Timestamp: 80th Day of Summer, 513 AV
Walking through the wooden doors cast a strange sensation of deja vu onto Ollic. He had been here before, just days before the fight simply to order a meal on his first day in Lhavit. And now he was back, but for more aggressive and determined reasons; these reasons had become far too personal to over think.
He was tired of always being the scrawny weakling every often abused, constantly using him as though he were a broken toy no one wanted. He was fed up with having his feeling messed around with, so he resorted to talking to his imaginary friends.
It was either you were too smart or too dumb, Ollic often being the former, which gave a pent-up rage towards him from the kids he grew up around. It wasn't just because he was anti-social that he didn't have any friends. For some odd reason he just found himself being simply an unlikable person, and this impression that had been branded into him from the start had everybody thinking that he was weak and useless, a waste of space.
Books were his best friend all throughout his childhood and continuing into his adolescents. The characters within the stories were people Ollic could often relate to what with their constant conflicts and emotional issues. It made him feel less alone in the world knowing that people out there, real or not, were going with the same troubles he was.
And now Ollic was about to prove all those who had ever misjudged him wrong. He was going to show all those who had taken him for granted, all those who hurt him emotionally or physically that he was capable of so much more. As he headed for those wooden stairs to the right upon entering the building, he was determined to let his stored potential shine into the eyes of all his foes.
The stairs creaked uncomfortably underneath his weight, giving him the impression that they had been here for many years, now recently rotting from old age. Once he hit the bottom step, a new feeling evaded his sense of self-respect and comfort.
The room was large, the flooring padded as to prevent people from falling down and hurting themselves or from shattering their skulls and damaging their cerebellum. It was abnormally painted, the colour scheme reflecting off of the unrecognisable feeling it gave off.
No one was in the room with him, he noticed. Disappointment soon settled into his heart as he over thought why. Perhaps they were closed, Ollic thought. He probably was either too early for them to be open or too late to have made it before they closed. He had never checked their business hours, only their class prices.
Then as if by reading his mind, a shadow stepped into his line of view, black being nearly the only shade the being wore, a dark mask covering up its facial features.
Startled, Ollic drew back, nearly tripping on the stairs he had just recently descended. The figure stuck out a hand to steady Ollic's balance. He still could not recognize any details to the figure's identity or even gender for that matter, no matter how close they had just become, and the eeriness was becoming an obsession for him. His orbital-frontal cortex was constantly sending unimportant messages to his thalamus, which gave him his compulsions and at this exact moment in time, it was acting up.
The figure didn't say anything for quite some time and neither did Ollic. He was never the one to speak first and usually remained silent in his shy and reclusive way. He was never the first one to talk, let alone lose a match of silence to another opponent.
"What do you seek?" asked the silhouette finally, a deep voice emerging from its throat. It was most likely a man Ollic was facing and that much information relinquished his quandary.
Control, Ollic was about to reply to the stranger whom had still kept himself shrouded in darkness. But was control the thing he really wanted to learn? After giving it some thought, Ollic tried a more decent and less sinful approach; a definite answer he hoped would be pleasing to hear.
"I seek defense, a sense of self control and solitude," he told him, his head lifted up in pride, hoping his actions didn't portray him as the kind to be ornery.
The words that left his lips felt foreign to him. Was that really him speaking? No unnecessary large gulps of air? No shakes or tremors of anxiety? No stutters or sweaty palms? Perhaps this desperation to become better at defending himself was not only good for him but for his social attributes as well. However, Ollic didn't mentally applaud himself like he would normally find himself doing; instead he just stood and stared at the man in front of him, the stanger’s hand still on top of Ollic's bony shoulder.
"And is this enlightenment for educational purposes or for self-worth?”
These questions that were thrown at him were more difficult to answer than the Vantha had ever imagined and he had never imagined answering any questions at all! He had just thought that upon arriving, his master would jump right into training him, he had never thought that they would stand around and converse about personal self-worth and why he wanted to learn about how to fight.
But Ollic had his answer already prompt and ready to go. "I want to be able to protect not only myself from danger but of those who are dear to me."
His response must have been a respectable one because the anonymous figure let go of his tense hold that had moved from Ollic’s shoulder to his collar. He then waved for him to follow onto the fabricated mat.
