[ It is much, much easier to command Azathoth than the previous battle.
Obviously. It is only training, after all. Maruki isn't juggling fear for his own life, fear for Night Sky's, supporting an ally, dodging not only the Knight but his minions and his complete control of their terrain. He can focus solely on Azathoth's attacks and when to heal, until he's told not to.
But a significant portion of this fortified sense of guidance must also be chalked up to the special brand of practice forged in a trial by fire – adapt or perish, learn or cede control. Azathoth is strong because you are, not the other way around, circling endlessly in the moments that he had to spare for conscious thought. Part of what Akechi is experiencing, he helped to cause. It's poetic, really.
Which is to say, this really doesn't take much effort on Maruki's part. He stands aside Azathoth, munching on his spaghetti, enjoying the thrill of making sense of the primordial chaos pounding in his temples with most of his mind and thinking back on the aftermath of the battle with a smaller part. The attacks batter Akechi; he doesn't stop demanding more.
Until he does.
When the Tentacle of Healing has finished its work, Maruki silently recalls Azathoth – a sensation seeping down the back of his head almost like a warm hum of contentment – and crosses over to crouch next to Akechi, prone on the grass. ]
I'm as surprised as you are. Who knows? Maybe if it hadn't been my friend brainwashed, and instead someone else entirely, I wouldn't have discovered all of this.
[ While it's said somewhat lightly, it's not a jest. Maruki's fury would not have been the same if this had happened to another dreamer he wasn't close with. One to whom he never promised safety from their cognitions. ]
no subject
Obviously. It is only training, after all. Maruki isn't juggling fear for his own life, fear for Night Sky's, supporting an ally, dodging not only the Knight but his minions and his complete control of their terrain. He can focus solely on Azathoth's attacks and when to heal, until he's told not to.
But a significant portion of this fortified sense of guidance must also be chalked up to the special brand of practice forged in a trial by fire – adapt or perish, learn or cede control. Azathoth is strong because you are, not the other way around, circling endlessly in the moments that he had to spare for conscious thought. Part of what Akechi is experiencing, he helped to cause. It's poetic, really.
Which is to say, this really doesn't take much effort on Maruki's part. He stands aside Azathoth, munching on his spaghetti, enjoying the thrill of making sense of the primordial chaos pounding in his temples with most of his mind and thinking back on the aftermath of the battle with a smaller part. The attacks batter Akechi; he doesn't stop demanding more.
Until he does.
When the Tentacle of Healing has finished its work, Maruki silently recalls Azathoth – a sensation seeping down the back of his head almost like a warm hum of contentment – and crosses over to crouch next to Akechi, prone on the grass. ]
I'm as surprised as you are. Who knows? Maybe if it hadn't been my friend brainwashed, and instead someone else entirely, I wouldn't have discovered all of this.
[ While it's said somewhat lightly, it's not a jest. Maruki's fury would not have been the same if this had happened to another dreamer he wasn't close with. One to whom he never promised safety from their cognitions. ]
You look as exhausted as I feel.