Birth of a Librarian: Tutorial Complete [Solo]

When Yuuma had been invited to share a drink with Iazowa Lewa, Yuuma hadn't intended to actually drink anything. If anything, he had expected to sit at the bar and listen when the drunk talked to him about some sort of training gimmick or try to sell him on some manner of trinket or jewelry he had crafted as he had continued to do since the two of them had departed to hospital. Over and over, the old man claimed to be the best jeweler for miles around, even on the continent perhaps. Still, the truth was far more disappointing. Eye hung half open as a half-full beer sat in front of Yuuma, currently the focus of his gaze. Back at the village, he had drunk a couple times with the adults, having been told it was a right of passage, but the stuff they had here was different. Watered down. Tastes like something that wouldn't even give you a hangover. For Mr. Lewa, however, it seemed that very little of the stuff sent him into an inebriated state. One that Yuuma would learn came with a lot of yelling, jostling of his shoulders, and nosefuls of the heavy sitting whiskey on the breath of the elder. And an endless stream of things to talk about. "You know, I tell you, this city use to be different. Us' t' be able to do an' honest days work. Then ye' shinobi came 'long." Yuuma felt his brows heavily push down against his eyes as he tried to understand how he thought this had been a good idea. What had he been expecting? "With ye' magic, able to produce things in a flash. Run faster than the wind. Lift trees like they are nothing." Mr. Lewa said, huffing out a belch and patting his chest a couple times, followed by an unsightly cough that caused chunks of mucus to fly from his mouth and cover a closed fist he halfheartedly held in front of his mouth, to then wipe the side of his hand off on his trousers. Disgusting. "Bet you got it real 'ard don't ye'." He said, getting very close then to the side of Yuuma's face, who hovered over his beer. "Poor boy. Poor boy." He taunted again. Although this was actually the third time he had said these things.

By this time, Yuuma took in a deep breath and steadily let it out in a sigh. "Well, it's been a night." He responded plainly. "Thank you for the waste of time, I needed a distraction." It might have sounded passive aggressive, but Yuuma truly was thankful to have been distracted from his usual train of thoughts to consider something different, but the berating and the watered beer gave the night a short-lived novelty. One that he was cashing out on as he lifted a hand to signal the server to come close his tab. Some coin was pushed across the counter, greedily looked over by the elderly man who murmured more unnecessary rudeness over his cup between sips of the sour whiskey rye. "See you around, Lewa." He said, patting the old man's back before turning to take his departure from the bar.

"Didn't I tell ye' I had some important stuff t' tell ye'?" Lewa hiccuped as he turned lazily on his stool, looking sloppy and mushed. When Yuuma turned around, the gaze in his blue eyes said that he had little interest in falling for this deceit a second time, trying to weigh in his mind if this old man actually knew anything worth sticking around for. With a sigh, and against his better judgment, Yuuma would rejoin the old man at the bar, but how half-seat on the outside of the bar stool said that he had a metaphorical foot out the door of this meeting. "You probably think you have a hard time understandin' certain things," Lewa said, eyes narrowing. "I bet you see things other people don' see. I bet you see patterns, details that skip by the average person. Bet it drives ye' crazy too." Lewa said though Yuuma didn't exactly look convinced that he had proven anything of worth. With a scoff and a shake of the head, Lewa raised his voice and pointed to his head. "There is somethin' wrong with your head, kid. Literally." A raised brow only made Lewa double down. "I'm serious! It's called an Nō Shīru. Apparently, it's a potent seal your people use to adjust the brain work of kids." Lewa shrugged. "That's about all I know on that end. Shun, your "father"- the man chuckled at the term- "was one hell of a fellow, and by that, I mean an unlucky one, getting stuck with you and that-"

"What do you mean there is something wrong with my head?"Yuuma interjected, not caring to hear the end of that thought, where ever it might go. Lewa had already proven to be of a particular opinion about the shinobi already, and he would hear them berated all he wished instead of the territory he had wandered close to. "I feel fine. I can be a shinobi, I can cook in a kitchen, I don't have some strange urge to harm people." Yuuma said the arm propped up on the counter flicked it's hand limply out into the air once. "Far 's I'm concerned, I'm getting along just fine with however my brain is working now. I don't see a reason to try and go change somethin' that ain't broken." He shrugged, rolling his elbow. "Anyway, thanks for the talk," Yuuma said, pushing himself up from the bar once more. This time, Lewa didn't stop him, offering an "ahhh feh anyway" with a tossed hand as Yuuma bundled himself up and prepared to walk out into the cold.

