Gravity > Flight [Open]

Gilbert Beilschmidt jolted out of the trance he had gotten himself in. A quick survey around made him realize that he was sitting on his desk chair with the empty Word document on his laptop screen staring him at the face, seemingly mocking him. He laughed, giddily for he was still buzzed, before setting down the mostly drained beer bottle he just noticed he still held.

A silly grin stayed on his face as he stood up, swaying a bit, and he cheerfully cursed the hellish bane which was writer’s block. Typical of his muse to shut up three or four chapters to the end of the story. He could already hear his editor’s furious banging on his apartment’s door along with yells of ‘where the hell is my manuscript, you lazy asshole!’. “Well, fuck that!” he declared, running a hand through his hair as he took off his glasses. He could churn out those chapters if he wanted to, and he just didn’t want to right then. That was it. He was Gilbert Beilschmidt! Hell, he could fly if he wanted to!

...

Grinning as he pocketed his glasses, he headed to his apartment’s balcony. The view was nice as always--clear sky above, and houses and trees and the apartment block’s swimming pool at the courtyard below--but Gilbert didn’t care about scenery at the moment. Inebriation aside, he climbed and managed to get a decent balance standing on the balcony railing.

“Okay...” He spread his arms out, palms facing up. Deep breaths... Focus... A force field, made from sparks of his energy, enclosed him. He could feel his heart beating faster in nervousness and excitement as he stepped off the railing, and he swore it skipped a beat before he discovered he was floating in mid-air. Immensely relieved his idea worked because he just then realized he’d be dead if it hadn’t, he sighed, then burst out laughing. Ah, the things alcohol did to him...

In his elation, he completely lost his focus and the sparks fizzled out, making the force field disappear. Gilbert swore. There was no time to maneuver himself to fall into the swimming pool, so only tile and concrete awaited him below. Hoping for the best, he braced himself for impact while attempting to create another force field around him.

He barely noticed the blurred figure--an animal? a person?--he was accelerating to.

In what he thought would be his last few moments of having a fully-functional body, Gilbert cursed whatever had given him this ‘power’ with all his being. He didn’t completely understand it--hell, he still didn’t know how force-field generation could be scientifically possible outside comic books--but he thought he’d had a good enough grasp on it. Oh, how wrong he was. Still no force-field generated, he resigned himself to his fate...at least, he was about to until he took full notice of the person he was about to hit.

His eyes widened, and he wanted to shout for her to move out of the way, but the words and his breath were caught in his throat. Why the hell won’t she move?! He was now a lot more alarmed; he really didn’t want to involve anyone else in this semi-suicidal stunt. Luckily, the panic and worry gave him a burst of energy which he quickly projected into a flat force-field, and Gilbert managed to fall on it with only a feet or two to spare.

Letting out another huge sigh of relief, he took a few seconds to calm down before sitting up on the near-invisible platform. He peered through the barrier at the woman below.

“Hey there,” he greeted. He tried to give her a casual smile, though it came out as something more of a pained grimace. While the force-field had managed to neutralize most of the impact force’s magnitude, the collision still hurt. And add that to the fact that Gilbert was currently straining to keep the force-field up.

Gilbert regarded her quietly for a few moments, amused at how terrified she looked a half-second ago (never mind the fact that he had probably looked that way as well). He tried to pin a name or anything to the cute, kind of familiar face as she moved from below him, but with no results. It dawned on him that he barely knew any of the other tenants in the building, and man, they must think he was some kind of recluse or nocturnal weirdo. Which he were, in a way. He considered doing some damage control and being more neighbourly, but quickly dismissed the thought. He couldn’t be bothered to do such things.

In his self-absorbed pondering, he almost forgot that the woman had asked him a question. “Ah. This is a force-field,” he finally answered. He swiped a hand over it, blinking in surprise when the action made it glow for a second before fading back to invisibility. “It’s made up of my awesome energy.” Ever since he discovered the existence of his...’abilities’, he’d never thought to keep them secret. He would even show them off proudly, if ever given the opportunity.

He took in her other comment and laughed, shaking his head. “And nah, no need for that.” He began to slowly lower the platform. It held out for a few feet before completely disappearing, making Gilbert fall for the rest of the way and land on his behind. He winced, the ache in his body more noticeable now. He managed to stand up, but shakily, this time because of the pain instead of inebriation; what happened earlier had more than sobered him up. “Yeah, I’m never gonna do that again. Drunk or sober.” It was an empty declaration, of course.

Gilbert staggered towards the nearest recliner and plopped down on it with another wince. He really needed to learn to be more careful with his body. Sure, you have a fucking awesome power, but that doesn’t mean you’re suddenly invincible, he berated to himself. He would blame it on the alcohol, as he sometimes did, but he doubted being drunk had ever made a normal person do what he had just done. Not that a normal person could project force-fields and all.

