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The Demons of One's Strength; Open
Topic Started: Aug 16 2016, 01:34 AM (1,738 Views)
Nomad
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It was well after the school day was over that Zamari decided to take to the dojo. He often did not practice there, instead preferring the seclusion of the forests outside of town to preserve his concentration. However, unspecified circumstances had made going to his usual spot that day an inconvenience so he instead opted to use the school's facility to practice.

Zamari seldom compared himself to other boys his age. While most students were occupied with clubs, sports, or going home after school, Zamari was instead focused almost entirely on his objective which was to get stronger. He withheld a power that was not solely his own and he had to protect it if he wished to remain alive. Therefore, he could not afford to waste time for there was no telling when the next enemy would show up to test him. People were after Zamari and the mythical headband he carried and the very reason he left his home in New York and moved all the way to Japan was to prevent his family from being caught in the crossfire of his personal beefs.

So here he was training yet again by his lonely. He had yet to start working on his swordsmanship for his current session as doing so would require him to transform. Zamari wasn't too thrilled to do so on school property for he wasn't totally trusting of the faculty and staff. Who was to say there wasn't a future foe lurking within the masses? To circumvent any spies observing his strength, he elected to practice his melee combat for the time being.

Whack!

Zamari nearly knocked the training off of its support beams with a powerful punch towards its center. He quickly followed up with another which almost did the trick, a hole now torn as a result.

"You have all that power and are letting it go to waste."

The eerie voice within Zamari's head which was no this own froze him solid.

"Oh, don't let us distract you. We were merely making an observation."

Clearly agitated by the voice's taunting, Zamari balled up his fist and slugged the air behind him.

"What do you want from me!" He roared to seemingly no one.

There was no response. At least not immediately. A few moments past before a low chuckle crept through his head.

Hehehehehehehe.....

And it gradually grew louder until he was unable to bear it any longer.

"Get out of my head!"

Thump! Thrash! Thump!

Zamari began to unload a flurry of jabs onto the training dummy in front of him, effectively shredding it. When he was finished he dropped to one knee from exhaustion.

"Are you finally satisfied?" He asked.

Again, no response.
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Earlier that week...

Ezan had been trying to force the growth of his power, forcing the wind to grow stronger within his grasp, but failing. Every single day he kept practicing, until... An accident. His right arm had been covered with deep gashes, blood spurting out in a crimson mist. That day he would have died, if Nova had not come soon enough to his aid, which was his luck: She had come to practice and meditate and ended up healing him. For the days that followed, a fever took over him...


But now...

At last, the fever subsided. He had no clue on why it had come and gone, but he felt refreshed. For a good moment, he was oblivious to Zamari's presence, focusing only on his seeing if there was a hope of growing his ability.

The air soon remained still around Ezan. The contrast between the air within his control and that which lay out of his reach was visible: there was a "dome" of dust particles around him. Soon the difference faded, as a blade of compressed air appeared in front of his hand. It was not big, about a meter and a half at most. But as he tried to grab it, he soon drew his hand back.

A tingling sensation overwhelmed him. a razor-thin cut was on his hand, but not enough to cause a significant bleeding. Dispelling the wind blade, he began to lick his wound, and then take into his surroundings, finally perceiving Zamari's merciless assault on the dummy at its end.

Approaching Zamari while still licking wounded hand, the lizard man queried "Hey, something the matter?". At this moment, Ezan lacked intimidation factor, perhaps only his height and additional features standing odd.
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Zamari huffed and puffed as he recovered. Once his stamina refilled, he stood up and looked to see that he no longer had the dojo to himself. His emotions were mixed with embarrassment gaining a strong hold over his frustration and despair. Just how much of his outburst did Ezan hear? He imagined that he must have seemed deranged to be yelling to what appeared to be no one. Zamari resolved that the next best thing to do would be to regain his composure before thinking of a reasonable explanation for his actions.

After a brief deliberation Zamari answered Ezan's question, "Thanks for your concern. I'm alright. It's just been a rough week."

That was an understatement. Zamari's week had been more than rough, torturous was more accurate. The last night where he slept good was all but a distant memory. His dreams had become haunting nightmares and the voices were whispering when they were not supposed to. Zamari could deal with their taunting when he was transformed but recently they were speaking to him when he was in his base state. Zamari now had to deal with them 24/7 and he did not know why.

Lying was not one of Zamari's best skills - that would be evident by the telling expression of discontent his face bore. He did not want to admit his weakness especially to someone that he was not close with. To Zamari it was unwise to expose any weakness for it could potentially be the end of him. To conceal his vulnerability, he figured a change of subject was needed.

