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 Posted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 8:48 pm
❀ Page 2 ❀
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 01. Table of Contents
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 02. Entering the Academy
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 03. PRP - Under the Blue Skies
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 04. PRP/Battle - Your Mother
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 05. PRP/Battle - Boutique Blowout
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 06. PRP/Battle - It's in My Bra!
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 07. PRP - Just a Reflex
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 08. Solo Battle - Broken Beauty, Broken Armor
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 09. PRP - Van's Make-Up Magic
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 10. PRP - No Tricks This Time
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 11. Solo Battle - Split Victory
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 12. The Aftermath
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 13. Commencement
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 14. Solo Battle - Déjà Vu
✿✿✿✿✿✿ 15. PRP - Stubborn Minds!
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Posted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 11:07 pm
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿ENTERING THE ACADEMY✿✿✿✿✿I suppose that I’m obligated in some way to record this so-called milestone in my life. Father finally decided to allow me to attend the Academy, even though I’ve been training under him and Long for the past twelve or so years. He insists that it’s because I need to work on my ‘social skills’—living secluded from other Lunarians my age, apparently, is not good for me. I am more than socially capable, though! I suspect the real reason I’m finally enrolled is that he realizes that I can fight. Right? It can’t just be through Mom’s and Long’s influence that I’m here now—I’ve certainly learned enough in the past twelve years that I can hold my own in a fight. Hell, I could probably beat down the best of those kids, especially in close combat. No one trains as hard as I do, after all.
✿✿✿✿✿As for attending the Academy itself... I’m not terribly nervous. I’ve attended strictly martial arts academies before. This Academy is supposed to be more all-encompassing, but what’s a couple of books on top of practicing animal fists? Admittedly, I am a bit concerned about what looks to be a ‘Battle Ethics’ class. Does that sound like a colossal waste of time, or what?
✿✿✿✿✿Anyway, Long’s been a private instructor in quán khí đạo ever since he himself graduated the Academy, and he assures me that I’ve been making excellent progress. He wouldn’t lie to me about such a thing—he’s as much of a prodigy as prodigies go, having graduated the institution at the age of thirteen. Even though I’m eighteen now, I’m glad to say that I can at least keep abreast of his expectations. One day I’ll do them all proud, and they’ll never be able to question my sex again.
✿✿✿✿✿Still, I do love to look pretty. My áo dài for tomorrow is already lying out on my bed. I picked the short purple and lavender one this time (the color of royalty, of course!), one of my favorites. It’s a good idea to make a positive impression on everyone I meet—who knows when a connection will come in handy? Truly, a pretty face is so difficult to turn down.
✿✿✿✿✿And hey, dear journal, I know what you’re thinking. I’m definitely not on the lookout for boys right now. Those hormonal jerks can eye me all they want, but that’s as much as they get. I am so above relationships. So far—I don’t need anyone but myself. I want to be in and out of this school as quickly as possible. Only then will I achieve the fighter rank. Only then will I be able to fight alongside my father and brother for the Legion. And perhaps only then... will Father tell me that I’m more than just a daughter. I want to be seen as a worthy fighter, not just as a pretty girl (I’ve got that down, thanks to Mom). In Lunaria, the Academy is just the first step of many, but at least it’s a step in the right direction.
✿✿✿✿✿Alas, it’s time for bed. I can’t have dark circles marring my clear complexion for my first day!✿ Âu Tuyết Vân✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
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Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 6:17 pm
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿PRP - UNDER THE BLUE SKIES✿✿✿✿✿I’ve only time for a quick entry right now—class (Battle Ethics, oh dear! At least Weapons History is done for the day) is about to start in a few moments.
✿✿✿✿✿It’s only my third day attending the Academy, and I’m proud to say that I’ve been able to keep my habit of jogging to Cherry Tree Hill to have lunch in between classes. It’s something I’ve done almost every day for as long as I remember. The old cherry tree is a wonderful place to simply sit and ponder, and it’s almost always blissfully quiet... not to mention that jogging in and of itself is an excellent way to exercise.
✿✿✿✿✿I’m obviously not the only one who feels this way, though, because I ran into a boy named Qian Jianyu this afternoon. I’m under the impression that he had just finished practicing with his bow and arrow. He’s also an academy student, though I’ve yet to see him around. Seeing as he’s apparently a long-range fighter, however, we’re probably not going to have many classes together. Ah, but this isn’t the reason I’m writing. I meet too many people to write about all of them! Jianyu is a special case. He is just... incredibly awkward. It astonishes me. Now, I’ve yet to pinpoint what causes this in boys, though I suspect that it may have had to do with the fact that I possess (if I may) exceptional curves. That’s typically the reason boys go all red-faced around girls like me, right?
✿✿✿✿✿Well, we made a bit of small talk about the Academy, his father’s profession—he’s a tattoo artist! Such a novelty. The best part of our conversation was probably just the fact that poor Jianyu didn’t seem to know how to react to anything I said. He perpetually wore a rather perplexed expression on his face, regardless of whether I had posed a question, or a simple statement. Even so, I’d have to say that the compliments were simply the best. He was so awkward in accepting them. He must not receive them often, for when one is blessed with as many compliments as me, one has to learn to accept them with grace! Jianyu has no such grace.
✿✿✿✿✿In retrospect, I feel a little bad for taking advantage of his awkwardness for my own amusement. I did need some fun after the clearly abhorrent Weapons History class, of course, but Jianyu probably could have done without my subtle ridiculing. I’ll make it up to him the next time I see him, I hope, though if I catch him after a class like Weapons History again, there are no guarantees as to how much I feel like teasing him again.
✿✿✿✿✿One more thing: I can’t believe he turned down my spring rolls! They are absolutely the best concoction ever known to Lunaria (okay, maybe just Văn Lang Lunaria). I’m certainly going to have to warm him up to those—maybe I’ll make it a point to save a few for the next time I see him. This isn’t just to incite another highly amusing awkward response, I swear.
