Post by kadenkeene on Oct 18, 2006 11:36:10 GMT -5
They were standing in Kaden's apartment, of that he was sure. His television was there, his sofa was there...but they had been pressed up against the walls and out of the way. Out of the way of what, well, that he was most definitely not sure. Kaden peered at Francis, and he persisted much longer than he thought necessary for such an obvious question. In fact, he hadn't asked it; he simply peered. That should have been enough, shouldn't it?
But Francis stood firm. Firm, in this case, meant silent. Kaden tried his best to hide his frustration, but--
"OK, why the hell is my apartment all fucked up?"
Francis smiled, even tipped his head back and laughed a little. More frustration, and this time, Kaden felt a dire urge to knock the smile off his face. Of course, that wouldn't have worked...Francis would have been gone before he even got halfway. Instead, Kaden bit his tongue (literally) and sighed in an exaggerated sort of way. He hoped that if the peering hadn't been enough, and the question itself had not been enough, then the sigh would most definitely work.
Kaden started to peer again, but Francis cleared his throat.
"Lantlas." He said. And then, nothing.
Kaden looked around the room. "Um, yeah...is he here?"
"You have him this week. Can you beat him?"
"I...well, I don't know. I mean, I think I can, if I try hard eno-"
And then, an explosion behind his eyes. It was like being struck by lightning, and it even took a moment before Kaden realized he was flat on the floor. It took a moment longer to realize how he got there. There was a warm trickle of blood at the edge of his mouth, and he instinctively brushed it away with the back of his hand, and looked at it, just to be sure.
"What the fuck?" He blurted, struggling to pull himself upright again.
"You can't beat him! And do you know why?" Francis said, suddenly poised and hunched over, casting a foreboding shadow on the stunned man. Francis' arched figure looked like a crippled black shadow hanging over him. Kaden felt the need to scurry back, but before he could, he bumped into Francis' leg.
"Because he's not like the others!" Francis said, now behind Kaden, and throwing a hard kick into the small of his back. The pain was hot and blinding, and shot up into the back of his head. His arms lurched back and he tried to grasp the source, but his arms were snatched and twisted before he could. In his mind's eye, he could see his arms being grasped by talons, dug deep into his skin, and being twisted in grotesque ways that went beyond human flexibility.
Then, a hot breath in his ear: "Do you know why he's different, Kaden?"
He struggled to find a handle--something he could grip that would take his mind away from the pain that had now twisted its way down his arms and around his shoulders and wrapped itself around his chest. He struggled to find a door back to the world.
He managed a whelp, a spitting, high-pitched noise that sounded like: "Noooo!"
The hot breath didn't laugh, or even chuckle. There was no smile on those lips; he would have felt it. Instead, the hot breath stayed hot, stayed close, and stayed deadly serious.
"Because he isn't human."
And then, the twist was gone. The pain in his chest disappeared as quickly as it had come, and while the pain in his shoulders and arms stayed strong, at least he could now pull them into himself and curl up. He did just that, still whimpering, and the spittle still fell from his mouth. But he had found his door.
"What the fuck...are you talking about?" He managed, his eyes open and blazing at his attacker.
Francis stepped back round him, and looked down at him with what seemed like pity. He shoved his hands back into his pockets, as he usually did, and cleared his throat again.
"Lantlas," He said, and paused. Then, "Is not human."
Kaden pulled himself up at the sound of that. His eyes stayed locked on Francis', but the fury was gone. Instead, confusion.
"Wha...you mean, he's really an elf?" He said, almost laughing at the end.
"Did you think it was a gimmick?"
"Well, I mean, yeah! A fucking elf? Of course I thought it was a gimmick! Are you sure?"
Francis strolled back round Kaden, and Kaden almost flinched at it, but there was no vicious kick this time.
"I don't know if he is pure, but I know his line is true. He is what he says he is; the last of his line, a line of Elven Warriors from a long, long time ago."
Kaden took a moment, perhaps to collect himself. He rubbed his shoulder for what he promised himself would be the last time, and he pulled himself to his feet. They locked eyes again, and again Kaden made a silent promise to himself: To not let Francis get the best of him again. While many things in his life now were completely up in the air and unknown and confusing, Kaden was positively sure that what had transpired here today would never happen again.
"So what do I do? If he's so good, what can I do?" Kaden said, letting his arms flop at his sides.
Francis was instantly close; it was as if he had moved while Kaden blinked. They were nose-to-nose.
"First," He said, again in a whisper. "You have to stop being such a pussy."
A blind rage reaction. Kaden shoved Francis away. Enough of the closeness.
"That's a start," Francis said. "But you have to be more than that. Lantlas is faster than those jokes you faced last time, and he's far better than the drunk who beat you in the tournament. He's the best. You've never met a man who was as quick, as strong, or as smart as him. No man can be...
"But that should not concern you, Kaden. Do you know why?"
"No, obviously." He said sarcastically.
"Because you're not a man, either."
