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Re: Veteran's What?
Sun Jan 19, 2020 10:33 am
The One Armed Orge
Damien finally stopped sitting at a bench having taken a measure of him. He let the younger shinigami finish speaking. Patting the bench he spoke now glancing out at the yard. "2000 years since I trained with my master out in the outlands. Strict teacher for sure, but a good man in the end. " He said smiling a bit as he recalled him nostalgically. It was interesting to meet someone skilled from those days. But he was just a little brat who'd yet to figure anything out. He always thought of himself as king of the mountain. His mentor broke that illusion in five minutes flat. And his nose if he recalled correctly on top of it. "You figured it out too...those require you to keep your reiatsu flowing throughout your body. Any laps in that and you'll be in for a rough time. Hard training, but worth it in the end. " He said finally acknowledging the cuffs on Laskt. Explaining how they worked in part to everything. Damien smiled a bit using heightened reiatsu control let him get away with things.
His hand drummed along his spot on the bench looking at the birds and flowers. He was giving Laskt time to recover now if only a bit. He wanted to make sure he'd gotten to walk around. "Good changes have come too to this place. The old days were rough on people. Outside in the Rukongai especially in those days. A very kill or be killed in the place. Zaraki district was bad then too, but so were a lot of places." Damien remembered each life he took with his sword and how. He leaned back in against the wooden frame. It was a bit cliche to say but Damien said it. "Real strength is knowing when to not take a life. That's when you surpass people. " He said softly as he reflected on his master's words. The man settled everything without a drop of blood being spilled. Despite his methods and teachings. Damien respected him for that above all else. He was a merely wounded warrior from a time long since forgotten.
Damien rubbed at his jaw for a moment and stood up finally. Straightening his back causing cracks and popping. He walked towards the center now gesturing for Laskt to follow him. "Try swinging your blade five times." Damien started with a smaller number to be more useful. His hand rested by his weapon. Damien's handicap many would think poorly of you'd imagine. But most respected the Veteran as a source of information. His skills and prowess in reading situations were excellent. Able to correctly navigate things without accelerating them. He held the reputation as one of the few who was respected by all Captains when he worked. His method and skills hadn't been questioned largely until later on these days.
- LasktEstablished Member
- Joined : 2018-07-25
Posts : 203
Location : MURICA
Re: Veteran's What?
Sat Jan 25, 2020 4:41 pm
PREPARE TO ENTER THE VIZARD'S POST
Enter the post
“Two thousand years, truly? It is….rare that I find another being zat old that does not try to kill me in some way. Most individuals I encounter are far younger, and far more powerful zan moi.”
Laskt’s voice was still strained and distracted as he labored in keeping his Reiatsu from tearing him asunder from it’s pressurization. The reluctant Vizard might be far less powerful than most, but even his paltry Reiatsu was quite a lot when forced and compressed into a space as small as the human body. He suspected that if he was much stronger, his rusty control would simply cause him to shred himself into component atoms the moment he tried this stunt. The knight’s weakness was a blessing in this case, perhaps.
“I wouldn’t say I ‘figured it out’ Monsieur Crow: every second is anozer opportunity for mine own power to escape my pathetic control. However, it seems I am managing somehow, at least for now. I don't think I could fight any serious battles like this however.”
This self-critical analysis was punctuated by occasional grunts and hisses as the Shinigami stumbled forward at an extremely slow pace, carefully considering each step like he was walking through a minefield. Suddenly, a burst of white Reiatsu exploded from his shoulder in a geyser of shivering energy, causing Laskt to abruptly lose control of the joint.
His voice was lowered to a low hiss, as his eyes tightened into slits, his hands shaking as his concentration redoubled. The eruption of energy slowed, stalled, then reversed, allowing Laskt control of his body once again. Laskt’s body was shaking from the fear that had enveloped him at the prospect of losing full control, but it was quickly suppressed.
You know, I’m beginning to zink zat a takeover would be for votre posséder bien. Even I am having trouble coming up with better ways to kill you zan you do yourself.
Chikai mused silently, near the back of his mind. Laskt didn’t spare a thought to retort or acknologe his inner darkness: it would have required too much energy.
“Zat much I can agree with you Monsieur Crow. Ze good days were certainly brutal, far more zan the relatively stability of today. With Madame Abalia at ze helm, it will hopefully get even better: creating a Soul Society where souls will not have to suffer the injustices zey did in life, but with even harsher and more powerful overlords.”
A flash of memory greeted Laskt’s words, that of a ramshackle castle in the Rukongai, of minions and of hedonism. Laskt pushed the thought away, unwilling to let the thoughts of centuries past disrupt his training. He followed his teacher slowly, very carefully withdrawing his sword as he did.
The knight let loose a calculated flurry at his waiting opponent, striking hard and fast, though noticeably less so than before given his handicap. The incoming strikes favored targeting Damien’s wounded side, with the knight hoping that Damien would have to expend more effort defending the half of him without a limb. When it was done, Laskt fell to one knee, panting heavily as the increased weight upon his soul took it’s toll.