit and tumble into the crevices brought on by this destruction, and not even his computer is safe from the assault.
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after a few minutes the fight leaves him, and gabriel settles back into his chair, chest heaving and arms shaking. it takes nearly twice as long for the behemoth of a man to settle his nerves, but eventually, the only evidence left of his anger is the ruined remains before him.
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his thoughts numbly trace back to now empty seat of councilman, and the sacrifices he'd forfeited to get there. his passion for something greater had consumed even that, and now the fruits of his labor were in motion. it would be quite some time before his dream would come into fruition, and not for the first time, he questioned if it would even work.
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gabriel immediately recognized the doubt as coming from his dark passenger. he exhales heavily, letting the sound carry in the deathly silent office.
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doubt did not become the shipping mogul.
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gabriel pushes himself to his feet, walking through the rubble like a warlord would his conquered and battered territory. he moves to the small bar, pouring himself a chilled glass of scotch before moving to stand in-front of the large window that overlooked slateport proper.
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no, self-doubt was not him. he stood above all others; domineering, and dominating. this city was his. every inch of this steel jungle was his kingdom, and he would fight to ensure that. gabriel's lips formed a wolf's smile, satisfied.
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so caught up in his own ego, gabriel missed entirely the haunted, maniacal laughter of the shadow in his mind.

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[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