Post by Annalise on Jun 2, 2016 2:50:42 GMT
"It’s never been about bettering others, only bettering myself!"
Annalise Lv1 | The water shuddered as the sudden weight of a stone ruptured the pristine surface of its momentary peace, the same stone meeting the ripples thrice more as they spread out into the body of the lake before the flattened sliver of earth no longer held the momentum to push on and sank beneath the surface. A deep sigh dropped from the woman's lips as she sat with her feet of the stone pier beneath the endless labyrinthine streets of Port Noir. It had been two days since she let go and grieved for her brother, but something hung heavy on her. She had hoped that her journey to the second floor and the lake would afford her the quiet to reflect and determine what the yoke that had been thrust upon her was, but no such luck was to be had. The boisterous rabble of Port Noir afforded silence not even to themselves, the shouts and constant ringing of bells becoming a horde like drone of monotony, It would have succumbed to the simplicity of white noise had it not been so obnoxiously loud, holding into the wee hours of the morning. Still, there were spots few and far between where one could find solace. Annalise had found a spot situated beneath a bridge aligned with shops, the dock underneath serving as a place to send and receive shipments to other parts of the edge of town, and (as it seemed) very rarely to the other side of the lake. A quick question to a passing worker brought her attention to the massive income disparity between Port Noir and it's neighbor across the lake. She wondered if the exchange of living in a hovel would be worth the peace and quiet she would be afforded. She ultimately decided that it would be better to at least eat on a regular basis, reminding herself of the abysmally low provisioning skill she possessed. She removed the piece of bread she had been given from her inventory, taking care to at least finish the roll of marbled rye before it's durability was gone. She had another hour, but being near water with an item like bread made her not want to take the risk of losing durability to moisture. And so the woman sat, her shock of red hair ruffled by the maritime breeze that washed up from the lake. Her eyes seemed distant, lost in thought as she let her memories replay. She owed so much to someone that was gone in an instant. She was lost, and ultimately alone, trapped within the confines of a never ending game of death. Her hand pushed through her inventory, dropping her simple rapier into her hand, the light weight and balance feeling just like when she had begun fencing. The end of the hilt nestled perfectly into her hand, as though the weapon was made for her. She stopped herself, realizing the thought was stupid. Of course it was. It was her starting item. The game would adjust everything to fit her physical preferences, even balancing the blade for her. With a sigh she gave a gentle flourish before swinging herself up onto the cobblestone pier, her feet dropping into a stance. A little bit of practice was all she needed to clear her head, surely. Every thrust was made with utter precision, pushing her form to the exact extent she had learned. The poise in her lunge and the grace of her parry all cemented into the very fiber of her muscle memory. It was a mindless, numbing, and consuming activity that demanded all of her focus to refine, lest she drop her form in her time of need. And yet the nagging persisted, the dull ache of something not quite there kept pulling her out of her body, each time her stance seeming to shift, becoming more aggressive, more desperate until she suddenly sheathed her rapier with a groan of frustration. She covered her face with her hands and screamed, her palms muting the noise until her anger had subsided. It was here that she noticed a man she had not before. Perhaps he had been there the whole time, or maybe he simply arrived when she was too absorbed in her practice to notice, but either way, the man was there, and she was rather embarrassed. "Do you normally watch strangers practice their swordsmanship? Or is it just something particular to this day?" |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS - EDITS BY ANGELO OF SAO-RPG