H B ɪsʜᴀᴍᴏɴᴛᴇɴ I C (
accoutered) wrote in
pawnstorm2016-06-11 06:37 pm
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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.
]
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 »
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 »
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 »
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.

no subject
she'd been working tirelessly on it, hours dragging on and on as she stood before an array of noir-dressed teddy bears, all just waiting for her to finally get around to it. but all she has managed, thus far, are a few bursts of wind and energy that propel her backward. nothing tangible yet, nothing resembling what it should.
she's tired by the time the illusions appear. so much so that for a while she'd been convinced she'd fallen asleep somehow and is dreaming. it has to be the only explanation for why she'd see him now, looking just as he had in another dream, only there were... four of him...
warily, she takes a step back, feeling her nerves rise in tension. she hears that same voice quadrupled and taunting, and before she knows it she's raining her gun-blade towards one, teeth grit.
it's just a dream, right? so none of it counts. ]
Be quiet, [ she hisses. ] What are you even saying?
no subject
Almost immediately, the song stops, the illusions *poof* into thin air, and he turns around towards the sound of that voice.
He finds himself face-to-face with a hero, her appearance familiar and unfamiliar all at once. His eyes widen, and he approaches curiously, cautiously. ] Huh? Is it really you? [ It wouldn't be the first time a dream has become reality, but never has a distant memory suddenly become so vivid. ] Bishamonten?
[ He can even place a name to her. It's odd, and a little unsettling. ]
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this man again... why does she keep seeing him? ]
...are you real?
[ she asks as if in warning, as if a wrong answer might prompt her to pull that trigger again, and finally let loose the bullet she's been trying for this whole time. ]
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Except he's often guilty of whatever he's being accused of, so this tactic rarely works... ]
Believe me, this is just as weird for you as it is for me!
[ He smiles, bright and easy, hiding the anxiety that comes with having a weapon pointed at him. ]
But I can't complain-- it's not every day that I meet the literal woman of my dreams. This may just be fate. [ Maybe it's best to just shoot him tbh. ]
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at once, both her gun arm and her expression falls, lips flattening into something considerably unimpressed. ]
I think I preferred your clones — they made far more sense.
[ still, as jarring as it is to meet another person from her dreams... there is something rather comforting about it, as well. even if it weren't real, in that dream, they had connected...
she wonders, briefly, if it still counts. ]
no subject
[ He zeroes in on that part, because it's a common occurrence to be scolded (although always enjoyable), but does that mean-- ]
My clones?! Did it actually work?! You saw my duplicates, Bishamon-chan?! [ While she may look unimpressed, he looks... so hopeful, and actually grabs her shoulders in excitement. ]
no subject
and by properly i mean violently. ]
H-How could I not, the four of them had me surrounded!
[ she finally gets it in her head that she doesn't actually have to stand for this, and reaches up with her free hand to grab one of his fingers
and twist. ]
Let go of me—!
no subject
[ It's definitely Jae-ha's fault for getting too handsy and presumptuous, even if it was merely out of excitement and happiness. He has a tendency to get too familiar too soon, and the sentence goes unfinished as pain surges from his finger to the very base of his spine. Her grip is strong, and surprisingly intense!
He finds himself lowering more and more with each twist, until he ends up on his knees in front of her, his hand now limp in her hold. His composure seems to have broken down completely, but rather than crying out in pain, he whimpers and lowers his gaze to the ground submissively. ]
Aaahh... You're just as I remember. So cruel... so beautiful.
no subject
besides... he had done her a great favor back then, hadn't he? she owes him for that, doesn't she?
though it's probably best to make sure it hadn't all just been a delusion.
though she doesn't release his finger, she does at least loosen her grip so that it should no longer pain him. she then leans down till their faces are inches apart, merely so she can hiss under his breath: ]
...what exactly do you remember.
no subject
Despite his... erm... dramatic reaction to her backlash, when he looks back up to meet her gaze (though he remains on the ground, since she seems perfectly fine with keeping him there...), he seriously deliberates her question, pursing his lips thoughtfully. ]
There was some sort of battle going on above ground... we were fighting Noir soldiers, but the details of why and where are a little hazy. [ And visibly, he's annoyed by the fact that he can't recall what should be important details to this scenario. He wouldn't just forget an important battle like that. He remembers each one vividly, down to every injury inflicted and received. ]
In this dream, though, we met underground, where the civilians were being kept safe. We both needed to recover from the battle, I think. Does any of this ring a bell?
no subject
but despite that comfort, his confirmation only provides her with more questions. how is it possible that they had shared such a dream together? how could it have felt so real?
and how much does any of it, if at all, count? ]
...you had helped me, then.
[ sure, the circumstances were a little... questionable... but that's something deserving of thanks! ... isn't it?? ]
no subject
[ As soon as he says it, he remembers how little she had liked being called such. The realization makes his eyes widen, and he looks apologetic as he tries to stand back up. ]
Ahaha, sorry. Bishamon-chan. [ Like that's any better?! ]
no subject
...indirectly.. thank you.......
whatever! the point is, don't dismiss her words by parrying them right back at her, how dare you.
she straightens up too when he does, even going so far as to take a jerky step back to grant them more distance. ]
If you insist on honorifics, at least use the proper one.
[ call me -sama, peasant. ]
no subject
Who knows what actually happened, if anything, and why their memories were so in sync. ]
Forgive me, then. What do you prefer? Am I in the presence of royalty?
[ He should have known, since she carried herself with so much grace... ]
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she has been burned before... ]
Does your world have religion?
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[ He leaves it at that, however, even if his existence is living proof that they're more than just legends. He's asking about her, and he's interested, even as she pulls further away. ]
no subject
This dragon god... He is a protector?
no subject
Still, he continues, lightly dusting himself off after being on the floor. ]
His name was Hiryuu, and he descended from the heavens and took on a human form to rule the kingdom of Kouka. He was said to be a kind, benevolent ruler, but humans, being greedy for power, forgot about their God and turned against him.
[ He clears his throat, wondering if he should continue, and decides to go ahead, since he's already gone down this path. ]
His dragon brothers begged him to destroy the humans for losing their faith against the gods and return to heaven, but Hiryuu refused. He had come to love humans for what they were, and because he himself was human now, couldn't leave them.
The four gods respected and understood Hiryuu's decision, but they couldn't bear to lose him. They gave their power and blood to four human warriors, and told them they were to protect and never betray Hiryuu, and to stay with him to the very end.
Hiryuu is long gone, but some say his spirit is reincarnated, and that this person is fated to rid Kouka of evil. [ LIKE, Y'KNOW... IN YONA....... For a split second, he looks a little sad. ]
As for the current dragon warriors, they aren't the original four warriors, but descendants, I suppose. [ Except for Zeno, but that's a little more complicated, and he's already chattered Bishamon's ear off. He tilts his head, switching his tone from serious back to lighthearted. ]
They still roam the land, meeting beautiful women from their dreams, or so I've heard.
1/2
that this god had had that kind of power... to live and breathe among humans. indeed — to love at all.
slowly, she works back a sudden knot in her throat, feeling the air around them suddenly too thick. ]
jk 2/?
3/?
4/5
did he just—
surely he can't mean— ]
5/5
1/2
Jae-ha's smile wilts, and he lowers himself into a bow before her, much more formal than their initial greeting. ]
Ryokuryuu, the Green Dragon, at your service.
no subject
[ Still beautiful, still cruel? ]
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