✿✿✿✿✿Ah—the professor just walked in. Wish me luck with Battle Ethics!✿ Âu Tuyết Vân✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
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Posted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 2:02 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿PRP/BATTLE - YOUR MOTHER✿✿✿✿✿Ugh, at least my face is fine.
✿✿✿✿✿I didn’t realize how much of a toll yesterday’s afternoon spar took on me until I woke up this morning to find bruises all over my upper body and legs. And the uphill run I just finished—that was brutal as well. My thighs were screaming in pain with every step. Needless to say, I’m glad to be sitting at Cherry Tree Hill right now. I’m vain enough that I had to wear long sleeves and pants today, but I’m really looking forward to class, for once. It should be entertaining to see Bataar all black and blue with a generous smattering of purple—all dealt by yours truly.
✿✿✿✿✿Oh, and just wait until rumors start to circulate about what happened to him! Especially the ones about getting beaten by a girl, hah! The brute deserves it; you’d think his idiocy would have killed him by now. He must be extremely lucky, or the fates keep him around for comic relief. I suppose I’d do the same in their position.
✿✿✿✿✿It’s laughable, but I’d be willing to fight him again just for the practice. Winning all the time does pad the ego a bit, in any case. I was able to pull a decent scissors kick near the very end, before the Noble passed out. My speed needs some conditioning, which I’ll work on after my legs stop aching so. Next time, he won’t even have time to see it coming. Though, seriously now, I’m confident I’ll fight him at least once more... I wasn’t able to wholly reciprocate the blows I received, ahem to the chest, because the weakling passed out before I could thoroughly smear him across the landscape. It’s okay. I can learn patience for the sake of my vindictiveness.
✿✿✿✿✿Still, I wonder which of my classmates I have to thank for the unexpected battle as I was walking home yesterday. I’ve yet to decide whether I want to smack the fool upside the head or thank him for an easy fight. Bataar seems to be the type to be easily duped, after all, and it’s clear that someone told him there’d be a fight waiting for him just down the road from my house. Or perhaps, that someone thought they’d see the ever lovely Âu Tuyết Vân finally lose a battle? Unfortunately for him, I won.
✿✿✿✿✿Of course I’m beyond smug. It’s almost too smug, seeing as I’m making up for the fact that my parents were quite underwhelmed by this first accomplishment of mine. He’s only an Academy student, I know, but it’s only the third day in and I’ve already managed to prove my strength. I know—I’m not a lady this way, but since that’s already been established, I only wish that my father would acknowledge my aptitude for fighting as well. Anyway, the sun is finally up, and it’s about time I head to class to gloat. I’ll let you know, dear journal, if anything else of consequence occurs. In the Academy, it seems like this is to be expected.✿ Âu Tuyết Vân✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
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Posted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 2:06 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿PRP/BATTLE - BOUTIQUE BLOWOUT✿✿✿✿✿It’s the end of the week—you know what that means, dear journal! Another long and overly-detailed entry about the things I bought in the market today! I kid; actually, shopping today was more interesting than most days. You could say I met an interesting girl while browsing in the dress shoppe today. ✿✿✿✿✿Her name is Mayu. A Noble, unfortunately, which is probably why what happened today happened. You see, I was browsing through the dresses when she began making small talk, asking me if I came there often, whether I went to the Academy—the usual, right? As girls we clicked pretty well... I mean, we were shopping, after all. And then, I saw this spectacular blue qipao. Not my usual style, I know, but dear journal, you have to see it to understand. I bounded to it and grabbed hold of it first, but then this little wretch Mayu comes and has the gall to say she had it all along! ✿✿✿✿✿Of course, I wouldn’t have any of this. I took it and walked away, even as she began to insult me. I don’t understand why people bother with those—insults are always ungrounded against me. Hmph. I guess this angered her, because the next thing I knew I no longer had the dress. Mayu had taken it. Now that I think about it, I’m a little ashamed to say that we got into a bit of a fight in the dress store. It started out like a normal fight, but by the end it had just turned into a catfight. ✿✿✿✿✿Oh dear Goddess, we trashed the entire place... we did our best to clean up afterward and compensate the damage, but I hope Miss Shopowner doesn’t ban me from the store! It would absolutely break my heart... but in the end—and I’ll admit this to no one but you, lovely journal—Mayu won. She ended up letting me have the dress, though. And yes, I know I usually wouldn’t take something like that under the circumstances, but this qipao was beautiful. Anyway, I guess I’ll let Mayu borrow it from time to time... I almost feel bad for taking it from her. ✿✿✿✿✿Now that I think about it some more, I kinda like her. She’s a good fighter, from what I can tell... I definitely came out of there with a couple of decent bruises. There’s a sort of spunk about her that I can’t exactly put into words, but she seemed like someone I could grow to be friends with. She was a friendly sort, quite pretty, and clearly had a good fashion sense if that dress was any indication. A little bare-faced, but that can easily be fixed with a minor intervention. Heh, as long as it doesn’t make her prettier than me. And then of course, I like her simply for the fact that she relinquished the dress to me. I’m sure it looks better on me anyway. I like, too, that she was willing to share... pooling our closets would benefit the both of us!✿✿✿✿✿I hope to see her again, though. Perhaps I’ll see her when class rolls around the day after tomorrow. I’ll at least keep an eye out for her. ✿ Âu Tuyết Vân✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
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Posted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 2:07 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿PRP/BATTLE - IT'S IN MY BRA!✿✿✿✿✿I hate rats. Okay, so I’ve always hated them, and the filth associated with them, because my mother managed to beat the importance of cleanliness into me at an early age. Our lovely house in the jungle is certainly the cleanest spot of land you’ll ever find in the jungle. This is beside the point, though.