"Your body won't work right," Lewa called once more across the room. Yuuma paused in his steps, turning around with one hand on the door. "Everything might seem fine now, but things will start getting worse. You'll notice a handicap. You won't be able to keep up with those around you if you keep ignoring it. Ignoring a problem doesn't make it go away, kid." Despite the tone, he took with these words with choice enough to give Yuuma consideration to what he was saying. Something about this line was different, not tossed over his shoulder or slurred behind a glass. The door would push open and Yuuma would excuse himself out into the night air, taking in a few deep breaths as he began to think. His mind wandered the various missions he had been on, slowly going over each of the days in his mind to recall a point in time where he had felt a weakness or a difference. Something off, or wrong. Twice, stuck out in his mind. First, when he had spoken to the Hogokage that night after his exam, and again when he had let that man out of the gate. His hand lifted to that familiar, itchy spot. The same one that made his brain pulse when he tried to focus on too many things. A pulse that as well, kept him awake at night. The realization made his steps pause down the alleyway. Was whatever this was the reason for his sleepless nights? His tired feeling? Eyes fell to the ground as he reconsidered his options. Certainly, he could walk away and finish his night, pretending it was nothing more than a random meeting outside his place of work that he had read too much into, or a limited opportunity to explore his own mind, and perhaps even find an answer to some questions. Maybe even find some certain people.

A bell made a tinkling sound as the door to the cramped eatery was opened and closed once again, the robed figure of Yuuma approach the bar with some hurried steps. "How do I know you are actually telling the truth? How do I know that you, some old drunk who abuses hospital staff able to holding any answers that I might seek?" Yuuma questioned roughly, his brow furrowed, frustration evident on his features as his gaze bore into the old man. There was a seriousness about the young man that he felt was often absent, though those that knew him close might argue he was about the same amount as even all the time. But behind Yuuma's eyes burnt a dull ember of a flame that once roared. And Lewa saw it when he looked into Yuuma's eyes.

"I'll forget about that old part you threw in there," Lew said, turning his nose upwards with a huff and sipping on his whiskey like he was suddenly some manner of a gentleman. "You should respect your elders, you know." He replied, peeking one eye open to see the unamused visage that Yuuma portrayed. "Look, kid, you got the short end of the straw when it comes to life. Messed up brain, born to a town that is used to dump kids that freak people out, no real family to speak of. Shun never really struck me as a father figure.." Lewa mused drunkenly, scratching idly at his beard as he regarded Yuuma. "It will be a fair bit of work, but I got a couple ideas that will help you along the way to getting your mind right. Got some friends to introduce you to that will help as well. Come 'round the place tomorrow, we will get ye' some answers." He said, grinning a missing tooth grin from ear to ear. "Don't worry kid, you can trust I know what I'm saying. Besides, I learn most of it from the person who would know best; your mother." Lewa said casually, tipping his cup to find that it had run dry sometime in the past few minutes without his notice. Damn whiskey ninjas.

Yuuma sat there for a time, struck by the words that had just tumbled from the old man's mouth like a pair of dice rolling across the table and turning up doubles. "My...mother?" Yuuma asked, feeling his breath catch in his throat as he looked over Lewa, his mind searching for those hidden indicators that someone was lying. The nervous look away, the double-take at eye contact, touching of the face or mouth. But nothing. Iazowa Lewa was telling the truth. Somehow, this blithering drunk who now caused a ruckus at the bar had known his mother. The parent in his life he had never met, the person who had given him birth and, ultimately, dumped him with a guy like Shun in a village meant to dump freak babies to be forgotten about. Raised like farm kids who never grew up to know where they came from, ignorant to the world outside of the fields that were full of magical and strange powers. Abilities to alter reality in any way the user saw fit. All this and more, had Yuuma experienced with his time in Hoshi, but nothing had brought his attention to the beating heart in his chest, and the flow of his breathing like what Mr. Lewa had just said. "You...knew my mother?" Yuuma asked again, this time more solidly as Lewa banged his whiskey cup on the counter.

