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 Wooden Symphony

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Subject Post 1PostSubject: Wooden Symphony   Sun Nov 06, 2016 7:05 pm



Scrabbles



Sprache




Song: N/a STUFF - Artist: N/A STUFF - Words: N/A



Sprache wasn't entirely sure how long he had been out there and alone. He knew the words that measured time, days, weeks, hours, he knew what they meant and how they could be used, but he did not remember how to actually measure the time itself. He remembered it had to do with the sun, was that a day or an hour? No, that was a day, when it went around the sky. So fourteen times would be fourteen days. Yes, he remembered that, that was two weeks. Two weeks since he woke up. He had not left the area from which he had initially fled to. People had searched for him, whatever facility he had escaped from sent people out in to these woods looking for him very often. Combing through the trees to find their little escapee. Some had even succeeded, but Sprache was beginning to discover that he was very much not human, or at least not the same kind of human as the ones sent after him. He was stronger, faster, and somehow was able to shoot light sticks out of his hands. He'd been able to chase off whoever had come his way and once even...he believed kill was the word...one of the more persistent ones. Another loud scrape caressed his ear drums as the stone in his hand raked across the outside wall of the cave. Lines over lines, spaces filled in, shapes being formed. Sprache did not really know what he was drawing or why he did this, his body just did whenever he didn't need to defend himself or whenever he was particularly stressed, his body seemed to just know what to do to alleviate that pressure. The sound of the last etch died out as Sprache finished his carving, setting the now worn stone down beside him as he rolled back on to his backside, tired and somewhat bored eyes looking up at his work as the sounds of the night faded away.

Or they should have. Immediately Sprache was on edge. That was not a sound he had heard before, he didn't know any animal even capable of making that sound. It was distant at first and the shock of something foreign put Sprache on edge, the man leaped to his feet and turned his head toward the sound. The frayed and damaged pants he had over worn the last two weeks sagged to the side at this motions and the small beads of sweat on his bare chest flicked off in to the air, almost begging for slow motion. The numerous altercations and scuffles he had been subjected to had not been kind on his clothes. One of his first altercations a blade cut clear through the shirt, didn't seem to affect his flesh much but it certainly did a number on his clothes. He had since discarded it, used the fabric to hold his etching rocks. He still had the pants adorned, but they weren't exactly in the best of shape either. Sprache had been scavenging and living without aid in the "wilderness" for two weeks and it had shown as the rather destitute fellow soared toward the foreign sound, hoping to assess whatever this new threat was.

Of course, the closer he got and the louder the foreign sound, the less and less like a dreadful new weapon it sounded. Sprache did not remember the concept of music or instruments, but the noise had a soothing, calming tone. Even his somewhat out of touch senses were aware of that. His intentions were slowly shifting with each hard pressed step through space. Originally he set out to confront and possibly destroy whatever was sent to kill him, now his objective was a little less sure. Was this a weapon sent after him or just a new phenomenon he had not yet encountered? If it wasn't an enemy what then? Could he eat it? He then found it, a woman. At least he thought that's what the people with swollen chests were called. She had a stick in one hand, very easily could be a weapon if it had powers to, and a wooden...well...Sprache didn't really know what it was. She was rubbing the stick on the whatchamacallit rather aggressively and, it seemed, that such action was what was causing the sound to emanate. Sprache touched his ear, no blood, probably not trying to attack him, could be a trap though. Couldn't get him with violence, get him with something pleasant, those dastards. So he decided he would play it safe, well, safeish. He had to figure out who this person was and why she was throwing sound at him and if it was dangerous or contagious or whatever, she was in his woods after all. Still he shouldn't get too close, he didn't know what she was. So light sticks? Yes, light sticks. Of course, Sprache presence was kind of immense and he had no idea how to suppress his energy, so the woman would already know he was there if she was paying even a modicum of attention, but Sprache was still going to be extra stealthy with this. The man gathered his energy in his hand, forming a Quincy bow of blue energy, Sprache's being considerably shorter than the typical Quincy's which might have seemed strange given the immensity of his presence. He formed one of his light sticks, arrows, along the length of it and pulled it back, slowly stepping out in to visible line of site with the arrow pointed at the woman's face.

"What is that sound the club of dead tree is making when you rub it and why are you here?"


Coding By: [THEFROST]


Last edited by Imakuran on Mon Nov 07, 2016 10:36 am; edited 1 time in total
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Subject Post 2PostSubject: Re: Wooden Symphony   Sun Nov 06, 2016 7:53 pm






Her training routine had been a success. She had managed to incorporate new and more intricate footsteps into her repertoire while maintaining a flow that was clean, even, and rather organized. As was usual, her reward for a nigh perfect training was her chance to rehearse her music. Her choice for that day, had been a soft, calm, but rather uplifting tune. Sofia had the tendency to draw inspiration from the things she saw with her eyes. And the tune which she so graceful played that day stemmed from a musical she had seen in a kids movie. Of course, to anyone not familiar with the latest cinematic projects it would have seemed as simply an enigmatic but calming melody.

