Post by Whelk on Feb 5, 2016 4:46:21 GMT
"One day I am going to get off this planet."
Whelk stared at his brother, stone faced, as he spoke of leaving the planet. It was not uncommon for him to wish for a different life.... a better life. All they knew was training, fighting, scavenging, surviving. The same thing every day. The two of them strolled out of the cave, a large animal strung over his brothers shoulder, he was taller than Whelk. He was, by all accounts, the leader of the siblings. The strongest, the fastest, but not the smartest. No, his brothers all thought themselves the smartest, but Whelk was beyond them. He never spoke up, he refused to let hubris be his downfall, but it was a fact that they could not deny. He could tell that they knew it as well, the way they looked at him, the way they turned to him when the problem grew to large for them to handle.
Whelk crashed into the back of his brother and let out an audible "Oof!" He must have been lost in thought and not spotted his brother stop. He rebounded off his brother and crashed to the grown, dust expanded around him, and he looked up angrily. In place of his brother stood his father. Those cold, dark, eyes glared down on him and they beamed disappointment seemingly into his very soul. Immediately Whelk was filled with fear. The air around him seemed to grow thicker and then quickly the sky turned dark. Almost as if he had been caught in a tornado everything began to spiral out of control.
**
Whelk's eyes flashed open and he shot upright. Sweat beaded down his head and he quickly realized he was panting. It took him a moment to gather himself but quickly he regained his composure and reality set itself right again. Whelk threw his feet over the side of the cot he had found to sleep on. The room he was in was bare except for the bed placed directly in the middle of the room. A single window sat on the far end of the room and the rising sun was beginning to peek into the room and illuminate it. Whelk hated when it was light out as the gravity of his situation disgusted him.
He lived in an abandoned shack on the edge of the city, a huge upgrade from his previous dwelling to be sure, but still a piece of garbage in terms of living arrangements. He was ashamed to admit his situation to those he trained with. Most of the other warriors were from powerful clans, they had places to live, people to go home to see. Whelk, on the other hand, had no one. He was the outcast, the mysterious Namekian no one could quite understand, but he preferred it that way. He had no one to hold him back, or at least, that is what he told himself.
Quickly he powered through his morning routine. After stretching, he dropped to the floor, and caught himself with a loud pop. One hundred push ups to start the day and get warmed up. After the push ups it was on to sits ups followed by his two mile jog to the training ground where the other warriors would be arriving. By the time he arrived he was usually already sweating and ready to go. He could have flown there, but, he did not want the others to know exactly how strong he was. Among the others his age, flight was an advanced technique, and if they knew that he could fly the illusion of weakness would be shattered.
It was the same as every other day. It started with one of the elder warriors going over proper fighting techniques. How to judge a battle, when to use certain moves, when not to. It was all really boring, and quite honestly, beginner material. Whelk had learned all of this when he was but a child. It helped that fighting was all he knew, the others, not so much. But he stood in formation silently, drifting off into his own little world, but paying enough attention that he was not scolded for staring into space again.
When they broke into pairs was when Whelk began to have fun. It was a delicate dance he performed daily. To make it appear that he was weaker than everyone else, but also learn from it. He intentionally fought badly so that the others would use reckless moves against him. It was a strange thing to do, but, one could discover much from a fighter with overconfidence. What moves they favored, what techniques they relied on, where they struck when they wanted to end a fight. If any of them decided it was in their best interest to fight him, Whelk knew their weaknesses, and he could dismantle them with minimal output. The goal of any fight.
The day quickly devolved into night and the others began to thin out. Whelk found himself, yet again, the last to leave as he quickly ran through a few of his favorite combinations. Finally, he decided that his body needed rest, and he began the long walk home. About ten minutes into thinking about whether he would eat three day old fish or if he was willing to start a fire and cook up some meat, a noise caught his ears, and his eyes darted all around him trying to discern the source. The culprit, or culprits he would quickly discover, made their presence known.
"Look who it is, boys, its the freak from the mountains." The largest of the group shouted so that it was obvious he was referring to Whelk. The other two burst into laughter around him and Whelk lowered his head and tried to continue onward. "Hey, I am talking to you, freak!" Whelk took a few deep breaths and quickened his pace. He did not get far before he felt a hand on his shoulder that spun him around to come face to face with their little gang leader. He was around the same height as Whelk, but he was built much heavier than Whelk, and made him feel a lot smaller than he really was. "We been following you the last few nights out to your little shack." Whelk felt a pit form in his stomach when he realized they had found him. "So what, are the rumors true? You killed your father and then holed up in a little shack on the outskirts of town?"
