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Roku <3Citizen
Ryo : 2000
Why? (Training)
Mon Aug 28, 2017 1:14 am
On the off moments, between starving and eating and training and resting, Roku had taken to musing philosophically; it was a rather difficult task at times, given any lack of formal education in the matter, but with a large amount of free time and quite possibly the most versatile job schedule possible, as well as a rather unique set of circumstances and beliefs, it was a surprisingly fun recreational activity. At the present moment, he had yet to attempt to contemplate any meaning to life and was instead taking an enthusiastic midnight walk while thinking of what to train next. Abruptly, he stopped and commenced a simple workout comprised of pushups, situps, pullups, and running. It would provide him time to think, and the two topics running in his brain were what exactly to train and the sentience of creatures. The matter of the former was leaning towards ventriloquism, which was simply a useful skill that he had known ninja could use. It was also the last jutsu that he knew how to perform from memory, at least in a perfect fashion. But it was simple, as simple as a game he played with his mother as a child. Every rep, regardless of the exercise, he attributed a sentence, or a fragment of a sentence if it were too long, and that was how he sought to train not only his jutsu but also his body and his philosophy, which would eventually shape itself into his code of morals and beliefs. A peculiar idea, but the boy had already decided that he would need to form such a thing to continue living as well as to determine a good course of action when navigating life. If there was any such thing as a good course. Roku’s first burst of deeper thought came then, and he began speaking aloud plainly at first. “What would even be considered a good path through life? Without many helpful bits of worldly knowledge, I have no idea. But what does that leave to do?” Now, his voice slowly began moving closer to the ground than his lips, slowly but steadily between pushups.
“You could stop, give up because there is no decent reason to try and do anything. I would have to say all I do is try to find out what to do. Maybe all life is supposed to be is that, trying to find out what to do over and over again until we either screw it up too bad and die or die trying not to screw it up.” The talkative trainee flipped onto his back, looking up at the plain azure sky with squinted eyes. He was somewhat sensitive to the light, even if the sun wasn’t in view, and his ever helpful shades had been shifted to his forehead. “And finding purpose in doing.” Ventriloquism was hard to get the hang of, the precision of it was difficult to grasp. And imitating voices was also a helpful but foreign practice, yet it was almost therapeutic with its assistance to thinking in different ways. Being alone turned into having a discussion with oneself. With a quick leap, his pack was abandoned and pull-ups had begun. In between reps, he would speak his musings. “So what do people do to find that purpose? Most do jobs, take care of their family or get money. And that still leaves me alone in the woods with none of these things, but a purpose where there wasn’t one before. From nothing but existing. I’m not much of a fan of existing to wonder to find purpose in wondering. I’ll have to find a better reason to be and something more to pursue, but I doubt that’s anywhere near now.” Living was essential to find something more, so it would continue. His existence was not, in fact, the worst that anyone had been in, which was a conclusion that crossed Roku’s mind multiple times a day. Ventriloquism was becoming easier, and with every extension of his arms Roku would count off a number with a different voice, starting with his own. Harsh voices, a drunk butcher, a gruff ninja from Mist, and an old man with too much hate for his own heart. They were all three people Roku had “known” at one point or another, people whom he had seen regularly for some period. The first three voices strained his throat a bit, as though he had swallowed a pinch of sand. The next three were softer, a little girl and her grandmother as well as a rather kind hearted male nurse he had once had brief interactions with. The ninth he tried was his father, a hybrid of the carefully chosen first three, and the tenth was his mother who had introduced this little scheme to drive home the memory of a jutsu for distraction. It was peculiar to hear them speaking after such a long time, and not exactly pleasant to know it was him. Their true voices spoken by their own minds only existed buried in memory, and would never reach his ears again. Sadness panged at the orphan’s heart, a feeling hysterical enough to cause real, physical pain in his chest. A thud and a grunt followed by a groan sounded that the distraction caused his grip to fail. Roku sat, his arms pulsing and twisting just under his skin for a moment, and his face a solemn expression of contemplation that hid his rage and self-loathing.
That moment was left behind, and the child had commenced a hunt. It was not unusual for him to catch his own food, though normally it was through the occasional trap. Now, there was a smoky blur crisscrossing the treetops, in short, silent bursts. After he had taken a minute to contain the vortex that was his emotional status, he had taken off into the woods, too angry to keep quiet. Though it took a very short time to find himself on the trail of some deer, they ran off in fear before they were even in sight. Gone too far to bother tracking. Roku wanted to kill something, not just chase it, and he would not be hauling a full buck back to his little camp. But there were squirrels; they had also kept retreating from him, but some were always in sight, skittering behind trees and leaping between branches. They would serve as prey. The boy, an ominous ombre monochromatic and menacing, stopped moving. A gray rodent had scurried onto a branch not ten feet in front of him, beady eyes still and staring into the jet lenses that were impartially pointed back. At that point, a state of serenity was reached, as thoughts flowed freely out of the boy’s mind and he was both full of emotion and empty of it. Frozen, for an instant, before reverting to a primal, angry, but strangely calm mindset. One pale arm shot out, and from it came three tendrils. The squirrel had hardly registered it was coming and had only just started to run away when its midsection was penetrated. The weapons of the poor vermin’s demise shot back to their owner, letting their prey drop with a dull thump to the forest floor below. The ending of a life was simple, and that applied to all life. Some were just better at living. Predatory instinct, the monster that he had been bred to become, that was something to take solace in. The training of the day had ceased, it was rather minor but something at the very least. And that made it time to move, for what few hours were left. This place had been his dwelling for over 40 hours and that was the usual limit.
