Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 7, 2015 0:23:11 GMT -5
The most important thing to remember when overcoming anything is that success doesn't happen overnight. Misha wouldn't be able to just waltz into the firing range and magically be able to control his partial form, and he was well aware of that. But that didn't keep his excitement under wraps. He was pretty much glowing the whole day, radiating his anticipation for the afternoon where he would (hopefully) be able to figure out how to control all of the transformations he had inherited from his grandmother. He didn't really know how he was supposed to go about this figuring-out, but he figured the firing range was a good place to start. After all, though his weapon form was not a gun, it was kind of shaped like one. So maybe watching other weapons in action would help him out considerably. A further understanding of the weapon would surely lead to him being able to control it, and a better understanding meant he needed to find a master. And where else would he find a master of firearms but the firing range?
It all made sense to him, anyway.
Unfortunately, there weren't many people here. He saw a couple of people, none of whom looked even remotely interested in talking to him. He did manage to strike up a conversation with one boy much shorter than himself, whose weapon form was a shotgun, but in the end he didn't come up with any real conclusions. Maybe it was a little silly to think anyone would know anything about flamethrowers here. But hey, at least he met that one kid--Michael was his name. It was a lot like Mikhail, and that was really cool. Misha would be sure to remember it.
It had still been fun, so Misha felt like nothing had been lost in this adventure. He could try something new tomorrow; perhaps he should talk to a teacher about it. That would be a pretty good idea.
And just when he had gotten it in his head that he would be going, he noticed a new face join the small population of the firing range. Without much thought, Misha immediately gravitated toward the girl--she had a bow with her, and while that wasn't relevant to his goals he was still extremely interested in her.
"Hey there!" he called, practically bouncing up to her.
|
|
|
Post by Gardenia Oslin on Apr 11, 2015 19:37:58 GMT -5
Gardenia's days were starting to blur together. She had settled into a routine: wake up, get ready for school, class, workout, return home, tend to her garden, supper, sleep. She couldn't help but feel a horrible malaise, a stagnancy. How long had it been since she enrolled? How long has she been stuck at the same level, unable to advance. She wasn't learning anything new in class. She wasn't getting any stronger. She was stuck on an island.
She alternated her workout routine throughout the week: fencing, archery, endurance, fencing, archery, etc. It was easy for Gardenia to settle into simply keeping up the skills she had honed before enrolling. It was easy for her to convince herself that she would be better off doing so, that if she simply honed her own skill set she would be making some progress.
She had met a Demon Bow once, a kind neighbor girl. It seemed at the time a stroke of luck at the time, but it simply fell through. She would often meet other unpartnered weapons at the shooting range, but never another bow, it seemed. Stubbornly, she kept to herself and focused on simply hitting her target, to listen to the methodic and cathartic thwump! of each arrow released, to drown the time ticking away as her peers moved on hand-in-hand to bigger and brighter things.
And so came another day to head to the range. She held no reservations by this point that today would produce any exceptional results. She had no reason to believe such. It was just time to wind down. She tied her hair up into a ponytail, put on a brace for her fore-arm and protection for her fingers. Slipping a quiver over her shoulder came as natural a motion as the walk to the range, bow in hand.
She passed by the familiar faces standing near the entrance with a cordial and well practiced greeting. They'd learn to leave her be by this point.
Her muscles tensed as an unfamiliar voice rang out, and a strange boy bounded her way. A boy who who seemed at least as tall as she was, and a bit broader in the shoulders. Gardenia took an instinctive half-step back, and relaxed her nerves. Her lips curled into a slight smile. She wasn't averse to meeting new people, but she knew the sooner she humored him the sooner she'd be back on her way. "Oh, good day!"
