OOC - Memory 3
[ooc: Taken from here to here. Sense is Sight only.]
He smiled, sweetly, dangerously, at the people before him, watching as their faces turned from angry to horrified- and even terrified of the power coming from his fists. No, from his whole body. He floated in the air, power swirling around him, guided by the motions of his hands. And with one wave, he sent all of it to the nearest person, the boy with the sling. The boy threw up a barrier to protect himself, but obviously it was no use. Compared to Stigmata's power, it would break easily...
And yet his fist did not make contact. Instead, he passed right through his target, as if he were just an illusion. He was not though- it was obvious from his expression that he was just as surprised as his attacker was.
Their surroundings changed very suddenly. Orbs suspended from nothing hung about the suddenly dark room. The room that had been once a traditional Japanese room. No walls, no ceiling, no floor. The darkness seemed to go on forever, and the orbs did nothing to contradict that fact. They should have been falling by now, but every person in that area still had shadows that stretched away from them, coming from the collective glowing of orbs around them. It was beautiful, but vaguely disturbing. It was as if a dream had taken over reality.
One of the girls drew a sword out of her own left hand. The other one patted her large dog, which seemed to perk up immediately. Everyone was getting ready for a battle in their own way. Where the enemy would come from, and how they would attack though, was up in the air.
Long, large rocks broke through from a 'wall' that had not been there before, aiming for each person, most especially the six teenagers in school uniforms, Stigmata included. Stigmata, however, was not impressed. He called up his power again, hands crackling with electricity and smoke accentuating his body. Without even having to concentrate, or even move, every single rock pointed at him shattered into pieces, before crumbling to dust.
The others did the same, but even with appearances, they had nothing on what Stigmata had just done. Unimpressive, after that display of power from such a small, thin boy.
Stigmata was clearly impatient for the dream to end. He frowned, gathering up everything else that he had. This time, it was neither wind, lightning nor fog. It looked like a roaring fire springing up from his body, encircling him and creating a wall all around, and yet his clothes did not even flutter. Without waiting for a command, the flames spread out- and suddenly the darkness shattered, like glass breaking from a single blow.
The pieces cracked, and fell around them as the small, pink petals of a cherry tree. They were harmless, and disappeared once they were touched.
... Was he really that harsh in his past life?
And yet, curious from the events he had just witnessed, Stigmata placed his two forefingers together. It didn't matter if he did not hear or feel anything. He was trying out something he had only seen with his eyes. Wasn't this one of the many ways to learn?
He concentrated, and felt a little hum between his fingers. He slowly drew them apart, and a thin line of electricity connected the two, crackling cheerily despite its quality.
He smiled, sweetly, dangerously, at the people before him, watching as their faces turned from angry to horrified- and even terrified of the power coming from his fists. No, from his whole body. He floated in the air, power swirling around him, guided by the motions of his hands. And with one wave, he sent all of it to the nearest person, the boy with the sling. The boy threw up a barrier to protect himself, but obviously it was no use. Compared to Stigmata's power, it would break easily...
And yet his fist did not make contact. Instead, he passed right through his target, as if he were just an illusion. He was not though- it was obvious from his expression that he was just as surprised as his attacker was.
Their surroundings changed very suddenly. Orbs suspended from nothing hung about the suddenly dark room. The room that had been once a traditional Japanese room. No walls, no ceiling, no floor. The darkness seemed to go on forever, and the orbs did nothing to contradict that fact. They should have been falling by now, but every person in that area still had shadows that stretched away from them, coming from the collective glowing of orbs around them. It was beautiful, but vaguely disturbing. It was as if a dream had taken over reality.
One of the girls drew a sword out of her own left hand. The other one patted her large dog, which seemed to perk up immediately. Everyone was getting ready for a battle in their own way. Where the enemy would come from, and how they would attack though, was up in the air.
Long, large rocks broke through from a 'wall' that had not been there before, aiming for each person, most especially the six teenagers in school uniforms, Stigmata included. Stigmata, however, was not impressed. He called up his power again, hands crackling with electricity and smoke accentuating his body. Without even having to concentrate, or even move, every single rock pointed at him shattered into pieces, before crumbling to dust.
The others did the same, but even with appearances, they had nothing on what Stigmata had just done. Unimpressive, after that display of power from such a small, thin boy.
Stigmata was clearly impatient for the dream to end. He frowned, gathering up everything else that he had. This time, it was neither wind, lightning nor fog. It looked like a roaring fire springing up from his body, encircling him and creating a wall all around, and yet his clothes did not even flutter. Without waiting for a command, the flames spread out- and suddenly the darkness shattered, like glass breaking from a single blow.
The pieces cracked, and fell around them as the small, pink petals of a cherry tree. They were harmless, and disappeared once they were touched.
... Was he really that harsh in his past life?
And yet, curious from the events he had just witnessed, Stigmata placed his two forefingers together. It didn't matter if he did not hear or feel anything. He was trying out something he had only seen with his eyes. Wasn't this one of the many ways to learn?
He concentrated, and felt a little hum between his fingers. He slowly drew them apart, and a thin line of electricity connected the two, crackling cheerily despite its quality.