✿✿✿✿✿It’s late, past the second hour of the night. I just finished taking, what, three showers? The reason for this being that I had spent too much time in Bataar’s neck of the woods, lying on the ground there for who knows how long. As if that wasn’t already enough of an explanation, but the place was running all over with rats! I should have known better than to try to fight him there—the brute managed to land a single punch to my face because I’d been distracted by one of those animals! A rat! As I was saying, it’s not that I never hated them before, but now, even the mention of the creature is going to bring back the terrible stench and memory of Bat. How disgusting—I despise them even more now, if that is possible.
✿✿✿✿✿There’s going to be quite the lovely bruise on my jaw tomorrow. It’s nothing that a generous amount of foundation and concealer won’t cover, so right now I’m more concerned about the swelling that is bound to occur. Ice packs are a godsend. b*****d got in a damn good hit, and that’s the only thing I’ll credit to him.
✿✿✿✿✿Really, thugs like him make me question my adeptness at close-range combat. Oh, I can easily defeat another Lunarian my size, but if I fall from one hit given by someone much larger than me... what’s the use if that point of weakness is so great? Then, wouldn’t I be better off fighting from a greater distance? No, idiot got lucky. I easily beat him last time. There were clearly many forces against me tonight: the dark, the smell, the unfamiliar terrain, the animals... had this been a fair fight with no handicaps, in broad daylight... there would be another victory to my name tonight. Just like last time. I’ll just have to choose my battle times more carefully from now on.
✿✿✿✿✿Ah, but I know I can’t expect fair fights. I don’t even see the logic in fighting fair. After all, isn’t survival the purpose? Wouldn’t anyone stab someone from behind if it meant life or death? So the issue here isn’t the set of circumstances—it’s that enough of those circumstances can sway the fight in my opponent’s favor. That’s clearly unacceptable. I’m going to have to start training at night. Going to have to train in stinky, uncomfortable places, in places other than my jungle training field, and get used to outside filth enough to be able to ignore it in a battle... what needs to happen is for me to get out of this comfort zone, or at least expand it.
✿✿✿✿✿Because next time, next time no amount of unfavorable circumstances are going to affect my fighting. There will be victory. I will work toward invincibility.✿ Âu Tuyết Vân✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
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Posted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 2:08 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿PRP - JUST A REFLEX✿✿✿✿✿paragraph ✿ Âu Tuyết Vân✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
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Posted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 2:11 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿SOLO BATTLE - BROKEN BEAUTY, BROKEN ARMORThe end of another day at the Academy was nearing. Van looked up from her textbooks and papers as soon as the sun began to kiss the horizon—the onset of dusk was imminent. As usual, this was her cue to head for home. Recently, the young Legionnaire had begun to put in long hours at the library in order to graduate at least on time with her peers; her grades had not been up to par as of late, and she could think of a few names of Lunarians who’d graduated the Academy before she was able to. They had surpassed her. Instead of raging about it, as she was apt to do, Van now took the more productive path and had begun to study by herself long after classes had been let out.
This wasn’t to say that Van was turning into a scholar, mind—she was just beginning to set her priorities straight, like any other adolescent was bound to do at this age. Granted, what was fueling this was Van’s overdeveloped sense of competition. And in any case, every hard worker deserved a break.
Van neatly closed and folded her notebooks and stowed them away in her silver-blue messenger bag. Even the hard-working student had room to be fashionable and beautiful, and blue was certainly a very in color this season. The Lunarian found herself increasingly implementing the deep color into her wardrobe. Fanning her sparkly royal blue nails appreciatively, she admired herself before grabbing her bag and heading for the door.
It was as she rounded the corner toward the exit that she noticed the three Noble girls walking in her direction. They looked familiar, probably classmates using the open libraries to their advantage just as Van had been. Another look told her that the one in the middle, the one with the short forest-green hair, was now a fighter. She carried a longsword, donned armor—and Van sighed inwardly to herself as she recognized the face of her old classmate. The name escaped her, but she’d been surpassed by yet another. Vowing to herself to bridge this gap as soon as possible, Van moved to step around the group, accidentally brushing one of the girls in the process. She was supposed to go home and train with her brother now—
but felt her light frame being pushed back a few steps.
“Watch where you’re going, Van.”
Surprised and somewhat irritated now, the Legionnaire directed her amethyst gaze up, straight into the sneer of the girl she’d bumped into. She didn’t recognize this girl, although she was probably a classmate, judging from the fact that she knew Van’s name. Van sniffed, lifted her head, and kept walking. “Your face is really unbecoming, y’know, contorted into that ghastly shape you try to call a—”
The next thing Van knew, she was seeing white, and was sprawled out on the hard wooden floors. The pain came later, an acute sting on the side of her head. As her vision returned to her in stars and neon colors, the Legionnaire realized that she had been knocked upside the head by the girl she’d first brushed, then insulted. Van was not sorry—she was only telling the truth after all! Still, the Noble’s reaction had been uncalled for. This was once a laughable opinion coming from the previously-volatile Van, but no longer. This was how she’d planned on showing herself better than those uncouth Nobles.
Still, with the increasing headache, Van began to bristle as she began to feel a familiar rush of adrenaline-induced anger, the anger she had been fighting so hard to hold back. She got ready to jump to her feet, one clenched fist revealing her intentions. Trying to ignore the throbbing in her temple, Van decided not to preface her attack with words... because now it would be her fists that would do the talking. Instead, she rolled off the ground into a fleeting crouch, before swinging her leg around to trip the offending Noble. A small smirk made its way onto her face as she saw the other girl felled and writhing on the ground.