"So...do you train here often?" He asked Ezan.

"The more you run the weaker you become."

A chill crept up Zamari's spine and he winced. He prayed that Ezan did not notice.
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Ezan had only caught the end of it, so he could only believe it was as Zamari said: A rough week. Didn't the alien lizardman have one himself? Sure he had: getting seriously wounded and running high fever wasn't fun. All because of his own mistake of pushing himself too far... But don't they all do at some point in their lives?

Normally Ezan would have responded to that question, but this was intriguing... Ezan had his eyes trained on Zamari all the time. But thankfully now he stopped cleaning his wound. That however increased his intimidation factor a little. His tail swished a little as he noticed Zamari wince.

"No, I don't train here all often. Most of the time I prefer to train with someone else. Every now and then I have this tendency of bringing harm to myself, heheh...", phew, his seriousness faded, what a relief. "Speaking of rough week, mine has been no bed of roses either."

When he pulled up his sleeves, Zamari would see his arm has been bandaged, from shoulder to wrist. "Nova healed it all, but felt it was safer to bandage it, in case my powers acted up during the fever.", even with that explanation... One was to wonder how bad his powers must have been on him.
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As Zamari looked at the bandages on Ezan's arm, he couldn't help but feel relieved that he wasn't the only one going through trouble. He didn't want to pry too much for that wasn't his nature, but he was sure that Ezan certainly had more reason to complain at the moment than he did. But, Zamari had to take into account that wounds to the body where quite different from those to the mind. Ezan's body would eventually recover on its own - at least hopefully. Zamari's peace at mind, however, was up in the air. What was worse was that he couldn't tell anyone about the voices that were haunting him. First, he was sure they would not believe him. Second, his pride held him back from doing so.

"My powers have been giving me some issues lately as well," Zamari said, intending to relate to Ezan. "It's more of a psychological thing...I guess."

For the last week he heard the voices. They lauded him when he was trying to train, berated him as he studied, and even threatened him as he ate. It had never been this bad. At first the voices were merely annoying but now they were infuriating.

"Fight him. You know you want to."

Not to mention they also sought to manipulate him. That was where Zamari drew the line. Although he was weak at the moment, he would not allow anyone to control him. He gritted his teeth as he processed the voices' latest words. He wanted to lash back at them but he knew that he would only be giving them what they desired. So what could he do about them? They weren't going away regardless.

"Prove to us that you are worthy."

"No," Zamari refused.

"But you must."

"No!" Zamari boomed. "I won't!"

Hehehehehe....

Satisfied that they were effectively driving Zamari mad, the voices cackled, the sound of their muffled laughs echoing through his head.

"Stop it!"

Without realizing it, Zamari did what he should have never done - give in. Hoping to fend off the voices he threw another punch. Blinded by rage he failed to take into account that there was now another within his reach.
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"So we are in the same boat... Well, almost. As you describe, yours is a psychological thing. Hm, I think I know who could be of help...", Ezan pondered for a moment, and silently observed Zamari's outbursts as they followed their words.

The punch was a surprise, but Ezan had not averted the eyes. Unfortunately, for Zamari, the next moment wasn't the most pleasant... The lizardman grabbed his wrist, spun behind him and held his arm against his back, Ezan's other arm close to his neck.

"Gotcha!", it was CQC, there's no doubt of it. Letting go of Zamari, he hopped back, floating off the floor by one foot. "I get the idea, yes... And I KNOW who could help you!", Ezan remembered that his "sister" had problems with an inner beast of her own... And, more importantly, someone in this very school had an inner demon who could manifest at will.
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Zamari stood up and brushed the dust off of his clothes. Now back to his senses, he blushed after registering what just happened. Thankfully, Ezan was cool about the whole mishap.

"My apologies," Zamari said. "Its been hard to control myself as of late."

He wanted to add that it would not happen again but he could not promise that. Especially since it was now completely evident that something was up with him. Zamari knew that he would unable to keep his troubles secret from Ezan any longer.

"I guess I could use some help with this matter...." Zamari muttered, trailing off. Again, his pride restrained him. He knew that he needed help dealing with his problem but was unable to full on admit it. And that was makings things worse for he had yet to make any progress.

"This individual you speak of. Do you think they could perhaps deal with spirits?"