Before he could react he was shoved to the ground violently. He crashed down hard and he glared back up at the three as they laughed over him. He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth as he slowly tried to push himself up. "I don't want any trouble, guys, can you just leave me be?" His question was answered as one of the smaller boys sent a kick in his direction. For a moment, Whelk considered letting it hit him, but he reacted instinctively and threw his arms up to block the attack. It wasn't very powerful and it bounced off his arms.
It was then that it all came flooding back him. He remembered the reason why they had began following him. He quickly cursed himself as he thought back to the day he had enough of the larger one. In group sessions, Whelk had grown sick of his antics, and he quickly put him down. It was during the commotion of a multiple person fight and it had seemed like he had accidentally gotten the drop on him. The truth was, it was a bit of both, good luck and planning. The session was called to a halt but the brutish man had tried to pummel Whelk. The elder warriors broke it up and Whelk guessed he was getting his revenge.
"I am sorry about the other day," Whelk said calmly as he lowered his arms to his side to try and defuse the situation. "Just got lucky, no reason to leave me for dead out here." His eyes scanned the faces of the three of them but he could tell they were not going to relent. He quickly prepared himself for what he thought they would do next, but, he realized he needed to get the upper hand. He could fight defensively only for so long before one of them caught him and that would be the end of the battle. He didn't have to beat all three of them, just one, their leader.
"You think you're hot shit, don't you, kid? The...." Whelk did not give him time to finish as he quickly sprinted forward. He supposed the speed at which he moved surprised the other two as their eyes widened in horror as his fist slammed powerfully into his gut, doubling him over. Right when he was falling over forward, Whelk reared back his fist, and then smashed it into his jaw with a powerful uppercut. The strike was powerful enough to nearly lift the large Namekian off of his feet, but instead, he fell backwards. At first Whelk thought that his strike had incapacitated him, but he quickly realized, it has just angered him.
He sensed a strike coming from his right and Whelk ducked down to his knee. Sending up an elbow he felt it connect into the smaller Namekians rib cage. Doubling over Whelk did not have time to react as he felt a powerful kick land against the side of his head. Letting out a grunt, he felt the earth fall out from under him, and then in a flash he slid in the dirt.
Whelk moaned and put his hands into the ground to push himself to his feet. Gastro, Gastro was his name, for some reason it came flooding back to him as he pushed himself into the push-up position to try and get back to his feet. He could hear the three of them gathering themselves behind him. "That cheating little…." The rest of his words were muffled as he shook his head to gather himself.
Standing at full height, he turned on his heel to see Gastro and his two minions staring him down. The one he had elbowed was nursing his ribs and Gastro was rubbing his chin where a small welt was beginning to form. "You'll pay for this you little shit!" Gastro screamed before he charged Whelk.
Wondering how he was going to get out of this, Whelk dodged the first flurry of attacks, retreating to his mind to figure out a solution to this fight. His thoughts were quickly pulled back to reality when another kick landed true, this one directly to his gut, and he doubled over in pain. He quickly tasted both blood and dirt as he was smashed into the ground and he prepared for the worst.
"What the hell are you three doing!" A familiar voice rang out and he let out a sigh of relief. One of the elder Namekians had spotted what was going on and he flew into the battle. Gastro and his band of merry jack asses haulted their assault and stared up at him. "I'll have the group of you punished for this!" He shouted as Gastro and the two others bounded off into the darkness. For a moment, Whelk struggled to push himself up, and he spit out a gob of blood, dirt, and saliva. "You okay?"
"Fine, thanks." Whelk said roughly as he struggled to get to his feet. The elder put his arm out to help Whelk, but he shrugged it away, refusing to show weakness even in defeat. "Said I am fine." It came out angrier than he had meant, but, he was a bit miffed about the entire situation.
"Didn't seem much fine about it." The kindness in his voice changed to stern the moment he knew Whelk was okay. "They been after you long?" He asked, genuinely curious, it seemed.
"Few days I guess," Whelk said as he rubbed his jaw trying to work out the soreness. He would be in pain for the next few days, especially with his lack of nutrition, and sleeping arrangements. "Cowards, ganging up on a single person." He spit again, venom in his voice at the thought of them.
"Cowards always fight in packs." He said matter of factly. Luckily for Whelk, the Namekian seemed to not want to shame him any further, he knew that the longer he pitied him the more he would shame him. "Maybe get home before dark tomorrow?"
"Yeah, sure." Whelk said quietly before he began the long journey home sporting a nice little bruise on his cheek and quite a throbbing pain in his ribs.
After what felt like an hour, or a day, his little shack came into view. Pushing the door to his shack open he pulled off his top and flung it to the floor. It dawned on him during the fight that he much preferred a warm meal, and, he felt like he deserved it. So for the next hour he quickly put together a fire outside the shack and he began to cook. Before long his belly was fully and he closed his eyes. It was the worst part of the day, when he had to go back to sleep.