“How does it feel now, Noble, to be bested at your own game?” she demanded haughtily, raising a fist to deliver her second retaliation. But she didn’t get that far. A kick to Van’s ribs sent her flying sideways, and the Legionnaire came to rest against the opposite wall of the hallway. Wheezing a bit, Van rolled over to look at her attacker. It was the other student. This one was smaller, with a white shock of hair framing her angry pixie face, and she was quickly coming toward Van. The first student, too, was now getting up and eyeing Van with a venomous glare—she too would seek retaliation shortly enough.
None paid much attention to the fighter in the background, who stood a short distance away, arms crossed as she laughed merrily at the brawl that was about to break out in front of her. Van scrambled to her feet and assumed her trademark leopard stance as the two closed in on her. The pain was exceedingly difficult to ignore now, and it existed in many places at once—each breath triggered a sharp pain in her right side. It would be best for Van to back out of this one, but Van, give up? She’d sooner switch allegiances.
It was the Legionnaire who made the first hit, but unfortunately it would be one of the only ones that connected. Van continued into the first dancing punches of her leopard fist, but was cut short by a kick to her resultantly vulnerable, left side. Collapsing to the ground once more, Van conceded in her mind. She fought dirty, but these girls were even worse, teaming up on her to not even fight a proper fight. This wasn’t what they wanted.
What they wanted was a street brawl—no blocking, no ducking, just throwing punches. Whoever was still standing at the end was the victor. Van attempted to smirk as she got up, more slowly this time. If this was what they wanted, then she’d give it to them.
“Wipe that smirk off your face, Legionnaire.”
And so it began; the Nobles fell upon the single Legionnaire, fists flying.
Between punches and kicks and hair-pulling, Van had the sense to think back to her Battle Ethics class. She’d been right all along. No one was going to play fair in the war. And it was then that she began to aim her punches at the other girls’ vital, vulnerable parts. In the mess, she was sure she even bit someone. No rules governed this fight; it was fair game to hit someone from behind, to hit them while they were still down. Courtesy and chivalry were antiquated doctrines reserved only for the classroom.
The brawl was a blur under the mocking eye of the Noble fighter. She couldn’t see distinctly all that was going on in front of her, but she knew that even her rival Van couldn’t stand while outnumbered. In truth it was a one-sided rivalry—Van had never so much as turned an eye toward her, because she wasn’t considered pretty enough to run around with that particular clique. Since the Noble realized this, she threw herself into her training, in order that she’d one day humiliate the purple Legionnaire. And that day had come.
In the end, Van found herself battered, kneeling, and crying quietly, the pixie-faced Noble grasping her ponytail from the root in an assertion of control. Van had lost. Struggling to crane her neck to the side, she was mildly pleased to see the other Noble student unconscious on the ground. At least there had been a small victory. Her celebration was short-lived, as she felt a hard yank on her ponytail and a shrill voice murmured in her ear.
“Such lovely hair, Van... so silky, and split-end free... shall I cut it off for you?”
Van yelped reflexively at the implication, but both students were stopped when the fighter stepped in front of them.
“Enough.”
The pressure on Van’s ponytail subsided slightly. The beaten Legionnaire watched the fighter circle them—or she tried to, for she could no longer move her neck. It was apparent now that this Noble was the mind behind the battle. But even beaten, Van still regarded her Noble foe with all the contempt a scorned Van Lang Lunarian could.
“Oh Van,” was the comment as the fighter bent neatly at the waist and grasped Van’s swelling face in her calloused hand, “Still as lovely as they come. Oh, and look at those nails!” A foot landed on Van’s exposed hand, and the Legionnaire cried out in pain.
The fighter leaned in again, her plain, vindictive face dangerously close to Van’s. “Do you know why I graduated before you?” She waited for a reply, but she knew she wouldn’t get one. So she grabbed hold of Van’s dress, yanking on it until it ripped at the seams.
“You stupid b***h,” she said coolly, her earlier actions the only thing belying her intentions. Van winced in anticipation of another blow, but felt instead felt the unforgiving hold on her dress released. She opened her eyes.
Rising, the fighter stepped aside and began to walk away. The surprised Noble student let go of Van's hair and collected her fallen friend, hurrying to catch up to her mentor.
As they left her to lie broken in the deserted Academy hallway, the fighter issued her parting words.
“Beauty makes poor armor, Van.”
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Posted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 2:13 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿PRP - VAN'S MAKE-UP MAGIC✿✿✿✿✿I haven’t been updating my journal very much these days, and for that I am remorseful. Things have gotten busy since I fell behind at the Academy and had to take the time to catch up. In short, I got distracted, and I’m sure you can tell by whom, if my last entry was any indication. Needless to say, that is no more, and I think that I have mostly gotten myself back on track to graduate this fall.
✿✿✿✿✿Weird things happen in the jungle, dear journal. A few nights ago, I was unable to sleep for the guilt of my carelessness toward a family of monkeys. So, as you would expect, I went outside and meditated. Now, I’m still mystified at what happened later that night, but all of a sudden a girl around my age stumbles into the clearing that I’m sitting in. We don’t have any neighbors for miles, and, keeping in mind that this happened at something like four in the morning, I’m completely surprised that she came here unscathed.
✿✿✿✿✿Sara, her name was. She had been mumbling something about the spirits leading her to my place, so I suppose she is on track to be a soul conduit. I can’t exactly fathom why they would choose me of all people, but being that she was a Legionnaire, I couldn’t very well leave her out in the wilderness. She spent the remainder of the night in my room, and in the morning, we returned to the Academy together.
✿✿✿✿✿That was a few nights ago. Now, just today, as I’m walking the halls of the school, I get pulled into the bathroom by someone—I thought it was one of the girls who had harassed me the other day (that’s a story for when I’m ready to talk about it, okay?), but it was only Sara. This time, she seemed a lot more disturbed than the last time I saw her, and for good reason, since apparently some jerkface Noble decided to rip half of her face off!