The metaphysical was highly important to his predicament.
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"If I believe so, admitting you have a problem and that you do need help is really important.", he too had problems to call his own. Ezan was far from a perfect being, he was fated from birth to bear a flaw, which required an equal shock to fix itself, then he lost his loved one, then he lost a friend that had been with him in a long journey...

For a brief moment, he didn't have his eyes fixated on Zamari, which would have been a mistake if hostility was in the air. But the next moment was of him requiring someone who could deal with spirits. "Spirits, you say? Hm, that's not quite her business, but she has a literal inner demon. You might have seen her come and go, a firebird with strange features."

"As for how I can provide aid by myself, I can teach you how to breath properly. Doesn't seem much, but helps relax and I've seen Sis Yume do it a lot whenever she used to contact her inner beast."
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A literal demon inside of her? Well, Zamari guessed he had something similar going on. Sanzenmen, the sword that he wielded whenever he underwent his samurai transformation, manifested a plethora of spirits that represented its many alternate egos. As evidenced by Zamari's earlier suffering, these spirits did not take too kindly to him. Zamari was told that there was no way to get rid of the spirits other than to suppress them himself. However, he still felt that an exorcism was worth a shot.

"A firebird with strange feathers? Can't say I have," Zamari said in reference to the indvidual that Ezan spoke of. Great, another spectacle. Kaneshima was brimming with them to the point that Zamari was no longer surprised as to what he might encounter next. He assumed that Cthulhu had stopped by at least once before."Well, some advice can go long away. And I could definitely use a moment to breath."

While it didn't sound like much at first, simply taking a step back and collecting himself could surprisingly help Zamari more than he initially thought. He had become so obsessed with his powers that he was no loner eating and sleeping properly. Hoping to diminish any tension within the air Zamari loosened up and made an effort to relax.

"Do you know if this demon has given her any trouble? Does it talk to her from time to time?"

Zamari asked because that was exactly what Sanzenmen's spirits did to him. And it was worse than any physical pain he ever felt.
Edited by Nomad, Aug 17 2016, 12:12 AM.
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Ezan floated closer and stopped before him. "I used to do this trick to help others calm down.", bringing a finger up, close to Zamari's mouth as if in a "silence" gesture, the air around his hand flowed differently, and in less quantity... While this trick was somewhat frightening, it was clear he couldn't use it for harm for one reason: he synced his breathing to this. It was a slow cycle, easy to catch up.

"Her mother, Yume, has had actual problems with her beast side, who was simply wanting to be heard. But Nova herself was reborn already in tune with her demon side. They kinda are BFFs, sometimes she even gets into monologues with her other self, specially when she's all alone.", seems communication and understanding your other self were the key here.
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Zamari was at first put off by Ezan's "trick" as it affected his breathing. That was of course the point but it clearly was not something he was used to. His eye twitched as a first response but he gradually eased up as he felt his tension cease. Alas, he knew that the fix would only be temporary. While he was now more focused than he was before, the hairs still stood on his neck because subconsciously he was awaiting the voices return.

But, strangely, they did not.

"Sounds like they laid off for now," Zamari mumbled. He wanted to feel relieved but his paranoia increased. He knew they were teasing him and therefore could not get comfortable. The voices already disturbed him enough, the last thing he needed was for them to catch him off guard.

So, according to Ezan's words, this Nova never had any real problems with her inner beast. Then how exactly could she be of any aid to Zamari? Maybe she could teach him how to coexist with Sanzenmen's spirits.

"They must know how to coexist with minimal conflict," Zamari assumed.

Unfortunately, any of his attempts at holding a conversation with Sanzenmen's spirits were usually met with rebuttal. Their relationship was the antithesis to this Nova's relationship with her inner demon. Whereas they may have gotten along since the start of their codependency, Zamari and Sanzemen's spirits have hated each other fervently since first contact.

"I was once told that the only way to solve my problem was to prove myself," Zamari informed Ezan. "However, nothing hardly ever impresses them."

Zamari purposely left out the details of his problem as he spoke cryptically. It wasn't like Ezan had too much difficulty following him beforehand, though. The lizardman wasn't at all oblivious to Zamari's suffering which made him feel more relaxed than normal when it came to disclosing information. Zamari just hoped he wouldn't come to regret their interaction later.
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"That is correct, knowing how to coexist is important, regardless of whom it may be, simply knowing you might need them someday or that you have no choice on the matter should already be motivation enough. And this coming from an organic being that literally talks to computers!"

