The Zen and Fury in Healing

Anything you might want to try out that doesn't temporally or thematically fit the serial should go here. This is an ideal space for all your what-ifs and might-have-beens, as well as for your average silliness.
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: The Zen and Fury in Healing

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"Thanks. Hopefully, it'll be a while before that happens," Miranda answered with a cheerful smile.

"Marius has been making some considerable efforts already, since we've been here," Aspasia commented, nodding her head with encouraging confidence.
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Re: The Zen and Fury in Healing

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"Yes, my being here was an accomplishment in itself, considering how my morning had gone beforehand." He flicked his fingers in a dismissive motion. "Wrong side of the bed, cold coffee, planners' block. You know how it is."

Planners' block would imply he'd spent a little time at the drafting table before coming over, and that it hadn't gone well. It was likewise implied that if it had been going well, he'd still be over there, hunched over his blueprints, drawing away and muttering feverishly. Yet here he was.

"I'm not sure if I'm actually learning anything or if the company is doing it, but it's easier to ignore the Noise since I showed up. It took some time, and I probably scared poor Miranda there," and he gave the little faun a short bow, "but progress is being made."
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Re: The Zen and Fury in Healing

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"Ah," noted Herbert, eyes sliding over to Miranda. "Nothing too serious, I hope?"

Shen Long gave the girl a smile. "A few stiff neck muscles, later on - perhaps some athletic rub and a painkiller or two. It's understandably difficult for someone well-versed in total subjugation to learn the value of proper sparring," he explained, without a trace of accusation in his tone. Hearing this, Wormsworth pouted slightly.

"Our little bubble never fails to amaze me, it seems," he told Marius, "it seems I suffer from the exact opposite of your situation," he admitted, adding a smirk. "A nether-world courtroom lizard charged with the Sin of Pride rightfully wouldn't seem like the most battle-hardened of opponents. Following an adversary's momentum and disengaging both come naturally enough - but pressing on?"

He grimaced slightly. "The worst I used to dish out were glacial repartees at the prohibitively expensive dive Cacus' juniors frequented - except for that one time I jabbed that particularly brazen fool in Accounting with a finger..."

Feeling self-conscious, he rotated a wrist. "Violence is more given to Wrath than Pride, in any case. The Goat was an expert in bloviation with an upstart's grasp on passive-aggressiveness.
- You still need to set boundaries," noted Shen Long. "Your position is a perilous one, Herbert, with small droves of castellans and keepers under your sway, all of them well-versed in open combat. I'm sure you and Marius both remember Grishnakhal - you've brought him up in your previous visits."

Herbert looked annoyed. "Couldn't I just pull a Gandalf or a Galadriel and subjugate the fool with the Vice's full magnitude?
- That would only ever be a temporary setback for him," reminded the dragon. "We are at peace, now, but some amongst Pride have spent their entire lives speaking of war. They will dubious of anyone unwilling to pick up a sword to defend their cause."

The attorney tsked. "I suppose so, but I really don't do Brutishlly Powerful," he said, then gesturing at himself. "I put up a Veil or two the last time we were in Hell and could aesthetically Hulk out, of course, but all I had to do was parade around with a sword and cape and a chestplate I thought would've looked better on one of Asterix's centurions."

Chuckling, Shen Long exchanged a look between Aspasia and Marius. "Well, then. Who amongst you two would like a go at this wilting flower I find myself humoring as a student?"

That also made Herbert chuckle, and he stood up with a grunt and a few short pauses, in as inefficient a way as non-combatants could typically find. "Schoolyard japes, eh? Someone else might have been piqued - this is just cute, coming from you, sifu."
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Re: The Zen and Fury in Healing

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Miranda tilted her ears downward as she thought over her potential as a temporary bully of sorts. "I can give it a try," she offered.

The young Fauness approached the Prince, adding a saunter to her hips. She scrutinized and sneered at him, searching for any seemingly open weaknesses. Miranda knew that teenagers could be rather cruel, but they were at least a starting point for Herbert. Depending on his defenses, they could work up from there.

Given that this wasn't a standard spar, there would be no respectful bows or forewarning for him to brace against any insults. She belted out, "HEY, NEEDLENOSE! YOUR FACE LOOKS LIKE IT WAS BURNT BY A FRYING PAN! DID YOU USE TOO MUCH BRONZER THIS MORNING!"

Given she was mildly amused by her daughter's attempt, Aspasia joined her and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Mira, I'm glad I didn't raise a Mean Girl, but that's not really what we're looking for..."

Blushing faintly, Miranda gave Wormsworth a thumbs-up and a quick good luck, before moving over to the side.

"As for you..." the former commander drawled at him, her demeanor shifting suddenly. Her shoulders firmly squared, the stance of her legs making her seem taller despite standing at six foot already.

