Post by Aegil on Jun 19, 2013 13:48:29 GMT -5
Shadow boxing.
The term is an old one well known to those of martial prowess. It is a phrase describing a process of training through imagining the steps in ones mind, going through the stages of form and whatnot without raising a finger.
Aegil wished she was doing that right now.
When Spectre had suggested shadow boxing, that specific description had prompted her to accept his unusual proposal. This however... this was far too literal.
A hiss of annoyance and pain flooded her lips, a narrow replacement of a string of curses she was sorely tempted to fling. Her cheek stung, the stark crimson blood dripping down her pale cheeks and neck. What stung more was the mocking laughter of her spiritual burden, only audiable by her through the bond they shared.
Shadow boxing. She should have known. Yet she had never entertained a moments doubt, a single instant of thought that he had meant it so literally. Well the shadow part anyways.
Her hood lay forgotten against the crest of her back, hair sticking uncomfortably to her stinging cheek and peeling away with a painful sensation as she tucked it behind her ear. She motioned a moment of time out so that she could unclasp the robe, tossing it aside with her belongings.
Spectre merely tilted his head, the thin stretch of empty space curling into a mocking grin. It was an eerie expression on a shadow, one who was nothing more then a mass of darkness in the guise of a thin and tall robed figure. Abnormally so.
Kicking off her sandles, Aegil took a moment to dig her feet into the earth, reveling in the scents of the glade. A familiar ache settled between her brows, a dull throb stretching to her temples as her body complained against the stretch of her essence. She had allowed Spectre a rare chance of control, so that he might draw on the essance pool that contributed to her abilities as he wished.
Sensing his hosts discomfort, Spectres form sank into the grass, slinking back to Aegils feet before pooling there in a loosed form. The wielder of shadows was certainly beginning to tire. Her palms were calloused, burning from the constant chafing her her staff in hand. Alongside the mild migrain, a slight breathlessness had taken hold of her, coupled with a spinning sensation similar to that when one begins to succumb to the beckoning lull of intoxication. Not terribly overwhelming but still uncomfortable.
Aegil was tempted to argue, but Spectre insisted a rest was in order.
"Sweet mistress... thou would not wish to succumb to a weary bode... correct?"
His voice slid like a slimy snake through her mind, schitzophrenic in its manner of jumping wildly through pitches and tones, softened the harsh growl into a sultry lull that so often could win when she was in a weary state. Today was no exception.
With a low noise of complaint she stalked to the edge of the small clearing, sinking heavily against a welcoming oak. She spent almost an hour like this in near comatose like state, almost meditative in the steady rythm of her breath. This glade was a good find. Located not too far from Wistvale, the area was much hidden from the main roads by thick foliage and entwining trees. It was quite a battle to even find this spot, let alone enter though Aegil had discovered a single entry point, a spot in the trees where the limbs parted in a slight frame, hidden by a plants large flopping leaves. It was private, beautiful and welcoming and for this she was greatful. The glade was flat, oval shaped and coated in thick, short grass and various small flowers. It was a nice enough location... to be beaten up by ones shadow at least.
When the symptoms of fatigue long faded and showed no signs of relapse, Spectre prompted her from her daze to return to training.
She lifted her body slowly and moved back into the clearings center. Her cheek had ceased bleeding, though she had made no effort to cleanse what had trickled down the side of her throat to hide beneath the neckline of her decripit robes. It made little difference. It only added to the various bruises around her ribs and limbs, as well as further cuts in these same places.
Her shadow crept out, slow and cautious before finding its footing a few feet away. Tendrils of shadow climbed into the figure again, though only as tall as her this time. Spectres attempt to reserve her energy might have appeared sweet but Aegil knew better.
The cretin did not bother to wait long as he twisted. From his base rose like a whip, a long tendril lashed out at her from the side. Aegil sidestepped, lowering a touch onto her heels. The hilt of her staff remained immobile, her motion moving the wethered item to block the tendril as it arched through the air, pausing only to solidify into a sword like shape, then comming down on her.
The success of her block was short lived. Unnoticed to her Spectre rose a small mound just before her, its weight slamming into her abdomen with minimal force. Her balance was nonexistant, the weight on her heels leaving her easy to topple. She rolled to her side slowly, shooting the shadowy being a glare as he only smiled back. He neednt say it aloud, she knew what his lesson had been there. A simple reminder to watch her stance.
Say it aloud... the thought distracted her quite suddenly as she mused... mulling over the wonder of the possibilty of Spectre communicating beyond her. Well.. that would be an experiment she might never conduct. One that required a trustworthy companion.
