11-10-2016, 11:09 PM
I puff my cheeks and start to ramble to myself. At times I’m not even entirely sure I know what I’m talking about - I’m just… saying things to ease my uncontrolled, ineffectual anger.
“MAYBE,” I conclude, “I’M just being a DRAMA QUEEN. Okay. OKAY, MAYBE IT’S NORMAL FOR PEOPLE TO JUST CASUALLY GET THEIR RIBS SHATTERED.”
It’s not working.
Nope. Not concluding yet. “AND WHAT IS IT WITH PEOPLE AND GIVING RANDOM CHILDREN WEAPONS?! JEEZ, IT’S LIKE NOBODY UNDERSTANDS CHILDREN.” I grab for Brug Hild over my shoulder and my hand barely fits into its grip. “I COULD TRIP AND KILL MYSELF WITH THIS THING.” Immediately after making it the target of my impotent rage, I return it to its sheath, fumbling a bit to fit it properly into the sort of case’s opening.
I stop myself. “I guess it’s kinda nice to have something I’ve dreamed of having for years, but…” I ball my hands into fists, forcing myself to be angry again. “It’s STILL hilariously dangerous! No, NOT funny! Not hilarious! JUST DANGEROUS!”
I let out a deep, irritated yell for good measure. At this point I think I’m just working myself up, and… that’s working out for me, at least.
“And what the flying FUCK is the deal with this ‘sorcerer’ thing?!” I add, holding my hands out in front of me and trying to duplicate the effect I got earlier. A pair of blades, just like the ones I imagined - one silvery and the other black as night - form in my hands. “OH. GREAT. I CAN MAKE THINGS OUT OF NOTHING. THAT’S CUTE.” I toss the blades carelessly over my shoulders, producing a ball of Omnilium hastily afterwards.
“GUESS WHAT ELSE CAN DO THAT?!” I ask the void expanding seemingly infinitely in every direction.
Another deep, irritated yell. “WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT WATCHING AND WAITING, HUH?!” I shout at the sky, feeling like a complete and utter lunatic. “HAVING FUN YET?! ‘CAUSE AN ETERNITY OF THIS SHIT IS WHAT YOU SIGNED ON FOR, NAMELESS JACKASS!”
I curse a lot when I’m angry, I think as I look back at what I’ve said. Like, a lot a lot.
I half-groan, half-sigh as I produce my phone. I start to meander halfheartedly through the Dataverse as I walk. Messing around on the Internet usually solves my problems, and being in a void that makes absolutely zero sense where I should realistically not be getting service isn’t gonna stop me from flipping everything but the digital world my middle finger. Or fingers, plural, if I’m feeling particularly bothered and suddenly gain telekinetic powers.
I squint. “Something… about a challenge, huh…?” I mutter, flicking my eyes over a forum post. “Nexus… ‘somebody arrived’...”
I look up and my phone slips from my hand. My jaw drops. “...I have the distinct feeling I just walked into something I can’t walk out of.”
I roll my shoulders and kick my phone aside with my boot, which… feels distinctly different than it did earlier. And… the ground still feels farther from my head than it should, but that’s not worth worrying about right now. I waggle my fingers and sparks dance between them, flashing teal light. A pair of words boil in my throat and bubble out between my lips. “Trace on.”
The same blades - Kanshou and Bakuya, I recall - appear in my hands and I grasp at them through the subsiding magical electricity. Somehow, this all feels… familiar. Welcomed, almost warming, not excruciating like it had been.
“So what’s this about a challenge? I’ve got time to blow off some steam,” I remark, specifically to the mask and jacket-clad individual before me. There’s something unsettling about him, something I can’t quite put my finger on.
...Maybe it was the blade at his side, crackling with electricity and singing like a flock of birds. “I’ll just have to hope I can dodge that,” I add, shuddering a little. Still vivid memories of the mace to the chest remind me getting hit really hurts.
“I’m ready whenever you are, I guess. So unless you’re waiting for somebody or… something, I don’t know, we can just have at it.”
I make a mental note to think up some sort of fancy duel introduction quote, or at least one that sounds a little less stilted and uncomfortable. My black-bladed hand stands guard in front of me while my white-bladed hand hangs at my flank as I begin to play the waiting game.
