Post by Lord Zasham on May 21, 2015 23:10:11 GMT -5
The middle aged saiyan swung the sword with refined grace. An elegant power followed the wake of his blade. His assailant was a mirror image of himself, right down to the angled shades. The katana in each of their hands was of the finest quality and magical in nature; the Brave Sword. It had no true form, choosing one itself upon transferring to a new Master. Only the Master of the Kikoukenjutsu Dojo can wield it, able to summon it to his hand at any moment, no matter the distance. The copy slashed across at eye level and the swordsman leaned back, watching the deadly blade soars so close that a small tear is left upon the brown bandana wrapped around his forehead.
Gilded katana shot forth, catching the mimic in the chest and piercing straight through. Stumbling backwards, the imposter falls to a knee. “C’mon bub, we went over this for two weeks and you know I’m not going to take easy on you now that I know about your healing factor,” the swordsman said as he shrugged to adjust the shoulder plating on his black leather duster. The imposter sat up, transforming as he did, until he stood as young Willie Watson, clad in typical blue jeans, hoodie and leather jacket; the wound now gone. “Sorry Grandmaster Masamune, I just really want to get it,” the boy said as he rubbed his chest.
“I think it’s cute you trying to ‘be me’ to help learn the technique, but you’re overthinking it kid. The ki traveling through the blade is no different than blood coursing through your veins, if you cannot sustain the flow the limb dies. If kikoukenjutsu is to work, the weapon must be one with you,” Masamune lectured as he snapped his neck to the side to pull his ponytail from where it had been draped over his shoulder; a ploy as he slashed right across the boy’s waist. “But the weights and gravity are so straining, it makes it difficult to concentrate,” bemoaned the boy as the gripped the short sword and parried the blow, having grown accustomed to the Blade Master’s style of slashing while teaching. Snorting the saiyan gestured to his own boots and gloves, “What do you think these are? If you aren’t able to perform it while weighted how are you ever going to manage during a fight? You need to move past this mental block; be the sword,” before stabbing forth once again.
But this time Watson deflected it, before spinning around and angling low, to cut deep into the thighs. As it came around it met Masamune’s katana, now glowing gold with the power of kikoukenjutsu, and passed right through to his surprise. Then he heard the clang as he looked to the blade to see a new end glowing, angled as it was awkwardly cut. The former tip now rested at their feet, along with countless others. “I have faith in you son, you’re a compassionate guy with a lot of willpower,” the man whose wife called him Kosho reassured. With a sigh Willie shot back, away from a follow up, and tossed the severed sword into a bin filled with countless others; each given a new tip as unique as the last.
Then he paused for a moment and peered down at his hand, turning his palm upwards and flexing his fingers. “Hmmm,” William muttered as he stared down at his hand. It was growing tiresome to constantly replace the halved swords. Then the idea came to him, perhaps he could tweak his body weaponization; what better way to find unity with his blade than if it was made of him. Black ooze began amassing in his palm, bubbling outwards in opposite direction. One end far longer than the other and hardening into an impressive blade. The rest followed suit, forming the hilt in his grasp. A ripple ran down from his hand to the edge’s tip before it solidified. Swinging the sword around himself, effortlessly switching from hand to hand, Watson liked the weight and feel of the blade.
“Well,” Kosho said with a grunt, “I suppose that is one way to be one with the blade.” The blade master then rushed forward hacking at each side in turn in a flurry of precision strikes which William struggled to keep up with at first, even stumbling twice; each ending with a deep gash in the meat of his body. After being forced back several steps however he overcomes the initial disorientation and begins trusting his connection with the weapon. He planted a foot and matched the shaded swordsman blow for blow, refused to surrender another inch, thus forcing Kosho to grin. “Trust that confidence, it is not hollow; it is true and pure,” and Will did just that pressing forward, forcing the Grandmaster back a single step. Then another.
As he felt the bond grow Watson’s form evolved, his movements becoming fluid with that of the blade, sharing one momentum; one force. Moments later the two were matched in their fluidity and grace, the spar nearly becoming a contest for sword dancing amidst their elegant steps and thrusts. “I think I am finally understanding, Grandmaster,” the boy declared, unable to mask the surprise in his voice. He never thought he could really fully understand this metaphysical connection the blade hermit attested to frequently. William was lost in the world of the literal, but now he understand; the sword was no different than an arm. When you punched you place the entirety of your body into the motion. You were one with the action.
