(Safer) Heishuro's Training

[Kitsuné]

Splinters of fine wood, flashing like bullets, radiated from a great oak. The forest's deep slumber was so rudely interrupted by the whistles of impact. After many more deafening thuds, the oak began to uproot, before slowly dropping to the ground. Heishuro Maruchi wiped innumerable beads of sweat from his glowering forehead. He paused and stared down at his sore feet, although the metal bone inside was fine, the skin sheltering them were bruised and scraped.

Is this what I'm going to do until she finds me? Rot in this forest until she decides she wants to find me? The red clothed fighter had thought about this uncountable times, but the same thought had always prevailed. He didn't know what his sister wanted him to do in this strange new world.

Maruchi knelt down on the ground, gritting his teeth as he massaged his aching feet. He gazed upward at the time, letting the darkening sky heal his wounded thoughts. Without hesitation he got up and began to wander aimlessly, not apprehending his destination, but hoping somewhere would find him.

Before long; luck had favoured him. He found a glimmering stream of purity;salubrious waters that whispered beckonings to him, luring him into the unknown. Naïveté overcame his guard even in the new world he had come to, so he found himself lowering himself into the water before he could think about it. Although his clothes were still on, they seemed to part from his skin as the smooth brush of water enveloped him like silky velvet. He let himself drift further into the depth as he closed his eyes and let a crescent smile finally spring across his face.

But before long the grin faltered beneath the weight of fear - he felt as if he was being forced through a never ending tunnel, as it contracted. Breath couldn't seem to escape from him, instead it puffed inside him, expanding and tugging on his heart. Before he could even summon the strength to fight towards the surface, darkness obscured his vision.


***

"Urghh..." Heishuro let out an automatic groan as his senses returned to him, "what happened?" He voiced out his thoughts to force himself to fully understand them, before the answer flooded back to him. The waves... they swallowed me. Maruchi mused, not speaking this time to mask the inevitable fear that must have been ripe in his voice.

The waves had floated his unconscious body downstream, before it has stopped where the river thinned to make room for the spectacular structure that the fighter marveled at his failure of noticing earlier. Perfection dispersed from the large spherical building that gleamed with a sparkle that could be called nothing less that magical. Thousands of small rectangular panels plastered the dome shaped construction, each with their own unique glint of light in the upper right corner.

Without words, without thoughts, Heishuro Maruchi raised himself from the bank and began to walk towards the building, entranced by magnificence.

[Safer]

O-O...

Jesus CHRIST you've gotten better! Welcome to the Advanced class, mother****er.

Next lesson: Orysius finds Heishuro, and leads him to his room. Look at Orysius' profile for his personality before you do this, or DIE.

One thing about your lesson though: Naïve is a French word that we borrow in English, so "Naiveness" is not the correct way to put it into noun form. The correct way to do this would be "Naïveté". Also, if you're wondering about the double-dotted "i" and the accented "e", Microsoft Word should automatically turn them into that if you just type "Naive" or "Naitvete".

[Kitsuné]

Originally Posted by Safer

O-O...

Jesus CHRIST you've gotten better! Welcome to the Advanced class, mother****er.

Next lesson: Orysius finds Heishuro, and leads him to his room. Look at Orysius' profile for his personality before you do this, or DIE.

One thing about your lesson though: Naïve is a French word that we borrow in English, so "Naiveness" is not the correct way to put it into noun form. The correct way to do this would be "Naïveté". Also, if you're wondering about the double-dotted "i" and the accented "e", Microsoft Word should automatically turn them into that if you just type "Naive" or "Naitvete".

I love you.

I actually wrote this a while ago, so look at my first round tourney thread, that's a more accurate measurement of my current level.

YAYZ.

[Kitsuné]

Jesus Christ, that building is huge! An obvious thought perhaps, although still one that the likes of Maruchi would consider voicing. Light ripped through the air from the Dome, bouncing off the semi-sphere in confusion; as illuminated panels crossed auroras.

“Wait a second…” he breathed, rhetorically conversing with himself. “That’s the Dome!”

A smile appeared at the edge of his lips as he spoke, crescent with realisation. It hadn’t at all wavered by the time Heishuro mentally portrayed his memory…

“I’ll be someone!” a high-pitched male voice screeched out, “I’m going to make something of my life!”

