Ashan 29th, 718
Her focus was devoted entirely to the task at hand as she tried to keep a steady hold on her focus. It wasn’t helpful how her mind seemed intent to jump and wander, never wishing to stay in one place for more than a couple moments. It seemed fine gliding through every possible outcome of situations she wasn’t even a part of. So many hypothetical messes to clean up in her head as she desperately clung to the situations she was faced with daily. It all needed to be blocked out. Her focus needed to remain on her situation with Noth at present. What was she going to do with him? There was the option of basically just giving up and letting him do as he pleased. But that would cause even more problems eventually. If only she could talk to him, maybe try to reason with him and understand what he was doing. There was a small part of her that though, hoped, that their goals wouldn’t be nearly as different as their means.
Of course, the half-breed for all of her courage was something of a coward when it came to actually speaking with others, especially those she held a fondness for or in high regard. It took more courage than she would care to admit just interacting with other people! She was anti-social to a degree someone might not expect from a hero who more often than not within town flaunted warm smiles and gentle laughter. It didn’t change the fact that a little ball would always be resting in the pit of her stomach, heavy and by all means painful. It caused her insides to churn in an upset matter whenever she was required to perform any kind of social action. That didn’t use to matter too much. As a child the only people she interacted with were the ones she sought on her own terms, making the little ball feel lighter. Of course, the Master wasn’t someone she actively sought but he also didn’t cause the same strange seed of anxiety. Usually just anger and fear in a different means of the word. As a teen, it was even better since no one wanted her around. If she had no other use to being around than being a sellsword, she wasn’t required to speak to others, just fight. True she was surrounded by hatred, but it wasn’t as painful a feeling as this. There was a sharp contrast between the emotional pain then and the physical pain now.
No, now that she was becoming a hero and having various responsibilities placed on her shoulders by the people of Etzos she was starting to be relied on as more than a fighter. She was slowly being pushed into the position of a political figure of all things! The thought alone could send shivers of guttural fear racing all the way up and down her spine. Her heart rammed the inside of her rib cage at the mere mention of being in a position of power. She didn’t like it, but what other choice did she have?
The woman at the very least had a steel-clad resolve. If she couldn’t find a less social way to protect the innocent people of Etzos, then she’d find a way to beat the tar out of her anxiety! Which led her to where she was now, trying to use a rough form of meditation based on childhood memories of what a gardener once taught her when she was little more than five or six. Suffice to say, she wasn't learning as well as she'd hoped let alone as quickly.
It was still Nightshade though, fire and brimstone lit determination in her blood. Fighting was always the answer somehow. Even when it was a conversation everything was always a fight. A battle for superiority and life. Work was a fight to not drown in the harassment of her boss. Talking casually with blackguards was always a fight to make a good impression. Buying things was always a fight to spend the least money against an opponent who wanted more money. Waking up in the morning was even a fight against her own self, a fight which was getting progressively easier. It was almost funny. When she was hated by everyone in Etzos she had crippling depression. Now with all of the pressure to be the perfect hero, she was starting to develop crippling anxiety. There was no rest for the wicked and no winning for the kind.
The half-breed had resolved to find some kind of answer against the perpetual feeling of something being wrong, so she’d looked around. It didn't actually occur to her for a while that there was a rather useful and easy method quickly at her disposal that wasn't drugs. Meditation. Surely it could be helpful to her goal? She didn’t know much about meditation though… Let alone any kind of internal peace. She was still trying to figure out who she was as a person, and even though she was starting to learn each step forward was followed by half a step back. She was a constant ball of chaos and fear on wings, she wasn’t typically the kind of person to understand the word serenity let alone feel it. Of course, if this didn’t work it couldn’t do any harm. So what was the worst that could actually happen? Why did that make her feel more anxious…
The half-breed tried to take a deep steadying breath in order to recollect her thoughts. There was silence for a moment as a calm came with the breath, but the chaos came rushing back with a furry not more than moments later as she released the breath. Again, she tried to take a deep calming breath. This time she focused on the air itself. The way it chilled going down her lungs and the rush of icy calm that rested in her chest. The pit in her stomach didn’t seem much affected after though.
The problem with the little ball had to be with the nature of the ball. When the heaviness decided to rest in her chest it wasn’t as bad. There was no denying the fact it was still greatly annoying, but it wasn’t painful in the traditional sense of the word. It was a different fluttery, intense kind of feeling she wouldn't necessarily call pain, and it was a lot easier to deal with that the churning stabs in her stomach whenever the ball decided to rest there. So instead of letting it rest there, she tried to force it upwards into her chest. Her chest heaved with another breath, puffing outwards with the large intake. She could feel even her shoulders shrugging slightly. She then let the air slip through her nostrils at a slow pace. She tried to let the anxiety out but it wasn’t really working.