She took the initiative in introductions this encounter, "Gardenia Oslin, NOT class meister," she said with a tiny bow; better to get that over with on her own terms than risk him reaching out a hand to shake.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 12, 2015 17:12:00 GMT -5
Gardenia Oslin, how precious. Misha cupped an arm over his abdomen and mimicked her greeting with a small bow of his own. "A pleasure, Miss Oslin." He gave a cheeky little grin, unable to contain his excitement. "I am Mikhail Lyovkin, a NOT class weapon." She was the first person he had met from the NOT class, besides the handful of classmates sitting near him during school hours. He had yet to make his way around the room in his brief time here, but there was still a possibility of her being in his class. Though, he felt like he would have remembered someone so cute.
His eyes flickered over to the bow in her hand, and made the very obvious observation of "Heading to practice?" It really only served as a transition sentence, and he didn't much space for an answer and smoothly added on a "Do you mind if I tag along? I can't really control my own weapon form yet, so I've been watching the people around here to see if it'll help me understand myself a little better." Well, he had no reason to watch her archery practice. Flamethrowers were practically on the opposite side of the spectrum, and him going with her would do him no good in the long run. Except he'd make another friend from his class, and that was reason enough.
And maybe if he thought hard enough, he could come up with a logical excuse. But he'd only use that as a last resort. Because there was no guarantee she'd actually let him accompany her.
But he really hoped she would. She had only said a handful of words to him, but he already wanted to know more about her.
|
|
|
Post by Gardenia Oslin on Apr 13, 2015 21:04:03 GMT -5
Gardenia raised an eyebrow slightly at this boy's request. Surely he'd be better off observing other weapons. But, maybe he just had an odd means of learning. She didn't know first hand how the whole Weapon transformation deal worked, though she studied the theory thoroughly.
But he didn't say what weapon he was. Perhaps... could he be a bow? Gardenia entertained that line of thought for a moment; that observing the form of someone using the weapon one transformed into could translate to a better understanding of one's weapon form.
Either way, she had no reason to object, so long he allowed her to do what she came here to do. "Very well, Mikhail," Mikhail was a nice name, "just... stand back. Safety measures, and all." She lifted her bow up, "these strings can cut flesh, if you're not careful." She let out a slight giggle as she walked past Misha. Of course, that was a greater risk for the person firing the bow than anyone near, but she knew what she was doing.
Taking her place twenty five meters away from a target, Gardenia looked back towards Misha to make sure he was keeping at least a meter away. With a small nod to indicate she was starting proper, she planted her feet firmly and took an arrow from her quiver. Effortlessly notching the arrow into place, she raised the bow with her leading arm kept perfectly straight, and steadily drew the taut bow string back. Without hesitation, the arrow flew forth and struck the eye-shaped target dead-center.
She withdrew another arrow in a swift, seamless motion from letting the previous loose. She lined it on her extended index finger as if she was about to pull it back for another shot, but she remembered she had an audience who was trying to take mental notes and so she lowered the bow back down to face the boy expectantly.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 20, 2015 0:22:53 GMT -5
He looked absolutely ecstatic with her approval; you could almost see a tail wagging as he followed after her. He didn't know much about archery, but he was happy that she was allowing him to stick around. Apparently, it was much more dangerous than he thought it was; the strings could cut flesh? That was so intense! His eyes rounded out considerably, and he tried to lean as far forward as he could to try and get a better look and to make sure that she didn't cut herself either. Though, she was the professional. Made him a little jealous; he wondered if her partner was a bow. He could just imagine her taking thirty kishin down at once.
Misha watched enraptured as she took her position and beautifully shot off an arrow. He jumped a little and pumped his fist as she hit the target in the dead center, giving a little cheer. He rushed over to her immediately, eyes sparkling and not taking into consideration that it might not be okay for him to approach her yet.
"That was amazing!" he gushed, stopping just short of her and grinning wildly. "You're like a goddess, Gardenia! How long have you been practicing?" A long ass time, clearly. Miss Oslin here grew up classy, he could tell. Maybe he could have learned something like archery, had he thought to ask. But he took up boxing instead, which was better in the long run. Archers were cute elf people like Gardenia, and he didn't fit that image at all. He didn't really fit the image of a boxer either, though. With a shirt on, he didn't look quite big enough to be the slugger he was. But in the end, looks weren't what mattered. It was how you performed in the ring. Or, in this case, in the shooting range.
