Post by Dew on Jan 12, 2016 11:29:01 GMT -5
If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? It was an age old question, and one that would still go without an answer. As it was, trees were falling in the forest, and the one making them fall was definitely around to hear it. They fell, made a sound, and were pulled back up to begin the process all over again.
To the young woman making the trees fall, this act was not so much training as it was ‘testing’. There were innumerable points on the log that the tip of her blade could find. But only a single point would allow her to split the trunk with as little force as possible. That was what she sought for now. Though, the simple scene of training reflected a search of a much different sort when one widened their gaze out from the center.
Trees lay in splinters all around, and what pieces remained as a recognizable whole were scored with the territorial marks of some great beast. It formed a training ring of sorts, or perhaps a nest. Uneven footing that was still somewhat warmer than the snow that had been packed down beneath. Had these corpses been of flesh rather than wood, a forensic scientist might have been horrified at the stories the dead had to tell.
How many can I destroy in the space of a few minutes?
Such a childish story, perhaps it was luck that the splinters were not of bone and the pulp not of flesh. Or had that been by design? As much design as the clean cut of the log that stood before the woman. The slow removal of her limiter earlier that day gave beast and fowl alike the time to vacate their mountain home with all haste. Hopefully those who could not make such an exodus had passed quietly into the night. A small, perhaps foolish hope sure, but one that the woman would hold onto as the imagination of the contrary was not something she wished to deal with. She had enough nightmares as is.
Half of the woman abhorred the mountain’s silence. It burned for the sounds of humanity. Of life. For laughter, for cries, for screams of rage and anguish. For quiet chirps to be silenced, chitters of small animals cut short. That was no longer the half in control. Its handiwork was apparent, so it was time for it’s companion to take the reigns. This was the half that thrived in the silence. In the sharp burn of the cold on exposed skin. It kept her wits as sharp as the bite of winter.
Now, had the halves been allowed to work as a whole, or at least in tandem, they might have come to the conclusion that ‘training’ on a mountain in the winter was a horrible idea. Even more so when warmer clothing had been tossed aside in favor of a sports bra and jogging pants. The same exercise that kept her warm was also producing a fine bead of sweat that the air endeavored to use to freeze her whole. Her wit was sharp. Not her good sense. At least not right now. Not until the halves were allowed to work together again.
Alexandria Dewis could feel a sting start to grow within her right hand. Her rapier hand. Without missing a beat in her tattoo of blade on wood, she passed the blade from one hand to the other and shifted her stance to continue. Cold, clear eyes turned up to a cold, clear sky, and took note of the position of the sun. One more hour. One more hour, and she would return to tentative peace. To balance. One more hour and she would reapply her limiter. One more hour before she traveled home to wash and rest, and decide what she was going to do the next day. One more hour of complete and utter isolation.
After all, who was strong enough to resist the weight of her soul? Let alone approach her. Hollows could be cut down. Shinigami dismissed. Arrancar avoided. And humans? The only human who might match her had vanished again. All alone on top of her mountain. And maybe it was more than half of her that liked it that way.
Gp Gain: 14
Gp Total: 14
To the young woman making the trees fall, this act was not so much training as it was ‘testing’. There were innumerable points on the log that the tip of her blade could find. But only a single point would allow her to split the trunk with as little force as possible. That was what she sought for now. Though, the simple scene of training reflected a search of a much different sort when one widened their gaze out from the center.
Trees lay in splinters all around, and what pieces remained as a recognizable whole were scored with the territorial marks of some great beast. It formed a training ring of sorts, or perhaps a nest. Uneven footing that was still somewhat warmer than the snow that had been packed down beneath. Had these corpses been of flesh rather than wood, a forensic scientist might have been horrified at the stories the dead had to tell.
How many can I destroy in the space of a few minutes?
Such a childish story, perhaps it was luck that the splinters were not of bone and the pulp not of flesh. Or had that been by design? As much design as the clean cut of the log that stood before the woman. The slow removal of her limiter earlier that day gave beast and fowl alike the time to vacate their mountain home with all haste. Hopefully those who could not make such an exodus had passed quietly into the night. A small, perhaps foolish hope sure, but one that the woman would hold onto as the imagination of the contrary was not something she wished to deal with. She had enough nightmares as is.
Half of the woman abhorred the mountain’s silence. It burned for the sounds of humanity. Of life. For laughter, for cries, for screams of rage and anguish. For quiet chirps to be silenced, chitters of small animals cut short. That was no longer the half in control. Its handiwork was apparent, so it was time for it’s companion to take the reigns. This was the half that thrived in the silence. In the sharp burn of the cold on exposed skin. It kept her wits as sharp as the bite of winter.
Now, had the halves been allowed to work as a whole, or at least in tandem, they might have come to the conclusion that ‘training’ on a mountain in the winter was a horrible idea. Even more so when warmer clothing had been tossed aside in favor of a sports bra and jogging pants. The same exercise that kept her warm was also producing a fine bead of sweat that the air endeavored to use to freeze her whole. Her wit was sharp. Not her good sense. At least not right now. Not until the halves were allowed to work together again.
Alexandria Dewis could feel a sting start to grow within her right hand. Her rapier hand. Without missing a beat in her tattoo of blade on wood, she passed the blade from one hand to the other and shifted her stance to continue. Cold, clear eyes turned up to a cold, clear sky, and took note of the position of the sun. One more hour. One more hour, and she would return to tentative peace. To balance. One more hour and she would reapply her limiter. One more hour before she traveled home to wash and rest, and decide what she was going to do the next day. One more hour of complete and utter isolation.
After all, who was strong enough to resist the weight of her soul? Let alone approach her. Hollows could be cut down. Shinigami dismissed. Arrancar avoided. And humans? The only human who might match her had vanished again. All alone on top of her mountain. And maybe it was more than half of her that liked it that way.
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Word Count: 726Gp Gain: 14
Gp Total: 14