She closed in on him, making any exits appear impossible. She fiercely grabbed onto the lapel of his finely tailored jacket and tsked with revulsion. "You know, the Goat was a shitty commander because he treated his troops as cannon fodder; he had no honor or respect toward them," she started coldly. "However, he could probably at least fence."

"You?! You can't do anything besides briefly fake an intimidating presence! Pathetic! That kind of attitude would have you shivved or shot in Paradise like that, Wormsworth!" she yelled harshly, snapping her fingers.

She continued pushing further, until he was suddenly up against a wall. "Crowning you the Prince of Pride was a mistake! You're nothing more than a spineless paper pusher in a fancy suit! Your armor might as well be made of cardboard! A leader who can't fight with and for his soldiers is no leader at all! Any usurper could take your seat!"

"Why should anyone follow your command, you cowardly princeling?!" she demanded cruelly, having somehow picked up a wooden bokken along the way. The satyress then laid the edge of the blade against his throat as though she could genuinely do lethal damage with it.
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Re: The Zen and Fury in Healing

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If anything, Miranda's attempt at verbal abuse ripped an amused snort out of the lawyer and Prince. He smirked, a few teeth showing, and was likely about to retort or at least comment her efforts when Aspasia quite literally got up in his face. Amusement left his features and was replaced with genuine surprise. The white of his tracksuit faintly gleamed, as if someone had inlaid LEDs amidst the threads that constituted it, but it was a flickering and faint companion to the radiance he'd already had cause to show in front of other Pitspawn, since being crowned. A nervous chuckle escaped him, followed by a cough.

"Y-You would dare to belittle a Prince of Hell?!" he asked, trying to sound imperious and mostly failing at it. He obviously didn't know whether to be amused, to take it seriously or worse, to let her stature push against his currently hesitating magnificience.

He cleared his throat and worked his head, trying to alleviate some of the pressure the bokken caused on his neck. "I, er, suppose this is the part where I compare your mortal failings to my deathlessness, gloat about knowing more than your limited scope of knowledge could ever encompass and then reply with my own facile insults worthy of some Hollywood imp with a chip on their shoulder, eh?"

In speaking, he bought himself a few seconds and looped his tail around one of Aspasia's ankles, then pulling her leg away at a sufficiently acute level to cause her to lose balance. Once she did, he wriggled free of her and brought his wings into being, both blinding her with a sudden rush of air and using that single beat of his appendages to effectively leap away. He then looked back to Shen Long, who glanced at Marius - likely to seek his opinion.

"I see no assertion there, Herbert," noted the dragon. "Only avoidance. If you had no charge to speak of, this would please me as a tactician - but you no longer are a civilian. As I've said, disengaging was an easy lesson for you to master, but you've yet to land strikes of your own."

The lawyer sputtered. "I can't hit her, she's my friend!"

That made the dragon chuckle. "Sometimes, the mortal plane's wiles are simply too strong for those of your kind," he noted, smirking. "I suppose it has to do with how far into the opposite extreme you used to be. You've thrown yourself headfirst into living amongst us, and haven't yet found your point of balance. Keep going like this, and soon you'll be deferring to Grishnakhal out of fear of bloodshed, only to wake up with your handiwork - and your friends' lives - having ended as a result of your inaction."

The new Prince obviously knew what the dragon was getting at, but seemed conflicted. His eyes darted between Aspasia, Miranda, Shen Long and Marius, while Allocer simply sat back. "I'm not getting involved," the former Duke said, hands raised, "I'm too easy a target. You wouldn't learn a thing if I lifted a hand against you, Herbert - I'm just vaguely Grish-shaped."
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Re: The Zen and Fury in Healing

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Verbal sparring, was it? Marius grinned at the idea, showing his fangs as he did so. Even the Noise seemed to agree it was a good idea, urging him on.

"Guess it's my turn, to throw a little shade," he said as he stepped forward, "this won't take long, I've surely got it made."

He faced the Prince, grin turning to a smirk. "But I've always thought, why not do it in rhyme? Up in here with these folks, there's plenty of time!"

"To throw hands at the Prince is a waste of my might! Look at him, girly, obsessed with things trite!
"He doesn't know a single damn thing about Pride! Watch, I'll not go near and STILL tan his hide!
"If you're gonna step up, perhaps a suggestion? Return here once you've dealt with that erection!"

Not his best work, but he was no rapster. He cracked his knuckles and waited for Herb's response.
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Re: The Zen and Fury in Healing

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Herbert's expression went from a mixture of confusion and dismay to a brief display of squinting incomprehension. You couldn't damage his Ego like this; insults had to be genuine! How could he hope to mature as a fighter if some of the most battle-hardened people he knew default to Magnus Haraldson's flyting or to impromptu Slam poetry?! He then opted to ride his confusion through to the end, to at least see where his colleagues intended to take things. So, with a shake of his head and a snort, he partially unfurled his wings and stood his ground in front of them, like a Pop-Psych workshop host pumping his crowd.