Even before she had been interrupted by foreign words, Sofia felt an energy that was similar but at the same time totally unlike her own. It was dense and deeply reishi concentrated. Although just a hunch initially, it was a fair assumption that the individual was a Quincy just like her. Her first reaction when she turned to face him would be one of a friendly and amicable disposition. She was known after all for being rather approachable despite her willingness to punish the Quincy that stepped beyond their boundaries. It was part of her duties after all.

“Hello?”

Her question seemed filled with shock, and perhaps even disconcert as the behavior and the garments of the Quincy were definitely out of place. He looked at her with what she could only describe as lost and wandering eyes. It wasn’t the wandering sight that she was acquainted with, as with those whose sight eventually surrendered over the heavy weight or pull to look at her butt. Instead, the man seemed lost in nature. His clothes also seemed tattered, broken, and put through quite a test. He had either gone there for a battle, or been through a plethora of situations that warranted a comparison to the latter. What shocked her more however was that expression he had. He was so confused, yet she thought she could clearly see through his intent. She had seen it before. It seemed as though he weighed the options between attacking her or not.

The man was a stranger to her. She had never seen such Quincy among her men or even across the other ranks of the Vandenreich. If his plan was indeed one of attack, she could only assume he was there to try and challenge her for the position she had. Still, the ebony hair lady would not be allowed a word before the man commenced his own plan of attack. Drawing his spirit bow, he seemed ready to fire an arrow as he moved.

Shit, she thought to herself jumping back several feet to create further distance between them, the violin bow and the violin falling upon the cushioning surface of the grass.

The instruments would surely be okay. In the chance that they weren’t, she had plenty of extras and the wealth to buy several more if she so desired.

“Its a violin,”

On one of her hands, a violin bow, much like the one she held before would be materialized. It looked strikingly similar to the real thing save for subtle hints of light blue reishi coating its edges.

“Who are you, speak now or be ready for the consequences.”

As she spoke, she would consciously harden the reishi throughout her geigenbogen (violin bow). In essence, it made it as sturdy and as sharp as a blade, and bearing striking similarity to a seele save for the characteristics that made it seem more like a violin bow. The handle had been extended and the frog portion of the bow enlarged as well to serve as a small handguard.

Who the hell is this insolent fool, she wondered to herself as she gained her footing.

While not going straight into an attack, she would first await his own initial force, as if seeking a reason to retaliate. She had been nice and very subtle to the stranger before he attacked her. At that point, she had no choice but to subdue him, find out his motives, and act accordingly. At the end, the result would be a fault of his own rash and premeditated actions.




Coding in template By: [THEFROST]





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Subject Post 3PostSubject: Re: Wooden Symphony   Sun Nov 06, 2016 8:35 pm



Scrabbles



Sprache




Song: N/a STUFF - Artist: N/A STUFF - Words: N/A



Violin?

"Violin...phonetically similar to violent. Is it a weapon?"

She moved, she wasn't supposed to do that. Sprache followed her with the pointy end of his light stick as she jumped back, keeping it trained on her face. Though if she was particularly paying attention, she'd notice that Sprache did not especially have the sense of grace that a Quincy typically has while readying and firing a bow. The energy was definitely Quincy, it was impossible to mistake that, but any of the training and practice and technique that came from wielding it was definitely gone from Sprache. He had none of those things to his name and while his body clearly knew how to move with innate grace and skill, that didn't exactly translate over to the use of a bow. Still, the pointy end of the light stick was trained on her and it still was pretty dangerous looking.

She dropped the wooden club and rubbing device when she moved and withdrew...another rubbing device. He wasn't sure why, what was wrong with the other one? Was it not rubbing her right? Then he noticed, this one was not just wood and twine. This rubbing device had energy coursing through it...energy that felt a lot like his own. Energy, threat, adversary...she was a weapon like he was and she was out there to kill him. That was the only logical explanation. Well, no, it wasn't the only logical explanation but it was the only one he had available to him at this point. He'd be patient though. He learned from strangling bears that you needed to be patient, rushing in was a good way to die or get fur in your mouth and both of those were just absolutely excruciating.

She then posed a query that was...well, confusing. She asked him who he was. If she was out here with the other people who were looking for him, wouldn't she know who he was? The others did not exactly struggle to identify him, why was she? This didn't make any sense. Sprache was ignorant, not stupid, he could see that this didn't add up at all. The noise, despite being disconcerting initially, didn't hurt him. If she didn't know who he was and wasn't actively trying to hurt him, just maybe she wasn't with the people they kept sending here after him...but then why was she here? She also could be lying, he knew that word now, lying. Was it a trick? It could be, but it had bought a pause. He didn't need to take the shot yet. Not yet...

"My name is Sprache...what are consequences?"

