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Fandom: Naruto
Character: Yamanaka Ino
Theme: Mind-eraser
Fingers raked sweat-damp platinum hair from her forehead, pulling the slant-cut fringe to tuck it behind her ear and allow a better view from eyes the colour of pale cornflowers. Gritting her teeth, the shapely girl folded her hands in front of her, fingers curving into the familiar shapes and contortions of the seals.
Chakra swirled, compressed and formed as she bent it to her will, twisted the energy into the form she wanted before sending it soaring out from her in a tightly knitted beam. Blonde eyebrows drew together in concentration as she watched the sparrow in the cage, it's shiny black eyes regarding her as the bird twitched it's wings, ruffling feathers.
Like a kite soaring on a gentle updraft, she felt herself lift, felt the part of her that was her, that was Yamanaka Ino, seperate and pull away, propelled towards the small creature with only a thin and tremulous thread linking her to the body that she knew belonged to her. A moment's discomfort, the sensation akin to that of slipping your whole body into a glove that didn't quite fit, and then eyes that were hers and yet were not hers blinked. The head turned as those same eyes shifted to regard the much larger form that now slumped across the table, long platinum hair spilling over the polished wood like spun cornsilk.
One minute. Then two, the seconds ticking by like hours as she opened one wing, than the other, feeling the stress eating away at the edges of her psyche, the firm grip of her mind wavering as chakra was spent and used, slipping away like sand through an hourglass. Another minute as she made the small form turn around and wave it's tail, and then there was a chaotic roil of colour and sensation as she felt her spectral self tumble back to it's fleshy prison.
Shaking slightly, sweat beading on her brow, Ino pushed shaky arms under herself, levering her torso from the tabletop to fix a frustrated gaze on the cage. Not enough, still not enough. Trembling with the mere effort of standing, the girl drew her hands together, working through the familiar seals. More. She had to give it more, to push harder and harder, stretch her skills beyond their limits.
It wasn't about Sakura, not about any sort of rivalry the two had once shared or any sort of need to prove to the masses what she was capable of. She didn't need to prove anything to them. She was a Yamanaka. Her clan had served for generations, using their skills for interrogation and subterfuge. Leaping into the mind of another was only the beginning. If she wanted, she could use another's eyes, another's ears, touch with another's hands. She could push them, force them, send them careening over the edge of a cliff or straight into the path of a kunai, releasing their captive mind just before that one moment of death that would drag her down with it.
Her father could twist a mind, selectively finding and extracting memories as needed as part of an interrogation, breaking through thick corrugated mental shields as if they were no more than tissue paper to reach for the treasures held inside. In fact, it was said that the most powerful of the mind-reading clan could even steal memories away, erasing entire sections of someone's lives.
Mind-erasers. A frightening concept to some, a lofty goal to others.
Even so, that wasn't her goal. Not acquisition, not of that sort. No, it was the sense of loss that drove her. The memory of her sensei's death, as she tried in vain to heal wounds she knew were beyond her level. The bitter sting and the sour taste that had risen in her throat when, upon their journey towards revenge, she'd been brushed aside. Told by her own teammate to stay back and not fight.
It hadn't mattered what Shikamaru's reasoning had been, nor that whatever his plans, they had proven right. What mattered was that her skills hadn't been enough. But she would change that. And maybe, next time... she wouldn't be in the way.
Fandom: Naruto
Character: Yamanaka Ino
Theme: Mind-eraser
Fingers raked sweat-damp platinum hair from her forehead, pulling the slant-cut fringe to tuck it behind her ear and allow a better view from eyes the colour of pale cornflowers. Gritting her teeth, the shapely girl folded her hands in front of her, fingers curving into the familiar shapes and contortions of the seals.
Chakra swirled, compressed and formed as she bent it to her will, twisted the energy into the form she wanted before sending it soaring out from her in a tightly knitted beam. Blonde eyebrows drew together in concentration as she watched the sparrow in the cage, it's shiny black eyes regarding her as the bird twitched it's wings, ruffling feathers.
Like a kite soaring on a gentle updraft, she felt herself lift, felt the part of her that was her, that was Yamanaka Ino, seperate and pull away, propelled towards the small creature with only a thin and tremulous thread linking her to the body that she knew belonged to her. A moment's discomfort, the sensation akin to that of slipping your whole body into a glove that didn't quite fit, and then eyes that were hers and yet were not hers blinked. The head turned as those same eyes shifted to regard the much larger form that now slumped across the table, long platinum hair spilling over the polished wood like spun cornsilk.
One minute. Then two, the seconds ticking by like hours as she opened one wing, than the other, feeling the stress eating away at the edges of her psyche, the firm grip of her mind wavering as chakra was spent and used, slipping away like sand through an hourglass. Another minute as she made the small form turn around and wave it's tail, and then there was a chaotic roil of colour and sensation as she felt her spectral self tumble back to it's fleshy prison.
Shaking slightly, sweat beading on her brow, Ino pushed shaky arms under herself, levering her torso from the tabletop to fix a frustrated gaze on the cage. Not enough, still not enough. Trembling with the mere effort of standing, the girl drew her hands together, working through the familiar seals. More. She had to give it more, to push harder and harder, stretch her skills beyond their limits.
It wasn't about Sakura, not about any sort of rivalry the two had once shared or any sort of need to prove to the masses what she was capable of. She didn't need to prove anything to them. She was a Yamanaka. Her clan had served for generations, using their skills for interrogation and subterfuge. Leaping into the mind of another was only the beginning. If she wanted, she could use another's eyes, another's ears, touch with another's hands. She could push them, force them, send them careening over the edge of a cliff or straight into the path of a kunai, releasing their captive mind just before that one moment of death that would drag her down with it.
Her father could twist a mind, selectively finding and extracting memories as needed as part of an interrogation, breaking through thick corrugated mental shields as if they were no more than tissue paper to reach for the treasures held inside. In fact, it was said that the most powerful of the mind-reading clan could even steal memories away, erasing entire sections of someone's lives.
Mind-erasers. A frightening concept to some, a lofty goal to others.
Even so, that wasn't her goal. Not acquisition, not of that sort. No, it was the sense of loss that drove her. The memory of her sensei's death, as she tried in vain to heal wounds she knew were beyond her level. The bitter sting and the sour taste that had risen in her throat when, upon their journey towards revenge, she'd been brushed aside. Told by her own teammate to stay back and not fight.
It hadn't mattered what Shikamaru's reasoning had been, nor that whatever his plans, they had proven right. What mattered was that her skills hadn't been enough. But she would change that. And maybe, next time... she wouldn't be in the way.