"Yeah yeah, I knew her. Hey, bar keep! Whos leg does a fella gotta rub to get a sip to drink around here, eh?!" He shouted. The disgruntled looking server would make her way back to the other end of the bar, filling his cup once more with a golden liquid while Yuuma continued to stare in slack-jawed realization. 

WC - 1,942.

More to be added in the following posts.

Despite his best efforts, Mr. Lewa's plan had gone sideways. What was suppose to be a night of easy drinks and pretending to forget his wallet and getting the generous young man to pay had turned into a headache beyond belief. It was like mentioning the kid's mother broke open some kind of dam, allowing a vicious flow of questions to spill forth. Like a ceaseless torrent, they had come steadily at first. But when he could not manage to keep the pace of his answer, he found himself quickly overrun, and soon it was impossible to get a word in edgewise. At first, Mr. Lewa planned to let Yuuma tire himself out, listening to the stories he had to tell about thoughts he had when he was younger. Stories of times he thought he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, of his claimed an event that had come to pass happened in a dream he had. All of it began to build up to sound a lot like a kid with an imagination that he had allowed to wander too far, connecting in its own strange way. At least, Lewa assumed it connected somehow considering how much the kid went on about these thoughts or occurrences he had. For Lewa, it was difficult to tell how much of it was anything that actually happened, and how much Yuuma had simply thought it happened. It was at this point that, the bartender wouldn't allow either of them to purchase any more beer. Sadly, Yuuma seemed disinclined to drink further if it meant he'd have to find it elsewhere, which meant the same courtesy was extended to Lewa, who balked back in appalment. "What?!" He squawked. "That ain' fai-!" The protest was met with the reminder that the young man had been paying for the drinks for both of them the whole night. Lewa's grumblings intensified as he gathered up the veritable nesting of belongings together before bustling through dinner, "You see if I ever- hik!- drink here agai'!" Though the tender simply shook his head. This had been the fourth time that Iazowa Lewa had made this claim.

What followed was a long walk full of barely withstrained questioning followed by answers the youth seemed to be less than satisfied with. Truthfully, he had not known Yuuma's mother like the youth seemed to suddenly believe. In truth, there meeting had to be a coincidence. The two of them had met while mutually seeking knowledge on a particular kind of Fuinjutsu. The specifics of which were lost to angry mumbles of cursing and swearing as the two of them made their way down the street. Fumbling with a latch, Lewa would turn and attempt to close the door behind him, though Yuuma persisted even still, unsatisfied with the answers he had gotten thus far, and insisting that there must be some manner of deeper connection if Lewa knew for certain that it was his mother, and expressed that he was beginning to feel as if the whole thing was just a lie. With a sigh, Lewa allowed Yuuma inside, barking at him to close the door behind him as they entered. Lewa steadily made his way around the tiny hovel that seemed to be in parts living space and at parts, a forge with a dormant smithing station packed neatly into a corner of the single room building. The back half opened into a smorgasbord of parts and tools. Gems and jewels, a desk with half-finished works, crates of crystal and quartz. It became clear to Yuuma quickly that Lewa was some kind of a gem smith. Still, the focus remained present, pushing instead than on the nature of their studying. "I told you!" Lewa replied in a tired huff. "We were looking for a particular seal! Something strong, nothin' ye' ever going to have heard 'bout in them kiddy books you've colored in." The remark earned a momentary scrunching of Yuuma's face into an expression in protest, though nothing vocal came of it. A sigh issued from Lewa before he continued. "I know because it was roughly nineteen summers ago. And I'd be willing to bet that is how many summers you will have seen." 

"No one says summers anymore." Yuuma protested again. "We know what days and years are."

"Phewy!" Lewa spits back, stamping his foot. "I'm the elder, I tell YOU what time it is. And now, it's bedtime!" shooing motions were made as the older man would scoot closer to the youth who didn't budge. When it became clear Yuuma was still not leaving, Lewa grumbled loudly. "Alright! She was looking for a seal that can go on a person's mind. There is only one reason that you put a seal on the mind of a kid, and it's not something that is practiced anymore." The shooing intensified then. "Now out! I got t' get my beauty sleep!" He insisted.