“MAYBE,” I conclude, “I’M just being a DRAMA QUEEN. Okay. OKAY, MAYBE IT’S NORMAL FOR PEOPLE TO JUST CASUALLY GET THEIR RIBS SHATTERED.”
It’s not working.
Nope. Not concluding yet. “AND WHAT IS IT WITH PEOPLE AND GIVING RANDOM CHILDREN WEAPONS?! JEEZ, IT’S LIKE NOBODY UNDERSTANDS CHILDREN.” I grab for Brug Hild over my shoulder and my hand barely fits into its grip. “I COULD TRIP AND KILL MYSELF WITH THIS THING.” Immediately after making it the target of my impotent rage, I return it to its sheath, fumbling a bit to fit it properly into the sort of case’s opening.
I stop myself. “I guess it’s kinda nice to have something I’ve dreamed of having for years, but…” I ball my hands into fists, forcing myself to be angry again. “It’s STILL hilariously dangerous! No, NOT funny! Not hilarious! JUST DANGEROUS!”
I let out a deep, irritated yell for good measure. At this point I think I’m just working myself up, and… that’s working out for me, at least.
“And what the flying FUCK is the deal with this ‘sorcerer’ thing?!” I add, holding my hands out in front of me and trying to duplicate the effect I got earlier. A pair of blades, just like the ones I imagined - one silvery and the other black as night - form in my hands. “OH. GREAT. I CAN MAKE THINGS OUT OF NOTHING. THAT’S CUTE.” I toss the blades carelessly over my shoulders, producing a ball of Omnilium hastily afterwards.
“GUESS WHAT ELSE CAN DO THAT?!” I ask the void expanding seemingly infinitely in every direction.
Another deep, irritated yell. “WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT WATCHING AND WAITING, HUH?!” I shout at the sky, feeling like a complete and utter lunatic. “HAVING FUN YET?! ‘CAUSE AN ETERNITY OF THIS SHIT IS WHAT YOU SIGNED ON FOR, NAMELESS JACKASS!”
I curse a lot when I’m angry, I think as I look back at what I’ve said. Like, a lot a lot.
I half-groan, half-sigh as I produce my phone. I start to meander halfheartedly through the Dataverse as I walk. Messing around on the Internet usually solves my problems, and being in a void that makes absolutely zero sense where I should realistically not be getting service isn’t gonna stop me from flipping everything but the digital world my middle finger. Or fingers, plural, if I’m feeling particularly bothered and suddenly gain telekinetic powers.
I squint. “Something… about a challenge, huh…?” I mutter, flicking my eyes over a forum post. “Nexus… ‘somebody arrived’...”
I look up and my phone slips from my hand. My jaw drops. “...I have the distinct feeling I just walked into something I can’t walk out of.”
I roll my shoulders and kick my phone aside with my boot, which… feels distinctly different than it did earlier. And… the ground still feels farther from my head than it should, but that’s not worth worrying about right now. I waggle my fingers and sparks dance between them, flashing teal light. A pair of words boil in my throat and bubble out between my lips. “Trace on.”
The same blades - Kanshou and Bakuya, I recall - appear in my hands and I grasp at them through the subsiding magical electricity. Somehow, this all feels… familiar. Welcomed, almost warming, not excruciating like it had been.
“So what’s this about a challenge? I’ve got time to blow off some steam,” I remark, specifically to the mask and jacket-clad individual before me. There’s something unsettling about him, something I can’t quite put my finger on.
...Maybe it was the blade at his side, crackling with electricity and singing like a flock of birds. “I’ll just have to hope I can dodge that,” I add, shuddering a little. Still vivid memories of the mace to the chest remind me getting hit really hurts.
“I’m ready whenever you are, I guess. So unless you’re waiting for somebody or… something, I don’t know, we can just have at it.”
I make a mental note to think up some sort of fancy duel introduction quote, or at least one that sounds a little less stilted and uncomfortable. My black-bladed hand stands guard in front of me while my white-bladed hand hangs at my flank as I begin to play the waiting game.
Quote:Joline is currently in her 'adult' form, for reference. When in doubt, roster 'n that jazz.