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shrimp
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what? [lyndis\\blitz] Dec 30, 2015 23:24:44 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Dec 30, 2015 23:24:44 GMT -5

A N I S E H I M U R A

There aren't many trees in District 2; it's mostly mountains and boulders that decorate the area. But the untouched land is ripe for practicing her swordsmanship on natural terrain.

Slightly panting, Anise makes her way up the hillside towards her training spot, nothing but her sword, a small bottle of water and some granola to keep her company. Her mind is empty, autopilot dragging her towards the destination. She's been here before, her ballet-flat clad feet know each rock on this pathway. Soon, she's at the clearing, a spotting of trees dot the area, coated with a blanket of soft grass.

She stretches, cracks her neck. The sun's rising just over the mountaintop, engulfing her world in pastel roses, golds and oranges. Anise regards it for a moment before jumping into practice, grabbing her wooden sword and practicing her forms. Movements, of sort, as she dances with two hands on the hilt, parrying and thrusting towards imaginary enemies. Perhaps one day they won't be so fake (but she doubts it. Fate has other plans).

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Lyn𝛿is
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does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker? ✯

what? [lyndis\\blitz] Dec 30, 2015 23:41:54 GMT -5

Post by Lyn𝛿is on Dec 30, 2015 23:41:54 GMT -5

Augustine Lin

The weather is beautiful today, the pale blue of the sky gently fading into soft hues the color of roses and marigolds and bright beams of sunlight piercing the cold air. Bright, five-pointed lilies lead the path to my favorite clearing; hopefully the fresh air and being away from my rambunctious younger cousins will clear my mind and get my muse going again.

When I reach the clearing, though, there's already someone there, her movements graceful and dance-like as she moves as if as one with her sword. I have never been coordinated enough to do well in training, but watching her is mesmerizing; it would be a beautiful work of art if I didn't know that most likely she was training to kill others in the Games.

I take out my notebook and sit down at the edge of the clearing, well out of her way, and begin to jot down a few notes.

"Yeah… You have to be careful when placing labels on good and evil, Celice. Never waste your anger on individuals. Always focus it on the evil within all of us."
- Lewyn, Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War

shrimp
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what? [lyndis\\blitz] Dec 31, 2015 0:25:20 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Dec 31, 2015 0:25:20 GMT -5

A N I S E H I M U R A

The steps have been cemented into her brain from years of rigorous practice, from her father pointing out every flaw, from her sisters glaring at her as she finally perfects it. Except of course, nothing is ever perfect. She can work tirelessly without sleep for decades and it won't be perfect. Something's always off. Some twist of the hip, a sword not gripped tightly enough, or gripped far too much for it to flow. Without randomness, she supposes the world isn't their world.

Still though, it means she's not good enough. There's a scratching to her right that's making her lose concentration, and one of the swords swoops a little too sideways. Who is this asshole? She turns, stares at the boy with hair as long as hers, jotting down who knows what onto his notbook. Stop. She stares at him for a good ten seconds before turning back to her art. He's nothing, just a bug she can step on if need be. But she can't focus, and soon she stops and grabs her water, gulping it down as she gives an icy stare to the boy.

"What do you want?" she asks as she transitions to sips, sword in her left hand.

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