Talking... To computers? What were the implications? He meant literally, so it was highly likely he could communicate to them like an android does. In fact... Not that deep. Still... "Proving, yourself... I wonder what could it mean. When I was asked to prove myself at the end of SSDT course, my tutor didn't go easy on me and, even though I couldn't outdo him... Well, he is master in this art, so it is no surprise. But still he thought I did really well."

"Thing is: if what I understand is true, this is kind of like the Whip Memory of Castlevania Portrait of Ruin. If this guess is true, then fighting them within yourself will be needed to unlock the true potential of... Something. Unlocking true potential is not an easy task, I did it once and now I'm back to doing it again... And still halfway there."

Ezan moved his hand away from Zamari, forming the wind sword to the side, but still unable to hold it with his hand. "Shame on me, I guess: having the ability to control the air around myself, having once mastered this ability, but having to start from scratch because of a poison."
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Ezan was right. Zamari had no choice but to deal with Sanzenmen's spirits one way or another. They were stuck with each other until the day of his death. The headband which gave Zamari his powers was bound to him for life, therefore so where the spirits. If he were to ever find his peace at mind he would have to confront them effectively. Alas, that was easier said than done.

"The spirits are tied to my powers," Zamari began. "I may not look the part but I'm a samurai - well at least I can become one for a few minutes a day." Zamari reached into his pocket and pulled out the white headband, the Rising Sun of Japan imprinted at its center. "I put this on and it happens...but so do the spirits."

Ezan had gained enough of Zamari's trust to where he felt he could tell him at least the basic details of his powers. There was of course more that he did not unveil, but what he did was related to the core of his powers. While Zamari was able to hear the spirit's voices within his head when not transformed - a side effect of the headband being on his person - he could only see them as well as any other spirits when transformed. Zamari held the headband up to his chest and clenched it tight.

Looking down to the dojo's floor he said, "Fighting them within myself? I didn't think that was possible. Zamari had tried fighting the spirits in the physical but since they were bound to his sword they could not be slain with its blade. "I don't know if I can hurt them but I have to show them my strength somehow."

Zamari watched carefully as Ezan moved his hand from in front of his face and formed the wind sword. Based off the lizardman's following statement, Zamari was able to conclude that he was indeed strong. He wanted to verify that as truth.

"You like you can certainly hold your own," Zamari complimented with as meager of a grin as he could manage.
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"So, they are tied to your headband... I'm now afraid of the idea of someone other than you using it!", his tail arced up and wiggled the tip, as if he was about to whip it at any offensive. Of course, Ezan was frightened now. Before Zamari could ask, he explained "This is a defensive behavior because I'm spooked."

Nodding in confirmation to his question... "Of course it is possible! Sis Yume did that to her beast side for long years, because of the sheer rage the beast contained. And she was a human fighting a legendary firebird spirit within herself! Perhaps if you meditate you might be able to encounter and fight them within your soul and within the Bandana. Dominate them and they should bow to your will... And if they are hearing us now..."

Ezan's expression turned serious, lacking any feelings, almost as if he was a robot. "I ain't afraid of no ghost." ... Yes, he dropped that cheesy one-liner. But as sudden as the serious face has come, it has gone.

"I don't have that much faith in myself. I mean: sure, I just reached the second step of my Atmosphere Manipulation, but I cannot hold the blade.", as he moved the hand away, the wind blade faded into nothingness.

After a bit of thought, however... "I think... I got an idea... The spirits are bond to the bandana, right? How about tie it to a dummy and let them observe as you can do well on your own? If you can hold a sword fight without their help, they might see you are stronger than they believe you to be.", that was a dumb idea... But if it is dumb and works, is it still a dumb idea?
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Zamari nodded as Ezan announced his fear of someone else taking the power of his headband. "I'm worried too," he said, "Which is why I must protect this with my life." Of course, the only way someone else could use his headband and its powers was if Zamari was dead. He didn't trust Ezan that much to tell him that, however.

Meditation? That was something that Zamari had tried once before but not for the purpose of challenging spirits. It slightly reminded him of an anime he used to watch that dealt with the afterlife. It was an idea to keep in mind. He would certainly try it on his own time.

It was Ezan's next idea that really flickered a light bulb on in Zamari's head. Why did that never occur to him before? He had been relying on the strength of the headband for so long that it was highly probable that it was one of the very main reasons why the spirits disparaged him so much. He seldom practiced swordsmanship without the transformation so he had very little knowledge of his own skill while in his base form.

"I think it's worth a shot," Zamari agreed.

He walked up to the nearest intact training dummy and tied the headband around its head. Next, he went and grabbed a bokken.

