[CLOSED]
Who: Priscilla (honorablesecond, Senji (clawofsin) and maybe Isley (swordofthenorth) later on.
When: ...sometime during the sea monster attack.
Where: Southern monster flank!
Format: ACTIONZ.
What: Hey, it's the first time they've seen each other since they split up. How could we not log it?
Warnings: ...sea monsters? IDK.
[Once, long ago, Priscilla's handler (whose name she no longer recalls) had told her that war must be her calling. She was perhaps 12, perhaps 13 at that time - small and thin and already terrifying. Or they said. Still, she hadn't quite understood it. To her, at that time, her calling was in protection and revenge. War, that was just a tool - a means to wipe out the yoma, every one of them. A means to keep any other girl from having to pick up that axe.]
[Hate and love. Those things, they were her callings, then.]
[But now she understands, all these years later. Because with her blade in hand, that massive creature's tendrils curling over the entire area, surrounded by her comrades, her subordinates of a sort, her allies, she feels oddly at peace. Her mind clear, her attention focused - all those troubles, conflicts, vanished into the sea, over the horizon, into the mist.]
[Maybe this is what a calling is. That feeling of certainty, that calm. The knowledge that even now, confused and hurt as she has been, she can find solace in the swinging of a blade.]
[She finds solace, also, in the certainty of her cause. This thing, its unambiguous malevolence. She calls it a monster in her head as she cuts through a mass of tentacles; she shuts out the part of her mind that tells her that even now she is fighting beside a monster. That man whose yoki threatens to drown her even now as he lingers near - never too close, but never far away. She's grown used to his energy now, knows its feel, its intensity. She's almost numb to it, really. Almost.]
[Strange.]
[Her blade flashes silver through the dark, and a tentacle falls. In the distance, that thing shrieks - at her blow, or at someone else's. Maybe at the accumulation of pains. The lost limbs, the cuts, the piercing blades.]
[Not that it hasn't struck back.]
[She hears the groan of breaking rock, shattering wooden columns, just an instant before she sees the building beside her collapse. It crumbles into rubble, and she swings her blade to chop the pieces nearby her apart. They fall into pebbles around her even as she holds a toppling column above her head with her fingertips. Her much extended fingertips. A little gift from Riful, one could say.]
[Isley has disappeared behind the broken stone, but she knows he's safe - would know it even if she couldn't feel that energy still choking her. And in the end, he isn't the one who gets her attention, or breaks her from her battle serenity.]
Senji?
[She recognizes that crimson blade - how could she not. Nearly a year of seeing him every day, walking the ruins with him, fighting beside him. And then, eight months (seven months? She doesn't know where to start counting) of his smiles, his heart. Two and a half months of admitting to him that she loved him. Fifteen days since she saw him every day. Five of never seeing him at all.]
[Her heart skips, her chest is tight.]
[She pulls her fingers together, and breaks the column into shards, batting back the inconvenient chunks with her blade, and a split second later, she emerges from the settling dust and drops in front of him as though she fell from the sky.]
I didn't think I'd see you. I mean. I knew you'd be here, but...
[She can't help a little smile.]
When: ...sometime during the sea monster attack.
Where: Southern monster flank!
Format: ACTIONZ.
What: Hey, it's the first time they've seen each other since they split up. How could we not log it?
Warnings: ...sea monsters? IDK.
[Once, long ago, Priscilla's handler (whose name she no longer recalls) had told her that war must be her calling. She was perhaps 12, perhaps 13 at that time - small and thin and already terrifying. Or they said. Still, she hadn't quite understood it. To her, at that time, her calling was in protection and revenge. War, that was just a tool - a means to wipe out the yoma, every one of them. A means to keep any other girl from having to pick up that axe.]
[Hate and love. Those things, they were her callings, then.]
[But now she understands, all these years later. Because with her blade in hand, that massive creature's tendrils curling over the entire area, surrounded by her comrades, her subordinates of a sort, her allies, she feels oddly at peace. Her mind clear, her attention focused - all those troubles, conflicts, vanished into the sea, over the horizon, into the mist.]
[Maybe this is what a calling is. That feeling of certainty, that calm. The knowledge that even now, confused and hurt as she has been, she can find solace in the swinging of a blade.]
[She finds solace, also, in the certainty of her cause. This thing, its unambiguous malevolence. She calls it a monster in her head as she cuts through a mass of tentacles; she shuts out the part of her mind that tells her that even now she is fighting beside a monster. That man whose yoki threatens to drown her even now as he lingers near - never too close, but never far away. She's grown used to his energy now, knows its feel, its intensity. She's almost numb to it, really. Almost.]
[Strange.]
[Her blade flashes silver through the dark, and a tentacle falls. In the distance, that thing shrieks - at her blow, or at someone else's. Maybe at the accumulation of pains. The lost limbs, the cuts, the piercing blades.]
[Not that it hasn't struck back.]
[She hears the groan of breaking rock, shattering wooden columns, just an instant before she sees the building beside her collapse. It crumbles into rubble, and she swings her blade to chop the pieces nearby her apart. They fall into pebbles around her even as she holds a toppling column above her head with her fingertips. Her much extended fingertips. A little gift from Riful, one could say.]
[Isley has disappeared behind the broken stone, but she knows he's safe - would know it even if she couldn't feel that energy still choking her. And in the end, he isn't the one who gets her attention, or breaks her from her battle serenity.]
Senji?
[She recognizes that crimson blade - how could she not. Nearly a year of seeing him every day, walking the ruins with him, fighting beside him. And then, eight months (seven months? She doesn't know where to start counting) of his smiles, his heart. Two and a half months of admitting to him that she loved him. Fifteen days since she saw him every day. Five of never seeing him at all.]
[Her heart skips, her chest is tight.]
[She pulls her fingers together, and breaks the column into shards, batting back the inconvenient chunks with her blade, and a split second later, she emerges from the settling dust and drops in front of him as though she fell from the sky.]
I didn't think I'd see you. I mean. I knew you'd be here, but...
[She can't help a little smile.]