Post by Shun Minamoto on May 18, 2016 13:55:28 GMT -5
Telekinetic swordsmanship.
Shun discovered it—or more accurately, realized he was doing it—back during his battle with Kiriko, near the end. The way he was able to recall the sword to his hand? Then, of course, the fight with Tokiyo before that, and then Takua before him. He had moved his sword like it was just another part of himself, a feat only possible with a Shinigami and their Zanpakutō.
After that realization, he had come to find that his sword really was just another part of his soul—and what was his spiritual body but the manifestation of his soul? If he could move it, his proper Zanpakutō would be no different. So when Shun tried, days later, to do that very thing? He had met with overwhelming success.
Even now, he could command his sword effortlessly. It came to him naturally, just a new way to extend the skills he already possessed. So earlier, he feigned being disarmed and hurled his Zanpakutō high into the sky. He had it float there, out of sight and out of mind, until the opportune time. It helped that his tactics were so much sharper than Evelynn’s—she never saw it coming it.
It pierced her in the back and earned a shrill cry from the woman, but she seemed to be in total agony well before the steel cut into her body. Whatever was going on with her had, clearly, been exacerbated by her sudden connection to Shun. He worried, for a moment, that it would affect him too, but that concern didn’t take long to evaporate.
Evelynn crashed into the ground a moment later, his sword rammed into her back right up to the guard, with the other end speared into the cracked sidewalk she had fallen on. Shun followed and let himself drop from the sky, one platform at a time, until he touched down next to her. By the time he reached her side, she had stopped writing and instead just coughed her surrender into the concrete dust beneath her.
“Evelynn, I’m not going to kill you,” Shun sighed as he knelt down beside her. He found her Zanpakutō at his feet as well—she had lost her release after crashing into the ground. He ignored it for a moment and put his hand on her outfit-covered back. A warm glow of green covered her a moment later, dulling all of her physical pain.
He had a feeling, though, that the agony that had her screaming was more than just physical pain.
Only once she was sufficiently numbed did he flick his index finger again and command the blade to slide out of her. It floated in the air a moment and dripped her blood onto the palm-sized rocks of concrete that had broken free before Shun grabbed it from thin air.
As much as he knew he shouldn’t care, he wanted to do more for her. Right now, she wasn’t a monstrous Hollow to be purified. Right now, she was a sick and hilariously unlucky young woman. She didn’t deserve all of this. Even if you have to kill a man, there’s no need to be rude about it—that line resonated with him in that moment.
“I’m at least going to get you cleaned up and comfortable,” he explained as he let go of Genshi again. The sword floated forward and the blade vanished into rippling air, then turned like a key. The gateway of the Senkaimon began to appear and open a moment later, the white light as prominent as ever. “I’m sure you’ll fight me the whole time, but it’s the most basic courtesy I can offer.”
Normally he’d just sling her over his shoulder like a sack of flour he had to carry home. After that last display of pain, she deserved a bit more delicacy. Instead, Shun slipped an arm under her shoulders, and then another under her knees, before he stood up.
By the time he was on his feet, the traditional, Japanese-styled doorway of the Senkaimon hung open in front of him. Shun carried her through, wordlessly, as Genshi guided himself back into his scabbard.
*****
696 Words/13 GP
Total GP: 160 GP
Shun discovered it—or more accurately, realized he was doing it—back during his battle with Kiriko, near the end. The way he was able to recall the sword to his hand? Then, of course, the fight with Tokiyo before that, and then Takua before him. He had moved his sword like it was just another part of himself, a feat only possible with a Shinigami and their Zanpakutō.
After that realization, he had come to find that his sword really was just another part of his soul—and what was his spiritual body but the manifestation of his soul? If he could move it, his proper Zanpakutō would be no different. So when Shun tried, days later, to do that very thing? He had met with overwhelming success.
Even now, he could command his sword effortlessly. It came to him naturally, just a new way to extend the skills he already possessed. So earlier, he feigned being disarmed and hurled his Zanpakutō high into the sky. He had it float there, out of sight and out of mind, until the opportune time. It helped that his tactics were so much sharper than Evelynn’s—she never saw it coming it.
It pierced her in the back and earned a shrill cry from the woman, but she seemed to be in total agony well before the steel cut into her body. Whatever was going on with her had, clearly, been exacerbated by her sudden connection to Shun. He worried, for a moment, that it would affect him too, but that concern didn’t take long to evaporate.
Evelynn crashed into the ground a moment later, his sword rammed into her back right up to the guard, with the other end speared into the cracked sidewalk she had fallen on. Shun followed and let himself drop from the sky, one platform at a time, until he touched down next to her. By the time he reached her side, she had stopped writing and instead just coughed her surrender into the concrete dust beneath her.
“Evelynn, I’m not going to kill you,” Shun sighed as he knelt down beside her. He found her Zanpakutō at his feet as well—she had lost her release after crashing into the ground. He ignored it for a moment and put his hand on her outfit-covered back. A warm glow of green covered her a moment later, dulling all of her physical pain.
He had a feeling, though, that the agony that had her screaming was more than just physical pain.
Only once she was sufficiently numbed did he flick his index finger again and command the blade to slide out of her. It floated in the air a moment and dripped her blood onto the palm-sized rocks of concrete that had broken free before Shun grabbed it from thin air.
As much as he knew he shouldn’t care, he wanted to do more for her. Right now, she wasn’t a monstrous Hollow to be purified. Right now, she was a sick and hilariously unlucky young woman. She didn’t deserve all of this. Even if you have to kill a man, there’s no need to be rude about it—that line resonated with him in that moment.
“I’m at least going to get you cleaned up and comfortable,” he explained as he let go of Genshi again. The sword floated forward and the blade vanished into rippling air, then turned like a key. The gateway of the Senkaimon began to appear and open a moment later, the white light as prominent as ever. “I’m sure you’ll fight me the whole time, but it’s the most basic courtesy I can offer.”
Normally he’d just sling her over his shoulder like a sack of flour he had to carry home. After that last display of pain, she deserved a bit more delicacy. Instead, Shun slipped an arm under her shoulders, and then another under her knees, before he stood up.
By the time he was on his feet, the traditional, Japanese-styled doorway of the Senkaimon hung open in front of him. Shun carried her through, wordlessly, as Genshi guided himself back into his scabbard.
*****
696 Words/13 GP
Total GP: 160 GP