"One day I am going to get off this planet."
WC: 2244
Whelk stared at his brother, stone faced, as he spoke of leaving the planet. It was not uncommon for him to wish for a different life.... a better life. All they knew was training, fighting, scavenging, surviving. The same thing every day. The two of them strolled out of the cave, a large animal strung over his brothers shoulder, he was taller than Whelk. He was, by all accounts, the leader of the siblings. The strongest, the fastest, but not the smartest. No, his brothers all thought themselves the smartest, but Whelk was beyond them. He never spoke up, he refused to let hubris be his downfall, but it was a fact that they could not deny. He could tell that they knew it as well, the way they looked at him, the way they turned to him when the problem grew to large for them to handle.
Whelk crashed into the back of his brother and let out an audible "Oof!" He must have been lost in thought and not spotted his brother stop. He rebounded off his brother and crashed to the grown, dust expanded around him, and he looked up angrily. In place of his brother stood his father. Those cold, dark, eyes glared down on him and they beamed disappointment seemingly into his very soul. Immediately Whelk was filled with fear. The air around him seemed to grow thicker and then quickly the sky turned dark. Almost as if he had been caught in a tornado everything began to spiral out of control.
**
Whelk's eyes flashed open and he shot upright. Sweat beaded down his head and he quickly realized he was panting. It took him a moment to gather himself but quickly he regained his composure and reality set itself right again. Whelk threw his feet over the side of the cot he had found to sleep on. The room he was in was bare except for the bed placed directly in the middle of the room. A single window sat on the far end of the room and the rising sun was beginning to peek into the room and illuminate it. Whelk hated when it was light out as the gravity of his situation disgusted him.
He lived in an abandoned shack on the edge of the city, a huge upgrade from his previous dwelling to be sure, but still a piece of garbage in terms of living arrangements. He was ashamed to admit his situation to those he trained with. Most of the other warriors were from powerful clans, they had places to live, people to go home to see. Whelk, on the other hand, had no one. He was the outcast, the mysterious Namekian no one could quite understand, but he preferred it that way. He had no one to hold him back, or at least, that is what he told himself.
Quickly he powered through his morning routine. After stretching, he dropped to the floor, and caught himself with a loud pop. One hundred push ups to start the day and get warmed up. After the push ups it was on to sits ups followed by his two mile jog to the training ground where the other warriors would be arriving. By the time he arrived he was usually already sweating and ready to go. He could have flown there, but, he did not want the others to know exactly how strong he was. Among the others his age, flight was an advanced technique, and if they knew that he could fly the illusion of weakness would be shattered.
It was the same as every other day. It started with one of the elder warriors going over proper fighting techniques. How to judge a battle, when to use certain moves, when not to. It was all really boring, and quite honestly, beginner material. Whelk had learned all of this when he was but a child. It helped that fighting was all he knew, the others, not so much. But he stood in formation silently, drifting off into his own little world, but paying enough attention that he was not scolded for staring into space again.
When they broke into pairs was when Whelk began to have fun. It was a delicate dance he performed daily. To make it appear that he was weaker than everyone else, but also learn from it. He intentionally fought badly so that the others would use reckless moves against him. It was a strange thing to do, but, one could discover much from a fighter with overconfidence. What moves they favored, what techniques they relied on, where they struck when they wanted to end a fight. If any of them decided it was in their best interest to fight him, Whelk knew their weaknesses, and he could dismantle them with minimal output. The goal of any fight.
The day quickly devolved into night and the others began to thin out. Whelk found himself, yet again, the last to leave as he quickly ran through a few of his favorite combinations. Finally, he decided that his body needed rest, and he began the long walk home. About ten minutes into thinking about whether he would eat three day old fish or if he was willing to start a fire and cook up some meat, a noise caught his ears, and his eyes darted all around him trying to discern the source. The culprit, or culprits he would quickly discover, made their presence known.
"Look who it is, boys, its the freak from the mountains." The largest of the group shouted so that it was obvious he was referring to Whelk. The other two burst into laughter around him and Whelk lowered his head and tried to continue onward. "Hey, I am talking to you, freak!" Whelk took a few deep breaths and quickened his pace. He did not get far before he felt a hand on his shoulder that spun him around to come face to face with their little gang leader. He was around the same height as Whelk, but he was built much heavier than Whelk, and made him feel a lot smaller than he really was. "We been following you the last few nights out to your little shack." Whelk felt a pit form in his stomach when he realized they had found him. "So what, are the rumors true? You killed your father and then holed up in a little shack on the outskirts of town?"
Before he could react he was shoved to the ground violently. He crashed down hard and he glared back up at the three as they laughed over him. He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth as he slowly tried to push himself up. "I don't want any trouble, guys, can you just leave me be?" His question was answered as one of the smaller boys sent a kick in his direction. For a moment, Whelk considered letting it hit him, but he reacted instinctively and threw his arms up to block the attack. It wasn't very powerful and it bounced off his arms.
