[Well. The plant life here is certainly odd. Ikaruga finds vines grasping her legs, but after telling them that it’s really not polite to grab a lady without her permission and asking them politely to release her, they do.
The singing mushrooms are strange. Ikaruga attempts to give them singing lessons. It’s an exercise in futility. They’re still off-key. Although the fact that they’re singing at all is interesting, considering their lack of vocal cords.
It’s the flowers that actually get to Ikaruga.
“Taken to be a tool for a higher being’s struggle yet again,” one flower chimes.
“I wish Vidaldus and Fukuro were here, or T--”
The flowers are abruptly cut off from further voicing Ikaruga’s private thoughts when she draws her sword and slices them in one swift arc.]
That’s quite enough.
[Cautiously, another flower speaks. “Dead flowers tell no tales.” And then it’s quiet. Message received.]
Training
[To say that she’s not happy with the alteration to her powers is an understatement. To find the magic she’s had since childhood and developed over years of training suddenly stripped from her has shaken her more than any of the dangerous situations she’s faced have ever managed. Something so fundamentally part of her life, just gone.
The power that’s in its place has the appearance of her magic aura. Glowing pink energy that looks like flower petals blowing in the wind around her. She’s not sure if this was meant to be a small comfort to her, or a mockery of what she used to have. Or it may even be that Astoria liked the aesthetic enough to want to keep it in tact.
Surely there has to be more to it than just light, so she roams some distance away to train. She finds quickly enough that she’s able to direct the petal shaped energy constructs, and that they can cut.
To test her aim and focus, she collects a handful of twigs from the ground. They’re tossed in the air, and she sets the petals on them as the twigs plummet downward. By the time they’ve reached the ground, every twig has been cut through at least once. She’s well aware that someone’s watching her, so she remarks aloud.]
Hmm. Weak compared to my magic, but not wholly useless.
Ikaruga - OPEN
[Well. The plant life here is certainly odd. Ikaruga finds vines grasping her legs, but after telling them that it’s really not polite to grab a lady without her permission and asking them politely to release her, they do.
The singing mushrooms are strange. Ikaruga attempts to give them singing lessons. It’s an exercise in futility. They’re still off-key. Although the fact that they’re singing at all is interesting, considering their lack of vocal cords.
It’s the flowers that actually get to Ikaruga.
“Taken to be a tool for a higher being’s struggle yet again,” one flower chimes.
“I wish Vidaldus and Fukuro were here, or T--”
The flowers are abruptly cut off from further voicing Ikaruga’s private thoughts when she draws her sword and slices them in one swift arc.]
That’s quite enough.
[Cautiously, another flower speaks. “Dead flowers tell no tales.” And then it’s quiet. Message received.]
Training
[To say that she’s not happy with the alteration to her powers is an understatement. To find the magic she’s had since childhood and developed over years of training suddenly stripped from her has shaken her more than any of the dangerous situations she’s faced have ever managed. Something so fundamentally part of her life, just gone.
The power that’s in its place has the appearance of her magic aura. Glowing pink energy that looks like flower petals blowing in the wind around her. She’s not sure if this was meant to be a small comfort to her, or a mockery of what she used to have. Or it may even be that Astoria liked the aesthetic enough to want to keep it in tact.
Surely there has to be more to it than just light, so she roams some distance away to train. She finds quickly enough that she’s able to direct the petal shaped energy constructs, and that they can cut.
To test her aim and focus, she collects a handful of twigs from the ground. They’re tossed in the air, and she sets the petals on them as the twigs plummet downward. By the time they’ve reached the ground, every twig has been cut through at least once. She’s well aware that someone’s watching her, so she remarks aloud.]
Hmm. Weak compared to my magic, but not wholly useless.