"What?" Yuuma said, now standing against the pushing of the old man like a solid brick wall. "How does that explain how you can identify it just by looking at me?" He asked, looking down to the man. "You called out my symptoms the way you did because you know what it is that is wrong with me. You know why I can't sleep. And if I have to stand here until you call the guards, then I will do so because you are the first person to even begin to realize my situation, and if you hold some sort of key to understanding, then being locked up is worth it." Yuuma said, looking down to the old man, who began to slowly halt his struggles against the younger man. Old eyes looked into his deep blues as if looking for something deep down there, though if he had been looking for something, it was difficult to tell if had found it. 

"Bah, kid." The old man huffed, dropping his arms to his side. "I'm not calling the guard, they don't come for me anymore anyway. That's the way I prefer it. I can handle myself!" He shouted, raising a fist, then slowly lowering it to his chin, tapping it against his jaw in thought several times as he regarded Yuuma. Deep down, Lewa felt a pang of guilt. He had played on the poor lad's disability and lack of family for a couple of beers. Even as jaded as Lewa was, he was not a complete monster. With a drawn-out groan, Lewa put his hands up and let them fall back to his side. "Fine. Do you really want answers that bad? The truth is, I don't know! I didn't study the same stuff your mother did! It was a chance meeting that I happened to know where to send her. Funny enough, it's the same place I had come from." The man said, his voice growing mischevious as he turned and rubbed his hands together. "And in a sense, that is the same place I will send you. The place that truly can answer any question you might have," he said, adding, "And a lecture to go along with it." quietly. Digging about through a collection of things lining the back of the room, Lewa would eventually return with a gourd, dark yellow in color. A liquid could be heard squashing about in the container, a wicked smile playing across the face of the elder. "There is a ceremony that will send you on a journey to find the answers to the question you seek. To the normal person, the concoction is a typical psychedelic kind of drug." The man said, taking a drink from the gourd and wiping his lips with a then scrunching his face together as though it was sour in taste, shaking his head with a huff before continuing. "But to someone like you, someone who doesn't see things as we do, it's something else. Something stronger. Something that...I won't lie, might make you think you are absolutely nuts- I have no idea." He punctuated with a shrug. "But what I can guarantee is that, if you meditate with the questions in mind while this settles in your stomach than those thoughts will become part of your body. Part of your actual, physical body." He said, sweeping his arms around his midsection. "It will feel as though you have swallowed rocks, and once those rocks harden inside you, you will partake from the smoke." He said, motioning aside to a pipe he had resting in a small serving tray.

Yuuma had been watching carefully the whole time after the man had taken a drink. Whatever was in here, it couldn't have been all that bad. Certainly not a poison if the man was willing to drink it himself before handing it over. Sniffing the bottle, Yuuma skeptically sloshed the liquid around, listening for something inside, as if some manner of creature might try to crawl into his mouth as he took a drink. Nothing so far. Shrugging, Yuuma decided that his shinobi training would prepare him for whatever unpleasantness this ceremony might bring. At worst, it would probably be a shitty wine. The truth almost made him regurgitate as he fought to keep the potent, thick tasting drink down. Taking a healthy slug of the drink, it felt like he was swallowing pure charcoal as he strained against his throat muscles, fighting to keep from coughing to clear the sludge that now poured down his throat. The single swallow was so bad that when he pulled the gourd away, his eyes squeezed shut, tears forming at the crease of his eyes, blurring his vision as he blinked and swallowed several times to get the swig down. Despite this, he kept his questions in his mind, his queries he had gathered over such a small amount of time. Description provided by the elder turned out to be spot on as Yuuma could, indeed, feel the substance in his stomach as if it were mixing with it's contents and hardening to a stone. A tingling crept along his back that brushed along his arms like a cloak that covered his body. As the taste began to fade, Yuuma was vaguely aware of Lewa moving about the room, preparing the pipe for use. Appearing before Yuuma, he would silently instruct Yuuma to hold a serving tray while he lifted a pipe to display to the youth.

"You ever smoke, kid?" Lewa asked, a sound like a laugh and a huff escaping the old man as Yuuma shook his head no. "Well, this isn't going to make you want to do it again," Lewa observed Yuuma, who gained a glossed over look as he added a lump of hot coal to the end of the pipe, tapping it a few times before lifting it to his lips. "Just inhale, hold, imagine finding a path to the answers you seek, then exhale." To demonstrate, the elder would take a pull in from the pipe, hold it, his eyes slowly closing before a pure white cloud would exit from his lips, quickly filling the room, and provoking Yuuma once more to try and cough, though he managed to hold, much to Lewa's amusement. "Good, kid. Most people can't hold themselves together." He said, putting the pipe down on the tray, and taking the tray from Yuuma. By now, Yuuma appeared to have fully taken in the drink, his system allowing him to barely keep it together and keep from ejecting his guts everywhere. Taking up the pipe in his hand, he looked it over, sniffed it. 

