( open )

[accoutered]

Who: bishamonten and anyone who may also be training or would like to watch a former goddess Struggle
When: 06/11
Where: hall of glory courtyard
What: bishamon is trying to learn how to fight again in her new, fragile human body... and figure out wth is up with her weapon in the process. #thestruggleisreal #whatismana #dontskiplegday
Rating: potential for some violence, but otherwise should be alright!

(1) THE BORING KIND OF CARDIO »

[ anyone around the courtyard on this early morning may find themselves having to share the space with an overzealous hero in training... or someone with some serious anger management problems. (or both.)

situated to one side of the courtyard, on lush green grass and right beneath the shade of a large tree is bishamon, currently making full use of the wooden training dummy the keepers of the hall of glory had been kind enough to supply her. from the amount of sweat she's managed to work up (not to mention a good number of bruises already beginning to form along her hands, arms, and legs, and the blood caking along her knuckles) it's clear she's been at this for quite a while... and rather vigorously, too.

the style itself is not easily identifiable, less technique and more raw energy and skill. she strikes fast and hard and with no fear, as if completely unaware of her own limits (or, perhaps, unused to having them), but every now and then she will land a blow that has her flinching back in shock and pain. every time it happens she grits her teeth and seems to make a mental note, before striking the exact same spot with the exact same blow, again and again and again, until finally she does not flinch back in pain anymore.

it's a shame about that uniform, really. she had originally found the skirt impractical, but found it useful now in granting her more movement in the legs. the top, sadly, she had to be more creative with — needing the freedom of her arms, but not wanting to appear too indecent (some people come out there to eat, after all) she had to contend with simply unbutton the first couple of buttons and tying the sleeves around her chest like a wrap. unfortunately, not even these measures could withstand the brunt of all of her movements. of course, by the time she realizes the strain she's putting on the clothing, it's a little too late...

which is why, if you hadn't already approached her before this, she will stop you as you pass by, getting your attention with the wave of one (somewhat bloody) hand. ]

Excuse me — would you happen to know if there's a tailor around here?

(2) BANG BANG ALL OVER YOU »

[ is it just bishamon, or do those stuffed bears do unnervingly smug?

it's gotta be the eyebrows, or maybe it's the stitching along the muzzle. whatever the reason, bishamon decides she doesn't like them, and so doesn't feel even the slightest bit of guilt when she raises her weapon in the air, takes aim, and pulls—

and pulls.

and pulls and pulls and pulls and pulls and pullsandpullsandpULLSand ]

This is stupid!

[ WHY WOULD ANYONE ARM SOMEONE WITH A GUN THAT HAS NO BULLETS???

with a frustrated growl, bishamon chucks the offending weapon towards the bear to the farthest right, its blade embedding right in between its beady little eyes. ]

(3) HAKUNA MANA-TA »

[ or maybe you'll find her sitting by the canal that runs through the center of the courtyard, perched precariously close to the edge along one of the stone ledges that line it. she seems to be two seconds away from falling into the canal herself, what with how much she is leaning over it, but her full attention is drawn to the water itself, rather than her proximity to it.

anyone looking over will notice how intensely she is staring at the water's surface, her brows drawn together and lips pursed in an expression of utmost concentration. slowly, she raises a hand and after a moment of steeling herself, she gives her index finger a quick flick.

there is some slight lag time, but before long, even just the casual observer will notice a large droplet of water pop itself out from the water's surface and crash right into — well. probably your cheek. bishamon sits up suddenly, eyes wide with a look of utter shock and pride. sorry, innocent bystander, she'll feel bad about that in two seconds, just let her finish her mental victory dance.

SHE DID IT, SHE MAGICKED. ]

Comments

[penitents]

You'd be dead pretty quick.

[ He's agreeing with her observation, and while his tone isn't aggressive the words may sound caustic regardless. It's impossible for him to know exactly what kind of background she hails from. At a glance, it's hard to say, but at a glance Naruto looks like a fool and he's the strongest person Sasuke knows, so he reserves his judgement for the time being.

He folds the fabric napkin one-handed and tucks it into his pocket. ]

[accoutered]

[ the action earns a brief, distracted quirk of her brow. are you supposed to be taking those, sasuke... ]

It's that necessary, is it?

[ more a rhetorical question than an actual one, but she does pause long enough in mildly troubled thought for him to answer if he wanted to. her brow furrows, and lips purse in concentration once more as she attempts another flick of the finger...

but it does little more than ruffle an empty sleeve.

i'm not saying this goddess of war is pouting but i'm not not saying it either. ]

[penitents]

The other side is skilled in magic.

[ So, yes. It is.

It's taken Sasuke a month to get used to creating even the weakest spark of electricity, but he can sympathize with her impatience as he watches her try to work the mana again. ]

Do you understand how it feels yet?