Heishuro gazed at the house from where the shout had come from, bemused by the viscous shouts in the calm village of Gailay. Bewildered still, he cautiously approached the large cream-coloured door; only to wrench himself back, giving way to the child hurtling out the door.

“Forlan…!” a female voice pursued him, which was in-turn followed by a plump woman, dressed in revolting green dress.

Giving up on the quickly fleeing child, she turned to go back inside her house; though not before she was interrupted by the still-aghast Maruchi.

“Err… excuse me?” he asked tentatively, not sure of the woman’s temperament with strangers.

“What is it?!” she snapped immediately, as if she were expecting the question; turning as she spoke.

He considered just walking away without another word, but curiosity nipped at his lips, dragging out the words:

“What was that about? he blasted back at her, with equal amounts of venom and impatience as her words had.

She sighed and came closer to Heishuro, her posture more friendly.

“That was my son; Forlan,” she began , breathing heavily. “He wanted to go to the Dome; to train and become a mighty swordsman.”

“A swordsman?” he couldn’t prevent himself from exclaiming in disbelief. “He must be about what? Seven?”

“Fifteen, actually,” she responded with a tone of annoyance clear in her voice. “He has Elven blood in his veins, so he will be small until the age of sixteen; before growing rapidly. Didn’t you know that?” she finished with a smile, probably at the look of confusion on Maruchi’s face.

Without waiting for his mind to process the thoughts of elves, he focussed his puzzlement on the Dome.

“What is the Dome then?” It sounds like a stadium,” he spoke with satisfaction, at her returned confusion at the mention of a stadium, though she didn’t seem to care.

“The Dome is a place for warriors and wizards to find power, knowledge… a load of baloney if you ask me,” she finished, already retreating to her house.

Sighing heavily, Heishuro dismissed the thought exactly as she had; as a load of “baloney”.

Yet here it was.

Power… if he was to survive long enough for his murderer-of-a-sister to find him, he’d have to have it. So why not spend a little time training?

Baring a toothy grin, he advanced enthusiastically towards the spectacular sight in front of him.

Lights had ripped through the air previously, so Maruchi couldn’t see the base of the building. He was much closer now, and could make out a wooden-bolted door; in complete contrast to the perfection of it’s surroundings. Reaching the door, he un-bolted it quickly, ready for anything his mind could bear to comprehend.

“Dude…” he croaked slowly as his jaw dropped, disbelief animated in his hoarse voice.

Lavish carpet rolled out as he creaked the giant door shut, the same red one that would protrude from a limousine bearing royalty. Gold ribbons bordered the edge of the carpet; harmonious with the surrounding red. Layered out on the floor, the roll would have blended nicely with the blood-tinted crimson floors; had the gold not lined the edges. With equal radiance, the liquid walls aluminised metallic; almost distorting the previously imperceptible abandoned front desk, as exuberant and ruby as it’s habitat. About the size of a regular bedroom,

“Dressed for the job, aren‘t you darlin‘?” a crisp Irish accent; strong, yet feminine, crept from behind Maruchi

Spinning on one heel, he raised his arms into a defensive stance; Xuriken’s bonds scraping again one another in tension. Though they soon loosened as Heishuro found himself looking into the lightened eyes of a beauty, no less.

About a head smaller then himself, the woman’s chest-length hair bled a watered red, though not at all similar to the surrounding room. Her eyes were framed perfectly by her exactly parallel eyelashes, all blended into one another, yet all waving in the same direction. Her pale skin might have looked ill in contrast, but to the contrary; a angelic glow radiated from her face; from her hazel eyes; from her dark lips; from her jewelled hair. She wore a plain orange T-shirt and a jet-black skirt, which showed only her bare feet. She was a small build, yet in no way skinny.

Realising his arms were still raised, he lowered them to his sides swiftly; yet tension was cut by her sweet giggle.

“I’m no enemy!” she giggled, “but it’s okay. I’m Shannon by the way,” she spoke softly, her laughter dying as she extended a hand that the fighter wasn’t to proud to have clasped in a sweaty handshake.

Pulling away with well-disguised repulsion, she seemed all too happy to speak again. “Are you Haseko Malachi?”

Conscious of his reddening face, he replied curtly. “Heishuro Maruchi.”