After the site had almost any trace of him wiped away, Roku started jogging. A walk was more appropriate for the longer distance travel he expected, but the movement would help him clear his mind and make up for his lack of vigor in exercise. It could not take too much longer. The more he ran, the more the concept turned itself over and over in his mind, it became clear that he could not go on without purpose for very much longer. It was a nagging, tugging feeling everywhere in his head at once, like a scream that couldn’t quite get through his skull. Whether it was because of his age, his isolation, his heritage, or some evil mixture of them, he had to find something.
WC: 1424
Claiming Ventriloquism and 7 stat points
“You could stop, give up because there is no decent reason to try and do anything. I would have to say all I do is try to find out what to do. Maybe all life is supposed to be is that, trying to find out what to do over and over again until we either screw it up too bad and die or die trying not to screw it up.” The talkative trainee flipped onto his back, looking up at the plain azure sky with squinted eyes. He was somewhat sensitive to the light, even if the sun wasn’t in view, and his ever helpful shades had been shifted to his forehead. “And finding purpose in doing.” Ventriloquism was hard to get the hang of, the precision of it was difficult to grasp. And imitating voices was also a helpful but foreign practice, yet it was almost therapeutic with its assistance to thinking in different ways. Being alone turned into having a discussion with oneself. With a quick leap, his pack was abandoned and pull-ups had begun. In between reps, he would speak his musings. “So what do people do to find that purpose? Most do jobs, take care of their family or get money. And that still leaves me alone in the woods with none of these things, but a purpose where there wasn’t one before. From nothing but existing. I’m not much of a fan of existing to wonder to find purpose in wondering. I’ll have to find a better reason to be and something more to pursue, but I doubt that’s anywhere near now.” Living was essential to find something more, so it would continue. His existence was not, in fact, the worst that anyone had been in, which was a conclusion that crossed Roku’s mind multiple times a day. Ventriloquism was becoming easier, and with every extension of his arms Roku would count off a number with a different voice, starting with his own. Harsh voices, a drunk butcher, a gruff ninja from Mist, and an old man with too much hate for his own heart. They were all three people Roku had “known” at one point or another, people whom he had seen regularly for some period. The first three voices strained his throat a bit, as though he had swallowed a pinch of sand. The next three were softer, a little girl and her grandmother as well as a rather kind hearted male nurse he had once had brief interactions with. The ninth he tried was his father, a hybrid of the carefully chosen first three, and the tenth was his mother who had introduced this little scheme to drive home the memory of a jutsu for distraction. It was peculiar to hear them speaking after such a long time, and not exactly pleasant to know it was him. Their true voices spoken by their own minds only existed buried in memory, and would never reach his ears again. Sadness panged at the orphan’s heart, a feeling hysterical enough to cause real, physical pain in his chest. A thud and a grunt followed by a groan sounded that the distraction caused his grip to fail. Roku sat, his arms pulsing and twisting just under his skin for a moment, and his face a solemn expression of contemplation that hid his rage and self-loathing.
That moment was left behind, and the child had commenced a hunt. It was not unusual for him to catch his own food, though normally it was through the occasional trap. Now, there was a smoky blur crisscrossing the treetops, in short, silent bursts. After he had taken a minute to contain the vortex that was his emotional status, he had taken off into the woods, too angry to keep quiet. Though it took a very short time to find himself on the trail of some deer, they ran off in fear before they were even in sight. Gone too far to bother tracking. Roku wanted to kill something, not just chase it, and he would not be hauling a full buck back to his little camp. But there were squirrels; they had also kept retreating from him, but some were always in sight, skittering behind trees and leaping between branches. They would serve as prey. The boy, an ominous ombre monochromatic and menacing, stopped moving. A gray rodent had scurried onto a branch not ten feet in front of him, beady eyes still and staring into the jet lenses that were impartially pointed back. At that point, a state of serenity was reached, as thoughts flowed freely out of the boy’s mind and he was both full of emotion and empty of it. Frozen, for an instant, before reverting to a primal, angry, but strangely calm mindset. One pale arm shot out, and from it came three tendrils. The squirrel had hardly registered it was coming and had only just started to run away when its midsection was penetrated. The weapons of the poor vermin’s demise shot back to their owner, letting their prey drop with a dull thump to the forest floor below. The ending of a life was simple, and that applied to all life. Some were just better at living. Predatory instinct, the monster that he had been bred to become, that was something to take solace in. The training of the day had ceased, it was rather minor but something at the very least. And that made it time to move, for what few hours were left. This place had been his dwelling for over 40 hours and that was the usual limit.
After the site had almost any trace of him wiped away, Roku started jogging. A walk was more appropriate for the longer distance travel he expected, but the movement would help him clear his mind and make up for his lack of vigor in exercise. It could not take too much longer. The more he ran, the more the concept turned itself over and over in his mind, it became clear that he could not go on without purpose for very much longer. It was a nagging, tugging feeling everywhere in his head at once, like a scream that couldn’t quite get through his skull. Whether it was because of his age, his isolation, his heritage, or some evil mixture of them, he had to find something.
WC: 1424
Claiming Ventriloquism and 7 stat points
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