It was then that it all came flooding back him. He remembered the reason why they had began following him. He quickly cursed himself as he thought back to the day he had enough of the larger one. In group sessions, Whelk had grown sick of his antics, and he quickly put him down. It was during the commotion of a multiple person fight and it had seemed like he had accidentally gotten the drop on him. The truth was, it was a bit of both, good luck and planning. The session was called to a halt but the brutish man had tried to pummel Whelk. The elder warriors broke it up and Whelk guessed he was getting his revenge.
"I am sorry about the other day," Whelk said calmly as he lowered his arms to his side to try and defuse the situation. "Just got lucky, no reason to leave me for dead out here." His eyes scanned the faces of the three of them but he could tell they were not going to relent. He quickly prepared himself for what he thought they would do next, but, he realized he needed to get the upper hand. He could fight defensively only for so long before one of them caught him and that would be the end of the battle. He didn't have to beat all three of them, just one, their leader.
"You think you're hot shit, don't you, kid? The...." Whelk did not give him time to finish as he quickly sprinted forward. He supposed the speed at which he moved surprised the other two as their eyes widened in horror as his fist slammed powerfully into his gut, doubling him over. Right when he was falling over forward, Whelk reared back his fist, and then smashed it into his jaw with a powerful uppercut. The strike was powerful enough to nearly lift the large Namekian off of his feet, but instead, he fell backwards. At first Whelk thought that his strike had incapacitated him, but he quickly realized, it has just angered him.
He sensed a strike coming from his right and Whelk ducked down to his knee. Sending up an elbow he felt it connect into the smaller Namekians rib cage. Doubling over Whelk did not have time to react as he felt a powerful kick land against the side of his head. Letting out a grunt, he felt the earth fall out from under him, and then in a flash he slid in the dirt.
Whelk moaned and put his hands into the ground to push himself to his feet. Gastro, Gastro was his name, for some reason it came flooding back to him as he pushed himself into the push-up position to try and get back to his feet. He could hear the three of them gathering themselves behind him. "That cheating little…." The rest of his words were muffled as he shook his head to gather himself.
Standing at full height, he turned on his heel to see Gastro and his two minions staring him down. The one he had elbowed was nursing his ribs and Gastro was rubbing his chin where a small welt was beginning to form. "You'll pay for this you little shit!" Gastro screamed before he charged Whelk.
Wondering how he was going to get out of this, Whelk dodged the first flurry of attacks, retreating to his mind to figure out a solution to this fight. His thoughts were quickly pulled back to reality when another kick landed true, this one directly to his gut, and he doubled over in pain. He quickly tasted both blood and dirt as he was smashed into the ground and he prepared for the worst.
"What the hell are you three doing!" A familiar voice rang out and he let out a sigh of relief. One of the elder Namekians had spotted what was going on and he flew into the battle. Gastro and his band of merry jack asses haulted their assault and stared up at him. "I'll have the group of you punished for this!" He shouted as Gastro and the two others bounded off into the darkness. For a moment, Whelk struggled to push himself up, and he spit out a gob of blood, dirt, and saliva. "You okay?"
"Fine, thanks." Whelk said roughly as he struggled to get to his feet. The elder put his arm out to help Whelk, but he shrugged it away, refusing to show weakness even in defeat. "Said I am fine." It came out angrier than he had meant, but, he was a bit miffed about the entire situation.
"Didn't seem much fine about it." The kindness in his voice changed to stern the moment he knew Whelk was okay. "They been after you long?" He asked, genuinely curious, it seemed.
"Few days I guess," Whelk said as he rubbed his jaw trying to work out the soreness. He would be in pain for the next few days, especially with his lack of nutrition, and sleeping arrangements. "Cowards, ganging up on a single person." He spit again, venom in his voice at the thought of them.
"Cowards always fight in packs." He said matter of factly. Luckily for Whelk, the Namekian seemed to not want to shame him any further, he knew that the longer he pitied him the more he would shame him. "Maybe get home before dark tomorrow?"
"Yeah, sure." Whelk said quietly before he began the long journey home sporting a nice little bruise on his cheek and quite a throbbing pain in his ribs.
After what felt like an hour, or a day, his little shack came into view. Pushing the door to his shack open he pulled off his top and flung it to the floor. It dawned on him during the fight that he much preferred a warm meal, and, he felt like he deserved it. So for the next hour he quickly put together a fire outside the shack and he began to cook. Before long his belly was fully and he closed his eyes. It was the worst part of the day, when he had to go back to sleep.
"One day I am going to get off this planet."
WC: 2244