Post by Loki on Aug 14, 2021 13:57:36 GMT -8
And there he lay. Apparently, he lacked the energy - or rather, absent was the care necessary to place himself squarely upon his bed. Instead, his sprawled-out body left an arm hanging off of the side along with one foot. In the clutch of the indolent arm’s hand was a sparse collection of flyers. His eyes having drunk in the information, there was little purpose to holding onto them. He did, regardless. While Loki did close his eyes after having flopped onto his bed, they refused to remain thusly. Instead, they opened. Fatigue had yet to take him and his thoughts were too rampant to allow it to do so.
News of a - THE Martial Arts Tournament was found on the flyers. For reasons Loki was making a valiant effort to discern, he was unable to determine his consideration for such a thing. The garbage was right next to his mailbox downstairs. Many individuals simply threw things like what his hand currently gripped right into it. In fact, that was exactly what he witnessed when glancing expectantly over to the trash bin. Discarded flyers. The ones who had discarded them likely had priorities elsewhere. Loki’s priorities had leeway, however. Having adopted a clean, albeit less profitable line of work in graphical design, remotely, much of his time and schedule was his own; but his life felt empty.
There was nobody in it; but why should there be? He was nothing and when he was something, it was a stain on society. It was something, at least. Would participating in a marital arts tournament change anything? Did he even want anything to change? It felt like the beastkin had long-since given up on existing. He just was not important enough, charming enough, lucky enough - any number of justifications as to why figures pass him by without a second though - or even a first thought; but it never stopped strangers from expecting the world and more from him as if a passing, hate-filled glance was somehow supposed to evoke a big smile and a gleeful conversation from him.
“Eh - maybe an event where everyone cuts loose could do me some good.” The words were directed to just himself. They were damp with a subtle portion of strain as he pushed himself up right on the bed. While he voiced his mild interest in the event, the reality of his unpreparedness for it rode its coattails like a terror-soused, screaming freight train. It was not as if he never watched one of the tournaments before. If one could not be there physically, it was televised. So, when he saw punches that shook the entirety of the stadium while knowing that his did not, it was clear that if he were serious about it, much preparation was required.
“Yeah, I’ll do it!” Loki announced to himself. It was a statement that had nothing to do with quelling anxieties. He had no problem with such, quite shameless from an upbringing that quickly and easily fell emotions and feelings of that ilk. It was a fortification of his resolve to contact an intrusive, odd kitsune like him. His first encounter with him was his last, but it seemed like that was about to change. He had information on how to progress as the nine-tailed demon fox he supposedly was. Surely, the best path forward would be through some variety of self-discovery, which hopefully would lead to the unearthing of his true abilities - or at least the beginnings of them. There was an indescribable feeling lurking deep within that continuously beckoned such, albeit subtly so.
Without wanting to abandon his current sitting position, Loki stretched to his bedside table to the utmost degree that he could, his outstretched arm reaching as far as it could to fish his phone from the table. “Got’cha…” he whispered in victory as he seized the device and reclaimed his upright position. Looking to the screen, the pads adorning his fingers began sliding about it. They were crafting a text message, clearly, and after it was sent, all there was to do was wait. He did so while letting himself fall backwards. Back against the bed, phone loosely clutched in his right hand, he stared at the ceiling overhead. It was a moment to breathe, collect himself and truly feel the comforts of the lull that ensued.
It was short-lived. There was no grand expanse of time before he received a reply. Loki sighed as the sensations from the phone’s vibration alerted him to it. Hardly a moment to be still. He should have known that as soon as he sent that message away, it would get a response. Was that not what he wanted? He had that thought briefly, but he countered it by wishing that, at least, it was an individual that did not come off as obnoxious and seemingly, on purpose. He did not surrender his position, but crafted reply after reply with the phone helt high and horizontal. After a time of exchange between the two, a place was decided to meet. The message read, “Let's meet in that convenient clearing right outside of town!”