“Oh,” Shannon hesitated with her words. “Sorry,” her accent slightly overcame the word, but the martial artist took it as an apology. “Mister Maruchi…” she said with a more business-like tone as she searched through a list of papers on the desk. “Orysius Solian will be your teacher, for he is well practiced in elemental combat,” she read from one sheet of paper as she pulled it out from the large stack of files.

Settling down the paper on the desk, she turned to Maruchi, ready for his inevitable questions.

“I’ve got a few questions…” he began as his brow set into a “V” shape between his eyes. “How do you know my name? And that I would come here? And that I use elemental combat?” he questioned, biting his lip between words to stop himself from spitting.

Baring her angelic-white teeth, she grinned openly, then recited an answer that was so perfected; Heishuro wondered how many times these exact questions had been asked. “Mister Maruchi, the Dome holds knowledge incomprehensible for one mind; do you really think that we had no idea you were coming? Or your fighting style?” she spoke with sincerity, and splashes of humour at the fighter’s ever-changing facial expression.

Taking a moment to absorb the new information, he silently marvelled at the Dome’s efficiency.

“Ahh…” Shannon breathed, interrupting Heishuro’s thoughts. “Here’s Orysius now!” she announced with a refreshed enthusiasm, much to the martial artist’s despair.

Spinning round, Maruchi found himself staring at a tell black man (well, he had a good few inches on Heishuro). He was dressed fully in black; with a jacket and trousers. He also carried a blue-hilted lonsword. With blue eyes and blonde hair; had he been white and lived on earth during the wars, he could have qualified to be a Nazi. Heishuro remembered Fujima’s makeshift history lessons with a smile. “Hitler shot his own head off. But of course, he should have got me in there… I‘d have roundhouse kicked it off!

Snapping his focus back to the man, he watched Orysius approach, and eventually stop in front of the pair.

“Thanks Shannon,” he spoke in a friendly growl. “I can take it from here.”

Nodding in reponse, Shannon flickered a wave to both the men, then opened a door that blended well into the wall.

“Heishuro?” the black-cloaked man confirmed. “Dressed for the Dome, aren’t you? Follow me son, the lighting in here is terrible.”

Obliging without an answer, Maruchi followed his teacher through a different door, adjacent to the one Shannon had used. Leading into a similarly coloured corridor, Solian glanced over his shoulder at his student.

“First time in here?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah… how’d you know?” the red-clothed warrior pondered out loud.

“Well, you look at the walls as if they might attack you... which is common,” he added, having seen the flash of red on Maruchi’s cheeks.

“Yeah, but I swear they’re…” he started, a look of thought ripe on his face.

“Fading?” Orysius finished for him, smiling at Heishuro.

Examining the walls closer, he realised his teacher was right. The once crimson walls seemed to be fading into an mystified liquid; still red; yet barely visible.

“That means we’re getting closer to our destination,” he explained with a subtle wink.

As if on queue, the walls vanished altogether, and a large metal door appeared in front of the pair; colourless, yet solid and visible.

Wrenching the door open with one arm, Orysius led Maruchi into a more traditional corridor: Brown carpet; grey walls; thousands of identical black doors each side of the corridor.

Orysius continued down the corridor; Heishuro at his side, for many more minutes; silent even with his footsteps.

“Here we go…” he spoke finally, breaking the muted sound.

Jamming a small key into a lock, he opened a random door, swinging it open and gesturing for his student to enter.

“What’s this?” Maruchi asked as he strolled into the room.

Staying outside the room, Orysius spoke with an unmasked grin.

“This, Heishuro Maruchi;” he began in an emotionless voice. “Is your room,” he finished with a slam; the one that occurs when a door closes.

With that, Heishuro was left to his thoughts.

[Safer]

..uh, where did you get the notion that Orysius was black? He could easily pass for Ayran, my friend. He's as white as me.

Anyway, not much was wrong with this. Your characterization was fine, but one little thing: you used parentheses in the post. Parentheses are considered rather informal, and while some authors can display them finely, it is better just to avoid them. In place of them, use "--" before and after the sentence/phrase/clause which you wish to enclose with parentheses. If you're in Microsoft word, "--" will turn into a nice long dash, and it will look very nice.

I've yet to decide what I want you to do next. So, await my instruction on AIM.

[Kitsuné]

I got that about the parentheses; but about Orysius' skin colour...

