[CLOSED] Asch and Susumu
WHO: Asch the Bloody, Susumu
WHAT: Asch may or may not make a friend.
WHERE: On a (mostly) empty street, just outside Asch's current place of lonely residence, with room enough for practice.
WHEN: Dinnertime.
Asch had been at it for three days. Because of Van, perhaps; because Van had always told him to do something right if he did it at all, and because no matter what he did or how hard he fought or how loud he shouted, he was always going to be Van's student, without any ties to anyone else. He'd severed them all surely as the replica had severed himself from the past by cutting off his hair.
Maybe some things, though, weren't so easy to get rid of.
Asch had been at it for three days and his hands were blistering. He couldn't sleep, he barely ate, and his limbs were weak, as though they were no longer entirely his. His sword sparked and flashed with promise and then was dark. There was nothing here for him to latch on to; everything he was searching for was far, far away.
But you had to do something right if you were going to do it at all. Asch could hear the words; he was no longer sure who drove him on now, who held the whip. He wiped the sweat from his brow, assumed the stance. It was easier now, more natural than breathing.
WHAT: Asch may or may not make a friend.
WHERE: On a (mostly) empty street, just outside Asch's current place of lonely residence, with room enough for practice.
WHEN: Dinnertime.
Asch had been at it for three days. Because of Van, perhaps; because Van had always told him to do something right if he did it at all, and because no matter what he did or how hard he fought or how loud he shouted, he was always going to be Van's student, without any ties to anyone else. He'd severed them all surely as the replica had severed himself from the past by cutting off his hair.
Maybe some things, though, weren't so easy to get rid of.
Asch had been at it for three days and his hands were blistering. He couldn't sleep, he barely ate, and his limbs were weak, as though they were no longer entirely his. His sword sparked and flashed with promise and then was dark. There was nothing here for him to latch on to; everything he was searching for was far, far away.
But you had to do something right if you were going to do it at all. Asch could hear the words; he was no longer sure who drove him on now, who held the whip. He wiped the sweat from his brow, assumed the stance. It was easier now, more natural than breathing.