It was hardly surprising, but he was already there. Loki walked nearer, dressed casually with the shades of night and his hood lending to the partial obscurance of his face. It was for no reason outside of his preference for walking about outside. “Hello!” called the taller red beastkin. He held a fox-like appearance akin to him. His dress was just as casual, but dressier at the same time. While Loki sported sweatpants and a hoodie being the dominant parts of his apparel, his taller counterpart touted jeans, a shirt and overtop, an open, button-up shirt. It was that brand of casual.
“Ah, hey.” Loki returned the greeting, but only at a fraction of the energy. The wave he tossed his way was cheaply made, but it was accepted with a smile nonetheless. “So, before anything else…” his paces ceased and he remained still, eyeing the other with his characteristic expression of fatigued placidness. “I’m Loki Fox. I don’t even know your name. You know you busted in a while ago, said cryptic stuff and all that, gave me your number, but never told me a name.” Loki pulled out his phone and turned it around so the screen faced the stranger. “I just put down Red Fox Dude in the name, even…” To this, the other started laughing. Loki pulled the phone back about an inch or two as his initial reaction, slightly taken aback and his slight movement reflected this. His face only changed due to a twinge of confusion. He did not craft the statement to be humorous, but humour was found in it anyway, ostensibly.
“How rude of me!” His words outed his chuckle like a clumsily-outed cigarette. “It’s Red. Now, if you don’t mind me asking, what brought you to actually go ahead with contacting me?”
“Red. That’s a cool name.” Loki fished a cigarette from his pocket. He only tapped the end of it before a flash of energy lit the end of it. Brought to his mouth, it was but a second-and-a-half before he received criticism for the act.
“You know that isn’t good for you.” The tone was not severe enough to suggest the individual now known as Red was cross. He surely was not passionate about quelling the habit. It possessed stronger tones of playfulness.
“Yeah, yeah. Aren’t we basically immortal, anyway?” The question was presented with an exhaling of smoke, taken by a small gale that just happened to pass them by in that moment.
“More…” Red hung on the word, which soon bled into thumming. “Long-lived, I would say. Careful throwing that word around.” Loki just shrugged half-hearted in response.
“There’s a tourney coming up,” Loki explained, answering the question posed to him a moment ago. “You said you know how we work, right? I just wanted some lessons.” He paused. “But my funds are pretty low, so I hope my company’s enough.” He chuckled.
“Ah. Yes, don’t worry. It is enough.” Red affimed with a gesture with both hands, padding the air gently before bringing one just beneath the bottom of his jowl. “The World Martial Arts Tournament. Interesting… Well, let’s start with asking about your tails. How many?” There was no reply that came. No meaningful one. Loki’s eyes widened in confusion, dispelling his devil-may-care expression.
“How... many?” Loki was only able to echo the question. That in itself proved enough of an answer for his kitsune doppelganger.
“I’ll just start at the beginning, then.” He cleared his throat and raised a hand into the air, an index finger extended skyward. “As a Nine-Tailed, you… well, will eventually have nine tails.” To demonstrate this, eight additional tails sprouted from the beastkin’s backside in a swift and loud whoosh. It managed to give Loki a bit of a start, to which he paused momentarily as if to take in the precious sight of nigh unfounded ignorance. Within the makeshift mentor's mind, he questioned how Loki’s instinct failed to bring about the knowledge he was about to impart.
“It seems like you have just the one for now, though. Also, do not worry. They come out when desired. You are stuck with just the one.” A sly expression overcame him as his words trickled to a conclusion. “...For the most part.”
“Wait - wha?” In a brief protest, Loki piped up, but was shushed immediately afterwards.
“This will go a lot faster if you just let me explain things. Questions can come afterwards, hm? Now, each tail, even just your one, houses a lot of energy in it and there are different ways to use it. So, you can do this. Now watch.” Red pressed his hands together. He moved his fingers into a certain configuration. “It’s called a Hand Sign and this one lets you take a portion of that energy from your tail. With this, you will be using energy from your body and a bit from the tail. Like this.” Red pointed up and opened one hand. Flames licked about his palm and spilled passed his caging, clawed fingers. “First! Tale of Fire! Demonstration!” He shouted it loud with a strain Loki had yet to witness from the still-barely-not-a stranger. A column of flame rose up in a raging river, but then died down with surreal fleetness. Taking a breath, he composed himself.
