(no subject)
Making a little playlist, for no particular theme, and I might have it up sometime tommorow. :D Expect Sun Kil Moon, Collide, and a little Muse.
I wrote this little Lee drabble thing about half a month ago, and it's really only today I feel confident enough to post it. XD
I know I've shown it to a couple of you, and it's what I put up for my application to theselostdreams, but here it is for those of you who haven't seen it.
Because it's me, it's all about my dearest Lee.
---
Lee threw his heart and soul into everything he did, no matter how small. Training was and never would be an exception. It was both his outlet and his hobby, and in his opinion, there were few things more gratifying than the tired, heavy feeling after an arduous day's work.
Perhaps it was because he held back so much everywhere else. Polite and gracious to a fault, the ever-patient and mild-mannered Rock Lee was the very picture of a gentleman, albeit one in legwarmers. He'd heard almost every insult in the book hurled his way, had been through times when only he was left believing in himself, and he took everything in stride, because one day, everyone would see that he would live up to his shinobi way. And what could they say then?
But when he fought, when he trained, he didn't feel like the stuffy, awkward teenager he was so often. Out on the training grounds and the battlefield, he shined, each movement precise, skillful and with a brutal sort of grace that was certainly not expected of the jumpsuit-clad boy. He felt confident and important, valuable to both his teammates and his beloved teacher.
Out on a field filled with death and broken bones and sharp things trying to lodge themselves in him every moment, Lee felt alive, felt his veins singing out in ecstacy unrivaled as he sent kick after punch after deadly forbidden technique. He was free out there, six years of nothing but hard work and sweat, determination and daily training that wore him out to exhaustion guiding his movements. He felt like the beautiful green beast he so often proclaimed himself to be.
And when it was all over, when he was too tired to train or the fight was over, he'd slip back into himself, into that strange, polite, and cheerful boy everyone thought they knew. A scant few would suspect the skills he had, all wrapped up in a bowl cut and a nice-guy pose, but sooner or later, they would all learn. Because if Gai-sensei had taught him anything at all, it was that people often failed to expect the unexpected.
I wrote this little Lee drabble thing about half a month ago, and it's really only today I feel confident enough to post it. XD
I know I've shown it to a couple of you, and it's what I put up for my application to theselostdreams, but here it is for those of you who haven't seen it.
Because it's me, it's all about my dearest Lee.
---
Lee threw his heart and soul into everything he did, no matter how small. Training was and never would be an exception. It was both his outlet and his hobby, and in his opinion, there were few things more gratifying than the tired, heavy feeling after an arduous day's work.
Perhaps it was because he held back so much everywhere else. Polite and gracious to a fault, the ever-patient and mild-mannered Rock Lee was the very picture of a gentleman, albeit one in legwarmers. He'd heard almost every insult in the book hurled his way, had been through times when only he was left believing in himself, and he took everything in stride, because one day, everyone would see that he would live up to his shinobi way. And what could they say then?
But when he fought, when he trained, he didn't feel like the stuffy, awkward teenager he was so often. Out on the training grounds and the battlefield, he shined, each movement precise, skillful and with a brutal sort of grace that was certainly not expected of the jumpsuit-clad boy. He felt confident and important, valuable to both his teammates and his beloved teacher.
Out on a field filled with death and broken bones and sharp things trying to lodge themselves in him every moment, Lee felt alive, felt his veins singing out in ecstacy unrivaled as he sent kick after punch after deadly forbidden technique. He was free out there, six years of nothing but hard work and sweat, determination and daily training that wore him out to exhaustion guiding his movements. He felt like the beautiful green beast he so often proclaimed himself to be.
And when it was all over, when he was too tired to train or the fight was over, he'd slip back into himself, into that strange, polite, and cheerful boy everyone thought they knew. A scant few would suspect the skills he had, all wrapped up in a bowl cut and a nice-guy pose, but sooner or later, they would all learn. Because if Gai-sensei had taught him anything at all, it was that people often failed to expect the unexpected.