“Awesome energy exists,” he began, lying himself down more gently. “It exists inside me, ‘cause I’m awesome.” It finally occurred to him to wonder why the woman wasn’t more surprised at how she had just seen a man defy gravity and made an invisible platform appear out of thin air. Chalking it up to how weird the people in the apartment block were so far, him included, he decided not to think about it further and just continued talking.

“And well, I was buzzed, and I somehow got the idea of trying to use my force-field to fly, so I enclosed myself in it and stepped off my balcony. It completely slipped my mind that my apartment is at the 7th floor.” One would think Gilbert was insane for casually explaining it like that, but that was just how he was. He grinned, bright and mirthful. “And it worked, I tell ya! Well...at least for about ten seconds, I guess. Then I kind of lost focus.” He looked away, slightly embarrassed to admit that particular detail. “Anyway, the force-field broke, I fell, and you know what happened from there.”

His explanation over with, he brought his gaze back towards the woman, an inquisitive eyebrow raised. “Now what’s your story? Why didn’t you move away back then?” he asked, not ready to declare that it was because of her that he had managed to put up the force-field in time.

“No one else can use awesome energy ‘cause only I have it!” Gilbert grinned at her, not sure himself whether he was joking or serious about the statement. The grin grew at how the woman reacted to his anecdote--he’d admit that he’d also be laughing if someone else told him the story, and at this point he was just going to pretend it had all been drunk Gilbert’s fault anyway--and he nodded before holding a hand palm up in a pledge.

“I, in all my drunken and/or sober awesomeness, do solemnly swear that I will not attempt to fly at any height above...say...twenty feet?--yeah, I think I won’t die from that--and also that I’ll lock the balcony door before getting drunk in general.” He concluded with a wink at the woman and a laugh.

His expression changed from amused to surprised at the response to his question. Unable to help but feel a bit touched despite the somewhat stupid way the woman had expressed her concern, it took Gilbert a moment to think of a reply. “Wow. Well...you gotta admit that not a lot of people would have the guts to even consider doing what you had, so kudos to you, lady!” He paused, then hesitantly added, “And I guess it’s thanks to you that I’m still in one piece. If I hadn’t seen you there, I probably wouldn’t have been able to generate a force-field in time to save both our asses.”

Slowly, he sat up and extended a hand towards her, smiling almost shyly but gratefully. “So yeah. Thanks.”

^{(( So much apologies for how long this took! *also why are you so talkative, Gil*))}

“You underestimate me. I may not look it, but this old man is tough!” Gilbert pouted at her, though it quickly slipped into a smile. “Yeah, I kid. I promise to not fly above ten feet when I’m drunk.” He snuck the final fragment in as an afterthought. He was pretty sure he would be attempting the stunt again once he achieves enough control over his ability, so he didn’t want to end up making an empty promise, be it to someone he barely knew.

He watched, curious and a bit fascinated, as the woman blushed and moved her hair around in what seemed to be a shy gesture. It was kind of cute, he mused, before his smile grew to his usual grin at her unfinished statement. “Well, that’s true, but it definitely can’t hold a candle to my earlier feat in the stupidity department!” He declared it with a jokingly proud tone in an attempt to maybe get the other to loosen up with another laugh.

It was only after she’d asked the question that Gilbert realized that they had yet to exchange introductions. Well that was strange, he observed as he dropped his hand after their brief shake. Usually he would be throwing his name around (sometimes along with his profession) at the nearest opportunity. It must have slipped his mind after their not-so-typical and would-most-likely-be-very-memorable first encounter. “Gilbert,” he answered, still grinning. “Gilbert Beilschmidt. Been living here for almost two years but barely knows any of the other tenants. And you are...?”

Gilbert tutted at her. “So now you’re stripping an old man of his right to attempt flight?” He asked, imitating the tone and voice of a surly senior citizen. It didn’t take much effort with how raspy and jacked-up his voice already was from too much smoking in the past.

“And that sucks. I wish I could’ve met him before he left.” He tried not to be nosy and ask about who the guy was and why he had moved. “But yeah. Nice meeting you too, Halimeda!” He beamed right back. It was nice talking to someone who wasn’t his editor for a change. Hali was a pretty cool person, if not a bit impulsive. Then again, who was Gilbert to judge? So he just relished in the thought that he’d found himself a new friend. He laughed before adding, “Ah, but your stupidity plus my stupidity is what led to this awesome, one-of-a-kind meeting.”

He then grinned reassuringly at her and gave a dismissive wave of his hand, but really, he was very grateful for the concern. “I’m all good! Still kinda sore, but no broken bones and shit.” He tried to prove it to her by standing and doing some stretches, unaware of how he was bleeding quite a lot from the back of his head.