✿✿✿✿✿It’s not just because I’ve recently been attacked in a similar manner, but because someone could target Sara of all people. I don’t know her very well, but I can tell that she is a very sweet girl. She was panicked about making someone’s wedding without looking like... well, a hag, so of course I had to help her out with her hair and makeup. I did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself, and I am certain that she will attend that wedding looking beautiful.
✿✿✿✿✿It’s funny, dear journal. I feel protective of her, even though I’ve only met her twice. She has a good aura about her, something you don’t often find even among those of your own faction. I’m not well acquainted with soul magic, but perhaps those spirits led her to me because she needed me. If that is the case, I hope that I can deliver. I’ll try my best to protect her, and I will ensure that she never has to turn around to help me instead. ✿ Âu Tuyết Vân✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
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Posted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 2:15 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿PRP - NO TRICKS THIS TIME✿✿✿✿✿I feel like I get into a lot of fights over things, dear journal. I wonder if you would think that that’s a bad habit to have. But in doing such, I’ve managed to hold onto the things that are rightfully mine. What kind of person would I be if I let everyone take my things? I’m no pushover, alright?
✿✿✿✿✿I didn’t mention it earlier because I didn’t think it was very important, but a few days ago, I bought a very pretty heart-shaped pendant from the marketplace. I might as well have stolen it, honestly—with a bit of haggling and flirting, I got the price way down on that thing. On my way home, some boy comes out of nowhere and bumps into me. He was trying to flirt, no different from all the others, but then I realized that he was aiming for my new necklace, and not me! That’s a first, isn’t it?
✿✿✿✿✿And here is where the fight I just mentioned happened. I was trying to be calm and avoid these confrontations, you know, but I think this is just one thing I can’t tolerate. I’m loath to admit this once again, but he bested me. It was that damn gravel we were fighting on—I lost my footing at the very last second and fell to the ground! He was a pretty good fighter, and took the opportunity to immobilize me then. What surprised me was that he let me keep the necklace... if I’d gone through all that trouble to get something, I know I’d make damn sure I got it.
✿✿✿✿✿But I am very glad that I still have the pendant. I’m wearing it right now, actually.
✿✿✿✿✿Today I ran into that boy again after classes let out at the Academy. If I thought I’d been surprised before, he certainly surprised me again with an apology. His name is Kiran. Here I thought that all Nobles were assholes. He must be one of the better ones... er, the less bad ones... you know what I mean. Still, Legionnaires can never be friends with Nobles. In the end, we’ll only end up on opposite sides of a battlefield. I think, though, that Kiran and I could possibly be on speaking terms after this, even if it’s for a just a short while. ✿ Âu Tuyết Vân✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
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Posted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 2:16 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿SOLO BATTLE - SPLIT VICTORYIt was a rainy night in the Northern rainforest of Lunaria, and the darkness was absolute. The moon and stars were shielded by the dark clouds—all sensible creatures stayed in their homes tonight. Few were ever out and about while the forces of nature raged so angrily in the blackness outside. Indeed, the Au family was asleep, quite used to the tumult of the rainy season in Lunaria’s rainforest, which in this case occurred for the majority of the year. Van slept soundly under silken sheets; it had been a long day of training, and she had not moved from her deep slumber for hours.
Several pairs of feet found their way to the porch of the traditional-style pool house in which the Au family lived. The whispers of the masked Lunarians were virtually inaudible against the rain, their steps as they walked into the house, near silent.
Later, Van stirred twice, uneasily, as if dreaming. Violet eyes opened slowly, blinking once, twice. Why had she woken up? Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, the young woman swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretching. Normally she’d have fallen back asleep to the sound of the rain, but there was an anxiousness in the pit of her stomach that stirred her to stay awake. Van, not consciously feeling any of this, stepped off of her bed downstairs for a drink of water.
She padded gently down the wooden floors toward her destination. There were no thoughts forming in her head, for she was still half asleep. One foot stepped into the kitchen, and suddenly, the sleep was shocked right out of her. Her house was not empty—there were five hooded Lunarians moving about just inside the room. Van darted back into the hallway as quickly as she could. Who were these people? Had they seen her? The purple Lunarian strained to hear what they were saying, but their voices were indistinct under the cover of nature’s sounds.
Van watched from her post a little longer, trying to extract as much information as she could before she decided what to do. What were they here for? Two seemed smaller than the rest—were they perhaps younger? Women? In any case, there was no way she could take all five at once, and especially not without waking the rest of the family. She’d have to alert them somehow.
But the longer she thought about it, the more she was inclined to just jump in and attack. She had the element of surprise, and if she took two or three out on the first hit, she’d be able to take the others. A smirk spread across her face. Ah, the hubris that blinded Van, causing her to grossly overestimate her capabilities. This time she was not to act on it, however, for the next thing she knew, she was flying through the wet, humid air. And she landed with a grand splash in the pool.
Flailing her arms a bit, Van found her way to the surface, sputtering both in surprise and outrage. How had they managed to fling her so far—she hadn’t even seen or heard it coming! Then, there was a characteristic thundering coming down the stairs from the other side of the house, followed by two rapid pairs of footsteps. It would appear that stealth was not their strong point tonight—Van’s family was awake.
“VAN! What is the meaning of this?!” was her father’s booming roar.
The girl jumped quickly out of the pool, scrambling to join her family as they faced the five mysterious Lunarians who had now fanned out opposite them.
“Daddy I don’t know—they came in the middle of—” The tenryujin did not let her finish, instead moving to action as the five figures shifted and flew toward them with deadly intent. The girl rolled for cover, and when she looked up she watched in mild awe as her father pulled up the floorboards to fend off two of the masked attackers. Her mother and brother, too, were also holding their own against all five. And why shouldn’t they? They were berserk ******** housewife and Captain. The fights moved all across the house, and though Van followed with her eyes, she couldn’t pick one to join. She’d just be a nuisance.
