Post by Geno Garon on Jan 25, 2012 11:23:04 GMT -5
The chilly morning air turned a puff of breathe into a gentle cloud. Geno studied it for the brief moment it took to fade. Barometric pressure and the dew point, working in tandem, had blanketed Death City with thick fog in its lower reaches, and even at street level in higher level buildings. Of course, Shibusen's mighty towers, skulls, and candles rose from the billowing clouds, giving the odd appearance that it was, in fact, a floating castle. Of course, with the sun just rising, the fog would soon fade.
"Doesn't matter. It's here now. Perfect excuse not to fail."
Geno stood, on the edge of one of the peaked roves in the upper district of Death City. Standing above the fog, he thought back to just a few weeks ago. He had been in Shibusen itself, masquerading. Literally. Shibusen had held a Masquerade Ball for its students, and one of the faculty he had met had been generous enough to slip him a ticket and get him inside. It had been a short evening, but Geno's thoughts were not on the drinking or dancing. Instead, he recalled his flighty exit, leaping from the balcony onto one of the many spikes jutting from the school, then to a vertical flagpole, and then finally onto an awning, and down to the street below. All without a single hitch. At the time, he had merely considered himself lucky, but after returning and visually retracing his voyage, Geno had no doubt; what he had done was humanly impossible.
By which to say, it was superhuman.
Geno's thoughts traced back to Nova. Her discussion with him had come up a lot lately in his thoughts, and it had provided him with immense insight into his new-found life. If regular-looking people could turn themselves into weapons, and have other people wield them, the wielders... the, erm... meisters, would very likely also have their own set of extra-ordinary abilities. Geno had even seen what he had thought to be human beings, shooting through the sky, jumping incredible lengths at amazing speeds.
So, why not him, right?
Geno had already been clued in that he might have this potential. His trip down the side of Shibusen couldn't have been anything else. And so, now, he had to trust that his theory was correct, and move on to the next step in any theory: field testing. He peered over the ledge of the Spanish-brick tower upon which he stood. There was a flat roof not too far away, and not too far down. If he was wrong, and had no special ability, the most that he would do was shatter both of his legs.
"Well... nothing ventured, nothing gained..."
Geno shifted his weight onto his rear leg. He didn't have any room for a running start, but he didn't much need it. He had enough distance that, judging correctly, he'd have a foot of room between his landing spot and the ledge of the roof. Plenty of space. As he shifted forward, and he pushed off with his foreleg, Geno's heart fluttered, in excitement and fright.
And then he took off.
Before Geno could blink, he had jumped over 40 feet higher than the tip of the tower's roof. Too high... The young man flailed in the air in a panic as he crested his jump, and began his gravity-fed plunge. He had gone far too far, the flat roof was disappearing underneath him, and he was nearing the opposite end rather rapidly. Uncertain if he would hit the edge, Geno instinctively extended his right leg fully, hoping to catch the roof. Catch it he did, with mere inches to spare, and though he hit the roof going near-terminal velocity, as he dropped to one knee, Geno did not hear the distinct snap of bone, nor feel any pain. Almost as if his landing had been cushioned just as much as his jump had been enhanced.
For a moment, Geno remained motionless, as his white trenchcoat tails flapped slowly down behind him. He remained still, attempting to determine if he'd merely not felt any injury the moment of impact. Nothing came. No sharp stabs. No weakness. It was as if he had merely stood up from sitting on a chair. A smile slowly spread across the young man's face, as he felt the euphoria of a base jumper, the rush of a skydiver.
More...
In one fluid motion, Geno pushed off with his right leg, not even bothering to stand from his kneeling position. His coattails whistled and flapped angrily behind him as he shot up and away from the buildings, his body illuminated in gold by the slowly rising sun. He descended, landed gracefully on the very tip of another conical roof, and leapt again, disturbing only a single shingle from the very top.