"In for an hour, in for a day." Yuuma thought. Putting his lips to the intricate glass piece, the youth would inhale deeply, familiar with the kind of tobacco that the farmers smoked. Apparently, it kept the bugs away, but all it really did was make them smell bad. Yuuma had never partaken. Though as Yuuma held the smoke in his lungs, he felt the mixture of the drink from before mixing within him, causing a sensation that tingling parts of his brain, causing muscles to twitch, his eyes also slowly closing as his eyes rolled back up into his head. "Take me to where I am meant to go." Thought purposeful, deliberate in his mind as he exhaled the puff of pure white smoke in a cough, hacking fit. Lewa laughed, taking the tray away with the pipe to prevent their damage as Yuuma struggled to gather himself. Coughing racked his body as he doubled over, face going red as he struggled for air. Vaguely, he was aware of Lewa moving around the room, turning his head to see the old man lift a waterskin from a hook on the wall and move to place it in Yuuma's hand. Thankful for the drink, Yuuma would help himself to a spot of sitting where he stood, taking a swig from the skin as his throat burned, soothed by the rush of water. A sigh of relief followed as Yuuma sat back against the wall. "I thought you said this would show me the path to my answers, or some shite." Yuuma said, stifling another cough as he set the waterskin in his lap. It was then that Yuuma began to feel the full effects of the smoke. A creeping waver in the upper edges of his vision. It felt as though the skins on the tops of his arms were being pulled upwards, as though gravity had reversed, causing his stomach to flip, a feeling in his head like his brain now rested against the top of his head before his whole body shifted, following the orbit of some unseen source of gravity.

"Oh, aye, it will." Lewa smiled, backing away and grabbing a blanket from his bed and wrapping it around himself as he slumped down onto his bed with a content smile crossing his face. Yuuma blinked, not understanding, but shortly being distracted. His eyes boggled as he looked to the boards making up the flooring, watching them pull themselves up cartoonishly, nails acting as eyes that looked around the room before landing on Yuuma. The piece of wood bent out of shape, snapping from the floor with a sound that caused Yuuma to jump. Somewhere in the background, something heavy must have been rumbling over by Lewa, as the sound began to emit from the bed like long, deep sounds. The sounds of laughter. 

"What you lookin' at?" The board said, sprouting a pair of twiggy arms and legs with which it walked on, shambling across the floor and out the door that had been at some point opened, Yuuma shaking his head as he looked to Lewa now standing beside the door, looking from the walking piece of wood and back to the old man, a look crossing his face as if he, too, had just seen what just occurred here in the room. To which the old man would nod a knowing nod, motioning for the man to follow the walking piece of wood through the door as if was a normal experience to have. Clearly, whatever alien nature he had unlocked, Iazowa Lewa was very familiar with it. Standing from his prone position, Yuuma would fasten his coat around him, and the waterskin as well, figuring this was meant for him to take on his journey. Shuffling through the door, Lewa watched Yuuma's back as he slowly walked along where ever his mind was taking him, a few memories coming to mind that would sit somberly behind the gaze that followed Yuuma from the area before the door to the shop would shut. 