She needed something to take her mind off of… well, literally everything. Literally everything except for her own breathing. The movements of her chest and the filling of air in her lungs as she focused her attention on nothing other than her own body. It worked for a short moment her attention zoning in on her own existence alone, but then Storm sneeze. The Zelroux, so innocent and harmless towards his master, just had to go and sneeze and the thoughts that she’d finally gotten under control for the first time in immortals know how many arcs went careening back in every other direction as her body jolted in shock. Noth, Lady Terris, the Captain, all of the new people in the city, Noth, bandits, Noth, Vuda, Noth. Noth, Noth, Noth, Noth.
“Damn it Storm!” She yelled. The Zelroux jumped slightly, looking at her in confusion. The tone of her voice was evidently angry and her face was awash with rage. Did he care? No. He just put his head right back down and closed his eyes. The lucky beast had no problem going to sleep. Unlike a certain half-breed. She hadn’t slept since a trial or two ago, she wasn't sure which but her insomnia was becoming especially bad with thoughts of the business dancing around her head. Even then, how many breaks was she even asleep? Again, she couldn’t remember.
The problem here was slowly becoming a little more evident, but she wouldn’t admit it. No, that would be no different than admitting defeat and if the half-breed possessed any kind of pride it was the pride that she couldn’t and wouldn’t be defeated. Most certainly not by her own rebellious emotions, she would not fall to the chemical anarchy her own brain was trying to bring about! She turned her hand into a tight fist, pretending that she was strangling the thoughts until they had no breath with which to torment her. Until they were forced into silence. The aggressive approach was far less helpful than actually trying to calm herself down as now she was just making herself angry. Her talons scratched at the stone underneath her as she switched the position in which she was sitting multiple times.
This wasn’t working anymore. The actual meditation had been working for a short time though. She sighed, resigning herself to the fact she was just going to need some practice. There was no other way around it. It had worked though, and that was enough of a small victory to at least give her a little courage for the future. She tried not to focus on the way her stomach yowled angrily and wrathfully, how it hurt so bad she didn’t want to stand up let alone move in any way that wasn’t writhing. She pushed it farther and farther away from her thoughts, blocking out the pain like she always did. She wouldn’t have to deal with it for much longer. She was going to fight it. With slow and careful breaths she would push it farther and farther away until she couldn’t feel it, until it couldn’t bother her. She wouldn’t have to deal with it and then she could be happy again and start moving forward to a better future. She could try even harder for the sake of those around her!
And then Storm sneezed.
"Common"
"Ith'ession"
Of course, the half-breed for all of her courage was something of a coward when it came to actually speaking with others, especially those she held a fondness for or in high regard. It took more courage than she would care to admit just interacting with other people! She was anti-social to a degree someone might not expect from a hero who more often than not within town flaunted warm smiles and gentle laughter. It didn’t change the fact that a little ball would always be resting in the pit of her stomach, heavy and by all means painful. It caused her insides to churn in an upset matter whenever she was required to perform any kind of social action. That didn’t use to matter too much. As a child the only people she interacted with were the ones she sought on her own terms, making the little ball feel lighter. Of course, the Master wasn’t someone she actively sought but he also didn’t cause the same strange seed of anxiety. Usually just anger and fear in a different means of the word. As a teen, it was even better since no one wanted her around. If she had no other use to being around than being a sellsword, she wasn’t required to speak to others, just fight. True she was surrounded by hatred, but it wasn’t as painful a feeling as this. There was a sharp contrast between the emotional pain then and the physical pain now.
No, now that she was becoming a hero and having various responsibilities placed on her shoulders by the people of Etzos she was starting to be relied on as more than a fighter. She was slowly being pushed into the position of a political figure of all things! The thought alone could send shivers of guttural fear racing all the way up and down her spine. Her heart rammed the inside of her rib cage at the mere mention of being in a position of power. She didn’t like it, but what other choice did she have?
The woman at the very least had a steel-clad resolve. If she couldn’t find a less social way to protect the innocent people of Etzos, then she’d find a way to beat the tar out of her anxiety! Which led her to where she was now, trying to use a rough form of meditation based on childhood memories of what a gardener once taught her when she was little more than five or six. Suffice to say, she wasn't learning as well as she'd hoped let alone as quickly.