And then, another blind rage reaction; another knee-jerk response, and before he even knew it, Kaden's fist was flying at Francis' face. His throw met thin air. Behind him, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Kaden spun on a heel to meet it, and again had his arm raised, but he held back.
"Lantlas can't do that," Francis said with a smile. "And if he were standing where I was, you would have hit him."
Kaden smirked nervously. "Good! Well, then, I guess I'll be OK."
His nervous excitement was met with a shaking head. "The rage is easy. You just moved the way your body told you to move, like an animal. It was instinct. Can you bring that out? On command? When you need it? I could have made you beg for your life a moment ago. Where was your speed then?"
Kaden mulled it over, and he knew Francis was right. He had no idea how to make that speed come out. All he knew was that if Lantlas questioned his manhood, or enraged him enough, it would come. But from what Kaden had seen and heard of the PCW World Champion, there was no name-calling or goat-getting. He was the Class in Pure Class, and there would be no mind games. So how was he to--
Lightning struck again. Again, Kaden found himself flat on his hardwood floor. There was warmth all over his face, and he feared his nose to be broken.
"You cannot ever take your mind off the goal! You have to be prepared always," He hollered, then stopped. Francis smiled suddenly, and waved his hand around the room. "You've made improvements, though. Have you even noticed?"
Kaden was still stunned, and very confused. His nose was on fire, and his face was so warm. It must have been covered in blood, there was no other--
And then his eyes followed the direction of Francis' hand, and met the harsh stare of the morning sun. The drapes had all been yanked open, and Kaden lay directly in its path, bathed in the very thing he had spent the past two months hiding from. He was frightened, and also very, very relieved, albeit in a state of disbelief.
"You haven't turned to stone, have you?" Francis said. All Kaden could do was slowly shake his head. He held a hand up against the sun, but did gaze out into the majestic blue sky that only came with an autumn chill. It looked so inviting, yet you'd need a good coat to go out there. To go out there...
"I told you, forget the movies, forget the comic books. We aren't what Anne Rice writes about, and we aren't what Wesley Snipes kicks around on a Hollywood stage," He said, softly now, and almost in awe, as if he was hearing it himself for the first time. "We are the apex of evolution, and no one can stand against us. Not a half-breed ninja, not a reporter with a wooden stake, not a wrestling elf."
Kaden looked back to Francis at that. He nodded then, finally understanding the message, if not the entirety of it.
"But you need to work. This week will decide if you are special, or if you are just another normal schmuck who will fall in the long line of idiots who have dared to cross the Elven Warrior's last hero. It's up to you...well, that's a lie...it's up to me, but it's your choice if you're going to come along willingly."
Kaden even smiled a little. Francis threw his hand out, and helped his young student to his feet. The training had already begun, and perhaps, the hardest part was already behind them.
But Francis stood firm. Firm, in this case, meant silent. Kaden tried his best to hide his frustration, but--
"OK, why the hell is my apartment all fucked up?"
Francis smiled, even tipped his head back and laughed a little. More frustration, and this time, Kaden felt a dire urge to knock the smile off his face. Of course, that wouldn't have worked...Francis would have been gone before he even got halfway. Instead, Kaden bit his tongue (literally) and sighed in an exaggerated sort of way. He hoped that if the peering hadn't been enough, and the question itself had not been enough, then the sigh would most definitely work.
Kaden started to peer again, but Francis cleared his throat.
"Lantlas." He said. And then, nothing.
Kaden looked around the room. "Um, yeah...is he here?"
"You have him this week. Can you beat him?"
"I...well, I don't know. I mean, I think I can, if I try hard eno-"
And then, an explosion behind his eyes. It was like being struck by lightning, and it even took a moment before Kaden realized he was flat on the floor. It took a moment longer to realize how he got there. There was a warm trickle of blood at the edge of his mouth, and he instinctively brushed it away with the back of his hand, and looked at it, just to be sure.
"What the fuck?" He blurted, struggling to pull himself upright again.
"You can't beat him! And do you know why?" Francis said, suddenly poised and hunched over, casting a foreboding shadow on the stunned man. Francis' arched figure looked like a crippled black shadow hanging over him. Kaden felt the need to scurry back, but before he could, he bumped into Francis' leg.
"Because he's not like the others!" Francis said, now behind Kaden, and throwing a hard kick into the small of his back. The pain was hot and blinding, and shot up into the back of his head. His arms lurched back and he tried to grasp the source, but his arms were snatched and twisted before he could. In his mind's eye, he could see his arms being grasped by talons, dug deep into his skin, and being twisted in grotesque ways that went beyond human flexibility.
Then, a hot breath in his ear: "Do you know why he's different, Kaden?"
He struggled to find a handle--something he could grip that would take his mind away from the pain that had now twisted its way down his arms and around his shoulders and wrapped itself around his chest. He struggled to find a door back to the world.
He managed a whelp, a spitting, high-pitched noise that sounded like: "Noooo!"
The hot breath didn't laugh, or even chuckle. There was no smile on those lips; he would have felt it. Instead, the hot breath stayed hot, stayed close, and stayed deadly serious.