Walking through the wooden doors cast a strange sensation of deja vu onto Ollic. He had been here before, just days before the fight simply to order a meal on his first day in Lhavit. And now he was back, but for more aggressive and determined reasons; these reasons had become far too personal to over think.
He was tired of always being the scrawny weakling every often abused, constantly using him as though he were a broken toy no one wanted. He was fed up with having his feeling messed around with, so he resorted to talking to his imaginary friends.
It was either you were too smart or too dumb, Ollic often being the former, which gave a pent-up rage towards him from the kids he grew up around. It wasn't just because he was anti-social that he didn't have any friends. For some odd reason he just found himself being simply an unlikable person, and this impression that had been branded into him from the start had everybody thinking that he was weak and useless, a waste of space.
Books were his best friend all throughout his childhood and continuing into his adolescents. The characters within the stories were people Ollic could often relate to what with their constant conflicts and emotional issues. It made him feel less alone in the world knowing that people out there, real or not, were going with the same troubles he was.
And now Ollic was about to prove all those who had ever misjudged him wrong. He was going to show all those who had taken him for granted, all those who hurt him emotionally or physically that he was capable of so much more. As he headed for those wooden stairs to the right upon entering the building, he was determined to let his stored potential shine into the eyes of all his foes.
The stairs creaked uncomfortably underneath his weight, giving him the impression that they had been here for many years, now recently rotting from old age. Once he hit the bottom step, a new feeling evaded his sense of self-respect and comfort.
The room was large, the flooring padded as to prevent people from falling down and hurting themselves or from shattering their skulls and damaging their cerebellum. It was abnormally painted, the colour scheme reflecting off of the unrecognisable feeling it gave off.
No one was in the room with him, he noticed. Disappointment soon settled into his heart as he over thought why. Perhaps they were closed, Ollic thought. He probably was either too early for them to be open or too late to have made it before they closed. He had never checked their business hours, only their class prices.
Then as if by reading his mind, a shadow stepped into his line of view, black being nearly the only shade the being wore, a dark mask covering up its facial features.
Startled, Ollic drew back, nearly tripping on the stairs he had just recently descended. The figure stuck out a hand to steady Ollic's balance. He still could not recognize any details to the figure's identity or even gender for that matter, no matter how close they had just become, and the eeriness was becoming an obsession for him. His orbital-frontal cortex was constantly sending unimportant messages to his thalamus, which gave him his compulsions and at this exact moment in time, it was acting up.
The figure didn't say anything for quite some time and neither did Ollic. He was never the one to speak first and usually remained silent in his shy and reclusive way. He was never the first one to talk, let alone lose a match of silence to another opponent.
"What do you seek?" asked the silhouette finally, a deep voice emerging from its throat. It was most likely a man Ollic was facing and that much information relinquished his quandary.
Control, Ollic was about to reply to the stranger whom had still kept himself shrouded in darkness. But was control the thing he really wanted to learn? After giving it some thought, Ollic tried a more decent and less sinful approach; a definite answer he hoped would be pleasing to hear.
"I seek defense, a sense of self control and solitude," he told him, his head lifted up in pride, hoping his actions didn't portray him as the kind to be ornery.
The words that left his lips felt foreign to him. Was that really him speaking? No unnecessary large gulps of air? No shakes or tremors of anxiety? No stutters or sweaty palms? Perhaps this desperation to become better at defending himself was not only good for him but for his social attributes as well. However, Ollic didn't mentally applaud himself like he would normally find himself doing; instead he just stood and stared at the man in front of him, the stanger’s hand still on top of Ollic's bony shoulder.
"And is this enlightenment for educational purposes or for self-worth?”
These questions that were thrown at him were more difficult to answer than the Vantha had ever imagined and he had never imagined answering any questions at all! He had just thought that upon arriving, his master would jump right into training him, he had never thought that they would stand around and converse about personal self-worth and why he wanted to learn about how to fight.
But Ollic had his answer already prompt and ready to go. "I want to be able to protect not only myself from danger but of those who are dear to me."
His response must have been a respectable one because the anonymous figure let go of his tense hold that had moved from Ollic’s shoulder to his collar. He then waved for him to follow onto the fabricated mat.