It was still Nightshade though, fire and brimstone lit determination in her blood. Fighting was always the answer somehow. Even when it was a conversation everything was always a fight. A battle for superiority and life. Work was a fight to not drown in the harassment of her boss. Talking casually with blackguards was always a fight to make a good impression. Buying things was always a fight to spend the least money against an opponent who wanted more money. Waking up in the morning was even a fight against her own self, a fight which was getting progressively easier. It was almost funny. When she was hated by everyone in Etzos she had crippling depression. Now with all of the pressure to be the perfect hero, she was starting to develop crippling anxiety. There was no rest for the wicked and no winning for the kind.
The half-breed had resolved to find some kind of answer against the perpetual feeling of something being wrong, so she’d looked around. It didn't actually occur to her for a while that there was a rather useful and easy method quickly at her disposal that wasn't drugs. Meditation. Surely it could be helpful to her goal? She didn’t know much about meditation though… Let alone any kind of internal peace. She was still trying to figure out who she was as a person, and even though she was starting to learn each step forward was followed by half a step back. She was a constant ball of chaos and fear on wings, she wasn’t typically the kind of person to understand the word serenity let alone feel it. Of course, if this didn’t work it couldn’t do any harm. So what was the worst that could actually happen? Why did that make her feel more anxious…
The half-breed tried to take a deep steadying breath in order to recollect her thoughts. There was silence for a moment as a calm came with the breath, but the chaos came rushing back with a furry not more than moments later as she released the breath. Again, she tried to take a deep calming breath. This time she focused on the air itself. The way it chilled going down her lungs and the rush of icy calm that rested in her chest. The pit in her stomach didn’t seem much affected after though.
The problem with the little ball had to be with the nature of the ball. When the heaviness decided to rest in her chest it wasn’t as bad. There was no denying the fact it was still greatly annoying, but it wasn’t painful in the traditional sense of the word. It was a different fluttery, intense kind of feeling she wouldn't necessarily call pain, and it was a lot easier to deal with that the churning stabs in her stomach whenever the ball decided to rest there. So instead of letting it rest there, she tried to force it upwards into her chest. Her chest heaved with another breath, puffing outwards with the large intake. She could feel even her shoulders shrugging slightly. She then let the air slip through her nostrils at a slow pace. She tried to let the anxiety out but it wasn’t really working.
She needed something to take her mind off of… well, literally everything. Literally everything except for her own breathing. The movements of her chest and the filling of air in her lungs as she focused her attention on nothing other than her own body. It worked for a short moment her attention zoning in on her own existence alone, but then Storm sneeze. The Zelroux, so innocent and harmless towards his master, just had to go and sneeze and the thoughts that she’d finally gotten under control for the first time in immortals know how many arcs went careening back in every other direction as her body jolted in shock. Noth, Lady Terris, the Captain, all of the new people in the city, Noth, bandits, Noth, Vuda, Noth. Noth, Noth, Noth, Noth.
“Damn it Storm!” She yelled. The Zelroux jumped slightly, looking at her in confusion. The tone of her voice was evidently angry and her face was awash with rage. Did he care? No. He just put his head right back down and closed his eyes. The lucky beast had no problem going to sleep. Unlike a certain half-breed. She hadn’t slept since a trial or two ago, she wasn't sure which but her insomnia was becoming especially bad with thoughts of the business dancing around her head. Even then, how many breaks was she even asleep? Again, she couldn’t remember.
The problem here was slowly becoming a little more evident, but she wouldn’t admit it. No, that would be no different than admitting defeat and if the half-breed possessed any kind of pride it was the pride that she couldn’t and wouldn’t be defeated. Most certainly not by her own rebellious emotions, she would not fall to the chemical anarchy her own brain was trying to bring about! She turned her hand into a tight fist, pretending that she was strangling the thoughts until they had no breath with which to torment her. Until they were forced into silence. The aggressive approach was far less helpful than actually trying to calm herself down as now she was just making herself angry. Her talons scratched at the stone underneath her as she switched the position in which she was sitting multiple times.
This wasn’t working anymore. The actual meditation had been working for a short time though. She sighed, resigning herself to the fact she was just going to need some practice. There was no other way around it. It had worked though, and that was enough of a small victory to at least give her a little courage for the future. She tried not to focus on the way her stomach yowled angrily and wrathfully, how it hurt so bad she didn’t want to stand up let alone move in any way that wasn’t writhing. She pushed it farther and farther away from her thoughts, blocking out the pain like she always did. She wouldn’t have to deal with it for much longer. She was going to fight it. With slow and careful breaths she would push it farther and farther away until she couldn’t feel it, until it couldn’t bother her. She wouldn’t have to deal with it and then she could be happy again and start moving forward to a better future. She could try even harder for the sake of those around her!
And then Storm sneezed.
"Common"
"Ith'ession"