Something she was severly lacking... especially if her current situation was of any example.
The term is an old one well known to those of martial prowess. It is a phrase describing a process of training through imagining the steps in ones mind, going through the stages of form and whatnot without raising a finger.
Aegil wished she was doing that right now.
When Spectre had suggested shadow boxing, that specific description had prompted her to accept his unusual proposal. This however... this was far too literal.
A hiss of annoyance and pain flooded her lips, a narrow replacement of a string of curses she was sorely tempted to fling. Her cheek stung, the stark crimson blood dripping down her pale cheeks and neck. What stung more was the mocking laughter of her spiritual burden, only audiable by her through the bond they shared.
Shadow boxing. She should have known. Yet she had never entertained a moments doubt, a single instant of thought that he had meant it so literally. Well the shadow part anyways.
Her hood lay forgotten against the crest of her back, hair sticking uncomfortably to her stinging cheek and peeling away with a painful sensation as she tucked it behind her ear. She motioned a moment of time out so that she could unclasp the robe, tossing it aside with her belongings.
Spectre merely tilted his head, the thin stretch of empty space curling into a mocking grin. It was an eerie expression on a shadow, one who was nothing more then a mass of darkness in the guise of a thin and tall robed figure. Abnormally so.
Kicking off her sandles, Aegil took a moment to dig her feet into the earth, reveling in the scents of the glade. A familiar ache settled between her brows, a dull throb stretching to her temples as her body complained against the stretch of her essence. She had allowed Spectre a rare chance of control, so that he might draw on the essance pool that contributed to her abilities as he wished.
Sensing his hosts discomfort, Spectres form sank into the grass, slinking back to Aegils feet before pooling there in a loosed form. The wielder of shadows was certainly beginning to tire. Her palms were calloused, burning from the constant chafing her her staff in hand. Alongside the mild migrain, a slight breathlessness had taken hold of her, coupled with a spinning sensation similar to that when one begins to succumb to the beckoning lull of intoxication. Not terribly overwhelming but still uncomfortable.
Aegil was tempted to argue, but Spectre insisted a rest was in order.
"Sweet mistress... thou would not wish to succumb to a weary bode... correct?"
His voice slid like a slimy snake through her mind, schitzophrenic in its manner of jumping wildly through pitches and tones, softened the harsh growl into a sultry lull that so often could win when she was in a weary state. Today was no exception.
With a low noise of complaint she stalked to the edge of the small clearing, sinking heavily against a welcoming oak. She spent almost an hour like this in near comatose like state, almost meditative in the steady rythm of her breath. This glade was a good find. Located not too far from Wistvale, the area was much hidden from the main roads by thick foliage and entwining trees. It was quite a battle to even find this spot, let alone enter though Aegil had discovered a single entry point, a spot in the trees where the limbs parted in a slight frame, hidden by a plants large flopping leaves. It was private, beautiful and welcoming and for this she was greatful. The glade was flat, oval shaped and coated in thick, short grass and various small flowers. It was a nice enough location... to be beaten up by ones shadow at least.
When the symptoms of fatigue long faded and showed no signs of relapse, Spectre prompted her from her daze to return to training.
She lifted her body slowly and moved back into the clearings center. Her cheek had ceased bleeding, though she had made no effort to cleanse what had trickled down the side of her throat to hide beneath the neckline of her decripit robes. It made little difference. It only added to the various bruises around her ribs and limbs, as well as further cuts in these same places.
Her shadow crept out, slow and cautious before finding its footing a few feet away. Tendrils of shadow climbed into the figure again, though only as tall as her this time. Spectres attempt to reserve her energy might have appeared sweet but Aegil knew better.
The cretin did not bother to wait long as he twisted. From his base rose like a whip, a long tendril lashed out at her from the side. Aegil sidestepped, lowering a touch onto her heels. The hilt of her staff remained immobile, her motion moving the wethered item to block the tendril as it arched through the air, pausing only to solidify into a sword like shape, then comming down on her.
The success of her block was short lived. Unnoticed to her Spectre rose a small mound just before her, its weight slamming into her abdomen with minimal force. Her balance was nonexistant, the weight on her heels leaving her easy to topple. She rolled to her side slowly, shooting the shadowy being a glare as he only smiled back. He neednt say it aloud, she knew what his lesson had been there. A simple reminder to watch her stance.
Say it aloud... the thought distracted her quite suddenly as she mused... mulling over the wonder of the possibilty of Spectre communicating beyond her. Well.. that would be an experiment she might never conduct. One that required a trustworthy companion.
Something she was severly lacking... especially if her current situation was of any example.
