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The man without sight walked through the forest, the green band wrapped around his eyes trailing along in the desert sands as he continued to walk. For days, for weeks, months… He walked. It felt like years that he had begun to walk, and simply walk, moving forwards, forwards, forwards. Step, step, step. Leaving an endless line of imprints in the sand, the dirt, the mud, the water, the grass. He walked everywhere, fasting completely, taking not a bite to eat nor a sip of drink.
And just like that, he continued to walk. As if he were nothing more than a corpse, taking one step forwards after another, like a dead corpse given just a tether of life. And for him… that was fine. Nothing was fine. Everything was fine. I'll keep walking. And so he did. He met no person, no stranger, bare as the day he was born as he walked through the fields and forests of nature, feeling the sensation of living without seeing, all of his other senses feeling the very flow of the earth around him. As he walked, his sensation of the energies around him became acute; he could feel the very ants beneath his feet, and would step effortlessly between them, not only dodging them… but failing to disturb their path and ruin their lives.
When the sun would come out for the first time each day, his head would turn, looking towards it to feel the warmth against his face. It was the way he could tell it was morning, as the blonde hair atop his head would grow hot, and he would enjoy the feeling of it against his bare back. He reflected on the animals in nature, in the relationship between predator and prey as he walked, his right foot passing over the left as he walked all over this place called earth, traversing each and every step of it. Step. Step. Step… Forward, forward… On this blue marble he had shed tears at the sight of so many eons ago… and that was the only thing that… she had ever fought for.
Such thoughts caused him to bite down on his lip for a moment, before dismissing them again, losing himself back into nature. And so he walked, and walked… day, night, from fall to winter to spring. And there, in the beginning of the bloom of nature once more, deep within the wastelands in a place never seen by human eyes, where the life of fauna and flora spawned naturally after the tragedy of hollows and demons, and here the male finally stopped his walking, his torso falling to the ground.
Unlike before, where this would create an earthquake of magnitude… now he was light as a feather. He was starving himself to death, and the deteriorating shape of his left hand attested to that fact. He looked down at the grass, smelling it enter his nostrils as he felt his mouth water, and he simply laid there, before rolling over, opening his eyes once more, having sensed something… different.
Joined : 2010-12-11 Posts : 3387 Karma : 9 Age : 22 Location : Where all sinners congregate
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Subject Post 2Subject: Re: New Moon [Private] Thu Sep 25, 2014 11:46 am
Artist: Mattia Cupelli - Song: L'Architetto Dei Sogni - Word Count: 672
"Could it really be that simple?"
This thought repeated itself over and over again through the mind of one who was known, not for deep and philosophical thought, but for blazing a trail through her life with battle after battle, an endless cycle of catch and release that always started with boredom, and ultimately ended with more of the same boredom. Nemain never really thought about these things. Hell, she rarely really took time out of her day to think at all. But today.. today was different.
It had started as any other day had. A quick assignment had come down through the wire, it was completed with little effort, and so Nemain had decided that the next logical step was to continue her usual regiment. Without any indication she had done so, Nemain left Hueco Mundo in her usual fashion, travelling to the Living World in search of new fights to be had, new battles to be won, new enemies to be conquered. This was nothing new, of course, since she had been doing this a lot recently. There were battles to be fought everywhere, there was never enough. Never enough combat. Never enough ways to get stronger. Never enough faces to pummel.
Today though, Nemain hadn't found the opponent she had expected. She had sensed.. something. Something different, something.. more primal than she had expected. On her way to find it, the sense became almost.. sad. As if the aura itself was one of someone who had lost more than even they were admitting. At least, that's what Nemain figured from her understanding of the energy. She began to get excited, grinning in her usual fashion as she prepared to face this opponent. Who could it be? Why did they feel so.. strong and yet.. so underwhelming at the same time? What was causing it? How fun would this fight be? And as she continued questioning herself, she found herself getting more and more hyped up, her travelling taking her to the source of the energy as she prepared herself for a throwdown..
What she found, however, was anything but.
