I-B If you aren’t good at something, you need to practice it. When you fail, you need to keep practicing. And when that doesn’t work...notes! And more practice. Fuuka had learned that with cooking. If she had learned how to be decent at cooking, surely she could learn how to...control the wind...right?
After finding a quiet place outside, she had spent the last hour trying to bring forth the wind. Waving her hands, calling out (rather nervous might hear her) for its aid, and even attempting a form of meditation. At most, it had tossled her hair and nearly flipped up her skirt. But otherwise...it felt very much like it was not listening to her. More like it was teasing her.
Letting a groan, she fell back onto the grass, staring up at the sky. A breeze swept over her and she sighed, “It doesn’t count if you aren’t going to do what I’m asking…Juno never acted like this…”
Thinking of her persona, a being she had considered like a dear friend, she felt some tears well up. Coming here, she had lost her connection to Juno and all the powers she had given her, in exchange for new powers and items she had no idea how to control. Quickly wiping her eyes, she sat up with a determined look.
“N-no use crying over what can’t be changed…! I’ll just have to go about this differently,” as she stood up, the wind swirled around her, and she laughed a bit. As her laughter trailed off, she glanced around; she was alone here, which is what she had wanted to practice. But when she had learned how to cook...she’d always had someone there. Someone helping her. Encouraging her. Wiping at her face again, she shook her head.
“I...I have to do that for myself now…”
II-C Fuuka shook, hiding behind a large piece of stone that had fallen from the top of the bridge, wishing more then ever she still had her telepathic abilities to sense where people and creatures were. The woman--no, the ghost--had taken Fuuka by surprise when she ventured further onto the bridge. She had been hoping to get an idea of what the damage was; her hobby of building machines might actually be helpful here. Or so she thought.
Holding up a golden apple that served as a light in the storm, she had been greeted by the viage of a pale, ethereal woman mere feet from her. Before she could say anything, the woman had whipped towards her, revealing a monstrous face and a blood-curdling scream. Fuuka had ran, feeling claws at her back. How she had managed to hide behind this stone at all was a miracle.
With trembling hands, she scrambled to hide the glowing apple in her bag, putting a hand over her mouth to mask her labored breathing. Tears began to form, as she attempted to steel herself; she was no help to anyone if she hid like this. But what if she was caught? She was no help dead either. A strangled sob escaped her, just as the rubble she was hiding behind was shifted as someone--or something--moved over it.
‘I can’t be afraid anymore…!’
She thought, even as tears streamed down her face. As whatever came over the top of her hiding spot, she pushed her trembling hands up, a strong gust of wind coming from them, “G-GO AWAY..!!”
III-A3 “O-oh no...I am so...so lost…” Fuuka called out rather loudly as she pushed through the jungle’s underbrush. She had been given the role of Anansi’s puppet, and she had been very enthusiastic at the onset. But traveling in an itchy costume with sticky paper through a thick jungle waiting to get dive bombed by an angry fairy had tempered her excitement. It was great to be doing something good, but it was not quite what she had expected.
Still, she wouldn’t shirk her role! Even if she wished she could see where the person who was playing Anansi. At least then she wouldn’t feel so alone. A slight giggle from up in the treeline made her heart skip a beat.
Fuuka Yamagishi | Persona 3 Portable | Princess (East of the Wind & West of the Moon)
If you aren’t good at something, you need to practice it. When you fail, you need to keep practicing. And when that doesn’t work...notes! And more practice. Fuuka had learned that with cooking. If she had learned how to be decent at cooking, surely she could learn how to...control the wind...right?
After finding a quiet place outside, she had spent the last hour trying to bring forth the wind. Waving her hands, calling out (rather nervous might hear her) for its aid, and even attempting a form of meditation. At most, it had tossled her hair and nearly flipped up her skirt. But otherwise...it felt very much like it was not listening to her. More like it was teasing her.
Letting a groan, she fell back onto the grass, staring up at the sky. A breeze swept over her and she sighed, “It doesn’t count if you aren’t going to do what I’m asking…Juno never acted like this…”
Thinking of her persona, a being she had considered like a dear friend, she felt some tears well up. Coming here, she had lost her connection to Juno and all the powers she had given her, in exchange for new powers and items she had no idea how to control. Quickly wiping her eyes, she sat up with a determined look.
“N-no use crying over what can’t be changed…! I’ll just have to go about this differently,” as she stood up, the wind swirled around her, and she laughed a bit. As her laughter trailed off, she glanced around; she was alone here, which is what she had wanted to practice. But when she had learned how to cook...she’d always had someone there. Someone helping her. Encouraging her. Wiping at her face again, she shook her head.
“I...I have to do that for myself now…”
II-C
Fuuka shook, hiding behind a large piece of stone that had fallen from the top of the bridge, wishing more then ever she still had her telepathic abilities to sense where people and creatures were. The woman--no, the ghost--had taken Fuuka by surprise when she ventured further onto the bridge. She had been hoping to get an idea of what the damage was; her hobby of building machines might actually be helpful here. Or so she thought.
Holding up a golden apple that served as a light in the storm, she had been greeted by the viage of a pale, ethereal woman mere feet from her. Before she could say anything, the woman had whipped towards her, revealing a monstrous face and a blood-curdling scream. Fuuka had ran, feeling claws at her back. How she had managed to hide behind this stone at all was a miracle.
With trembling hands, she scrambled to hide the glowing apple in her bag, putting a hand over her mouth to mask her labored breathing. Tears began to form, as she attempted to steel herself; she was no help to anyone if she hid like this. But what if she was caught? She was no help dead either. A strangled sob escaped her, just as the rubble she was hiding behind was shifted as someone--or something--moved over it.
‘I can’t be afraid anymore…!’
She thought, even as tears streamed down her face. As whatever came over the top of her hiding spot, she pushed her trembling hands up, a strong gust of wind coming from them, “G-GO AWAY..!!”
III-A3
“O-oh no...I am so...so lost…” Fuuka called out rather loudly as she pushed through the jungle’s underbrush. She had been given the role of Anansi’s puppet, and she had been very enthusiastic at the onset. But traveling in an itchy costume with sticky paper through a thick jungle waiting to get dive bombed by an angry fairy had tempered her excitement. It was great to be doing something good, but it was not quite what she had expected.
Still, she wouldn’t shirk her role! Even if she wished she could see where the person who was playing Anansi. At least then she wouldn’t feel so alone. A slight giggle from up in the treeline made her heart skip a beat.
“H-hello…?” she called out, searching the canopy.