“Van! Get the priest!” her brother shouted at her when he noticed her on the sidelines. Van, surprised at the mention of her name, quickly counted the cloaked Lunarians. One, two, there were five present and occupied, but still, water balls flew into the skirmishes, seemingly from nothing. That meant...
Van bolted from her spot, running through the house, senses keen for the presence of the hidden Lunarian. Of course there’d be a priest on board—no mission squad was complete without one. It was always of benefit to have someone behind the scenes, maneuvering events in favor of his allies. The Legionnaire pulled her butterfly swords from the weapons rack as she passed it, looking and listening for the priest. No luck downstairs. Van reached the upper level of her house and made a quick scan of her surroundings. All of the doors were ajar except... the door to her room.
That was where he had to be. Van fell into a crouch as she crept toward the door. She was the image of stealth—invisible, inaudible—that is, until she threw open the door and jumped into whatever was waiting for her inside. She stopped when she saw the Lunarian, strangely sitting still at her window amidst the great commotion around them. He turned, and Van was surprised by his face. He was young—her age, if not younger. Beautiful long silver hair framed the delicate face, but what was unsettling were the eyes... the cold, steel blue eyes, that, though set in a youthful face, seemed aged far beyond his years.
The girl felt herself shoved from behind, but when she looked, there was nothing there. Another push, another jab—and they came seemingly from nothing. Van looked around—the room was empty save for the silver-haired boy. Something tripped her, and she fell. Scrambling to her feet, Van settled into a fighting stance. She was beginning to feel thoroughly frightened. How could he hit her without so much as moving an inch? Were these, perhaps, souls? Van shivered at the thought.
The two young Lunarians watched each other, neither making a move for a few long moments. Van racked her brain for strategies. She knew that priests were physically incompetent, but how was she to get close to him while he was watching her, and had soul magic at his disposal? One idea lingered in her head, and Van knew this was all she had. She flung one sword.
It flew true, not into the heart of the priest, for he would have blocked it, but above his head, splitting the small wooden block that held a shelf of all of Van’s makeup up. All of the brushes, lipsticks, and various cosmetics tumbled down on the priest (she’d regret this later), but by the time he recovered, Van had closed the distance between them, and now threw the first swift hit. Before he could recover, she pushed him under her and began to barrage him with punches to the head.
She had this—but all of a sudden her left side went limp and she fell backwards. Looking for the source of the numbness, Van realized that he had tapped a pressure point on her body. His face was severely swollen and bleeding, but she could still see those cold eyes as he came closer to her unmoving body. His hands closed around her throat, and Van knew she was in trouble. Her left side was still numb, but at least she had her right arm and leg to work with. When struggling with only half of her body proved to be of no avail, Van stopped and reached around her, groping for something, anything that would loosen his grip on her throat. She was beginning to lose her vision when her fingers touched something metal—her sword. It had fallen among her makeup when she flung it earlier.
With renewed will she took hold of it and plunged the short sword deep into the priest’s side. As his hands fell from her throat, Van sat upright, gasping for air, life. Looking down at the bleeding Lunarian, she felt a surge of euphoria. She had won—she’d beaten a priest! Van was surprised to find that he was still breathing, though in short gurgles now, and so took the rope from her curtains to bind his hands. If he was still alive later, they could question him.
A wide smirk spread across Van’s face as she dragged him outside and all the way back to the pool area, where her mother and father sat back on the ground with two shadowed bodies next to them. The Legionnaire threw her charge to the ground in front of them.
“I got him!” she boasted proudly, placing both hands on her hips. All of these years she had fought for her father’s approval, for his acknowledgement that she was a capable warrior. “See, Daddy? And here you thought I couldn’t—”
“You have NOTHING to boast about!” Vinh Hung thundered, startling his daughter into silence. “They’ve taken your brother!”
“Wh... what do you mean they...” and Van realized now that there were three hooded bodies missing, and her beloved brother Thanh Long was nowhere to be seen. They had kidnapped him.
Her legs fell out from beneath her as she began to feel the effects of the realization, all euphoria drained from her body to be replaced with utter shock. Wide-eyed, she didn’t even realize when the tears began to roll down her face.
How could such a victory feel like such a loss?
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Posted: Tue Aug 16, 2011 1:32 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿THE AFTERMATHIt had only been one day.
A significantly plainer Van sat at her desk, staring at an empty page in her purple journal. No makeup, and her long wavy hair fell limply down the back of her white cotton robe. The young woman had just gotten out of the shower—the fifth one she had taken for the day. She couldn’t shake the feeling of the priest’s blood on her hands, couldn’t stop seeing it on the floor, even though she had mopped so many times she’d lost count. He had died in their living room. That morning, her mother and father had immediately hired hands to come clean up the mess that had resulted from the battle the other night. Indeed, Van’s room was as immaculate as it was before.
But no matter how much one cleaned, it could never erase the reality of those dead, and all the company of the maids and construction workers would never replace the presence of her brother Thanh Long.
Van hadn’t slept since the incident, not that she tried. All night and all day, she’d replayed the night in her head, analyzing every movement, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. She had dared not ask her father what happened, dared not blame him for losing Long. She was afraid that he’d blame her for her incompetence, something that she was fighting so hard to ignore. She’d gotten rid of the priest, hadn’t she? Somehow, though, the only conclusion she could come to was that it was her fault. What had she done wrong?
It was hard to say. She in her limited knowledge from the Battle Strategies class at the Academy could not begin to tell. There was only one thing she knew for sure—she hadn’t been strong enough. She wasn’t good enough; whatever she had done that night just had not been sufficient. And it was because of her that she no longer had a brother to train with right now. No wonder her father refused to call her a warrior, even though her graduation was imminent. She understood this now.