"Guess I'll be needing an opponent."
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The idea was in the air, and Zamari has taken to it. The idea of an opponent, however, had to be caught yet... "Training is all about starting with the lowest step and climbing to the highest Your pace depends on several things... For example, the opponent, your physical conditioning, your psychological...".

As Ezan spoke, he moved to pick up something. "Starting from the highest is likely to make you tumble down on your face back where you should have started. There's no way of cheating your way up, because if someone catches up...", then he swung it over his head, pointing to Zamari. It was a bamboo sword.

"So, for your entry level, I'll be your opponent. Our rules will be: no harm, clash of three points, stop the sword close to the opponent's body with a kiai to announce that it would have struck. Head, chest, stomach, back equals two points. Arms, legs equals one. Are we ready for this?", he didn't look serious, but for a reason: this was meant to be for fun of them both.
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As fate would have it Ezan was to be Zamari's opponent for this practice match. Never mind that it was the most likely outcome considering they were the only two in the dojo that afternoon. Either way Zamari was ready to see what his opponent could do. He firmly grasped the bokken's hilt and shifted into a fighting stance as normally would have if in his samurai form. However, even though the fight had yet to begin, something felt off.

Funny, Zamari thought, It just feels...unnatural.

Maybe it was because it was his first time attempting to spar in his base form or perhaps it was nervousness. There was an odd, nagging feeling within Zamari that begged him not to fight the way he presently intended to. But, there was no backing out of a challenge once accepted. Zamari was going to give it his all and he hoped Ezan would do the same.

"Ready whenever you are. Don't hold back."
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"I will not. If a spirit disrupts your focus, let me know and we'll make a short break... Here we go!", and thus, Ezan would go at him. The lizardman's fighting style wasn't authentic, that much is clear. His moves were inspired by games, obviously, like Mitsuhide Akechi.

He was agile, but predictable. Once a pattern was caught, Ezan was an easy opponent, with the only thing worth worrying about is when his defense would drop... However enough observation of his pattern would show the vulnerability after some overhead swings which coincided with his exhaling.

However Ezan's next attack which gave an opening was dangerously close to Zamari's head, and left the alien open for an attack on the side. Who would declare point first? Zamari? Or Ezan?
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Bracing for Ezan's first move, Zamari was confident that he would fair well in his fight. He had been fighting with a sword for a while and considered himself to be competent. As Ezan charged towards him, Zamari quickly narrowed down his options as to how he could get around his attack.

Zamari instantly found Ezan's swiftness to be remarkable and to be something to watch out for. He also had to account that Ezan had the size advantage over him and would be able to reach him with ease if he was not careful. Thankfully, Zamari was able to at least somewhat read Ezan's movements despite his speed.I'm going to duck his next attack then follow up with a strike to his flank. It seemed like a simple enough strategy. Unfortunately, it was easier said than done.

Moving to avoid getting hit was no problem, Zamari felt the wind from Ezan's strike graze his head as he tilted it away far enough to avoid contact. However, it was the follow up he failed at. Strangely, when Zamari went for a basic horizontal slash - a maneuver he had enacted hundreds of times prior - he found himself falling short, the bokken nearly slipping out of his hands.

W-what? What just happened?

How could he screw up such an elementary move. His opportunity for a point was now missed certainly.

I knew something wasn't right!

Hehehehe...

The low cackling of the spirits slowly crept into his ears and nestled into his mind.
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Ezan felt it coming, his pattern being caught. A mistake he has repeated several times in past and present. And there was not enough time to parry, so he could only accept that he was... Safe? Ezan gave a frown of anger, his eyes averting to the bandana. With a swing, he tossed it.

But before the toss, air accumulated in its grooves guided it until the bamboo sword got out of range, and it would breeze by the bandana... If the dummy was a person, they would have surely felt a breeze blow by, if they had not been stunned by the fact they could have been hit.

His silence was unnerving for a moment, until... "Come on! Are you afraid that he will overthrow you! Just in case you know, I concede, he defeated me! Without your immature intervention, Zamari would have won!", Ezan's tone sounded quite eerie, perhaps because he was really upset.

With a sigh, he patted Zamari's shoulder. "They are quite a pain, eh? Getting in your way, not helping you grow. They are the worst kind of trash... Doesn't matter much, tomorrow we'll get you to fight Elayne, she is more advanced than me in this kind of thing. But if you want to continue today's training, we can go on.", seems Ezan still believed on him...
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