The flowing blade of the wind dragon
anonymous
March 3 2010, 10:46:33 UTC
My first fill! It's not very shippery, ugh… but you can see Liet/China if you squint.
It's a material art fill, for I read that Liet is practicing it. Set before he begun to practice (in my headcanon China thought him). I'm a material artist myself so I just couldn't pass the chance, so hope you will like it!
Also apologizing from the dept of my heart for any grammar mistakes or typos… I don’t know where to get a beta *emberresed*. ______________________________
China always felt old. But not the weak, wilting kind of old, no… He felt like an old three, his roots deep in the ground, his head up high above, and the wind in his long, swaying brunches. It filled him with calm and power, the touch of the life flowing into his body from the earth below his feet, and the spirit of inspiration from the sun above, filling him with the knowledge of the energy of the universe. He inhaled slowly; his body knew every movement and every breath, natural and effortless as thinking, flowing like water and wind, stable and calm like a mountain, yet soft…
He loved this time of day. Just as the sun raised above the horizon, when everybody else were still sleeping, and the dew on the grass yet to dry, it was his time. To ease his mind and let his aching body to find relaxation and solitude he rarely ever got during the day.
Since almost forever, that was his way. He woke up with the sun rise to practice the art of flowing energy, to help himself thought his countless inner-wars and straggles with enemies. It was his secret of life. He was never ripped apart even as his children killed each other, for he knew how to make harmony with himself, and his knowledge of the art of war helped him to fight off his enemies.
His feet moved, curving the warm feeling at the tips of his fingers, a familiar tickle of the joy that was being alive. For him, that was what life meant… he emptied his lungs, closing position and opening his eyes. It always felt so good to practice, even when he was far from home like now.
But when he turned to get his long Jian* to continue his morning practice, he noticed that someone was looking at him, standing a bit afar.
"Lithuania?"
The brown haired man looked startled and begun to apologize franticly. "I'm so sorry I disturbed you, Mr. China! I will go now-"
"Wait." China walked to him, his legs still moving the way of right stepping even without noticing it, "Please, if you will hand me my sword".
The flowing blade of the wind dragon- B
anonymous
March 3 2010, 10:50:52 UTC
The Lithuanian picked the sword up with fear in his eyes, shaking a bit as he handed the beautiful war tool in its craved sheath to China, adoring the fine artwork of the haft shaped as a dragon claw. China took the sword and smiled to calm the other man down, "Don't fear. It has been long since this sword was used for anything but practice." China took a minute to look at his long treasured possession. "It has been mine for thousand of years now…"
"It's beautiful." Noted Lithuania, looking as the pale, long fingers of the Chinese man caressed the dragon on the sheath, Jams and fine shining black color on the wood against knowing figures. "It was kept very well".
"This sword is like a friend to me. I know it as if it was part of my body." Answered china seriously, drawing it smoothly out, balancing it in his palm, grip he knew before the man in front of him was even born. "You may keep on watching, if so you desire."
Putting the sheath on the ground, China turned back to where he was standing before; the flute surfers of his sword pressed to the back of his arm, and let his body do the thing he knew how to do without even thinking of it. His mind sunk back to the inner concentration he was at before, aware to every single movement- as his sword flowed gently. He knew where was every single part of it was- from tip, to the angle of the blade and its position, like he said- his Jian was part of him, an extension of his arms, and his mind controlled it absolutely.
Lithuania stood amazed, looking as the black haired man moving, craving and flowing completely with his sword. Neither force nor effort were visible, the movements of the sword precise and accurate. There were no large swings, nor and sharp movements- only the tilting of the thin blade and its sharp tip shown. It was like a dance more then what Lithuania, which used to be quit found of swordsmanship at the time-, knew as the art of using a sword. It captured his eyes with awe and wonder. How can those soft, gentle movements be useful in a fight?
But it was beautiful none the less, just like the practice that caught his eyes in the first place. It was a breathtaking sight, the almost unbelievable balance and accuracy- even when the Chinese stood on one leg, his hands moved, yet his torso didn't.
He was almost sad when China stood up and ended his practice, turning back to him- as he handed the sheath forward to its owner.
"Did you enjoy watching this?" asked China as he re-sheathed the sword, and Lithuania nodded.
"It was unlike anything I have ever seen." He blushed a bit; thinking of how ungraceful was his form of handling a sword- the one he used to be so proud of once upon a time, compared to this. China smiled softly, tapping the younger nation's shoulder.
"I know you think it didn't look much like fighting."
"Not at all- I mean, it did look like…" Lithuania begun to object, but the look in China's eyes made him lose his voice.
"I know when people lie to me, young man…" Lithuania stiffened and backed up a bit. China laughed. "Don't fear. It's only natural for you to think that way. You are still so young, after all… But when the body begins to grow weak- you learn how to fight without wasting any energy. That's the way of my art of war, and the sword is no different."
"I… don't really understand…"
China's smile didn't change. "You will if you'll grow old enough."
______________________________
*Jian - also known as "Tai-Chi sword" is an ancient Chinese weapon that was used by high-ranked shoulders. It's a striate, double- bladed light sword, and its form of using is very flowing, and soft-looking yet very effective- and difficult to perform correctly.
A.N: I described the soft, more inner side of Chinese material arts, because the inner styles are really cool (and complicated!). Outer styles (kung-fu) and combined styles are awesome, but I don't know the English names of the forms, the Chinese names are confusing even me when written in English, and blind-idiot-translation of most sounds simply stupid… So I tried to avoid any. Sorry it's so short.