"Because he isn't human."
And then, the twist was gone. The pain in his chest disappeared as quickly as it had come, and while the pain in his shoulders and arms stayed strong, at least he could now pull them into himself and curl up. He did just that, still whimpering, and the spittle still fell from his mouth. But he had found his door.
"What the fuck...are you talking about?" He managed, his eyes open and blazing at his attacker.
Francis stepped back round him, and looked down at him with what seemed like pity. He shoved his hands back into his pockets, as he usually did, and cleared his throat again.
"Lantlas," He said, and paused. Then, "Is not human."
Kaden pulled himself up at the sound of that. His eyes stayed locked on Francis', but the fury was gone. Instead, confusion.
"Wha...you mean, he's really an elf?" He said, almost laughing at the end.
"Did you think it was a gimmick?"
"Well, I mean, yeah! A fucking elf? Of course I thought it was a gimmick! Are you sure?"
Francis strolled back round Kaden, and Kaden almost flinched at it, but there was no vicious kick this time.
"I don't know if he is pure, but I know his line is true. He is what he says he is; the last of his line, a line of Elven Warriors from a long, long time ago."
Kaden took a moment, perhaps to collect himself. He rubbed his shoulder for what he promised himself would be the last time, and he pulled himself to his feet. They locked eyes again, and again Kaden made a silent promise to himself: To not let Francis get the best of him again. While many things in his life now were completely up in the air and unknown and confusing, Kaden was positively sure that what had transpired here today would never happen again.
"So what do I do? If he's so good, what can I do?" Kaden said, letting his arms flop at his sides.
Francis was instantly close; it was as if he had moved while Kaden blinked. They were nose-to-nose.
"First," He said, again in a whisper. "You have to stop being such a pussy."
A blind rage reaction. Kaden shoved Francis away. Enough of the closeness.
"That's a start," Francis said. "But you have to be more than that. Lantlas is faster than those jokes you faced last time, and he's far better than the drunk who beat you in the tournament. He's the best. You've never met a man who was as quick, as strong, or as smart as him. No man can be...
"But that should not concern you, Kaden. Do you know why?"
"No, obviously." He said sarcastically.
"Because you're not a man, either."
And then, another blind rage reaction; another knee-jerk response, and before he even knew it, Kaden's fist was flying at Francis' face. His throw met thin air. Behind him, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Kaden spun on a heel to meet it, and again had his arm raised, but he held back.
"Lantlas can't do that," Francis said with a smile. "And if he were standing where I was, you would have hit him."
Kaden smirked nervously. "Good! Well, then, I guess I'll be OK."
His nervous excitement was met with a shaking head. "The rage is easy. You just moved the way your body told you to move, like an animal. It was instinct. Can you bring that out? On command? When you need it? I could have made you beg for your life a moment ago. Where was your speed then?"
Kaden mulled it over, and he knew Francis was right. He had no idea how to make that speed come out. All he knew was that if Lantlas questioned his manhood, or enraged him enough, it would come. But from what Kaden had seen and heard of the PCW World Champion, there was no name-calling or goat-getting. He was the Class in Pure Class, and there would be no mind games. So how was he to--
Lightning struck again. Again, Kaden found himself flat on his hardwood floor. There was warmth all over his face, and he feared his nose to be broken.
"You cannot ever take your mind off the goal! You have to be prepared always," He hollered, then stopped. Francis smiled suddenly, and waved his hand around the room. "You've made improvements, though. Have you even noticed?"
Kaden was still stunned, and very confused. His nose was on fire, and his face was so warm. It must have been covered in blood, there was no other--
And then his eyes followed the direction of Francis' hand, and met the harsh stare of the morning sun. The drapes had all been yanked open, and Kaden lay directly in its path, bathed in the very thing he had spent the past two months hiding from. He was frightened, and also very, very relieved, albeit in a state of disbelief.
"You haven't turned to stone, have you?" Francis said. All Kaden could do was slowly shake his head. He held a hand up against the sun, but did gaze out into the majestic blue sky that only came with an autumn chill. It looked so inviting, yet you'd need a good coat to go out there. To go out there...
"I told you, forget the movies, forget the comic books. We aren't what Anne Rice writes about, and we aren't what Wesley Snipes kicks around on a Hollywood stage," He said, softly now, and almost in awe, as if he was hearing it himself for the first time. "We are the apex of evolution, and no one can stand against us. Not a half-breed ninja, not a reporter with a wooden stake, not a wrestling elf."
Kaden looked back to Francis at that. He nodded then, finally understanding the message, if not the entirety of it.
"But you need to work. This week will decide if you are special, or if you are just another normal schmuck who will fall in the long line of idiots who have dared to cross the Elven Warrior's last hero. It's up to you...well, that's a lie...it's up to me, but it's your choice if you're going to come along willingly."
Kaden even smiled a little. Francis threw his hand out, and helped his young student to his feet. The training had already begun, and perhaps, the hardest part was already behind them.