closed.
Who: onequarter and trephaestos
When: Sloth event!
Where: The Ruins.
Format: Paragraph.
What: Throwing characters together to see what sticks.
Warnings: Will edit if any?
Every day, Clare's arm has been regrowing just a little bit more. She's taken the bandages off, now: the flesh smooth and clean, perfectly impossible to tell that it grew from a stump. Every day she exercises it and focuses her yoki and strains to better knit muscle and tendon together, strengthen veins, flutter capillaries outwards. It's only human, after all, so she has to get it as strong as she can.
Every day ... except today. She doesn't feel like much of anything today. Trying to find her goals and understand her humanity seems like too much effort. Straining, sweating to push out an arm like a punishment? Far too hard.
But even though she's feeling a little like she wants to flop face-down on the bed and stay there, she fights the lethargy as best she can. Would Kunsel have given up just because he felt a little unmotivated? Would Raki? No! She feeds the animals named after her inspirations, and prepares to go out. There are still a few errant muffins to deliver today, and afterwards she takes her sword and goes into the ruins to practice wielding her Claymore with this new weakness. After a few swings, she manages to lose herself to the grace and flow of her movements. She keeps her yoki tightly controlled, trying to extend it slowly, evenly into both her arms.
It doesn't work.
It's only coming to a stop, panting shallowly but otherwise unaffected by her exertions, that she allows this disappointment to register. Her sword goes point-first into the soft earth and she leans up against the rough stone brick of a wall, her warrior uniform catching on it in places. It feels a bit like when she lived without a leg, everything made harder, throwing her off balance, making her feel mediocre.
When: Sloth event!
Where: The Ruins.
Format: Paragraph.
What: Throwing characters together to see what sticks.
Warnings: Will edit if any?
Every day, Clare's arm has been regrowing just a little bit more. She's taken the bandages off, now: the flesh smooth and clean, perfectly impossible to tell that it grew from a stump. Every day she exercises it and focuses her yoki and strains to better knit muscle and tendon together, strengthen veins, flutter capillaries outwards. It's only human, after all, so she has to get it as strong as she can.
Every day ... except today. She doesn't feel like much of anything today. Trying to find her goals and understand her humanity seems like too much effort. Straining, sweating to push out an arm like a punishment? Far too hard.
But even though she's feeling a little like she wants to flop face-down on the bed and stay there, she fights the lethargy as best she can. Would Kunsel have given up just because he felt a little unmotivated? Would Raki? No! She feeds the animals named after her inspirations, and prepares to go out. There are still a few errant muffins to deliver today, and afterwards she takes her sword and goes into the ruins to practice wielding her Claymore with this new weakness. After a few swings, she manages to lose herself to the grace and flow of her movements. She keeps her yoki tightly controlled, trying to extend it slowly, evenly into both her arms.
It doesn't work.
It's only coming to a stop, panting shallowly but otherwise unaffected by her exertions, that she allows this disappointment to register. Her sword goes point-first into the soft earth and she leans up against the rough stone brick of a wall, her warrior uniform catching on it in places. It feels a bit like when she lived without a leg, everything made harder, throwing her off balance, making her feel mediocre.