M
Monochrome
Guest
Original poster
Jace took his time meandering toward the living quarters of the castle; he had been to the castle the day before and left them there, going back to town for the rest of the day and night to take care of somethings before returning with that idiot Axel. In the trunk he kept at the foot of the bed were his prized twin axes. He loved those weapons with a passion -- his mother left them to him, saying that they belonged to his father. It didn't matter who they belonged to. The fact that they were the last things his mother handed to him before she disappeared mattered enough.
The gray eyed young man ascended two flights of stairs and made a left. His room was pretty much bare, not having many of his personal things around. Living like he had for most of his life, he was taught never to get comfortable in one place. This was where he was going to be for an indefinite amount of time; however he'd end up living by that rule anyway.
Opening the door to the sparsely decorated room, he closed and locked it behind him, making his way to the large window and sitting in it. The room actually overlooked the range. Idly, he let his eyes travel until it settled on Axel. The other was a puzzle. For a socially inept fool, he was rather good with aiming and non too shabby with hand to hand. His reason for becoming a hero were still unknown, not that it really mattered.
Jace watched as the shooter aim and let of a particularly loud shot. It didn't sound like the Gatling nor the cannon. This was a different weapon.
The light smoke left behind by a destroyed dummy drew his attention to it, and then another three. One shot completely destroyed four of them. What kind of bullets was he even using? And the guns themselves. They seemed regular but something about the way Axel handled them was odd. He held them as if they were extensions of himself -- as if they were his entire arm.
But that was preposterous.
Jace shook his head and moved away from the window, moving to the foot of the bed and opening the trunk which sat there. Rummaging beneath the clothes, gloves and boots, he pulled out his axes. The weight was comfortable in his hands. The twenty year old swung them around, twirling one around his fingers and sliced the air in a well-practiced motion. Like Axel, which was probably the only similarity they had, he was taught to fight by his mother. Predominantly, in any case. His father had taught him a thing or two. But he guessed he hadn't really held true to the form because while it excelled on the streets, it failed in the guild.
And another thing: Gauss did look a lot like him-- or he looked a lot like Gauss for that matter. They did say that it was rare for one to meet his or her doppelganger in life. He'd possibly be one of the luckier ones.
Finishing the exercise with his axes, he laid them at the bottom of the trunk, piled his belongings on top, and closed it. It was well into the afternoon, almost evening.
Another shot rang out into the air, but he ignored it, idly wondering if there was a library somewhere in the castle that he could peruse. It couldn't do to sit around doing nothing. And knowing his form was off, practicing was out; what was the point in doing something wrong repeatedly?
With that in mind, Jace left his room and ventured out into the hall. Looking down the hall at the sound of a distressed voice, he raised a brow. Another guy seemed to be reprimanding someone much taller than he. It nearly seemed to him that the taller of the two looked like a kicked puppy. The scene made him snort out a bit of laughter. It reminded him so much of his mother when she would scold a man three times her size -- the man usually left with his tail between his legs.
Jace let out a low chuckle and shook his head before turning to leave. He really missed that woman.
The gray eyed young man ascended two flights of stairs and made a left. His room was pretty much bare, not having many of his personal things around. Living like he had for most of his life, he was taught never to get comfortable in one place. This was where he was going to be for an indefinite amount of time; however he'd end up living by that rule anyway.
Opening the door to the sparsely decorated room, he closed and locked it behind him, making his way to the large window and sitting in it. The room actually overlooked the range. Idly, he let his eyes travel until it settled on Axel. The other was a puzzle. For a socially inept fool, he was rather good with aiming and non too shabby with hand to hand. His reason for becoming a hero were still unknown, not that it really mattered.
Jace watched as the shooter aim and let of a particularly loud shot. It didn't sound like the Gatling nor the cannon. This was a different weapon.
The light smoke left behind by a destroyed dummy drew his attention to it, and then another three. One shot completely destroyed four of them. What kind of bullets was he even using? And the guns themselves. They seemed regular but something about the way Axel handled them was odd. He held them as if they were extensions of himself -- as if they were his entire arm.
But that was preposterous.
Jace shook his head and moved away from the window, moving to the foot of the bed and opening the trunk which sat there. Rummaging beneath the clothes, gloves and boots, he pulled out his axes. The weight was comfortable in his hands. The twenty year old swung them around, twirling one around his fingers and sliced the air in a well-practiced motion. Like Axel, which was probably the only similarity they had, he was taught to fight by his mother. Predominantly, in any case. His father had taught him a thing or two. But he guessed he hadn't really held true to the form because while it excelled on the streets, it failed in the guild.
And another thing: Gauss did look a lot like him-- or he looked a lot like Gauss for that matter. They did say that it was rare for one to meet his or her doppelganger in life. He'd possibly be one of the luckier ones.
Finishing the exercise with his axes, he laid them at the bottom of the trunk, piled his belongings on top, and closed it. It was well into the afternoon, almost evening.
Another shot rang out into the air, but he ignored it, idly wondering if there was a library somewhere in the castle that he could peruse. It couldn't do to sit around doing nothing. And knowing his form was off, practicing was out; what was the point in doing something wrong repeatedly?
With that in mind, Jace left his room and ventured out into the hall. Looking down the hall at the sound of a distressed voice, he raised a brow. Another guy seemed to be reprimanding someone much taller than he. It nearly seemed to him that the taller of the two looked like a kicked puppy. The scene made him snort out a bit of laughter. It reminded him so much of his mother when she would scold a man three times her size -- the man usually left with his tail between his legs.
Jace let out a low chuckle and shook his head before turning to leave. He really missed that woman.