"In eons 'pon eons, insults and jeers;
Hath render'd Pride's bulwark as Acteon's deers.
Swift and quick be our wit, our countenance of steel
And thou see'th me as a twit - as a buffoon, should I feel!

I defended Princes, saved monsters from negation;
Judgments to mince by my hand, absolving sins of Creation;
I, a clerk of law, beat Limbo's cruel drums.
My weapon a pen, my voice as my shield
The Covenant to append, baleful enemies to yield

Now there is no pen, no desk, no paper;
No dotted line, no contract or ledger-

You stand before me, fateful friends
And ask that I fight;
That flesh I do rend
And defend Pride's might
But none have given me a single letter!

No letter, no missive, none of what I may use
"Use your fists!" says the old man
Prithee - how?! I was not made for such abuse!"

Shen Long nodded thoughtfully and then looked back to Marius.

"The Song of the Deep have you heard, seen its lock, turned its key
A weaver of dreams are you now, that is plain to see.

Herbert fears for your loss, the end of your days, the visitation of pain
Show him his world turned to so much dross, gladness outstayed, gone - washed away in the rain."
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Re: The Zen and Fury in Healing

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Marius cocked his head at Long's words. What was he suggesting? That the Black Speech be used? That he put Herbert to sleep and show him nightmares of what would happen if he did not step up? He didn't need the Speech for any of those things, but...

"You lament the lack of a pen, and I see your confusion deepen,
"But look down at my own hands, oh barrister, and watch as I t4k3 th1ngs t0 4n0th3r r3g1st3r..."

As he spoke, those around him would hear the harsh buzzing of the Black Speech, but none of the usual mind-rending affects, and the words would come clear nonetheless. He held his hands out, and in the air before him an illusion of light and shadow appeared.

"S33 y0urs3lf, 0 c0w4rd, 1n 4ll y0ur m1ght, th3 w1ngs, th3 4rm0r, r3spl3nd3nt 1n fl1ght."

Herbert himself, bearing the full Mantle of Pride. Towering above others, great wings outstretched, spiked armor gleaming and malicious as he soared through the air.

"Th3 L3g10ns 0f Pr1d3 4nsw3r t0 Y0U! 4w41t1ng y0ur c0mm4nd, t0 cl34v3 4nd t0 h3w!"

The ground below took shape, as the vast empty badlands of Hell, full of vast hosts of soldiers who looked up and roared at the sight of their commander.

"But wh4t 1s th1s? 4 ch4ll3ng3r! T1s 0ur g00d fri3nd Gr1shn4kh4l! 4rm0r sh1n1ng just 4s d4rk, burn1ng wh1p, s33n by 4ll!"

Opposing Herbert's army was one just as vast, led by their familiar nemesis. He cracked his whip and waved his sword before throwing it to the ground!

"H3 1ssu3s h1s ch4ll3ng3, full 0f br4v4d0 4nd r4g3! H3 s33ks Y0UR cr0wn! Y0u w0uld d3f3nd w1th 4 p4g3?"

Herbert flies down to answer the call, but even with the Mantle, he cannot match the hardened brute. Grish bests him easily, and though there is no sound, it is easy to imagine the illusory Herbert wailing about how they should have fought in a courtroom instead.

"0n th3 b4ttl3f13ld th3r3 1s n0 subst1tut3 f0r str3ngth! Gr1sh w1ll c4r3 n0t f0r y0ur l4w r3c0rds' l3ngth!
"S0 m4n up, my fr13nd, 4nd l34rn th3 br4wl3rs' w4ys! Wh3n h3 comes calling it will surely extend your days!"

As he transitioned back to regular speaking the illusion faded away, until there was just Grish's face, leering and laughing at Herbert in scornful victory. Then it too, disappeared with a wink.
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Re: The Zen and Fury in Healing

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Herbert had first tried to recoil and protest, to hop and flap away - protesting Marius' challenge as being unfair. The Black Speech didn't care for distances, however, so long as it was heard, and the Prince clutched at his head in a way that would've seemed familiar to Vlastos, as well as slightly different. The demon's mind hadn't been broken, it had been tested, as Nereus of Dalarath had tested Charles Jenkins' and Aidan Drake's, as Penfield Hilliard's ensemble had tested his - and the Prince of Pride loathed confronting his weakness. Having been forced to the opposite end of the dojo, Herbert placed a knee down and bolstered himself with his hands. Shen Long, seeing this, advanced.