Well, perhaps it's coming from a country where you're either white, tanned or black, but I call this black.

[Kitsuné]

Maruchi blinked a trio as stared at the room before him. It was… perfect.

Martial arts posters hid the wallpaper; martial arts mats plastered over the floors; martial arts magazines were piled in the cornered, untouched. There was even a red armchair in the corner with “Maruchi” bathed on it.

“Dude…” Heishuro’s eyes widened in disbelief, “how?”

As if in response, a small note drifted to the floor in front of the confused fighter, seemingly from the red hammock that hung discreetly in the corner. Scrabbling it up with haste, Maruchi read it aloud:

“Your room changes instantly as you walk in, morphing to your preferences; well that makes sen-” Heishuro stopped in his tracks. In unison, a rattle at the door ensued; and the note changed to, “open the door.”

For the first time since coming to the Dome, chills nipped at his spine. Nevertheless, he obeyed; yet taking his time as he tiptoed to his door, cautious as he creaked it open.

“Maruchi?” a rasp burned through as the door opened.

Instinctively, Heishuro pivoted to his left, leaving his right side facing outward.

“Is that a yes?” an unsteady reply was quickly returned.

Glancing outwards, the tattooed fighter saw an elderly man — mid sixties? — standing in the doorway, a clipboard hovering in front of him, a red pen levitated slightly over it.

“Err… yeah, I’m Heishuro Maruchi.” He pulled the door open further, gesturing for the man to enter.

Laughing, the man shook his head, “no thank-you. I’ve got some more work to do.” He began to leave at the site of his clipboard, the pen dragging an acute tick over it.

Heishuro felt his face burn as the man walked away; you‘ve got to realise that you‘re not famous here. You‘re just another tick on the ol‘ clipboard, Maruchi mused to himself as he slumped into his chair.

Sighing, he lifted the “Martial Arts Today”, magazine from the top of the pile near his chair. Flicking through, he exclaimed as he learnt more from the Earth magazine.

“Ahh…” he breathed in glee. “Chavo Amarez lost the World Championship…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mists of reality washed his vision as Heishuro opened his eyes, his magazine open on his chest.

“Mhhh…” he groaned. “Must've dozed off...”

Wearily rising from his chair — with partial difficulty — Maruchi whisked a searching look about his room, which seemed unchanged.

Except for...

There was no sight of Xuriken, whatsoever. It had been in the room when he had fallen asleep, so the thievery must have answered his slumber. Despite him overturning him room in a frantic search, he knew that his hunt was pointless; it had been stolen.

A hysteria of panic haunting him, the fighter fled his room, on pursuit of his bandit.

OoC: It’s short, but I had no idea what to do.

[Kitsuné]

“****!“ Maruchi bust his door open, tossing his head side to side.

Yet the halls were empty.

Gritting his teeth, he turned the to his left side, the opposite of where he had come from; and bolted down the hall. He felt the bond of his weapon tug uncomfortably inside, and set down the hall with haste.

Desertion played to his favour at this point, for Heishuro flailed his arms powerfully as he sprinted down the corridor. Squinting, he vaguely made out a black spot, bobbing vertically.

“Hey!” he yelled out, an extra burst of hope expressed vocally.

He slowed his pace with his shout, but the dot gave no such gesture; a dark cloak flailed as it disappeared through a pair of colourless doors.

Sprinting down the hallway, he drove a forearm through the doors as the fighter reached them, feeling a strange haze of peace shroud his anger upon impact.

He found himself gazing into a labyrinth of boxes; of all the shapes, sizes, colours and materials imaginable.

“Get back here!” he yelled wildly; and found himself amused at the echo.

Receiving no response, he stumbled through the cardboard variety, knocking them astray with insignificance: his mind was set on his other half in weaponry.

Stopping dead, his mind fell upon an idea, and he silently cussed at his own idiocy for not earlier musing it. He let his beat soften, his mind wander and his limbs hang as he recognised the tangibility of the link between himself and Xuriken. A mental voice tugged at him, and Heishuro set of in said direction, continuing in his earlier blunders.

Squinting as he trekked, Maruchi bared a tooth in a amused grin as he saw a cloak whistle through a pair of silver doors—about ten feet away.

Ramming into yet another pair of doors—with pointlessly restrained difficulty—the martial artist continued the pursuit.

OoC: Bleh.