That was a word he didn't remember and hadn't learned yet. What was a consequence. He had to face it...does that mean it was something with a face? Was that her name? Consequence? That was a weird name, then again he only knew his own name, maybe his name was weird. That was pretty insensitive of him to just assume he was the normal one. He would have to work on that whenever he wasn't about to be killed. The energy whirring through the rubber in her hand was not something that left his cognizance through it all as he kept his light stick trained on her, clearly struggling to understand the situation.

"Is your name Consequences?"

Then Sprache's own very obviously lack of training and control of his powers showed through. His grip on the light stick wavered for only a moment, and that was all it needed. Snapping out of his hand, the projectile hurtled through the air toward the woman. The sloppy and unintentional release had shot the light stick off course and had no hope of hitting her and would crash through a tree behind her, relieving the tree of...well, the upper eighty percent of its body as Sprache wagged his finger in an attempt to chase the pain away, taking his attention off of the woman for the first time since he saw her. Light sticks were mean.


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Subject Post 4PostSubject: Re: Wooden Symphony   Sun Nov 13, 2016 11:58 am


[PLAY POSTING MUSIC]





THE QUINCY PRODIGY

Artist: Lindsey Stirling - Song: Electric Daisy


A weapon… was he for real?

The inner thought question was quite serious. The guy displayed a behavior that was unclear, erratic, and difficult to discern; just like his intentions. His powers were definitely Quincy based as the reishi gathering around his spirit weapon and him clearly indicated. However, from the looks of it, even the reishi gathering around him seemed lost and erratic, almost as if in perfect synchrony with his seemingly equally imbalanced and erratic psychological state. Regardless, Sofia would make no attempt to answer the question. If anything, it was shock and pure disbelief holding her back. She did possess the skill to create her spirit weapon to resemble the look of a violin bow, but she had yet to meet an individual who mistook the simple, graceful and peaceful look of a violin for that of a violent weapon.

She had to admit the guy wasn’t bad looking however. Were it not for his insolent behavior, the dismantled and dirty aged look of his clothes, and the fact that he kept a heilig pfeil pointed at her, he might have actually appeared cuter yet. Those were words however she would not capitalize on, thoughts she would not allow further freedom of transit through her mind, and certainly ideas she would not permit to translate into audible forms of confirmation.

”Are you stupid?”

The question was a bit frantic. The tone of her voice was less indicative of an insult for the sake of being cruel, but rather a desperate and frustrated attempt to figure out why he acted as he did.

What is he, a child?

She simply couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the Quincy. He didn’t recognize her or her abilities, and he certainly wasn’t aware or fully in control of the nature of his. Beyond that, either he was pretty good at lying about everything he knew, he was amnesiac, or maybe just extremely stupid. Lately, thanks to the repeated interactions with less than clever folks, she was inclined to believe the latter. When he asked if her name was consequences however, that was it. Her train of thought stopped momentarily. Part of her wanted to smile and laugh had it not been caused for such a silly reason.

Taking a long breath indicative of subtle frustration, she lowered her geigenbogen some, bringing her free hand upwards, her thumb rubbing in circles against the side of her head. Though the arrow was still pointed at her, somehow she figured he wouldn’t fire just yet. More importantly, the sheer shock and puzzling questions from Sprache were enough to momentarily shift the focus of importance from the aiming of his arrow, to the astoundly weird nature of his questions.

Making an attempt to calm herself and see things through, the Quincy prodigy would open her eyes and readied to answer the last question as best she could. This time however, a rather different and unfortunately dangerous attempt would halt the otherwise previously friendly process. The arrow had been fired, astray but fired nonetheless in her general direction. She had been so distressed and preoccupied with the nature of his questions and the erratic behavior of the odd Quincy, that she could hardly do more than blink upon opening her eyes as the arrow destroyed a tree not far behind her. Her sights would set once again on Sprache, her look a bit more afixed on his eyes that time around. Her expression was indicative of someone that was displeased, the slightest bit upset, and honestly quite irritated.

Fucking,”Dick…”

Only the phallic word would have been audible. It didn’t quite refer to the phallic member but rather as a bit of a subtle insult to Spranche. Then again, he was so seemingly distant from reality that it would have been a miracle, and a bit of a kick in the teeth if he was acquainted with the euphemisms of such phrase while aloof from the meaning of words like consequences. She would hardly ever allow anyone to hear her curse though, mostly out of professional reasons, so the cursing thought was reserved only for herself, confined within her mind. She wasn’t the kind of person to use naughty language all that often. Some people however, seemed to have an easier time drawing out the part of her she seemed to make such a conscious effort in trying to suppress.

Without wasting another moment, she would use her hirenkyaku to move at an extremely fast pace, keeping her stance closer to the ground and leaning over in a similar fashion. Given the relatively short distance from each other, Sofia would find herself short of a few inches from Sprache in a near split second. And, with her sharp geigenbogen aimed upwards, it would hover a couple inches away from the underside of his chin.

“I’m not sure if you’re amnesiac or just plain stupid. But I hear you get your memory back if you get hit hard enough. Either that or you die, and I’m intent on testing out which will happen.”

