09-15-2014, 07:56 PM
Standing on the roof of the castle, Enel listened to the sounds of the desert wind. It helped him focus, somehow.
It had been a day, now, since he’d arrived in the Omniverse. He furrowed his brow. It was strange. Despite having only slept once, it felt in truth like much, much longer. His own grasp on the passage of time was frustratingly foggy. His hangover was gone completely, and yet he still felt drunk. Was it all part of the illusion?
Or is this all some strange dream?
He was being fucked with. That was all. But he didn’t like it. He’d never been so damn uncomfortable in his mature life. He’d never been forced to use his brain so much.
“Tch …”
He rose to a standing position and did something he hadn’t done in a long time. He drilled.
His staff was waiting, ever at the ready. Ever loyal, ever his servant. He raised it and swung, putting forth all the frustration into a golf-club swing. He let his haki flow through him, guiding the stave and bringing it back round to his back. He released it into his non-dominant hand and brought it back round. Enel repeated it twice, going through the motions as he moved around the rooftop in a circle. The god pictured imaginary attackers coming from every direction and he acted out the blows that would disable each one.
One. Two. Three.
He spun the staff overhead and unleashed a storm of lightning outward …
…
“Tch.” With renewed anger he struck out at his illusory foes. He imagined breaking the first one’s collarbone, then the ribs of the second. The third …
A grin rose on the deity’s face as he smashed the hilt of the staff downward, a blow that shook the floor. As he did so, his grin faded and became a dark frown once more.
He might actually have to use these moves, now. The staff – he spun it in his hands as he pondered – had always been more of a toy than a tool. A repository of conductor for his electricity, a way to kill his enemies in a flashier way. One moment it was a staff, the next it was a trident. Then it was a river of gold, drinking its way down the throats of hapless idiots. He so loved to watch their agonising screams, to pull the gold back out from their bellies. The blood didn’t bother him. Nothing bothered him except for …
He cringed.
Being powerless.
He slammed the staff into the roof again, Ganondorf be damned. Then he raised the staff up and he drilled again.
It had been a day, now, since he’d arrived in the Omniverse. He furrowed his brow. It was strange. Despite having only slept once, it felt in truth like much, much longer. His own grasp on the passage of time was frustratingly foggy. His hangover was gone completely, and yet he still felt drunk. Was it all part of the illusion?
Or is this all some strange dream?
He was being fucked with. That was all. But he didn’t like it. He’d never been so damn uncomfortable in his mature life. He’d never been forced to use his brain so much.
“Tch …”
He rose to a standing position and did something he hadn’t done in a long time. He drilled.
His staff was waiting, ever at the ready. Ever loyal, ever his servant. He raised it and swung, putting forth all the frustration into a golf-club swing. He let his haki flow through him, guiding the stave and bringing it back round to his back. He released it into his non-dominant hand and brought it back round. Enel repeated it twice, going through the motions as he moved around the rooftop in a circle. The god pictured imaginary attackers coming from every direction and he acted out the blows that would disable each one.
One. Two. Three.
He spun the staff overhead and unleashed a storm of lightning outward …
…
“Tch.” With renewed anger he struck out at his illusory foes. He imagined breaking the first one’s collarbone, then the ribs of the second. The third …
A grin rose on the deity’s face as he smashed the hilt of the staff downward, a blow that shook the floor. As he did so, his grin faded and became a dark frown once more.
He might actually have to use these moves, now. The staff – he spun it in his hands as he pondered – had always been more of a toy than a tool. A repository of conductor for his electricity, a way to kill his enemies in a flashier way. One moment it was a staff, the next it was a trident. Then it was a river of gold, drinking its way down the throats of hapless idiots. He so loved to watch their agonising screams, to pull the gold back out from their bellies. The blood didn’t bother him. Nothing bothered him except for …
He cringed.
Being powerless.
He slammed the staff into the roof again, Ganondorf be damned. Then he raised the staff up and he drilled again.
![[Image: godenel_baronsig.png]](http://omniverse-rpg.com/images/godenel_baronsig.png)