[accoutered]

[ her brow furrows, and for a second she wonders if it's a trick question. of course it makes sense... but it's still such a strange phenomenon to her that she can only look on in confusion at first. ]

The mana?

[ she'd read about it, of course. that day in the library with ed, pouring over books about the intricacies of life here in this world. how mana works, theoretically. how mana signatures are unique.

she looks down at her hand, idly turning it over. she'd been so busy concentrating on trying to manipulate something that she hadn't really put much thought into the feeling that came with it. ]

I was under the assumption it felt different for everyone...

[penitents]

To use it effectively you need to understand how it feels. Mana is an extension of your body, you can hurt yourself and others if you aren't aware.

[ He sounds like he knows what he's talking about but only because mana is not so different from chakra in theory. Running out of chakra had similar effects, and while mana feels inherently different, knowing where the pool sits is important for manipulation. ]

How long have you been practicing today?

it almost looks like he's wearing a suit in that icon

[accoutered]

Hours, [ she murmurs somewhat sullenly. six, to be exact, and forty-two minutes. and still she hasn't much to show for it. (though, to be fair, some portion of that had been physical training as well.)

she can, of course, now recall reading as much in the texts she and ed had poured through that first day. she wishes now that they'd saved that for another day, when her mind hadn't been so riddled with the stress of the situation. perhaps then she could have digested it a bit better.

now, she knows about mana signatures. (has even experienced it first hand once, in a distant dream.) but she is only aware of it in a second-party sense. ]

What would you recommend, then? Meditation?

he's not that classy...

[penitents]

[ Hours, she says, which betrays enough. Whether she's wasted away a chunk of mana with those hours or not doesn't matter, even if the depletion is small it will get his point across. Normally, Sasuke wears a glove to wield his chokuto. He's yet to develop just how to get around this barrier outside of a drastic situation when mana exchange is required, so lifts his hand to his mouth to pull the glove off with his teeth from his wrist. Putting it in his pocket, he shifts his weight and offers her his bare hand. ]

When you know what to look for.

alas

[accoutered]

[ she knows what he means to accomplish even before he gets his words out. after all, even before waking up to find herself here, her first brush with mana signatures had started out (wish a kiss how did it end up like this) not unlike this: a bare hand held out in offer, the unspoken challenge of taking it, the uncertainty in whether taking it or not would be the wisest choice.

only this time there isn't the necessity brought on by a battle raging on overheard, or the pang of a bruised pride that did not sit well with a stranger thinking she were made uncomfortable by the idea.

that last bit is right, unfortunately, but somehow the utterly casual way with which this man presents the offer helps to soothe her ruffled feathers. it doesn't have to be a big deal if they don't make it a big deal, right? there is no weakness here — just a desire to learn.

and so (after perhaps way too long deliberating), bishamon follows suit in lifting her hand to his. his palm is warm. ]

[penitents]

[ His palm is warm, but his mana isn't. It's the still cool of a meadow at night, the sensation of anticipating something approaching and not knowing whether it's dangerous or not. His mana chases heat away, like stepping into a shadow. Sasuke watches her face, waiting.

He can feel the exchange himself. He's hardly expended anything today, and so has no need to be filled, but knowing what to look for he can feel the mana turn over under his skin. The pool of it shifting as her magic adds itself to his own, reinvigorating. ]

What do you feel?

[accoutered]

[ it had only been once, and then it had been in a dream (an all too real dream, but a dream nonetheless), but even so bishamon felt she knew what to expect the moment their energies began to sync. mana, in general, is still such a foreign concept to her, but when she clears her mind and allows the exchange to happen — there is a faint sense of familiarity about it.

as if it were some long-forgotten skill she were relearning.

for her part, she succumbs to the exercise entirely. lets her eyes close so that she may better focus and process. it is his mana that she feels first — certain and firm, much like the man himself. she feels the hairs on her back begin to stand, prompting a slight furrow along her brow, and for a moment she nearly pulls her hand away — the last mana she'd felt had given her the feeling of a meadow too, but it had been daylight then, wide and open and the winds were at her back, ruffling her hair, making her light. here, there is only the light of a distant moon, and the chill that clings to the air, knowing something is coming but not knowing where to turn or look, whether it would be wiser to stay or remain.

then like a ray of light through the cracks of heavy curtains on a quiet morning, she feels it — her own mana, pouring through as if to claim its home. and for those few moments, she suddenly feels home, there in the quiet stream behind her takamagahara complex, hidden from eyes that cannot help but ask too much of her, though she knows it is only her duty to provide.

with a breath, she allows herself to fully process the sensation. like stepping into a gentle stream in spring, the water cool at first, but quick to grow warm as one settles. here, in this quiet space, she is both bare but hidden, vulnerable but safe. ]