If he had enough issues understanding simple words such as the ones asked earlier, she couldn’t fathom that he would understand the double meanings and convoluted expressions she mentioned. Alas, it didn’t matter. She was going to push him for his insolence until he stopped his trolling ruse, or until she figured out, seriously, what was wrong with him. While she wouldn’t make a conscious effort to try and kill him, if she had her patience toyed with further, there was a chance she could swing her bow a little harder, or have a slipping moment of blissful disregard for his well being.

“Name’s Sofia.”

The words were said with a snickering smile, and an odd semi flirtatious wink that was totally unlike her style. The wink however was more out of her playful and semi excited feeling for the spar rather than an actual attempt at coming off as being sensual.



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Subject Post 5PostSubject: Re: Wooden Symphony   Tue Nov 15, 2016 4:59 pm



Scrabbles



Sprache




Song: N/a STUFF - Artist: N/A STUFF - Words: N/A



He wasn't sure what he was dealing with at all.

He had dealt with attackers before, he even dealt with attackers recently. However, none of these assailants could do one thing, the very thing that they were assigned to do...and that was hurt him. It was a distinction that Sofia set very, very early. She was fast, far faster than anything he'd seen yet and faster than him, that was warning flag one. Warning flag two happened equally quickly. It was not the first time Sprache had been attacked and it was not the first time that the people that attacked him were capable of manipulating energy like he was. What was a first was that energy actually doing anything to him. Sprache moved instinctively, as the weapon came in his hand rose to block. He thought it would be like most weapons. He just concentrated a little bit, the energy that just came out of him would shift a bit to his hand and it'd stop the attack. Then a new sensation hit him, one he had no recollection of experiencing or anything to use as a true comparative...pain. Sprache didn't move for a moment as the Geigenbogen's energy ground in to the palm of his hand. Time seemed to freeze for a moment as his brain tried to process the new sensation. When time seemed to unfreeze however, his brain let him know that it was very much a problem.

People had come at him with weapons before. Words he began to place as a gun, a sword, a spear, a missile, a chariot. He hadn't been short on death threats and attempts on him, the missile being especially harsh on the trees and why he decided that sleeping in one probably was not the best of ideas. This was the first time that one of those weapons had managed to get past his energy field that just coursed through him. He couldn't control that field, but he was intelligent enough to discern that it was that very field that stopped all those aforementioned weapons from hindering him a whole hell of a lot. Some of those weapons even had energy coursing through them as well, but none had really been able to do anything to him...until this one. What made this one special? What made this one different? What made it unique? She had the same energy he did...could he do it too?

A noise Sprache didn't recognize leaped from his throat as he jumped back and away from the woman. Two new facts had arisen that raced through his mind. Someone was faster than he was and someone could actually hurt him. This was the first time he was actually in danger, the first time he was actually at risk...and was the sensation he was feeling enjoyment? Thrill? Those were words he knew the meaning of but never had a frame of reference to apply them to. It was like trying to define "blue" without ever seeing the color. He felt excitement, he felt enjoyment, he felt adrenaline, it was like seeing in color for the first time. He now had an actual challenge that wasn't just finding something to eat. Sprache landed on the grass four meters from Sofia. He had to think, which was something of a new experience in and of itself.

She was faster and could injure him, he was now at a disadvantage. He didn't know anything about her but she had already been given substantially more information on him from their exchange. So he had the speed, offense and information disadvantage to contend with. So what did he have left? Range? That was risky to assume, her energy felt very similar she could very well have the same powers that he did. She favored rushing at him, was that because she did not have the same light sticks or simply that she didn't feel she needed to respect him? That was a dangerous gamble to make, he couldn't be assured she attacked up close because she simply could not do anything else. That afforded him one remaining avenue, one he was not sure would work, but he just discovered what risk was, he certainly did not have time to become risk averse.

Sprache shifted his weight to his back foot as he raised his arms up parallel to one another, blood tricking from his palm as he generated the same energy he held before, the haunting blue hue shimmering through the wooded area as he once more leveled the weapon at Sofia's chest. Hopefully this would work and she would behave how he wanted and expected, but if she did not...well...this was the first time he had been confronted with a challenge after all. He had at least the rest of his life, however, short that may yet be, to figure it out.

Spoiler:
 


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Subject Post 6PostSubject: Re: Wooden Symphony   Tue Nov 15, 2016 8:12 pm


[PLAY POSTING MUSIC]





THE QUINCY PRODIGY

Artist: DSharp - Song: Love Me Like You Do [Violin]


The more their struggling encounter continued, the more puzzling questions arose about the odd newcomer that had happened onto her location. He was very obviously a Quincy, but he seemed so aloof with the notion it almost seemed as a mistake to call him by such name. Perhaps he had actually been hit on the head, with something very large and very heavy. His behavior was beyond erratic. It bordered on absolute stupidity. Through her academic years she had learned about a condition called amnesia. Sometimes it clouded the mind from recalling the past. Sometimes it prevented the mind from creating new memories to add unto the storage of their recollections. On rare cases, the thoughts impaired would only revolve around a very specific and traumatic event. However, to see someone that had lost so much as to be unaware of the meaning of such simple things was just plain stupid in her mind. It would have been easier to mistake him for a clown or a child, than someone that had lost their memory. If anything, his behavior was more indicative of someone that had never even created memories to begin with.