He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, trying to tone his enthusiasm down a little bit with a smaller smile, but it still rolled off of him in waves. "Is your partner a bow?"
|
|
|
Post by Gardenia Oslin on Apr 20, 2015 23:24:52 GMT -5
Gardenia broke her stance to retreat back and match Misha's steps forward, her heart skipping a beat. She regained her composure shortly, when it was clear he wasn't proceeding further. The boy was rather excitable, wasn't he?
Her expression softened at his praise, though. She placed the arrow she still held back into its quiver. "Oh, thank you, Mikhail, but I'm not that extraordinary. I'm sure there are students here who have extensive field experience, after all." She waved her hand in front of her, abashed. She knew she was rather good, but certainly not "like a goddess".
"I first picked up the bow when I was... Eleven, I believe? I've not missed too many days of practice, however." Of course, those practice days were scheduled to account for her medical issues in the first place. She still typically managed three out of four weeks, though.
Gardenia's mind was placed considerably more at ease when the boy stuffed his hands away. Or, would've been. "O-oh." She glanced down at her bow for a moment, before resolving to answer Misha's question. "I haven't actually partnered with anybody, as of yet."
She hadn't much reason to be embarrassed by that fact. She was just a NOT student, after all. But, that was the actual problem, wasn't it? Regardless, this was just another reminder that she was falling behind, running out of time.
To avoid dwelling on that thought, Gardenia's mind shifted gears. She was telling this boy about herself, but she didn't know much about him, now did she?
Her soul flickered at a stray, optimistic hope that he could provide her opportunity.
"What of you, Mikhail? You're a weapon, correct?" She asked rhetorically. That's how he introduced himself, after all. "Of what sort?"
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 20, 2015 23:47:37 GMT -5
He didn't laugh, but it was clear that he wanted to. Not a condescending laugh, or anything of the sort. Just a truly amused sound, an I just knew you'd say that sort of laugh. People often tried to brush compliments off in such a way to sound modest, but the way she went about it was simply endearing. "There's always someone better," he agreed, "but you're the best I've ever seen, and that kind of counts for something." He paused, face sobering and shifting so that he had puffed his cheeks out. He stayed that way only for a few seconds, appearing to be thinking something over carefully. Finally, he added on a "And you can call me Misha. Almost everyone does."
Eleven was a young age indeed, though he wasn't entirely sure just how old she was currently so he couldn't get a firm grasp on exactly how long she had been at it. But the sentence itself was still impressive, especially with the tacked on fact about her rarely missing practice. He nodded, looking quite awed by her.
He must have brushed over a touchy topic, though, because he was starting to lose her for a second. Thankfully, she recovered from the falter quickly, telling him that she didn't actually have a partner. He shrugged, giving her a more easy-going smile. "No worries. It means someone awesome's waiting for you." Oh, though it sounded like he was giving her love advice, and that was a little awkward. Though, your partner was almost as important as a lover, if not more so.
Now it was Misha's turn to get a little flustered, and he reached up to scratch at his head. Revealing that information to her meant admitting that he had told a tiny bit of a white lie in saying watching her would help him. A flamethrower and a bow couldn't be any more different; if she had a rifle with her, that would have been a different story. Alas, things turned out this way. Oh well, he would have had to come clean sooner or later.
"I'm actually this old-timey flamethrower," he replied, a little slowly. He was quick to perk up again. "I can't really transform at will yet, so I thought I'd try hanging out around here to see if I could learn anything. And I didn't, really, but I got to meet you so I'm happy!" He kicked at the ground a little, which was a gesture of embarrassment in most cases. But his usual grin was slowly taking its proper place on his face. "Thanks for letting me watch; I really appreciate it. I just got here a few days ago, so I don't have a partner or a lot of friends or anything." Just an endearingly awkward roommate who didn't like spending time with him.
|
|
|
Post by Gardenia Oslin on Apr 26, 2015 23:03:30 GMT -5
Jubilantly, Mikhail had informed Gardenia that she could call him "Misha". They only met rather recently to start calling each other nicknames, though, right? But she supposed if everyone else called him that, it wouldn't be odd. Not many people referred to her with a nickname. To be fair, she wasn't exactly the most outgoing and friendly sort of person anyways.
