"Kartikeya...the Hindu God of War," Akane nods slowly as she logs in the persona's detail. "It sure fits the bill of the Star Arcana."
Even still, she was a bit nervous as she holds out her hands before grasping the Naginata in her pale bare hands. She turned the weapon over, a little awe-struck. But holding it was another story entirely.
Despite its lightness, the weight distribution threw her off, and she wobbled for a second as her systems scrambled to compensate. Her joints tensed as internal calibration kicked in—what was muscle memory for a human came with a million calculations for someone like her.
“From what I’m reading right now,” Akane mused aloud, scanning through data in real time, “his origins involve fusing six fetuses into one body through Parvati’s Tantric powers, so… I guess fusion is in his nature. Maybe even into weapons.” It was an easy observation but rooted in the odd rules of cognition that human belief shaped.
Akane cautiously twirled the naginata in her hands, the blade spinning like a lazy windmill. She grinned—until she nearly lost control. The weapon clattered against the floor, the sharp clang bouncing off the walls of the Velvet Room.
Akane’s eyes locked onto the peacock feathers as she snatched it back with a fierce determination. There was no way she was going to embarrass herself in front of Hamuko-sensei!
“Hyah!” she cried, pivoting on her heel as she spun the naginata in a swift arc, stopping with its blade mere inches from Zenkichi’s neck with the grace of someone who was just copying action movies.
Zenkichi’s lips twitched at the edges, barely restraining a smile. His brow quirked, and he remained perfectly still, unfazed.
“Can’t kill me at that spot, remember?” he said, his tone dry but amused. “Also—watch your energy levels, Akane. Don’t overclock yourself.”
“Yeah, yeah...” Akane muttered, but her determination remained. She lowered the naginata carefully, not wanting to show the slightest tremble in her grip. “But I’m still going to show Hamuko-san the trick with the knife. You should show off your sword too!”
Zenkichi’s neutral expression shifted to one of mild horror. “Whoa—no. I’m not waving my sword around like some kind of kid in gym class-!"
no subject
Even still, she was a bit nervous as she holds out her hands before grasping the Naginata in her pale bare hands. She turned the weapon over, a little awe-struck. But holding it was another story entirely.
Despite its lightness, the weight distribution threw her off, and she wobbled for a second as her systems scrambled to compensate. Her joints tensed as internal calibration kicked in—what was muscle memory for a human came with a million calculations for someone like her.
“From what I’m reading right now,” Akane mused aloud, scanning through data in real time, “his origins involve fusing six fetuses into one body through Parvati’s Tantric powers, so… I guess fusion is in his nature. Maybe even into weapons.” It was an easy observation but rooted in the odd rules of cognition that human belief shaped.
Akane cautiously twirled the naginata in her hands, the blade spinning like a lazy windmill. She grinned—until she nearly lost control. The weapon clattered against the floor, the sharp clang bouncing off the walls of the Velvet Room.
Akane’s eyes locked onto the peacock feathers as she snatched it back with a fierce determination. There was no way she was going to embarrass herself in front of Hamuko-sensei!
“Hyah!” she cried, pivoting on her heel as she spun the naginata in a swift arc, stopping with its blade mere inches from Zenkichi’s neck with the grace of someone who was just copying action movies.
Zenkichi’s lips twitched at the edges, barely restraining a smile. His brow quirked, and he remained perfectly still, unfazed.
“Can’t kill me at that spot, remember?” he said, his tone dry but amused. “Also—watch your energy levels, Akane. Don’t overclock yourself.”
Zenkichi’s neutral expression shifted to one of mild horror. “Whoa—no. I’m not waving my sword around like some kind of kid in gym class-!"