“Who holds a blade???”

His reaction of reaching and holding onto her geigenbogen before letting go as a results of the obvious waves of pain had struck a nerve. Initially she had tried to weigh in on just how off balanced he was, but the more things he did, the more she simply assumed he was just stupid. Perhaps he had actually hit himself way too hard at birth and his parents just sort of did the nice thing, and offed him into the wilderness. Still, her expression had a somewhat comical hints to it had anyone taken the time to stop, and look. For a brief moment she seemed beyond preoccupied with his mental stability. She actually displayed what could be considered as worried look or care for his well being. Granted his fate wouldn’t have been any better had he walked into the attack or chosen to counterattack in a different way. In fact, the results would have likely been quite deadly. Yet alas, she seemed to display a caring disposition that perhaps originated out of his own inability to understand what was going on, and the very subtle hints of stupid innocence she saw within him.

As soon as he raised his hand upwards however, the Quincy prodigy would jump back, easing the reishi throughout the geigenbogen. The look of its length would look softer, more malleable and much less sharper than it once was.

”Which Quincy family do you hail from?”

As she spoke, her free left hand would see the length of her ring finger curl inside the loop of one of her seele schneider. Upon pulling it up and away from her belt, the seele would ignite on her command. The string of the geigenbogen would be pulled back effortlessly as a bow would despite its earlier sharp and rigid nature. If Sprache was confused before, the fact that she could harmlessly pull on the item that had injured him would cause quite the conundrum. The seele would be placed against the geigenbogen, aimed towards Sprache, ready to be used as an arrow at any time if needed. Unlike his arrow, her seele looked much bigger and potentially menacing both because of its construct and the amounts of dense reishi she allowed to gather around it. To anyone that didn’t know any better however, it would simply seem as though she was ready to fire a sharp glowing blue sword from a bow.

”Somebody, somewhere, is very disappointed in you.”

Though she didn’t expect her words to awaken or kick some sense into him, perhaps they could work as a form of trigger to reveal something from his past. It would be on his best interest to try and remember or at least to attempt to cooperate. Otherwise he would continue to go down a dangerous and violent path, led by Sofia’s own tempo. And if he continued to test her patience, the path would lead somewhere he would find troublesome and painful to come back from, and potentially deadly to both his body and his soul.



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Subject Post 7PostSubject: Re: Wooden Symphony   Tue Nov 15, 2016 8:51 pm



Scrabbles



Sprache




Song: N/a STUFF - Artist: N/A STUFF - Words: N/A



Well, that was a new kind of challenge to say the least.

So she didn't do what he wanted her to. He was hoping for further forward aggression, he wanted to keep her engaged in close combat where he hoped he could rely on his intuition and instincts to outmaneuver her. At a range, things were far less intuitive and far more calculated and intellectual. It wasn't that he couldn't wage that war, but he had unfortunately come unarmed to that battle of wits this time around and he wasn't an idiot, contrary to her opinion of him. If the gap between them was as wide as Sprache thought however, he wasn't going to be able to hit her with the arrow as she jumped away from him, it would be pointless. Not to mention she decided to showcase once again that in their little spat he was woefully outmaneuvered AND outgunned. He wasn't allowed nice things. Sprache grumbled softly under his breath something about size and compensation before she cut off any further muffled protest with her words...words that seemed to catch Sprache entirely off guard. The weapon having a malleable nature would not be quite as surprising as she believed it would be. Not because the feat wasn't necessarily confusing mind you, because it was a small wonder to the man, but he could feel and see the energy coursing through it and if anyone knew just how ridiculous the phenomenon one could create with their energy was...it was Sprache. The man had his fair share of ridiculous creations and her being able to make a sharp object elastic was rather tame by comparison to...well...they weren't allowed to go south from this spot to say the least.

Not because she made him remember anything...if that was her attempt it was pretty confusing and ridiculous. Someone was disappointed in him? It was an undeniable truth of this world that you could not please everyone and someone, somewhere, was going to harbor resentment and distaste purely because humanity was not a homogenized mess, but that kind of life lesson seemed a little bit out of place when the scene was far more laser death sticky. Those weren't the words that Sprache particularly cared about though. He knew quite a few words(he knows all the words, he has the best words) because his skill set basically demanded that he do. However she said a word that he did not recognize, a word he couldn't place yet felt like he should. The man lowered his arms and the energy surrounding them dissipated. His guard looked dropped momentarily, small droplets of blood falling from his hand in to the grass below as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly in frustration. He should know that word, why didn't he? What was it? What was a Quincy? A family name? An adjective? It was not a word he knew, it was not in the lexicon, he couldn't generate one, what was she talking about?