Odd was the choice of words Misha used to assure her with regards to her lack of a partner. Waiting for her? That was one way to go about thinking about it, she supposed. She was personally growing weary of the destiny rhetoric, though. She didn't much have reason to believe in anything like soul mates.
So, it didn't come as too much of a disappointment when Misha outed himself as being slightly disingenuous.
It wasn't anything she could really hold against him, though. She was slightly pleased that she could show off her archery to someone interested, regardless of their reason. He was simply new around school and wanted to meet people; she kind of admired such a decision. And being new and inexperienced, witnessing any number of things could provide all sorts of lessons, so she didn't humor him for nothing.
Either way, this cheerful boy was a flamethrower. That didn't much fall under her skill set, now did it? It was a curious weapon form, to be sure. Gardenia supposed there could be some utility to it, in addition to it's raw... firepower. She was at the very least interested in seeing it. "It was no trouble, truly, Misha," she assured him. "But, since you were a gracious audience, perhaps you won't mind if I inquire to see this Flamethrower form of yours? Practice makes perfect, right?"
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 27, 2015 21:06:04 GMT -5
Misha looked rather surprised by her suggestion, and he ran a hand through his hair nervously. Transforming worked most of the time, though he didn't really want it to not work in front of the cute girl he found. Though, he couldn't even remind her of his little flaw, because she had kindly pointed out that he wouldn't get anywhere without practice. "You've got me there," he chuckled, averting his gaze for just a brief moment.
That was really all it took for him to summon up his confidence again. That, and a quick but deep breath. And then he was grinning once more. "Okay, prepare to be amazed!" Though, he did take several steps back, because last time he transformed he set the house curtains on fire. Completely on accident, of course, but he didn't want a repeat of that incident. He'd never, ever, ever forgive himself if he burned Gardenia.
He clapped his hands together and closed his eyes, and put a great effort into concentrating. If he had any worry of it not working, he squashed it within moments and was soon engulfed by a warm red light. Once it faded away, an old Russian flamethrower could be found in his place. The gun-portion was propped up against the backpack, which seemed to have little trouble supporting it.
Misha opened his eyes again, taking in the familiar environment around him and jumping up in a cheer. "Oh hell yeah!" he exclaimed, pleased that everything had gone well and that no one was on fire.
She couldn't really see him, not in his normal form anyway, but he looked at Gardenia expectantly, waiting for a thunderous applause.
Or something like that.
He was far too excited to wait for terribly long, though. "Hey, hey! Flamethrowers aren't really your thing, but you can try to pick me up if you want!" He had never really been used before, except by his grandmother who had gone into excruciating detail about how everything worked.
|
|
|
Post by Gardenia Oslin on May 2, 2015 20:54:08 GMT -5
Misha's steps back before transforming was both assuring and slightly worrisome to Gardenia. Assuring, because she always appreciated people distancing themselves away from her. Worrisome, because she couldn't shake a suspicion that he had in the past learnt the importance of such a safety measure the troublesome way. She supposed it made sense that someone with inexperience transforming into a form so volatile could lead to... some unpleasant results.
To her relief, Misha's transformation went smoothly this time around. A smile showed on her lips. Despite her time in Shibusen, she still found the act of transformation a fascinating sight to behold in person. She tucked the bow she was still holding under her shoulder, clapped her hands together and intoned, "oh, that was impressive indeed, Misha."
It felt a bit odd to talk to a flamethrower. She hadn't much experience communicating with other students in their weapon forms.