WC - 2,624
TWC - 4,566

Stepping out into the chilly air of the becoming night, Yuuma would think only mildly to fasten the straps of his jacket amidst all the noise of the city, walk lopsided due to a heavyweight that felt like it rests on his shoulder like a plump bird companion. In reality, it was most likely the water skin fastened to his side that caused his walking to be lopsided, though if you asked Yuuma, he would tell you it was due to the shape of his legs. As he walked, the road before him curving upwards in rippling waves that echoed with each of his steps. Thankfully, this allowed his much, much smaller leg to walk from ripple top to ripple top, though with a bit of a lean. "It's a wonder anyone uses a damn road anymore." the toxified thoughts of the man jumbled about in just skull like popcorn popping over a kettle and coming to rest in the sides of his head. Reaching upwards, Yuuma pressed a thumb against his temple, and like a hatch, the top would flop open like some sort of kitchen waste bin, putting a buttery smell into the air about them, causing Yuuma to emit an audible "Mmmmh.." as he passed a pair of ladies, who looked back at the sloppy walking man with some caution, and a hint of sympathy before continuing on their way. Yuuma paid them little mind. His mind was for popcorn. A sweet, salty, buttery mess that dribbled from his hand as he ate the corn-like mush as he walked. Flicking his head to the side in order to close the lid, the young man would feel a burst of reality as a dull pain throbbed momentarily in his head after having bumped it on a low-hanging sign. Lifting a hand to touch the spot he had hit his head, he felt a strange texture, almost like an animal sat upon his head. Confusion struck him as he pulled his hand away, gripping strange purple cotton in his hand that bled from his hand, twitching and beating like some kind of heart. Blinking, Yuuma focused intently on the now external organ attaching itself to his hand, the purple run off feeling more like sand than blood. Beneath the clump of moss, he could see his fingers melding into the substance, growing and twining together like the branches of a tree.

Thankfully, he was shocked back awake by the blaring of a horn that rocketed past him on the road, the angry yelling of some man heard from the way behind him, damning something it called a "tweaker". Concrete beneath his feet caught the young man's attention then, down to the odd, alien-like shoes he wore that didn't simply stop at the ankle but instead attach directly to it like some sort of module. Blue eyes looked through a hazy purple lens at the city street, bustling with activity. A bipedal dog walked a human backward with a leash, the human's feet coming from its knees and elbows like some sort of horrific genetic experiment inspired by the wrong kind of film. Buildings stood tall, oddly shaped holes cut in their sides to act as a window, though some seemed to lead to no discernable living quarters, and some seemed closed altogether. Vehicles moved along the streets in crawling, treaded wheels with treads that looked as if they were made of very tiny feet, giving Yuuma the impression that it was not a vehicle at all, but instead some kind of living creature. Stopping at a street corner, Yuuma dug into the pocket of his vest, searching for something but seemingly being unable to find it. "Yuuma." Came a familiar voice. The voice of Valen. "Yuuma. Yuuma." Came the voices again, disembodied as Yuuma turned his head this way and that to finally find the only living creature anywhere close. A pigeon.

"Are...you talking to me?" Yuuma felt himself ask out loud.

"Yuuma." The pigeon said again, it's head morphing into that of a human shape. Valen. The Hogokage and his master now sat before him on a crossing light pole, a miniaturized head sitting upon the winged body. "What are you doing? You have much to learn." The stoic voice of his master would speak down at him. "Now feed me." He demanded. Patting his pockets, Yuuma felt no snack to be had beneath the leather vest he wore, nor within the rather nest-like overdo of the pompadour that sat atop his head. Out of popcorn. "Yuuma." Valen tweeted impatiently. Shrugging, the young man would figure that some re-use was in order. Rolling up his sleeves, Yuuma would grip onto his forearm, gripping into the flesh of his own arm with his nails until he heard the pop-crack sound. Like a cracker being broken in half. A handful of bread-like flesh coming away into his hand, leaving behind an impression of his own hand that slowly began to reform with an almost skin like liquid that bubbled up from the bottom, filling in the grooves that his fingers made until his arm was whole once more. The cracker-like substance of his own flesh in his hands crumbling like a series of cubes that had lost structural integrity. Like millions of tiny pixels that tumbled in his hand as he kneeled and extended the offering of flesh forward. Once the tiny Valen pigeon hoped forward, two more fluttered down from the sides of the building to join in the feeding process. The Valens would grumble a stoic thank you as they bobbed their heads forward, taking little pecking bites of the bready treaty. "Hmmm." They all hummed one after another, causing Yuuma to split a grin. It was the same thoughtful noise he had made in the Academy when considering Yuuma's performance. "Needs work." Came the response, despite the pigeon going back for another bite. Yuuma guffawed loudly, throwing his head back and no doubt drawing a few eyes with his bark of laughter.
"Could do better."
"Needs to study more."
"Should train a better variety of knowledge." Each of the pigeons critiqued as Yuuma turned his hand to dump the rest on the ground for the tiny masters to have at as they wish.