“Woah…” Loki cooed, eyes still heavenbound even after nothing remained to observe. “I can do that, eh?”
“Yes. Phew!” Red was still regaining lost breath. It was plain it was a taxing feat to perform. “As you can see, it’s hard work! But, if you do this method here…” Erecting his posture, he brought his hands together once more. However, he did not settle his hand into just one configuration. He moved from one configuration to the next and to the next. As he did so, one tail receded back into him, seemingly, leaving a few fibres of fur in its wake. “Same thing! Demonstration.” And he casually flicked a finger upwards, repeated the previous feat, but without the strain and the flare of his dramatic shouting.
“Before you get too excited… that method is beyond you. I can tell because you just do not feel… right. I can sense it!”
“Wait, so,” Loki began. He brought up a hand as if to halt everything. “Only one method is available to me until… when?”
“Until you can grow more tails, of course! That’s when I can show you what to do then, but for now… actually, I’ll explain these Hand Signs. So, this one here that I did? It’s for a tail with a fire nature.” As he spoke, Loki mouthed some of what was said back to himself, echoing it without actually lending voice to the words. “Your one tail there has a fire nature. I can sense it! And you can too and to do that… It’s tricky depending on who you are. You are a kind of magical fox, after all, so when I say move your awareness into your tail and close your eyes, what do you experience?”
“Hm.” Loki closed his eyes. What Red said made little sense to the grounded, but he knew what he meant. He ‘felt’ his tail without feeling it, moving his awareness, or attention, to it, in it, all throughout it and a red hue began to fill his blocked-off vision. Red eventually formed into bright and vivid flames, but it appeared like a simplistic cutout. “Holy shit…” he said and apparently, that was enough of an answer for his teacher.
“What’s neat is if you press your hands together enough, you will know you can draw from the corresponding tail when the right configuration is found - but we have already discovered all the hand signs and which corresponds to which element. So… I’m just going to send you a bunch of pictures of me doing each one. For when you can grow more! With enough growth, then I can show you the Tail Devouring hand signs!”
“Cool, cool…” Loki nodded, looking about the ground and then returned his focus to Red. “Why not now, though?”
“That’s a good question, but it has a really quick answer. It just will not work for you right now. It just will not do anything.” He shrugged after finishing the statement. “Intention is a big part of it. The signs are used to forge specific intentions, but your body basically does not yet understand those intentions. Your body… needs an update!” He paused for applause or laughter, but instead things just became even more quiet than either thought possible.
“Well… okay. So I can’t do the other method… two, or whatever. Can you explain how it works anywho? I wanna know…”
“Sure thing. It’s part of the deal, after all. It’s three hand signs. It crafts intention or instructions for your body to consume a tail and which tail? It is followed by a fourth sign, the element!” Upon hearing his explanation, Loki grinned. Chuckling for a while, Red was able to dismiss his worry. He tended to grow a tad-bit anxious when people just starting laughing out of no where.
“This… This is cool. I like it!” Loki said with a bob to his head and a wagging of his finger. He was stopped by the sight of an extended hand. It was his crimson counterpart wanting to engage in a handshake.
“This is payment here! We’re friends now.” He waited there without any intention of drawing the hand away, but somewhat surprisingly, there was hardly any hesitation before Loki grabbed his hand and shook. “Oh, wow.”
“Least I can do.” Loki said with an appreciative chuckle. “C’mon, I can at least afford some drinks!”
“Oh! Drinks… I’m afraid I don’t hold liquor well. A reeaal lightweight.”
“What? Nah… You’re bigger than me.”
“Even still! You will do better than me…”
The voices waned in volume. Their footsteps became quieter and quieter. When they thought the coast was clear, they looked around a piece of snow-covered stone jettisoning from the earth below. Cloaked in a robe of dark blue, hood draped over the majority of their face, only their snout poked out from its bedimmed depths. The muzzle showed a row of teeth as it equipped a wry smile, displaying their satisfaction with what they were able to gleam from the two beastkin’s meeting that day.
|wc: 2,600|