The tears had long since dried. Van still mourned her brother, but by now, she was beginning to find comfort in the hope that he was still alive. She’d overheard her parents talking earlier—they wouldn’t include her in their conversation, of course—the Nobles weren’t going to kill him. At least, not right away, not when they could interrogate him, or even try to convert him. The lady Legionnaire knew her brother wasn’t capable of bending under that kind of pressure, just like her. Her only worry was that they would exterminate him.
The Nobles hadn’t made any attempts on any of their lives that night, she’d heard, their main objective was Captain Thanh Long. The priest, though dead now, had done his work and half of the ambush squad had made off with their precious son. They would have attempted to kidnap Thu Nguyet as well, had they not been stopped by Vinh Hung. No mention of Van. She was not valuable enough.
It was now that Van vowed to change that. She was already on the brink of becoming a fighter, but she could not rest there, not until she became a captain—no, a tenryujin, not until she could win her brother back from those scum, the Nobles. And if he had already gone, she would avenge him with all the fury of the Legionnaires. All of Lunaria would know the power of Au Tuyet Van—she would no longer be the nameless daughter that no one thought was good enough.
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Posted: Sun Aug 28, 2011 5:31 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿COMMENCEMENTVan could barely focus on the words of the speaker at the commencement ceremony.
This was her second commencement of the day, actually. The first one had occurred early in the afternoon at the Academy, where she and a handful of her peers suffered through a series of speeches made by the various officials at the school. When she collected her certificate, it was all she could do to not leave the ceremony right then and there. The school had taught her nothing about protecting herself and her family—she no longer wanted anything to do with it, and the piece of paper in her hands was nothing more than trash. Instead of acting on all of this, though, she merely settled into the small crowd of graduates. Sara and Kiran, she had noticed, were among them.
But here she was, kneeling with one knee on the ground before a panel of the captains and tenryujin in her family, trying to listen to the dull droning of one of her uncles. She was not the only one having a hard time paying attention; a surreptitious glance left and right told her that her two cousins were also struggling to keep their composure with bowed heads.
One seat on the panel was vacant. That Van’s amethyst eyes kept wandering over to it was a clear sign of what was on her mind. It was not the fact that she was about to be officially instated as a fighter, but that her brother, Thanh Long, was missing. She accidentally caught her father’s eye now, and they narrowed in disapproval. The woman quickly bowed her head again, her dark hair falling over her face as she attempted to hide a scowl. She couldn’t be sure whether it was because of the recent events, or whether it was because he still thought she wasn’t good enough... but his displeasure was clear. Was it really so much to ask, for him to be happy for her even for a moment?
The pace of the small ceremony shifted suddenly, and Van’s attention was sharply piqued as the three of them were summoned to stand. So they did. Van watched idly as her cousin stepped forward when directed, and recited the oath to the family. He then approached the stand to be presented with a gorgeous katana by his captain father. Her other cousin followed suit with the same protocol, and soon it was Van’s turn.
She stepped forward, her posture straight and head held high. Her voice rang out clearly in the small meeting room. “I, Au Tuyet Van, do solemnly swear that I will serve and protect the Emperor and his Legion, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, and that I will represent the Au lineage with honor, discipline, and integrity, until termination or death.”
”Whichever finds me first,” she thought grimly, as she lowered her head once more and moved to find her father, who would present her with her first weapons.
Vinh Hung held a large wooden case in his scaly hands, which, when his daughter had positioned herself in front of him, was opened to reveal a gleaming pair of butterfly swords. Van’s eyes widened in the slightest, and she reached into the box to lift both blades. They were simple, but beautiful, forged from black steel and edged in gold. Feeling the heft experimentally, she could tell that the craftsmanship was second to none.
Van raised her eyes to the tenryujin standing in front of her, and was met with confrontation. Vinh Hung’s face was calm, but a fire raged behind his dark blue eyes. “Prove that you are worthy,” he said softly, so that no one could hear but her. His tone was not kind, but challenging, almost derisive—the new fighter could feel the weight of the words slap her in the face.
And she would not back down.
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Kurama no Koishi generated a random number between
1 and 3 ...
2!
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Posted: Sun Aug 28, 2011 5:36 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿SOLO BATTLE - DÉJÀ VUThe hour was getting progressively later, and Van’s mood was souring by the minute. Her partner—she dug through her memory for the name—Liang, was nearly an hour late to their meeting place, and it was damn cold outside. Van’s first mission as a fighter for the Legion was a simple one in concept; they were supposed to break into a Noble captain’s personal armory while he was away and steal back a sword that had originally belonged to the Emperor. At least, this was what the captain briefing them had told them, and who were they to question that?
Finally, she heard footsteps approaching her, and under the soft glow of the moon, the woman took the time to identify the Lunarian as her blue-haired mission partner before stepping forward to reveal herself.
“Van, right? Sorry I’m l—”
“Save it,” she interrupted him crossly, before turning and heading in the direction of the Noble’s estate. It was not that they were terribly late, since they still had the majority of the night ahead of them, but more that he had left her waiting for the better part of an hour. Liang, also a fighter, had several years of experience on her, and the captain had assigned him the leader position for this mission. Yet, he couldn’t even make the effort to come on time, and so the woman begrudged him this.
Thankfully, it seemed that he knew the way there just as well as she did. The two of them walked on in silence for a while, before he spoke.
“This is your first mission, eh? Are you ready?”
She said nothing, only pausing to give him a withering look before walking on at a faster pace. He took off after her, unfazed by her cold brush-off. Eventually he posed another question, one that was entirely unnecessary in her mind.
“You have everything memorized, right?”