“We shall see!” Kosho cried as he stepped back, out of the boy’s arc, before once more stepping up. As he did the saiyan spun, throwing the whole of his weight and speed behind the circling edge as it came to life with golden light. A red hot radiant edge lined the blade as it came to the shapeshifted sword; and then stopped. A moment of a struggle. Then a small burst of light as the kikoukenjutsu failed, followed shortly by the metallic clang of the Brave Sword’s tip as it fell to their feet. The apparent human stood, his makeshift katana encased in a thin obsidian aura; a small fire, its black flames continuously licking at the air. Watson’s kikoukenjutsu had finally surfaced and taken form.
“I can’t believe I finally got it,” Watson said, barely able to comprehend the strange onyx ki lining his weapon. “I knew you would son. You just got to have faith,” Kosho replied with his signature smile. Then William grew darker for a moment, more stoic and reserved. As if fighting himself to say something which caused him great discomfort. “I’m sorry,” he finally blurted out before deciding to run with it, “I just wanted to thank you, for everything. I can’t imagine what I would’ve done if I had hurt Nook, or you, that day out on the lunar surface.” Of course he spoke of the day he nearly killed the Blade Master and Mistress of Daggers. Holding that warming grin, Kosho just slapped the boy on the shoulder. But they were fine, and here, in the dojo. Safe… Alive.
“All is fine bub, you subdued your demon and became stronger for it, plus I know you’d never harm my wife or I,” the blade hermit said, his smile diminishing a fraction. “Thank you, Grandmaster Masamune,” came the words from glistening eyes. “You’re welcome son,” he spoke softly as his eyes began to lose focus. Then the boy started to fade, like static in the air. The saiyan’s suddenly hand dropped through his intangible form, his transparent body dissipating as he did. The dojo was gone, replaced by cold, unforgiving, white walls. "You're welcome..." At his feet the tip of his severed began to melt; a few droplets of salty sadness landing aside it. Then the melting metal blackened as it formed a puddle of black ooze.
[PL; grav x45, heavy weights, sim 2.0]
Technique Learned;
Kikoukenjutsu – The main technique of the titular sword school of channeling ki through swords. This allows the user to reinforce their weapon of choice, making its strikes deadlier as well as the blade itself more durable. The energy channeling through the weapon can also be cast off as a crescent ki slash with terrible potential. [5k, Masamune]
Gilded katana shot forth, catching the mimic in the chest and piercing straight through. Stumbling backwards, the imposter falls to a knee. “C’mon bub, we went over this for two weeks and you know I’m not going to take easy on you now that I know about your healing factor,” the swordsman said as he shrugged to adjust the shoulder plating on his black leather duster. The imposter sat up, transforming as he did, until he stood as young Willie Watson, clad in typical blue jeans, hoodie and leather jacket; the wound now gone. “Sorry Grandmaster Masamune, I just really want to get it,” the boy said as he rubbed his chest.
“I think it’s cute you trying to ‘be me’ to help learn the technique, but you’re overthinking it kid. The ki traveling through the blade is no different than blood coursing through your veins, if you cannot sustain the flow the limb dies. If kikoukenjutsu is to work, the weapon must be one with you,” Masamune lectured as he snapped his neck to the side to pull his ponytail from where it had been draped over his shoulder; a ploy as he slashed right across the boy’s waist. “But the weights and gravity are so straining, it makes it difficult to concentrate,” bemoaned the boy as the gripped the short sword and parried the blow, having grown accustomed to the Blade Master’s style of slashing while teaching. Snorting the saiyan gestured to his own boots and gloves, “What do you think these are? If you aren’t able to perform it while weighted how are you ever going to manage during a fight? You need to move past this mental block; be the sword,” before stabbing forth once again.
But this time Watson deflected it, before spinning around and angling low, to cut deep into the thighs. As it came around it met Masamune’s katana, now glowing gold with the power of kikoukenjutsu, and passed right through to his surprise. Then he heard the clang as he looked to the blade to see a new end glowing, angled as it was awkwardly cut. The former tip now rested at their feet, along with countless others. “I have faith in you son, you’re a compassionate guy with a lot of willpower,” the man whose wife called him Kosho reassured. With a sigh Willie shot back, away from a follow up, and tossed the severed sword into a bin filled with countless others; each given a new tip as unique as the last.