It's a material art fill, for I read that Liet is practicing it. Set before he begun to practice (in my headcanon China thought him). I'm a material artist myself so I just couldn't pass the chance, so hope you will like it!
Also apologizing from the dept of my heart for any grammar mistakes or typos… I don’t know where to get a beta *emberresed*.
______________________________
China always felt old. But not the weak, wilting kind of old, no… He felt like an old three, his roots deep in the ground, his head up high above, and the wind in his long, swaying brunches. It filled him with calm and power, the touch of the life flowing into his body from the earth below his feet, and the spirit of inspiration from the sun above, filling him with the knowledge of the energy of the universe. He inhaled slowly; his body knew every movement and every breath, natural and effortless as thinking, flowing like water and wind, stable and calm like a mountain, yet soft…
He loved this time of day. Just as the sun raised above the horizon, when everybody else were still sleeping, and the dew on the grass yet to dry, it was his time. To ease his mind and let his aching body to find relaxation and solitude he rarely ever got during the day.
Since almost forever, that was his way. He woke up with the sun rise to practice the art of flowing energy, to help himself thought his countless inner-wars and straggles with enemies. It was his secret of life. He was never ripped apart even as his children killed each other, for he knew how to make harmony with himself, and his knowledge of the art of war helped him to fight off his enemies.
His feet moved, curving the warm feeling at the tips of his fingers, a familiar tickle of the joy that was being alive. For him, that was what life meant… he emptied his lungs, closing position and opening his eyes. It always felt so good to practice, even when he was far from home like now.
But when he turned to get his long Jian* to continue his morning practice, he noticed that someone was looking at him, standing a bit afar.
"Lithuania?"
The brown haired man looked startled and begun to apologize franticly. "I'm so sorry I disturbed you, Mr. China! I will go now-"
"Wait." China walked to him, his legs still moving the way of right stepping even without noticing it, "Please, if you will hand me my sword".
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The Lithuanian picked the sword up with fear in his eyes, shaking a bit as he handed the beautiful war tool in its craved sheath to China, adoring the fine artwork of the haft shaped as a dragon claw. China took the sword and smiled to calm the other man down, "Don't fear. It has been long since this sword was used for anything but practice." China took a minute to look at his long treasured possession. "It has been mine for thousand of years now…"
"It's beautiful." Noted Lithuania, looking as the pale, long fingers of the Chinese man caressed the dragon on the sheath, Jams and fine shining black color on the wood against knowing figures. "It was kept very well".
"This sword is like a friend to me. I know it as if it was part of my body." Answered china seriously, drawing it smoothly out, balancing it in his palm, grip he knew before the man in front of him was even born. "You may keep on watching, if so you desire."
Putting the sheath on the ground, China turned back to where he was standing before; the flute surfers of his sword pressed to the back of his arm, and let his body do the thing he knew how to do without even thinking of it. His mind sunk back to the inner concentration he was at before, aware to every single movement- as his sword flowed gently. He knew where was every single part of it was- from tip, to the angle of the blade and its position, like he said- his Jian was part of him, an extension of his arms, and his mind controlled it absolutely.
Lithuania stood amazed, looking as the black haired man moving, craving and flowing completely with his sword. Neither force nor effort were visible, the movements of the sword precise and accurate. There were no large swings, nor and sharp movements- only the tilting of the thin blade and its sharp tip shown. It was like a dance more then what Lithuania, which used to be quit found of swordsmanship at the time-, knew as the art of using a sword. It captured his eyes with awe and wonder. How can those soft, gentle movements be useful in a fight?
But it was beautiful none the less, just like the practice that caught his eyes in the first place. It was a breathtaking sight, the almost unbelievable balance and accuracy- even when the Chinese stood on one leg, his hands moved, yet his torso didn't.
He was almost sad when China stood up and ended his practice, turning back to him- as he handed the sheath forward to its owner.
"Did you enjoy watching this?" asked China as he re-sheathed the sword, and Lithuania nodded.
"It was unlike anything I have ever seen." He blushed a bit; thinking of how ungraceful was his form of handling a sword- the one he used to be so proud of once upon a time, compared to this. China smiled softly, tapping the younger nation's shoulder.
"I know you think it didn't look much like fighting."
"Not at all- I mean, it did look like…" Lithuania begun to object, but the look in China's eyes made him lose his voice.
"I know when people lie to me, young man…" Lithuania stiffened and backed up a bit. China laughed. "Don't fear. It's only natural for you to think that way. You are still so young, after all… But when the body begins to grow weak- you learn how to fight without wasting any energy. That's the way of my art of war, and the sword is no different."
"I… don't really understand…"
China's smile didn't change. "You will if you'll grow old enough."
______________________________
*Jian - also known as "Tai-Chi sword" is an ancient Chinese weapon that was used by high-ranked shoulders. It's a striate, double- bladed light sword, and its form of using is very flowing, and soft-looking yet very effective- and difficult to perform correctly.
A.N: I described the soft, more inner side of Chinese material arts, because the inner styles are really cool (and complicated!). Outer styles (kung-fu) and combined styles are awesome, but I don't know the English names of the forms, the Chinese names are confusing even me when written in English, and blind-idiot-translation of most sounds simply stupid… So I tried to avoid any. Sorry it's so short.
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