Tsuchigakure Gates
Jun 9, 2011 7:48:19 GMT -8
Post by Tyro on Jun 9, 2011 7:48:19 GMT -8
They weren't taught much in Iron concerning the afterlife. Only that a man must die, preferably in battle. It retained their honor, dying near their personal blade, within their armor, but they told him nothing of what came after. At the moment, he had no vision, his eyes rolled in the back of his head with the oddest of indescribable sensations about him. Serene but still worried of what came next. He could feel his worry, his doubt, it was more palpable than his consciousness. Worry of what was to come next. He couldn't even fight it. The terrifying thought that he could not escape it of his own accord.
Akio was unaware as his body violently convulsed. Bodily movements were not nearly his concern at the moment, obviously. Akio realized somewhere in his subconscious that he needed a sparse amount of concentration to keep his life in even his unstable state. Then....
It was as if his mind were being gently lured out of his body, being dragged up by a fisherman in the sky. It wasn't something he could truly see exactly, more just a feeling that it happened. As though everything were in a haze, he felt himself outside of his body, looking upon himself and whoever this person kneeling over him was.
And just as suddenly, he felt back into his frame, and continuing to convulse uncontrollably. Moving without control of himself, it was more-so a gentle vibrating of his muscles. Just as suddenly, Akio realized he was conscious. At least more in control of his body, which was as close to consciousness as he knew. He was being lifted and then was struck. Years of existence on this battlefield allowed him to recognize it easily as an open hand slap. His head barely tried to nullify impact, simply lolling over to his right, and back to the left. He didn't even feel any pain.
The second strike somehow managed to bring back his senses. His hearing. A blurry sight, bettering by the second. His sense of awareness, but most importantly the memory of where he was and why. Those images rushed to his mind as a freight train, giving him a headache as they ported in his mind, and subsiding immediately after. Then the third, and fourth strikes, coming faster while he heard the female speak. Telling him not to die. In the state he was in, he had to agree, odd as it was to suggest he was even near death. It was an experience not many liked to admit.
He noticed his body had stopped moving, with a small effort on his part, the strike as well, though her hand was above her. He knew the intention. His right arm, armored and all, even attempted to come up and stop it, though in his extremely weak state his arm was near futile for a good while. So instead, he complied with the girl's wishes, his head lolling again up and down lazily.
He wouldn't be in any condition for, well, anything. But he was alive.
Akio was unaware as his body violently convulsed. Bodily movements were not nearly his concern at the moment, obviously. Akio realized somewhere in his subconscious that he needed a sparse amount of concentration to keep his life in even his unstable state. Then....
It was as if his mind were being gently lured out of his body, being dragged up by a fisherman in the sky. It wasn't something he could truly see exactly, more just a feeling that it happened. As though everything were in a haze, he felt himself outside of his body, looking upon himself and whoever this person kneeling over him was.
And just as suddenly, he felt back into his frame, and continuing to convulse uncontrollably. Moving without control of himself, it was more-so a gentle vibrating of his muscles. Just as suddenly, Akio realized he was conscious. At least more in control of his body, which was as close to consciousness as he knew. He was being lifted and then was struck. Years of existence on this battlefield allowed him to recognize it easily as an open hand slap. His head barely tried to nullify impact, simply lolling over to his right, and back to the left. He didn't even feel any pain.
The second strike somehow managed to bring back his senses. His hearing. A blurry sight, bettering by the second. His sense of awareness, but most importantly the memory of where he was and why. Those images rushed to his mind as a freight train, giving him a headache as they ported in his mind, and subsiding immediately after. Then the third, and fourth strikes, coming faster while he heard the female speak. Telling him not to die. In the state he was in, he had to agree, odd as it was to suggest he was even near death. It was an experience not many liked to admit.
He noticed his body had stopped moving, with a small effort on his part, the strike as well, though her hand was above her. He knew the intention. His right arm, armored and all, even attempted to come up and stop it, though in his extremely weak state his arm was near futile for a good while. So instead, he complied with the girl's wishes, his head lolling again up and down lazily.
He wouldn't be in any condition for, well, anything. But he was alive.