Then he paused for a moment and peered down at his hand, turning his palm upwards and flexing his fingers. “Hmmm,” William muttered as he stared down at his hand. It was growing tiresome to constantly replace the halved swords. Then the idea came to him, perhaps he could tweak his body weaponization; what better way to find unity with his blade than if it was made of him. Black ooze began amassing in his palm, bubbling outwards in opposite direction. One end far longer than the other and hardening into an impressive blade. The rest followed suit, forming the hilt in his grasp. A ripple ran down from his hand to the edge’s tip before it solidified. Swinging the sword around himself, effortlessly switching from hand to hand, Watson liked the weight and feel of the blade.
“Well,” Kosho said with a grunt, “I suppose that is one way to be one with the blade.” The blade master then rushed forward hacking at each side in turn in a flurry of precision strikes which William struggled to keep up with at first, even stumbling twice; each ending with a deep gash in the meat of his body. After being forced back several steps however he overcomes the initial disorientation and begins trusting his connection with the weapon. He planted a foot and matched the shaded swordsman blow for blow, refused to surrender another inch, thus forcing Kosho to grin. “Trust that confidence, it is not hollow; it is true and pure,” and Will did just that pressing forward, forcing the Grandmaster back a single step. Then another.
As he felt the bond grow Watson’s form evolved, his movements becoming fluid with that of the blade, sharing one momentum; one force. Moments later the two were matched in their fluidity and grace, the spar nearly becoming a contest for sword dancing amidst their elegant steps and thrusts. “I think I am finally understanding, Grandmaster,” the boy declared, unable to mask the surprise in his voice. He never thought he could really fully understand this metaphysical connection the blade hermit attested to frequently. William was lost in the world of the literal, but now he understand; the sword was no different than an arm. When you punched you place the entirety of your body into the motion. You were one with the action.
“We shall see!” Kosho cried as he stepped back, out of the boy’s arc, before once more stepping up. As he did the saiyan spun, throwing the whole of his weight and speed behind the circling edge as it came to life with golden light. A red hot radiant edge lined the blade as it came to the shapeshifted sword; and then stopped. A moment of a struggle. Then a small burst of light as the kikoukenjutsu failed, followed shortly by the metallic clang of the Brave Sword’s tip as it fell to their feet. The apparent human stood, his makeshift katana encased in a thin obsidian aura; a small fire, its black flames continuously licking at the air. Watson’s kikoukenjutsu had finally surfaced and taken form.
“I can’t believe I finally got it,” Watson said, barely able to comprehend the strange onyx ki lining his weapon. “I knew you would son. You just got to have faith,” Kosho replied with his signature smile. Then William grew darker for a moment, more stoic and reserved. As if fighting himself to say something which caused him great discomfort. “I’m sorry,” he finally blurted out before deciding to run with it, “I just wanted to thank you, for everything. I can’t imagine what I would’ve done if I had hurt Nook, or you, that day out on the lunar surface.” Of course he spoke of the day he nearly killed the Blade Master and Mistress of Daggers. Holding that warming grin, Kosho just slapped the boy on the shoulder. But they were fine, and here, in the dojo. Safe… Alive.
“All is fine bub, you subdued your demon and became stronger for it, plus I know you’d never harm my wife or I,” the blade hermit said, his smile diminishing a fraction. “Thank you, Grandmaster Masamune,” came the words from glistening eyes. “You’re welcome son,” he spoke softly as his eyes began to lose focus. Then the boy started to fade, like static in the air. The saiyan’s suddenly hand dropped through his intangible form, his transparent body dissipating as he did. The dojo was gone, replaced by cold, unforgiving, white walls. "You're welcome..." At his feet the tip of his severed began to melt; a few droplets of salty sadness landing aside it. Then the melting metal blackened as it formed a puddle of black ooze.
[PL; grav x45, heavy weights, sim 2.0]
Technique Learned;
Kikoukenjutsu – The main technique of the titular sword school of channeling ki through swords. This allows the user to reinforce their weapon of choice, making its strikes deadlier as well as the blade itself more durable. The energy channeling through the weapon can also be cast off as a crescent ki slash with terrible potential. [5k, Masamune]