"Your friends are bested, the world you sought to craft and weave is no more, Lilith and Lucifer's covenant with you is in tatters - but you can still save a few lives. Show me what you would do, Herbert Mallory Wormsworth, O Prince of Pride."

Clenching his teeth, Wormsworth narrowed his big eyes, clenched his teeth and snarled - and pushed himself off the floor. He wasn't much stronger or faster than Shen Long was, but their forms differed substantially. Herbert at his most guarded functioned as a bit of a Wing Chun practitioner, if wings had served as added means for a martial artist to maintain balance. He wasn't guarded now, however - his stance having completely changed in comparison to his earlier lessons. Not that the others would notice, but they'd certainly catch Shen Long's brief spark of surprise. Now, Shen Long's millennia-old Taijiquan relative was opposed to something bold, brash and angry - like a mixture of Pencak Silat and Krav Maga. An arm-locking manoeuver led into a push-kick, and a bewildered Oriental Dragon could do little as a reedy and usually effaced and preening snob kicked themselves off the ground, flipped twice in mid-air and then extended a leg before landing in a three-point pose, that flashing leg connecting with the top of Shen Long's skull and bringing him to the dojo's floor with a loud grunt. Teeth flashed, a thin filet of blood escaped the sensei's mouth.

"I refuse to fight in any other arena than the courtroom," seethed Herbert. "My predecessor wanted Pride to engulf this plane, and I contend that my Virtue is to be contained in specific venues. If I fight for Pride, I lose. I cannot fight for something that rests in each and every one of you - I can only fight for you, selflessly and in complete trust of what you've chosen to place in my care."

Grunting, Shen Long lifted himself off the floor. "I was wrong, then," he said, chuckling. "Pride is not the issue, you are rather proving yourself to be more complex than your tithe would suggest."

Herbert extended a hand and helped the dragon steady himself. "I'll never bring Pride out in the open. That was one of the Goat's mistakes. I exist as its Prince, but if I move to defend those I care for in its name alone, then I've failed the lessons the Goat should have learned."

He looked back to Marius. "Pride stays in the court and courtroom alike, Marius - but if someone lays a hand on you and I find myself compelled to act; I will. Not because of my supernatural status, but because I have chosen to count you as a friend. That alone should mark the worthiness of my cause against Grishnakhal's."
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Re: The Zen and Fury in Healing

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Marius was not completely convinced, though, as his skeptical expression showed. "Great, I'm to count on a starry-eyed idealist and pacifist to protect me from that vengeful prick?" Contempt and sarcasm dripped from every word, and for once he was in agreement with the Noise. "Grishnakhal will care not for your high-minded ideals, you know. He'll use it as a weakness, even, exploit it for every inch of ground he can wring from it. Laws and papers and pens are powerful, true... but only in the right arenas."

Again he spread his hands, conjured an image of Grish. It silently laughed at all of them, snapped a pen in half with his fingers as he ordered the executions of Herbert and all their allies with wide, sweeping gestures. "There is no question that he or others will perceive your refusal to act in Pride's name, and move against you whether openly or covertly. If they aren't already! Although in his case he may seek to remove me first; I dealt him a heinous blow when I collapsed his Keep down on his head, and I doubt he'll tolerate that Shame for much longer."

As he spoke, in plain words this time, the illusory tormentor beheaded the illusory vampire and incinerated the body personally, and his illusory minions tore into the illusory assortment of friends and associates. And, once again, he claimed Pride's mantle for himself. "Perhaps you hope to lay in wait? Let him strangle himself on the rope of Laws so you can make a grand show of his indictment and prosecution? No doubt you'd have better luck there, but what of his crimes and schemes in the meantime? What of the innocents that must die by his fury before the authorities deign to attempt to bring him before you? Would you truly sit back and allow him to carry on like this?"

The illusions faded as he lowered his hands again. "Or perhaps you expect us to fight for you. To champion your justice, take the blows and wounds your ego and ideals keep you from shouldering? We certainly would, to be sure, but you know as well as I do the power there is in being seen to personally standing against the enemy. And the PR value of the cowardly generals, away from the front lines, ordering their forces about through remote orders and algorithmic strategies. Are you the cowardly general, then?

"And even when you have him before a court of law, what of the defense? The judge, the jury? You cannot control them all. Righteousness means very little in a courtroom, what matters more are the obscure precedents and passages one can massage to say what one wants them to. And if you lose? Hm? If your laws and papers and pens prove weaker than his? Will you shake your head and hope to be better prepared next time, with new crimes and deaths and schemes and evidence to present?"

Clearly he thought Herbert had put himself in an impossible situation, with his ideals on one hand and reality on the other. But he wanted Herb to arrive at that conclusion for himself, rather than have it spoon fed to him.
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