"What...is a Quincy?"

Sprache was far more on guard than he appeared however. His weapon was down and the energy was dissipated, but he was not defenseless. His mind was already racing through the myriad of phenomenon he was able to generate should she loose that upsettingly larger arrow. Something told him it was not going to be necessary though, if she wanted to kill him, she'd have been trying harder. There was no reason for her not to press the advantage, retreating and threatening him was pointless if that was the intention. An attempt to make him come back willingly? Perhaps, but also equally pointless if they sent her they knew Sprache's response. So what was the point of this? Conversation? He'd indulge for now. He did not have many better things to do and if he could avoid it he was not in a rush to provoke that arrow. He enjoyed the integrity of his skull.

"There might be...I don't know or at the very least don't remember. I just see images, I draw them...I hope that's not where my family is."

Probably a little more ominous than he meant to sound, but it wasn't incorrect. Not everything he drew was cryptically upsetting, there were a few pleasant images, but for the most part they weren't exactly the kind of things you would show to a child nor would they appear on network television. He was cautious of this girl, but so far she had shown more insight in to who or what he was than he had and even if she was completely making it up, Sprache was desperate enough to forego caution for answers. Sprache looked down at his bloodied hand. Enough time had passed and it had gone unmolested and the energy force around him began to move on its own, intuitively determining what his body needed and sealed the wound enough to prevent infection, eliciting a soft sigh from Sprache.

"You are Quincy?"





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Subject Post 8PostSubject: Re: Wooden Symphony   Thu Nov 17, 2016 11:58 am


[PLAY POSTING MUSIC]





THE QUINCY PRODIGY

Artist: Daniel Jang - Song: See You Again [Violin]


As he moved, as he talked, as he questioned the very words she had to say, the Quincy prodigy found herself trailing off behind him. As it turned out, she didn’t follow him just in the literal sense, but rather in a metaphorical way. At first she thought she was intrigued purely out of his seemingly blunt stupidity. But, as it turned out, she was starting to discover motives and find reasons to get closer beyond what she could accomplish by simply taking a literal step forth. It was very obvious something had happened to him at one point. His behavior was simply not right. It wasn’t natural. In her mind, if she could break through whatever shields and wall he had put up to keep others out, she might have been able to understand him further. If she could manage that, perhaps she could push him onto a place where he had no choice but to come to terms with a better understanding of himself.

”I am a Quincy, and so are you. A rough one, but a Quincy nonetheless.”

As she spoke, Sofia made very clear that she wasn’t letting up on the hostile nature of her meeting. She had not lowered her bow, instead, she seemed to take aim a bit better as if finally finding the spot she would hit had she chosen to fire. The latter was unlike to happen unless Sprache decided to react in ways that were foolish, rash, and uncalled for. But, if the previous events were any indication, she had no grounds to believe he was capable or able to act in ways that were indicative of someone that was cognizant and aware of the dire situation they were in.

”People that use energy in the way we do. People that use energy in a fashion that not only looks but feels similar. Surely you have met people with energy unlike it.”

She didn’t expect Spranche to be able to tell with ease the differences between a Demon, and Arrancar, a Quincy, and so on. If he could, it would have been a nice and welcomed surprise, albeit a rather shocking one. At the very least however, even if his own understanding and acquaintance with reishi manipulation was at its minimum, no doubt he would feel a certain familiar feel between his own energy and hers. While every being was different, just like everyone looked potentially different to a point out of a diverse genetic structure, there were similarities. Despite the inherent differences, the energy from two Quincy most often would feel a lot more like each other than that stemming from a Demon or a Shinigami. Plus, with as few of Sofia and Sprache’s kind out there, he was likely to have met with much more spiritually inclined individuals that were not of his own kind. In essence, he should have been able to tell at least a speck of difference between the people he had encountered before, and at least more than a few similarities between him and the musical prodigy. While not related by any means of family ties, it would make difficult the task to deny the fact that they were similar and likely housed within the same umbrella term she referred to: The Quincy.

”I have some questions too though. What you draw, is it a place, an event, an specific person?”


With her aim still set on him, his drawings had piqued enough interest within her. The Quincy prodigy was someone with quite a curiosity. It was her curiosity and desire to create art where there didn’t seem to be any that drew her to improve on her own reishi techniques. It was that drive and curiosity that continuously allowed her room and excitement to improve on her music and the tempo she created in battle. That curiosity also had a habit of bleeding into a variety of aspects and themes she didn’t quite understand. For the time being, the secretive and odd nature of Sprache, his past and the events revolving around his mental instability or temporary amnesia had created a spark in her mind that would burn until she had figured out the reason to his madness. It wasn’t rare for people suffering from such a condition to fixate on events or people relating to the cause of their own condition. Frankly she didn’t expect to know anyone or anything that could help him figure out what had happened to him. But perhaps if she tried to make an effort to help him, he would be able to notice, trust her, and stop his belligerent advances before they caused him an unfortunate and untimely death.




