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niteo_logs2010-05-03 08:56 pm
thirteen-blades.livejournal.com) wrote in niteo_logs2010-05-03 08:56 pm
Entry tags:
what i show you is reality. what you remember...
Who: Espedon, anybody
Where: Apartment Rooftop
When: May 3rd
What: Meditation interrupted?
Espedon sat on the roof of the apartments, seated in a half-lotus position on top of a rudimentary pillow- his backpack, stuffed with spare clothing. Rays of sunlight poked through the clouds overhead, one of a few dense pockets of shade in in the otherwise brilliant sky. A look of perfect concentration occupied his face, but his eyes were still dark from the insomnia that still plagued him.
Around him, seven blades hung suspended at varying levels in the air. The Seventh hovered directly behind him, glowing faintly, like some saint's halo. To his right, a squat, but solid, blade with a hilt reminiscent of a shield floated low over the roof. Angelfire, the blade he'd used to cut a path through the snow, levitated to his left.
Spinning idly above him, there was a straightsword, its golden, dragon-shaped hilt forming a gilded cage which housed a sphere of some exotic metal. An arming sword, with an abyssal eye in its hilt and a blade of black steel, hovered high behind him. Not far from it, a rapier of luminescent silver levitated, its beautiful hilt gleaming almost enticingly.
Before him, seeming to commune with him, one more blade hovered. It appeared to be crafted of some sort of wood, long-worn and found in the heart of some deadly, blackhearted jungle. Shard of obsidian were inserted all down the two sides of the weapon, forming a jagged and wickedly sharp blade. The air around it seemed to twist and writhe, an aura of delirium that begged to be danced with.
Periodically, the blades would shift their positions around Espedon's meditating form, but the last blade- Calexus- would remain still, its aura growing subtly stronger with each shifting. The blade hunter's amber eyes, the pupils of which were narrowed into the shape of blades, remained distant, locked on some unseen horizon.
"Speak, please," he uttered, unaware that his thoughts had crossed into speech.
Where: Apartment Rooftop
When: May 3rd
What: Meditation interrupted?
Espedon sat on the roof of the apartments, seated in a half-lotus position on top of a rudimentary pillow- his backpack, stuffed with spare clothing. Rays of sunlight poked through the clouds overhead, one of a few dense pockets of shade in in the otherwise brilliant sky. A look of perfect concentration occupied his face, but his eyes were still dark from the insomnia that still plagued him.
Around him, seven blades hung suspended at varying levels in the air. The Seventh hovered directly behind him, glowing faintly, like some saint's halo. To his right, a squat, but solid, blade with a hilt reminiscent of a shield floated low over the roof. Angelfire, the blade he'd used to cut a path through the snow, levitated to his left.
Spinning idly above him, there was a straightsword, its golden, dragon-shaped hilt forming a gilded cage which housed a sphere of some exotic metal. An arming sword, with an abyssal eye in its hilt and a blade of black steel, hovered high behind him. Not far from it, a rapier of luminescent silver levitated, its beautiful hilt gleaming almost enticingly.
Before him, seeming to commune with him, one more blade hovered. It appeared to be crafted of some sort of wood, long-worn and found in the heart of some deadly, blackhearted jungle. Shard of obsidian were inserted all down the two sides of the weapon, forming a jagged and wickedly sharp blade. The air around it seemed to twist and writhe, an aura of delirium that begged to be danced with.
Periodically, the blades would shift their positions around Espedon's meditating form, but the last blade- Calexus- would remain still, its aura growing subtly stronger with each shifting. The blade hunter's amber eyes, the pupils of which were narrowed into the shape of blades, remained distant, locked on some unseen horizon.
"Speak, please," he uttered, unaware that his thoughts had crossed into speech.
no subject
All it had taken was another moment of distraction, and Link was on his inside- and he moved quicker than Espedon had given him credit for. The literal slap on the wrist served to bring him back into the fight, and while it wasn't strong enough to disarm him, it would swell up later on, for certain.
It was fortunate that Espedon maintained his acrobatic training, as it was the only thing, at that point, between being gut-checked by the Hylian's shield. Espedon released his grip on the Seventh and it blinked out of sight. He braced down, and as Link charged in, he leapt up, grabbing a hold of the top of the shield to act as a guide. Deftly, he performed a sort of side-roll over Link's head, and upon landing, called the Seventh back into his hand.
Link's open side was exposed, although the lack of preparation time Espedon had been given him made his landing a bit wobbly. A counterattack was out of the question, but it gave him time to get his footing again.
He grinned at the young swordsman, apparently pleased. This was more fun than he'd had since his arrival.
The trick now would be maintaining his focus. But the pull...
no subject
Link was used to fighting those with greater reach, used to getting inside their personal space and used to using both his sword and shield as offensive weapons. The large expanse of metal and wood on his right arm could bash chests or shove an arm wide while his sword struck a half dozen times to whatever flesh was exposed. He could roll with both, as he did now, to get behind his larger opponents for all of the three seconds he'd have before they turned and could face him. But he made those three seconds count. In this case, he grabbed at Espedon's shoulder with his shield arm, hoping to jump on the man's back and force him into a forward roll that Link could then use to throw him across the roof.
It was certainly a lot of fun.
no subject
Rather than finding purchase on Espedon's shoulder, Link's hand would be repelled by a sudden force, almost as if an anti-Link magnet had gotten between him and his quarry. Interposed in mid-air between the youth and the blade-hunter was Curtana, the squat, shield-hilted blade. The air, in the shape of a rudimentary wall, distorted around it, protecting Espedon's exposed back.
In his other hand, his left, Youlong- the Dragon Sword- materialized in a flash of steel. Espedon pivoted on the ball of his foot, snatching Curtana from the air (causing the wall to dissipate) and lunging toward Link. He drove the point of Youlong toward him with a well-trained thrust as he did, being sure not to move at full speed- the tip was sharp, and skewering the boy wasn't a part of the plan.
While he no longer had the reach advantage, the short, stubby Curtana and the standard-sized Youlong gave him the maneuverability he'd need to keep from catching a shield in the face.