|Ken Hidaka (inmatebychoice) wrote in marinasylum,|
@ 2011-03-22 04:47:00
|Entry tags:||:action, alice, ashura, ken hidaka, kitty pryde (aoa), lyle dylandy, roxas, wayward vagabond, yosuke otoha|
[Action/Open | Athletic Complex | Daytime]
[Ken is out early, as the impossibly long night threatened to suffocate him. The artificial daylight had barely covered the dome, as he steps out to run around the park and the beach.
But it is not enough...
At the Complex, he started off with smooth and controlled forms -- orderly, precise. Calculated as not one millimeter of movement, nor a breath was wasted -- purposeful, valid.
We exist to preserve the purity that is left in this world...
I thought it sounded like you enjoyed flowers...
Then came opponents -- all in his head. Never mind the absence of weapons. This is what he was trained to do. This is what he lived for. As the late Persia had but it -- he was a hunter of the Light, a soldier to smite the beasts of darkness.
We are a necessary evil...
It is normal! ... Who are you to say differently?
Never mind the opponents -- whether they be imaginary or real. He is tasked to take them down -- he must take them down. Like the large punching bag that was absorbing his blows, his anger -- as if perhaps tearing it open with his absent claws will give him answers.
He had no blades, but the blood that forever stained his hands were all too real.
Is saying hell a lot making you feel better?
The chain upon which the bag hung creaked and groaned, as the calculated strikes made contact, one after the other, merciless, animal-like; breathing eearily controlled to be killing quiet save for the sound of contact on the beaten leather surface. Not a single opening was left for the imaginary opponent to get himself back up or even fight back...
The gates of hell are closing -- hurry up and die!
... and then he was finished. In other circumstances, there would be the sound of a neck breaking, or that of a person struggling from keeping himself bleeding to death. But all that can be heard was the dull thud of a final blow against the punching bag.
Taking calming breaths as he closes his eyes. He decides to take a break, sitting on a bench, towel over his head, randomly wiping away the sweat getting his eyes and sipping at his water.]
(( OOC: In case you guys are wondering, the quotes are from Ken's exchanges with Euphie mixed with those from Weiß Kreuz. Alas, he can't be interrupted in his "meditations", but he can chat for a bit (and maybe a spar or two, but please bear with my fail '''orz) now that he's done. Pardon the tl;dr. He'll play nice now. :3;; ))