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Subject Post 9PostSubject: Re: Wooden Symphony   Thu Nov 17, 2016 6:47 pm



Scrabbles



Sprache




Song: N/a STUFF - Artist: N/A STUFF - Words: N/A



Sprache's attention seemed diverted. He seemed to acknowledge that she wasn't lying and that Quincy was the title that having his powers bestowed, but the word was still rather empty for him. It was not the trigger she, or he, were looking for. Sprache looked down at his palm as Reishi coalesced around it. He didn't make the full bow or the light sticks, he had long since given up on any violent altercation with the girl. If she was planning to kill or capture him she had multiple opportunities and waiting this long only made it irritating rather than any kind of strategy. Sprache didn't react much to the weapon still trained on him. He was a little too focused on the whole "This is what you are" thing. Sprache bounced the energy in his hand a little bit, mostly ignoring her describing other races. He had of course felt other kinds of energy, but without any real descriptors, those differences meant nothing to him. You wouldn't assume one person was less human because his eyes were a different shape, it was the same concept.

"Yes."

Of course, her question merited a little more description than that. Sprache just wasn't really sure where to begin. He had been alone, entirely, for two weeks. He had spent that entire two weeks where he wasn't looking for food or fending off assailants...drawing. Her question wasn't one that had a simple or even really a coherent answer. Sprache didn't know what he was drawing, he just drew the image in his mind that was nagging at him, an image that was irritating him...an image that haunted him. It was hard to break down such a prominent and emotional image and facet of your psyche with a simple who, what, where, when, and why. She was asking a more difficult question than she realized. Sprache's eyes diverted from his hand back to her, the light stick still aimed for him in a rather rude fashion.

"It is all of the above, there are people...no one I can place. It's a place...large with a lot of large and strange trees that look man-made...buildings, that's the word. Something is happening...I don't know what...but the people don't look like you and me...or the people that I've met. They're wrong, they're so wrong. It'd be better to show you."

Sprache turned his back to her, off toward the cave he had called home. He had already finished the drawing. If she was an enemy, it was no longer an issue to give up his hide out. He could go find a new one, he was sure by then that he'd have something else he needed to draw. The man stopped for a second and turned his head over his shoulder for a moment.

"Could you please stop pointing the light stick at me? It's kind of rude."

Yes, the hypocrisy was lost on him. Sprache took off without giving her a chance to rebuttal or point out how asinine what he just said was, heading toward his cave. It didn't take long to get there, it only took a few hundred words to get to her from it the first time and travel deserves to be a little expedient. When Sprache reached the cave, mired in darkness and the absence of light, he stepped inside without pause. He'd wait a few moments for her to follow him and once she did, he would once again coalesce the light stick in his hand before raising it forward. It took him awhile to do this, light sticks were the most natural thing for him to make, but he needed to learn to make a ball of light so he could see the cave walls he was drawing. Sprache raised his arm and let the ball leave his hand, letting it hover a few feet before him before it ascended, illuminating the full of the cave.

As soon as her eyes adjusted to the bright light, he would begin to notice the etchings along the cave wall. With a sense of detail the bordered on obsessive compulsive, the entire cave face around her depicted a large city, etched in to the rock face with immaculate precision and complexity as Sprache had turned the entire cave in to a sort of three dimensional painting. If Sofia looked hard enough and was savvy as to famous landmarks, she would quickly begin to recognize certain land marks. Willis(Sears) Tower erected high through the etchings, a familiar word, Wrigley, squeezed through the line work as the famous cloud gate would then soon float in to view.

The landmarks might be the first things noticed, but they certainly weren't the most viscerally memorable things. At ground level, away from where the buildings touched the sky, a scene of chaos was carved in to the cave wall. People, or what was left of them, roved through the city, as if in an animalistic frenzy, tore in to other humans. Raking their flesh from their bones, biting off limbs...eating the corpses. The monster men were tearing the city to the ground, wreaking havoc all over the place. Sprache crouched down as his eyes lingered upon his work. It was beautifully crafted in a way, the kind of artwork to rival Michelangelo if it wasn't so macabre in nature. That reality was completely lost on Sprache though, he didn't understand what he was drawing and that mystery was far more prevalent to him than how beautiful what he drew could be.

"I don't know what I drew."