Van only grunted confirmation, not bothering to hide her irritation with the man. If he was challenging her ability to carry out an operation effectively, she didn’t need words to prove him wrong; she only needed time and for him to shut up so that she had room in her mind to think. Liang continued to pester her with questions that were progressively less relevant to the mission at hand and more personal, many of which she answered with a simple grunt, and some she ignored entirely. No type of negative reaction on her part got him to stop, however, for he always came back with an equally undermining question. His persistence reminded her of that of a puppy—she could keep kicking him, but in the end he’d always come around.
Thankfully, Liang quieted down as they got closer to the Noble manor, and he had stopped talking entirely by the time they reached the ornate wooden door. He brushed her petite frame aside roughly as he skillfully picked the lock, and within seconds they were in.
The purple Lunarian had memorized the floor plan (how the others had gotten hold of such a map was beyond her), so she knew exactly how to get to where the sword was allegedly housed. Looking around at the décor as they passed through the empty hallways, Van was astounded at the ostentatious display of wealth and luxury. So this was what it was like to be filthy rich. Her own family didn’t have it half bad, as she hailed from a successful military clan, but she certainly didn’t have diamonds on her door handles.
Turning a corner, she continued on her way towards their destination. Liang seemed to have a different plan in mind, however, and the woman felt him yank her in his direction by the back of her shirt.
“What the hell are you doing?!” she whirled on him, hissing between gritted teeth.
“This way’s faster,” Liang whispered back, holding up his own copy of the manor’s floor plan and pointing to a highlighted route.
“No, it isn’t! Give me that!” Van demanded in a yelled whisper, her temper getting the better of her as she made a grab at the map. Liang held it just out of her reach. In the scuffle that followed, the femme managed to shove her partner aside with the map in hand, realizing too late that there was a large suit of armor behind him. Both Legionnaires froze with looks of panic on their faces as it crashed to the ground, and a cacophony of metal clanging against stone floors echoed through the hallways. Liang jumped to his feet and broke into a run down the hall, taking the route he had originally suggested.
Van, swearing under her breath, did not follow him, instead taking the route she was originally heading down. Though the Noble captain was out, it quickly became apparent that the Legionnaires were not the only ones in the house. Another set of footsteps joined theirs, and Van knew that if they didn’t get out of the place fast, they’d have a nasty confrontation to deal with.
Suddenly, someone jumped out in front of her, blocking her path. Skidding to a halt, the dark-haired fighter managed to stop just short of the reach of a pair of metal claws that were barely glinting in the dim light. In a split-second decision, Van turned on her heel and ran back the way she had come, hoping to elude the Noble. It was no use, for he clearly knew his own house better than she did, and before long he had caught up to her.
This she knew, because three extremely sharp knives clawed her small backpack to pieces, piercing her clothes and tearing through the skin of her back. She screamed.
“Van?” her assailant asked then, his voice the sound of incredulity.
Her only response was a quiet gasp, though whether it was from the pain or because he seemed to recognize her, she wasn’t sure. But she took advantage of the still moment and lunged at him, drawing her butterfly swords in a slashing motion. The fighter was pleased to feel the steel blades cutting neatly into something soft, and at the end of the stroke, she drew her hands back around to punch the boy in the chest with the handle of her sword. Blood splattered over her hands, and the wet, struggling gasps of his choking sounded in front of her.
It did not bother Van that he apparently knew her—she didn’t know him, and she couldn’t think of any Noble she’d befriended in recent days who would know her name. The Legionnaire claimed total impassivity to these things, but it wasn’t entirely true. She was, after all, using the blunt ends of her weapon to overpower him, where she could have stabbed him once and gotten it over with.
The sudden change in momentum had made all the difference. The Noble boy struggled against her with his claws in the same way an Academy student might have struggled with a too-heavy, ill-fitting weapon. Van, by contrast, was deadly with her knives, her mastery over them unmatched as she shoved him to the ground and continued her relentless onslaught. She climbed on top of him, beating him on the head over and over, a manic rage threatening to consume her and escalate their fight into truly mindless, brutal violence.
He coughed weakly, rolling his head to one side. His face was illuminated by the moonlight drifting through the window. When Van saw this, she suddenly felt all of the anger, all of the energy leave her body like a deflating balloon. She was no longer in some foreign manor, but back in her house, staring at the child priest she’d single-handedly beaten down in her room. His silver hair was matted, stained crimson with his own blood and, Van saw as she raised her hands to her face, that she had his blood on her hands.
The memories from that night continued flashing across her eyes, repeating themselves, faster and faster until it was all a blur. Van jumped to her feet now, stumbling back as she tried to reorient herself, blindly feeling behind her for a wall on which to steady herself and her spinning head. The motion finally stopped—too quickly—ending in one image, that of her brother’s determined face as he fought off those hooded Nobles. This was her last memory of him...
The Noble boy was getting to his feet now, claws in hand. He had no idea why his former classmate had suddenly backed off, but he wasn’t about to let her go during this apparent moment of vulnerability. He stepped toward her, arms raised to deal the final blow, before another figure slammed into him from the side and knocked him out cold.
“Van! Are you alright?!”
All she could do was stare dumbly at the fallen boy in front of her, who looked so much like that priest she’d fought off... Van hardly noticed that Liang had jumped in at the last moment to save her. Instead, she became acutely aware of the wetness on her body, of the blood that was streaming from her wounds in rivulets. How did she get those? Oh... yeah, she’d blatantly ignored his claws as they’d struggled on the ground earlier. In her madness, she hadn’t even felt the blades gouging her skin...
The last thing Van was conscious of was Liang’s annoying voice echoing through her head, calling out her name repeatedly as he tried to keep her from going under.
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Posted: Tue Dec 20, 2011 1:28 am
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿PRP - STUBBORN MINDS!✿✿✿✿✿paragraph ✿ Âu Tuyết Vân✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
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