"Yeah yeah, I bet you don't taste much better, pal." Yuuma laughed, pushing himself back to his feet. Yuuma wasn't certain which orientation he had been standing before, but now entering his view, seemingly sitting on the walls of the city was what Yuuma would only describe as a vined person. As if a tree was growing roots in the form of a person sitting cross-legged, one hand sitting upon their knee, thumb, and point touching to create a circle whilst the other fingers rested across the leg, giving Yuuma the impression it was some manner of invitation, though uncertain for sure. The other hand was lifted, palm shown with fingers placed together. Standing in his location on the sidewalk, Yuuma puzzled over the growing figure in the distance until the earth shook violently beneath him, a rush of air pushing him suddenly forward to skim across his front across a hard friction surface, tumbling to a stop as the sound of thousands of screaming birds fills the air for a brief moment before a rain of hardened ice fell from the sky and littered the ground in a dazzling display of light and fire in the distance. Lifting his head, Yuuma could see the source only moments before he heard it. A brain rattling explosion that shook his entire body, his bright blue eyes mimicking the form of a mushroom-shaped cloud in the distance. And fear. Fear plain as day as Yuuma felt his breath catch. This was it. This was the end of everything he knew. From beneath the cloud, an angry volcano spewed forth what looked like a clawed hand. Flaming red that cooled as it touched air, like a beast rising from the depths of magma hell. Impossibly huge as the claw pulled itself free of the mountain top, crumbling the hillside as it emerged from the earth, rising to stand on two unfathomably huge legs, it's torso extending into the inner atmosphere, it seemed, though in place of it's head as not one mouth, nor two or three, but a thousand. A thousand maws that would open, singing the song that would end everything, finally unleashed from its prison after eons of sleep. Here to end everything he knew. Fear manifested.

"No." Yuuma stammered, feeling a pull in his mind that made him grab his head in a splitting headache, the song of the beast rolling through his mind like a white noise that threatened to suffocate every thought he had, his mind blanking of thought before he could begin to feel his muscles slacken. His mind began to mix its signals, the alien coding rewiring his brain. His consciousness lamented, wishing perhaps that he had not bothered to poke the veil, to flick at its very fabric in an attempt to understand it's outlined. Perhaps it would have been best to remember how to breathe. Remember what sound was, or the color red, but these things began to twist and morph, almost like Yuuma's body was undergoing a transformation, a system deletion in process of his less than vital parts, threatening to reduce him down to the simplest form in order to function, threatening to dismantle his very essence until he was stretched so thin that a piece of him may be placed on a billion different stars to burn simultaneously. "No!" He felt his voice resonate, like a light wave bouncing from a torch down a tunnel, displaying the nature of the beast that had crawled for from between the frames of his vision to wrap it's clawed hand about his neck, attempting to suffocate him within his own body. Thankfully, the beast had been revealed long enough for Yuuma to put all points in there place for a split second, his fist curling back before unleashing a haymaker of a punch landing square against the cheek of the creature that was attempting to entrance him. "Yes." The solid thought resounded again, bouncing about his immediate surroundings in another flash of brilliant light from the torch. "Time to leave." He thought, putting himself into a low crouch before pushing off the ground with a force that made him feel as though the ground had crunched beneath his feet, building flying past him in a blurred motion as he made his way to the giant growing person in the distance. The ground raced beneath him at such a pace, he could hear the wind whistling in his ears as he tore through the air, desperate to leave this all-consuming shadow behind him.

~~~

"You kind of deserved that, I told you not to shake him." the woman sighed, shaking her head slightly to herself.

"Okay that is fair, but I didn't think he'd slap me." the man replied, rubbing his face. The two of them had been returning from an evening out when they had encountered the teen standing listlessly, starring off into the distance like some kind of zombie. When no reply came, the two of them approached in an attempt to see what was the matter. A lack of response from the young man warranted concern, and the two of them attempted to wake him, though for his troubles the man received a startled slap across his face that was really more of a surprise than anything before the strange teen turned and began running away if it could be called that. The pace was hardly faster than a walk, and the young man lifted his arms behind him as though it was reducing the drag he had on his person in order to run faster, though it didn't seem to be doing much, and neither did the whooshing noises he quietly made with mouth as he went. "Well, can't say I didn't try." The man said.

"Hope he's somewhere warm to wind up." The woman said, patting the man reassuringly a couple of times before leading him away with a sympathetic nod once their eyes met.

WC - 2,040
TWC - 6,606

[Exiting. No claims.]