As she approached, she saw only a man. Facedown in the grass. He looked... weary.. starving... defeated. Nemain blinked as she crossed her arms, huffing and blowing a strand of hair out of her face. Well, that was no fun. If someone had already beaten this guy up, there'd be no challenge to it. No sense of fun or victory at all. Nemain rolled her eyes, fully prepared to just leave. But before she could, the figure rolled over, and spoke..
"...You… why do you… fight…?"
Nemain's eyes widened as she turned around once more, looking at the now face-up figure in the grass and raising an eyebrow at his appearance, shrugging and crossing her arms. "That's a dumb question.. Why does anyone fight? To win! We fight to win so that we can fight more and win more! Combat is a glorious thing, and you can't just be happy with one victory. If you win, ya gotta keep fighting! Ya gotta KEEP winning. It's the only thing that MATTERS in life!" She spoke with emphasis, tapping her foot on the ground as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Why do you even ask that question? There isn't any other reason to fight!"
But even as Nemain said that, she couldn't help but think.. Could it really be that simple? Could it really just be the cycle that she claimed it to be? Even in the face of her insults to this man's question, she found herself asking it again in her head. She never really had ever sat down and thought about her reasons for fighting, she had just.. done it. All her life, from Menos Grande to Vasto Lorde, she had desired combat. It was the only thing in this or any world that truly mattered to her.
So... Why did she now find herself questioning the purpose of it..?
I envy because of the heart. I glutton because of the heart. I covet because of the heart. I am prideful because of the heart. I sloth because of the heart. I rage because of the heart. Because of the heart... I lust for everything about you.
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Subject Post 3Subject: Re: New Moon [Private] Mon Oct 13, 2014 6:13 pm
"...Ha… you think me weak, do you not, child?"
The male asked her as he lay in the grass, having sensed clearly that feeling of disappointment she gave off like a stinking cloud of methane gas. It was so easily discerned by the male due to his experience with the emotion; she was not the only one who had been disappointed in her prey in the past. The male sat back up slowly, raising back onto his behind as she turned back around, a small, quiet cackle leaving his lips.
"A fight is not fought for victory. That is hollow, meaningless. After all, if that is true, then why am I so defeated?" The blind male asked her as his face inclined towards her, before for an instant he let that presence that was once the definition of his life come forth. He allowed not the aura that had been the joyous opponent of so many come to the surface. This was the aura of the slayer, the victor, the combatant of those whose very presence shook the earth. This was one with experience wielding raw power so massive that it shook the very earth, created aftermaths that remained for years.
And that same presence, which may have caused her knees to buckle from the unexpected presence of it, would vanish as soon as it appeared. "Voi, do you know why this body ended up this way? If you do not know the answer to that, then the reason for why you fight is incomplete. This is the end result of that path, and you know in your heart this is not what you desire to end up as." The male told her plainly, in very simple terms as he fell back onto his very back once more, listening to the sounds of the forest once more, breathing in the cool forest air.
"A fight has two combatants. When one is disregarded, the fight becomes incomplete. The fact of fighting for victory…? Removes the purpose of the other combatant. You could be fighting a rock and you would receive the same result, would you not? What does their skill matter? What does fighting another person at all, matter? Do you want them to be strong? But voi, there will always be someone stronger; if there isn't, then you lose your reason to fight, but if there is, then your goal defines you must keep fighting until there is not any. But…"
The male trailed off, before finally rising up and sitting on the boulder behind where his head had been on the ground ,looking up at the sky. "You do not seem like the type to want to bring something out of yourself. Are you trying to make the opponent acknowledge you? Is that why you ight? Are you trying to tether your existence, to carve it in the bodies of your opponents? Do you seek to dominate through making others your record, to tell your story, to give them something to aspire towards? Do you wish to make others envious of your strength… In short, do you wish to leave a wake of people to keep challenging you, but you keep killing them off instead." He informed her, looking now directly at where she was with his sightless gaze. "You're like an artist with a strength so great that all of his brushes shatter in his grasp… you do it not out of malice, or hatred...but out of confusion. Aye, even that is better than how I was at that point, isn't it… You'll make it through alright, child…"