Nor had Gardenia actually held a Demon Weapon, before. In fact, the simple thought of it gave her an odd sensation in her stomach. That was kind of a hindrance to being a meister. She had to get over it at some point, right? Besides, being a meister meant taking the lead. Partners were equals, in theory. But it was still a difficult concept to wrap her head around in practical terms. The meister had more autonomy at any given moment, right? The very title of "meister" implies a hierarchical relationship.
If a weapon held full autonomy, which she knew they ought to, that they have a right to, that meant there were no safety measures she could fall back on. Only trust.
Misha offered to let her try and pick him up. A moment of trust. But, Gardenia hardly knew this boy. He hardly knew her, and didn't know her needs.
Her soul flickered once again.
She needed to define them. If she didn't start making her boundaries clear and explicit, how could she ever expect others to abide by them? How much longer could she keep going on her own business, detached from others out of fear they'd transgress rules she never established for them?
Gardenia didn't wish to disappoint Misha, but neither was she particularly ecstatic. She was mostly just exhausted by herself. It could of been anyone, she knew. This boy's cheerful and excitable demeanor was certainly a push, but she'd have arrived to this conclusion on her own soon enough. Or so she liked to think, at least.
Even if they weren't compatible, even if she'd never be able to utilize his weapon form, this was still an opportunity to Gardenia. A proper first step on a path she had a lot of catching up to do.
"Oh, well... I can certainly try. Hold on a moment." The meister turned away from the boy-turned-flamethrower, and placed her bow on the ground. Slipping off her quiver to place next to it, she tried to psych herself up. She muttered under her breath a rehearsal.
Gardenia turned back around and gingerly approached Misha, crouching down so as to confer to him in as low a voice as she could, "but, there's something I must ask of you, Misha. If you could, for I know not how well you can maintain this form, please do not transform back until I have set you back down and stepped away." She didn't know quite where her vision should be focused at when addressing him, so her gaze kinda meandered whilst saying that. The rifle part? the backpack? The very tip of the rifle? She didn't know where would be best. But, she settled her eyes towards the center. "Please."
She slowly lifted her hand towards him whilst waiting for confirmation, and was prepared to attempt the process of putting on the backpack portion and wielding the rifle part upon his affirmation, if made.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 2, 2015 21:47:23 GMT -5
She was quick to use the common diminutive of his name, which was much more pleasing that the actual praise. Had he been in human form, he probably would have hugged her. (And sometime in the future, he’d realize what a mistake that would have been and how lucky they both were that he was not in his human form.)
The happy feelings started to flicker out as the conversation continued, and it became increasingly clear that Gardenia didn’t have much interest in actually trying to use him. She told him she would, naturally, because it would be rude to outright refuse and she gave him the impression of a kind person. He felt a little guilty, because he had just kind of pressured her into it in his excitement, though he wasn’t sure he could amend things now. Saying something like nevermind wouldn’t go over very well; it never did. It just made both parties feel awkward, and the last thing he wanted was to make Gardenia feel awkward. Though, it was probably already too late for that, considering the way she had turned around.
Be cool, he told himself. It was silly to freak out over her putting her bow down. He was a little worried, because grandmother had said that the feelings of the two halves of the pair played a major role in the compatibility, and Gardenia didn’t look as pumped about this as he was. But he was able to relax himself with the idea that them not being compatible wouldn’t hurt her in any way; she wouldn’t even be able to pick him up if they weren’t. And then he could laugh it off, and encourage her to keep searching. He had managed to make this into a much bigger deal then it needed to be, but in the end it was just as simple as that. It either worked or it didn’t, and there wasn’t much you could do about it if it didn’t work out. Just move on and keep trying.
The solemn look on his face looked completely out of place as he looked up at Gardenia, though it wasn’t as though it could be seen anyway. He listened to her request fully, and though he didn’t understand her reasons behind it he gave a serious nod. “Okay, I won’t.” Yeah, it would be a little awkward if he accidentally changed back and ended up on top of her, but it seemed so much more serious than that—so much more important to her. So he’d heed her plea and take great care. “I swear it. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.” And he meant every word.