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Subject Post 10PostSubject: Re: Wooden Symphony   Wed Nov 23, 2016 6:26 pm


[PLAY POSTING MUSIC]





THE QUINCY PRODIGY

Artist: Joe Hisaishi - Song: My Neighbor Totoro [Viola]



There was something off and odd about him, but that had long been established. From the looks of it however, he wasn’t simply someone trying to pass her for a fool. He truly needed help. The way he stopped on his tracks. The way he dismissed his weapons and paused to think about some of the questions she had raised. There was something eating away at him, and it was clear he didn’t know how to deal with the intrinsic and nigh insatiable hunger for information. It's not like the Quincy prodigy had the answers to his problems, but with her mentality, she wouldn’t rest until she did. Though artistically inclined, she possessed a level of curiosity that was so grand some could have even labeled it as a fault. The notion that there were ideas and concepts she didn’t know about or simply couldn’t understand were difficult to accept but cherished and welcomed at the same time. The thrill of discovering something new had always been one of the emotions she treasured most. Developing new ways to uncover new musical means to project her art, or displaying it in completely innovative ways in battle had always instilled a sort of fulfilment in her that was difficult to replicate by other means. Though unfortunate, Sprache’s hazy past and disorganized memories were the perfect scenario to try and help him piece together the puzzle of his past.

When he had lowered his weapon, her first intention had been to lower hers as well. An odd and rather importune comment from his end requesting her to do so, elicited a facial expression that seemed to meld feelings of disgruntled distaste that were not ill intent, but that were rather embedded with subtle hints of playfulness and grudge-like semi childish behavior.


Despite her expression and intent to reply, she seemed to have been left to look on at his back, the distance between them increasing as he walked. Ass…

Following behind him, her geigenbogen would have disappeared upon her first step. The seele would have been tucked neatly into its original location after the second step.

”I’m pretty sure you don’t have a house around here.”

Although the famous musician was used to wealth and the luxury such a lifestyle allowed, she wasn’t against staying in less than hospitable areas. It would certainly not have been the first time. She had simply stated the obvious as she had not seen any houses on her way there. Plus, it would be difficult to believe someone as disheveled looking as him would be able to keep a decent home without been able to look at least somewhat decent himself. Despite her reservations, she would follow along. There was nothing to fear from him as far as she thought. And while he could certainly have friends or means to counter attack her at his lair, she was confident that his reasons and motives were less violent and much more benign. Of course, though curiosity did indeed drive her, there were other reasons that made her tag along. Though true and honest only within her mind, she had to admit he wasn’t bad looking at all. Plus, Sofia was intent on helping her kind. Either through difficult situations, with their powers, or in their own pursuit of fulfillment. While her goals were primarily focused on the Wandenreich as a whole, special attention was required for the individual to allow the organization to grow and prosper as a whole.

As they walked into the cave, she was surprised he had managed to live in those conditions for what she imagined must have been a lengthy amount of time. While she was certainly no stranger to less than stellar living conditions, the time frame for her poverty level incursions simply lasted a couple of days or however long her mission required. For the most part however, those missions never lasted long enough for her to forego a sense of cleanliness or trauma to induce memory loss. Granted surely there was something else at play with him, yet she found comfort and amusement in adding unlikely variables as to why Sprache was the way he was.

”I gotta say, your paintings are actually pretty nice.”

Used to combat and the scenes such a life created allowed her to see the violence depicted in them as white noise would be to the ear. She simply saw it, and it created no further feeling other than the notion that the theme, for the most part, was rather similar all throughout his paintings. Either Sprache had witnessed a lot of violence, or he had been the driving force of the latter for most of the life he had difficulty recalling. On the other hand, she seemed content with the way he used his energy to light the room. It was simple, and rather basic, yet Sofia had never attempted. Whenever she returned, she would have to take some time and try to re-analyze the way she saw her artistic creations, and find alternatives to them that were less complex. Surely Sprache needed a lot of work to refine his own techniques. But with the innate skill he seemed to display, a little push in the right direction could have him leaping to the right spot at the right speed.

”I’m pretty sure it's the past. Though honestly it could easily be the present, or the future.”

She was aware just about how useless her answer had been. But he couldn’t have expected her to have a finite or helpful answer just by seeing the images he created. She had a point however. From what she was told, the last few centuries were riddled with war, non belligerent conflicts, and death across the world. For the most part it had been Humans that had been dealt the strongest blow, and by extension, Quincy. It was one of the many reasons her kind fought so hard to survive and allow their peers to push on, expand their reach, and re-deliver the Earth onto Human hands. Regardless, she was still puzzled about the men she had met.

”Tell ya what, let’s take it one bit at a time.”

Eyeing what looked like a rolled up bed used in camping, Sofia would sit on it. Her legs were crossed in the most lady like of ways, the white of her clothes a nice contrast to the semi dim nature of the cave, even after it had been almost thoroughly lit. Leaning back, her head would rest gently against the cold surface of the cave wall. She seemed to look around at all of his pictures, trying her best to focus on one that seemed to draw the eye more than others.

”Pick one, and we’ll take it apart and analyze it as best we can.”

On her current position, Sofia gave what looked to be the most honest and heartfelt of smiles. It also seemed as though she had tapped the bed lightly, almost inviting him to sit beside her. However that could also have been just her way of repositioning herself on it, to sit more comfortably. What was clear however was her will and intent to help him. If Sprache could focus on one picture, the two of them could dissect it to the point where something could be uncovered in hopes of helping him reclaim at least a small fragment of the memories he had seemed to lose.




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