Iron Fist - Soft Hands [Closed/Victoria]

Her office wasn't as spartan as many would expect of the Fifth officers. Her walls were lined with books and various drawings, paintings and artifacts she'd collected over her long career. A warm light flickered across the dark wooden walls from the brightly polished brass brazier. The various fabrics that existed were of deep burgundies, earthy greens and rich exquisite violet hues. Upon the wall immediate behind her desk, to which she and the brazier sat to the left of, hung perhaps the darkest of the clothe hangings on her wall. Nearly the color of dried blood and roughly her height in length it was more a tapestry than anything. Woven into its center in golden thread the Roman numeral for five dominated the piece. 

None of that mattered at the moment. The wolfs mind was elsewhere as the crackling of the wood coals and clinking of her knitting needles. She'd just begun this project and hadn't quite decided what she'd make this time around. She'd been entertaining a new shawl for herself as the days were growing colder and the homespun shawls she wore more and more regularly were becoming not quite heavy enough. The thoughts were politely interrupted by the gentle wrap at her door. A quick sniff told her she didn't know this person. She didn't bother checking if she had a weapon close by. The knitting needles would be enough if she needed them. She doubted she would though. "Come in," she called in a slightly sign song voice. A tad out of her character but she was in a good enough mood to be a tad playful. 

WC- 272

Asadi felt like he had waited outside for what seemed like an eternity until he heard a feminine voice call out to him in a singsong like fashion for him to enter. Raising his left eyebrow at the fashion he was called upon, the shinigami wasn’t quite sure what to think about it. Maybe it was the Iron Fist’s assistant because when picturing someone known as the ‘Iron Fist’, this didn’t seem like the way he’d be called upon. Tentatively, the man opened the door and stepped in, not exactly knowing what he was getting himself into.

Closing the door behind him, Asadi was greeted by the warmth from the brazier, casting light on the various items that dotted the room and one lone figure that sat behind a desk, knitting. Well, this office certainly didn’t scream the Fifth Division at all, save the tapestry with a roman numeral five on it. Noting the various fabrics that hung elsewhere in the room, he couldn’t believe that this was the office of a fighter. Maybe it was his own preconceived notion of what he thought her office would look like that left him baffled.

Seeing who he assumed was Victoria sitting behind the desk, he took a step forward with his left foot and bowed lightly to the woman who seemed preoccupied with her knitting. “Sorry for interrupting you, Ms. Aeserninus. I’m Asadi Easifa from the Second Division.” Raising up, he looked straight at her, his features displaying his slight discomfort at the situation. “I’m here… hoping that you could train me or give me tips on improving my hakuda. I’m trying to become a better warrior without relying solely on my zanpakutō.”

If there was a chance to make himself a better asset to his division, for his captain, he had to try. This might be his only chance before he had to seek his own methods.

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He stopped in front of her. He bowed. And he asked for her assistance with the skill that had gotten her so far. Hakuda.

She couldn't blame him. She was, besides his own divisions captain, one of the best hand to hand fighters the Gotei had. Her duty with the fifth was to make sure that all her members could fight well with their hands. She took a deep breath as she studied him. He was broad shouldered, trim in build, fairly decently muscled if only a bit on the tall side. Slowly she exhaled as she worked over the scent of his energy. 

Frankly, he was weak. This wasn't a big deal, everyone started out weak at some point. What mattered was his heart. What was within him to drive him forward when he faced adversity and hardship. 

Slowly, the right corner of her mouth twisted upwards as it tugged at the tight skin on the right side of her face. Her hands hadn't stopped moving as she worked her way through her project. 

"Well... take a seat, " she mentioned with a forward nod of her head. "I don't have any open slots to give you for training and as a member of the... Second was it?.. And it's not like I can give you to one of the training officers beneath me within the Fifth either." Pulling free a section of yarn she continued as her needles began to move again. "I can gladly sit with you and pass on verbally what I know. And watch you while you do what you know at present and try and talk your through corrections. If thats fine with you, of course."