The more serious tone slowly floated from his voice, a more light hearted note taking its place as he moved on gently. “Don’t worry about setting anything on fire. I’ll only activate when you pull the trigger. You get to call all of the shots, solnishka.”
And almost as if that tender voice had never existed, he quickly switched to a more teasing tone. “But just imagine how badass you’ll look with a friggin’ flamethrower.”
|
|
|
Post by Gardenia Oslin on May 7, 2015 14:13:32 GMT -5
First step: completed. They had came to an agreement in regards to the terms of this trial. Gardenia exhaled; she hadn't realize how tense she had been in waiting for Misha's response. It was a relief that the boy took her request seriously, and certainly helped foster the growth of some trust in him. He wasn't being all grim about it, either. She appreciated the bit of levity he brought into the conversation.
Next came the hard part. Misha was a weapon. He's immobile in this form. She repeated this in her head, over and over again, as her hand reached the straps of his backpack. A significant portion of her focus was dedicated simply to keeping her breath steady.
First contact.
And then she pulled her fingers back.
In that brief instant she had experienced a unique sensation. Equal parts alien and exhilarating. Gardenia had no idea how she would have put it into words. But she knew what it was. Misha's soul wavelength. "S-sorry, once more," she uttered, steeling her nerves.
Second contact.
Her soul's wavelength fluctuated erratically at first. But, the meister pushed on and grasped the pack's strap. Her other hand was making it's way over to grab onto the rifle portion of Misha's weapon form. Her radiant soul soon steadied itself. She wasn't going to let the light of their souls compete, but she wasn't going to let one shine over the other, either.
Warmth radiated throughout Gardenia as she made her attempt to lift the Demon Flamethrower up. It was a slow rise at first, but as she eased into it, Misha seemed to get progressively lighter in her hands. She slipped the first strap over her shoulder, and shifted the rifle into her right hand so as to ready the other.
Gardenia's index finger hovered over to the trigger. "Seems successful so far, Misha." She stated, more for her benefit then his. He could probably recognize that things were going well plainly enough, after all. "Just one more test, right?"
She cut the distance between the two of them and the target she had shot earlier in roughly a half. Flamethrowers couldn't shoot out too far, after all, right?
Misha's rifle tip raised up with Gardenia's arm, held out straight ahead. Kind of similar to her archery posture. Were it in an ordinary flamethrower, it would've perhaps been impressive to wield it single handed. But, Misha was surprisingly light weight. At least, in the hands of someone who had only held conventional weapons to compare to.
And she pulled the trigger.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 11, 2015 13:12:36 GMT -5
He felt a jolt, though it was such a brief contact that he couldn't tell if the sensations it brought hurt him or felt good. It was just a jolt of electricity, one that touched him to his very core, and it left him a little breathless. He was quiet as Gardenia composed herself, also looking a little caught off guard by the feeling. He took a deep breath and held it, waiting for her to reach out for him again. This time he'd treasure the feeling more, and try and understand it better.
The second time was quite different. It hurt at first, just a little. Almost like their wavelengths had clashed for a second, but then they slowly seemed to flow together. Misha found himself smiling, getting used to the feeling and watching as his body slowly began to burn. This he was more familiar with; the flames didn't hurt him, just assured him that he was prepared for action.
Now that he was properly held by Gardenia, he felt more at ease and was finally able to find his voice again. "Perfect! You're doing wonderfully~" His voice would be heard from behind, like he was talking over her shoulder. He gave a little chuckle, wondering if Gardenia felt as warm as he did. But he could ask about that later; for now, they'd put their teamwork to the test.
Actually using the flamethrower itself didn't require much skill: a vague sense of aim and a pull of the trigger was all that was really necessary. True strength in wielding a flamethrower came with practice -- with using the weapon and learning its ins-and-outs thoroughly; through timing and understanding of the flamethrower's limits. None of that was needed right now, though. Misha wasn't entirely sure how the partnering system worked, but just because they were compatible didn't mean that Gardenia wanted a flamethrower for a weapon. And he could respect that, though he'd admittedly miss this feeling. So all she needed to know was that the trigger activated the stream of flame.
