Class has begun.
Name(s): Seifer, Toph, and anyone else who feels lucky
Location: Lakeside
Day: Day 5 (kinda)
Time: Midnight
Rating: PG-13
Standing near the lake while the moon reflected back to the sky, Seifer gazed outward to center himself and focus on harnessing the frustration of his time this year. The anger and the turmoil began to boil within him. The taped handle of the wooden model gunblade was being gripped more and more tenaciously. When he finally got hold of his demons, they began talking to him.
So stop it!...sad lump of meat…fire under your bed…you break my heart, Seifer…you’re getting worse by the second…foolishly arrogant pig…you need a new insult…
He stopped caring about Hyperion gathering dust at home. He only needed his own strength to carry him through. In the cadence of his boiling temper, he swung wildly with the grace of a fencer but the strength and speed of a gladiator. Though the wooden sword had an edge more akin to a cricket bat, he performed powerful low sweeps and cut tips of the cool grass. He flailed himself toward imaginary targets, holding back the urge to yell with each strike. Running toward a stagnant tree, he gritted his teeth in the heat of his intensity. He started wailing on the bark like a lumberjack, throwing full strength into it. Though he wasn’t aiming to, he still cut into the pulp with strokes that grew more destructive with each swing. It was a miracle the “plankblade” was still in one piece when he lowered it after a flurry of blows.
With gasps of air forming into steam, Seifer looked at the damage and shook his head. Not enough. He spiked the blade into the ground while he removed his coat and scabbard and tightened his gloves. After a few deep breaths, he drew it back into his hands and knew he wanted to try…the attack known as “No Mercy.”
He felt the air swirling around him into a deep burning red aura. He shook with his knuckles white under the gloves. He could pull off “No Mercy” if he just remains focused. Just needed serenity to destroy. Calm to break. Balance to wreck.
You’re darling…I’d thank you…If you need someone to chat with…my homeboy S…
The aura began dissipating and he lost his focus. It took a second for him to acknowledge it. “No, I was there…SHIT.” Chucking the blade down and laying on his back, the fatigue seeped back in. He couldn’t tell if it was because it was late, if he was sick, if he was changing…but what people said was getting to him in a way he didn’t expect. He didn’t like it. He had hoped this meeting with Toph would at least be a step in the right direction.
Location: Lakeside
Day: Day 5 (kinda)
Time: Midnight
Rating: PG-13
Standing near the lake while the moon reflected back to the sky, Seifer gazed outward to center himself and focus on harnessing the frustration of his time this year. The anger and the turmoil began to boil within him. The taped handle of the wooden model gunblade was being gripped more and more tenaciously. When he finally got hold of his demons, they began talking to him.
So stop it!...sad lump of meat…fire under your bed…you break my heart, Seifer…you’re getting worse by the second…foolishly arrogant pig…you need a new insult…
He stopped caring about Hyperion gathering dust at home. He only needed his own strength to carry him through. In the cadence of his boiling temper, he swung wildly with the grace of a fencer but the strength and speed of a gladiator. Though the wooden sword had an edge more akin to a cricket bat, he performed powerful low sweeps and cut tips of the cool grass. He flailed himself toward imaginary targets, holding back the urge to yell with each strike. Running toward a stagnant tree, he gritted his teeth in the heat of his intensity. He started wailing on the bark like a lumberjack, throwing full strength into it. Though he wasn’t aiming to, he still cut into the pulp with strokes that grew more destructive with each swing. It was a miracle the “plankblade” was still in one piece when he lowered it after a flurry of blows.
With gasps of air forming into steam, Seifer looked at the damage and shook his head. Not enough. He spiked the blade into the ground while he removed his coat and scabbard and tightened his gloves. After a few deep breaths, he drew it back into his hands and knew he wanted to try…the attack known as “No Mercy.”
He felt the air swirling around him into a deep burning red aura. He shook with his knuckles white under the gloves. He could pull off “No Mercy” if he just remains focused. Just needed serenity to destroy. Calm to break. Balance to wreck.
You’re darling…I’d thank you…If you need someone to chat with…my homeboy S…
The aura began dissipating and he lost his focus. It took a second for him to acknowledge it. “No, I was there…SHIT.” Chucking the blade down and laying on his back, the fatigue seeped back in. He couldn’t tell if it was because it was late, if he was sick, if he was changing…but what people said was getting to him in a way he didn’t expect. He didn’t like it. He had hoped this meeting with Toph would at least be a step in the right direction.