She bit her lip slightly as the yarn snagged. Reaching down into the box her yarn was kept in she tossed the offending ball to the younger shinigami, "Be a dear and hold that to keep it from snagging?" A soft smile as made eye contact. Green eyes met green eyes and she held his gaze for a moment before putting her eyes back to her work. Silence enveloping them as she resumed her knitting till the crackling of the brazier threatened to drown out all sounds. "Ah, yes... Training advice!" she hummed slightly as she continued her knitting.

"I'll be brief Mr... Easifa?" she'd barely caught his first name and doubted she'd ever need to know it. Surnames were useful within military organizations. First names were common surnames were generally unique. "I don't hold a particular style that I can teach you. I was never taught one and developed my skills on numerous fronts and in countless engagements across my service time. When I began this journey all those years ago we were desperate for troops. Our education was rough and we were pressed into combat often within days of our graduation. All the skills I know have no place in a school or any style. I don't believe there is a single style in existence that adequately prepares our troops for fighting the enemies we do. Far too often our enemies are massive beasts much larger than us. Other times they're our size. Regardless, there isn't a style that covers both situations adequately enough to be taught to a student. So..." 

She stopped and looked him in the eyes for the second time, "You must learn what works for you. Do not limit yourself to a single style or approach. Rigidity in approach to how we do battle with our enemies is a greater enemy than the monsters we encounter. You must be flexible in both body and mind. If one approach fails then you must have seven more ready at your disposal. Your mind must also be as honed as your body. You must be as unshakable as the mountains and as flexible as tall grasses of the plains."

WC-643

As Asadi stood there, he could feel Victoria’s power. Not necessarily her spiritual strength, but the strength in her presence. Over the years there were countless stories that the young shinigami had heard about the long-tenured Iron Fist - from her prowess in battle to her knowledge of hand to hand combat. Standing before her was an extreme honor and he was glad to have it. The fact that he was even allowed in here was amazing. It felt like a childhood dream come true for some odd reason.

Watching Victoria knit was a bit odd to him though. Maybe it was the fact that his head was filled with all these stories of this great fighter and all she was doing was idly knitting. It was kind of nice to see that this docile act, it put the shinigami at ease, letting him relax in his skin as the woman smiled. With a breath of relief, he returned the smile, noting the scar on her face. This left him wondering what had happened to cause such a thing. Maybe when she was younger and less experienced or was it from when she was alive. Did scars from the previous side carry over? That required research because he wasn’t sure of the matter - nor did he have the stones to ask her outright.

Doing as he was told, taking the seat that Victoria gestured to with her head, Asadi was greeted to unfortunate news that left a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. It seemed that his trip here was for not. A sour taste filled his mouth as she went on saying that she couldn’t pass it onto any other officers. Asadi drummed his fingers on the armrests on the chair as he grinded his teeth, listening quietly, hearing a slight glimmer of hope once Victoria said she might be able to pass on her knowledge verbally or watch him practice. At least there was a chance that he could gain some knowledge and hopefully improve. Then he wouldn’t at least look like a welp in front of his captain.

Catching the ball of yarn that was tossed at him, his hands slowly wrapped around the material as he cocked a brow at the woman behind the desk. Running his fingers over the soft material, Asadi couldn’t help but wonder why he was really here until his eyes locked with hers for a moment before she piped up about training advice. Relaxing into the chair, a soft smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he held the yarn taut.

It was then that Asadi found out the true scope of Victoria’s age and how long she had been in the service of the Soul Society. Truth be told, he certainly was impressed - to survive such an ordeal and still be around and kicking this long… it was amazing. The shinigami didn’t care to learn a particular style, that suited him just fine. The last thing that was needed was to be stuck in a rut because of keeping to a single art form. Adapt, overcome, and survive - these words were engraved in his heart.

As their eyes locked one last time, his smile took true shape, his teeth bared to her. “That’s the plan. I want to become skilled enough to hold my own against even the mightiest opponent. It’s one of the reasons I came to you after trying to find someone within my own division. I mean, I could have turned to the captain… but I doubt she’d want to bother by someone such as me.” The man gave an awkward chuckle. “But, any help that you’re willing to give me will certainly help and I appreciate it all. Truly I do.”

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