And she executed that simple action beautifully. Misha felt the flames on his body spike, and then they moved and burst out from the barrel of the gun.
It started off blue at the base, and as the flames reached out they morphed into a bright orange color that devoured everything in their path -- which was thankfully just a target in this case. In a matter of seconds, little was left of the target from before.
Though Misha was absolutely ecstatic, it was tiring keeping up a steady stream. He leaned forward a little, starting to lose his breath. "Atta girl...now, slowly release the trigger..." It was important that she did so slowly, as a quick release sometimes choked him.
|
|
|
Post by Gardenia Oslin on May 11, 2015 23:22:14 GMT -5
Gardenia noticeably tensed when Misha spoke to her the first time. She had to consciously remind herself that he was still a flamethrower. It would take a lot of time to get used to his voice coming from what seemed to be over her shoulder.
The fire that streamed out in front of her was intense. She'd didn't quite know what to expect: she never tried out a flamethrower before. There was a world of difference between observing a flame at a distance and having that power at your beck and call. It wouldn't be right to say she had control over it. This was such an odd experience for the girl; the girl who had years of precise training with arrow and sword. They were simply not comparable.
And it was exhilarating.
Enraptured by the roaring fires, Misha's voice almost phased right past Gardenia's notice. Almost. Her grip on the trigger loosened slowly as instructed. The flames died out, leaving only the smoldering remnants of the target behind. He arm drifted down to her side, and she took a deep breath.
"Okay." Gardenia uttered, mostly to recenter her own thoughts. "Just a moment, Misha." She turned away from the target, and took the first strap of Misha's backpack off. She knelt down and placed the rifle portion on the floor, before slipping off the other end of the pack.
The meister backed up away from the weapon, giving a few feet distance between them for Misha to transform back. "That was... an experience, Misha. Thank you."
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 12, 2015 0:06:37 GMT -5
There was a moment where things went cold, the escape being cut off and the flames having nowhere to go. They eventually found their way back to Misha, and the warmth began to cycle through his body once more and prepare itself for another round, though the weapon knew there would not be another one today. One over-done target was enough for now. He was a little more concerned about the girl wielding him; though it was very unlikely, he was hoping that she hadn't gotten burned. Her hands hadn't been close enough to actually make contact with the flames, but it was still hot. Maybe he would look into buying her gloves, because her hands were so precious and capable of such beautiful things and they did not need to get burned.
He didn't get to voice his worries, as he felt her begin to separate from him. It was a lonely feeling, and he found himself getting a little cold again. He watched her gently remove the backpack and set him down, and he waited until she had distanced herself properly before he made his change. Transforming back into a human form was not quite as flashy as transforming into the weapon; there was a faint glow, like dying embers, and then he was back before her, sitting cross-legged on the ground. He lifted his arms and stretched, his shoulders popping with the motion.
Once all of his muscles were loose again, he was able to focus fully on Gardenia. He couldn't really gauge how she was feeling, and that made him a little nervous. But he gave her a small, tender smile nonetheless. "You're a natural." He just let that hang in the air, unsure of what would happen next. Would she leave, and then they wouldn't see each other again? He didn't think he could let that happen. Whether she wanted him as a partner or not, they were compatible. Which had to mean that they would be good friends, right?
He put his hands on his ankles and leaned forward, looking serious. "So what do you want to do?" Maybe he should stand up for this? But he still felt a little tired; he'd really need to work on his stamina. "I know we just met and stuff...but do you want to give us a shot?" His lips quirked into a smile at that, maybe an attempt to appear charming. He'd probably have to make a pretty good case for himself, since Gardenia didn't look like the flamethrower type in the first place. She might even be waiting for a bow to come along, so he had to try and find a way to make himself sound more appealing. But he wasn't really good with words; he couldn't string together anything fancy. He just said how he felt.
"I think we work beautifully together."
In that state, he felt most alive. Being on fire, spreading warmth. And he didn't know how long it would be before he could find someone else to wield him.
|
|