The sensation was amazing. It was as close to flying as one could get without wings, yet it felt just as powerful and freeing. As Geno continued his journey, more vertical than horizontal, he practiced distance, height, and speed control, but found that there was little need. It was as if he had been doing this for years.
And yet, he was enjoying it, as if it were the first time.
"Doesn't matter. It's here now. Perfect excuse not to fail."
Geno stood, on the edge of one of the peaked roves in the upper district of Death City. Standing above the fog, he thought back to just a few weeks ago. He had been in Shibusen itself, masquerading. Literally. Shibusen had held a Masquerade Ball for its students, and one of the faculty he had met had been generous enough to slip him a ticket and get him inside. It had been a short evening, but Geno's thoughts were not on the drinking or dancing. Instead, he recalled his flighty exit, leaping from the balcony onto one of the many spikes jutting from the school, then to a vertical flagpole, and then finally onto an awning, and down to the street below. All without a single hitch. At the time, he had merely considered himself lucky, but after returning and visually retracing his voyage, Geno had no doubt; what he had done was humanly impossible.
By which to say, it was superhuman.
Geno's thoughts traced back to Nova. Her discussion with him had come up a lot lately in his thoughts, and it had provided him with immense insight into his new-found life. If regular-looking people could turn themselves into weapons, and have other people wield them, the wielders... the, erm... meisters, would very likely also have their own set of extra-ordinary abilities. Geno had even seen what he had thought to be human beings, shooting through the sky, jumping incredible lengths at amazing speeds.
So, why not him, right?
Geno had already been clued in that he might have this potential. His trip down the side of Shibusen couldn't have been anything else. And so, now, he had to trust that his theory was correct, and move on to the next step in any theory: field testing. He peered over the ledge of the Spanish-brick tower upon which he stood. There was a flat roof not too far away, and not too far down. If he was wrong, and had no special ability, the most that he would do was shatter both of his legs.
"Well... nothing ventured, nothing gained..."
Geno shifted his weight onto his rear leg. He didn't have any room for a running start, but he didn't much need it. He had enough distance that, judging correctly, he'd have a foot of room between his landing spot and the ledge of the roof. Plenty of space. As he shifted forward, and he pushed off with his foreleg, Geno's heart fluttered, in excitement and fright.
And then he took off.
Before Geno could blink, he had jumped over 40 feet higher than the tip of the tower's roof. Too high... The young man flailed in the air in a panic as he crested his jump, and began his gravity-fed plunge. He had gone far too far, the flat roof was disappearing underneath him, and he was nearing the opposite end rather rapidly. Uncertain if he would hit the edge, Geno instinctively extended his right leg fully, hoping to catch the roof. Catch it he did, with mere inches to spare, and though he hit the roof going near-terminal velocity, as he dropped to one knee, Geno did not hear the distinct snap of bone, nor feel any pain. Almost as if his landing had been cushioned just as much as his jump had been enhanced.
For a moment, Geno remained motionless, as his white trenchcoat tails flapped slowly down behind him. He remained still, attempting to determine if he'd merely not felt any injury the moment of impact. Nothing came. No sharp stabs. No weakness. It was as if he had merely stood up from sitting on a chair. A smile slowly spread across the young man's face, as he felt the euphoria of a base jumper, the rush of a skydiver.
More...
In one fluid motion, Geno pushed off with his right leg, not even bothering to stand from his kneeling position. His coattails whistled and flapped angrily behind him as he shot up and away from the buildings, his body illuminated in gold by the slowly rising sun. He descended, landed gracefully on the very tip of another conical roof, and leapt again, disturbing only a single shingle from the very top.
The sensation was amazing. It was as close to flying as one could get without wings, yet it felt just as powerful and freeing. As Geno continued his journey, more vertical than horizontal, he practiced distance, height, and speed control, but found that there was little need. It was as if he had been doing this for years.
And yet, he was enjoying it, as if it were the first time.