Description: So, what happens when Ryuhaku Todoh takes a particular shine to any of his students? Nothing sexy. Possibly nothing even humane! Yet, Roland S. Brown is more than but a mere student. He, like his fellow student Daniel, more than surpasses his expectations (when Todoh recalls what they even were to begin with in his pride-drunk haze) and goes forth boldly into the warzone that is Southtown a new man, cleansed of past weaknesses to go save the world of martial arts at lar--- pffthahahaha, oh, who are we kidding.
Well, here we are. Day Who Knows What of the great big siege upon Southtown. Few places go untouched. More than a few lives have already been lost. It's impossible to not know someone here who has been hit by the overwhelming violence and unrelenting force. It is a very bad time to be living here.
Unless you are someone like Ryuhaku Todoh, whom is merely vexed in ways not entirely dissimilar to the daily dissatisfaction he suffers as he stands before the latest is an increasingly longer line of annoyances and inconveniences to his very person.
The laundry.
"Bah! Those tourists! Hanging around in their little tight knit CULTURALLY IGNORANT groups and their flashy foreign cars with those... big pea shooters!!" He shakes an angry fist at the laundry. "Do you have any idea?! Of course not! You're laundry! You dripping wet freeloaders!!"
It should be noted that for all intents and purposes, the master(?) of the Todoh way is basically naked save for a loincloth. He has been for several days in the slight chill and the occasional rain. His body shows all the signs of violence - a few fresh bruises and cuts here and there, but given how he seems to be ranting his ass off, he must not be that bad off.
"And then you have the gall not to go dry over how many days now?! Lazy! Lazy!! Lazy!!! Grr! You better be dry by the next time I bring home spankin' new students out of these fools running all over Southtown! For I, Ryuhaku Todoh, will impart the Way of Todoh on their decadent ways!!"
He bears witness to a breezy day with the crab grass in his lawn continuing to spread in its eventual takeover of the entire property. One day, someone is going to get around to actually doing some proper landscaping. The skies are remarkably clear, here in the somewhat early afternoon.
Oh, Roland knows all about the war going on. It's been a free season for miscreants, thieves and panhandlers to take advantage of the chaos. But he hasn't been able to. No, Todoh has kept him all but a prisoner within the dojo. It was his own fault. He came out and told the old man that his will is weak, if he was allowed an inch he would take it, to do whatever he felt was neccesary to focus on the teachings. Two hours after that, he made his first bid for freedom. How many he has tried in the intervening weeks is lost to count. But none have gained him his desperate bid for FREEDOM.
Somewhere in the back of the dojo, Roland is panting. He has weights tied to his ankles and wrists, wearing little more then tattered pants, his stomach roaring for food. Peeking around the corner, he eyes Todoh. Distracted by the laundry. Excellent... he can make it this time! With a loud roar to bolster his courage, Roland begins to run in long, loping strides for the edge of the yard. At the adjoining fence, he lunges up, grappling the top. Then scrabbles his feet uselessly, grunting and cursing to himself. A loud pop echoes forth, before the board creaks, pulling away as one nail after another gives way.
Then it just clatters upon the poorly done lawn, sending Roland sprawling on his back. "...Ow."
The Kyokugen school is well known for the number of students that drop out almost as soon as they join, for how intense the workouts and training sessions are. Few can stand for long against the rigors of it.
Then you have the Todoh school, which is well known for how few students it ever gets in the first place. There is probably a very good reason behind this.
"You just wait!! You don't dry in time and it'll be the cobblestones for you! You cheeky wardrobe!" These sorts of threats to something that can't talk back or even actually recognize being talked to continue on and on in increasingly weirder, emptier threats up until the fence meets Roland and promptly sends him flat on his back for rudely bumping into it. That fence is a posh, high-society fence (for something so cheapy made) that will have nothing to do with the treatment of that sort of riffraff.
The older man's head turns slowly, arms crossed. He is quiet to start with. It is a blessing if one can ever get old man Ryuhaku to ever shut up about anything, ever. But the head turns, the world turns yet faster underneath his feet as eyes fall upon one of his finer students (...more like one of his /only/ students).
He smiles.
"So full of energy and vim that you're ready to go strike a mighty blow against those little pretenders, are we? Yeh hah hah!! Very good, very good!" His expression sours. "Unlike my irksome laundry, you do me proud, boy!"
"M... Master Todoh..." Roland huffs out, dragging himself across the grass, agonized. "I... I've done everything... all the... the endurance training... f,for days... please..." He prostrates himself, arms stretched with the weights dragged behind, forehead upon the dirt, all but groveling. "I think... my special training is done!!" Please god, let it be done! It's true that in the recent couple weeks, he's been trying his damn hardest. Mostly since the punishment for even being THOUGHT to be slacking off have been so, so much worse. In truth, it's been rather useful to him, a man who has made a life's work out of wriggling out of genuine effort. In terms of his psyche, he's very near popping like an overripe grape. But his stubborn nature also includes to persistance... luckily. He spares a venomous glance to the laundry. IT gets to just hang around. Being wet. It doesn't know how lucky it is!!
That laundry gets to hang around, being wet as it soaks up continued insults from the one who would wear it. It doesn't know how unlucky it is to have to be worn by a man who probably does not fully appreciate the sacrifices some people make in weaving them.
The master(?) is motionless before Roland's groveling, save for attempting to make some kind of eye contact as he appraises the fatigue, the weariness, the collapse of a man pushed to the brink of even being alive. The breaking in of a young man from a snappy upstart to a true martial artist!
"Hm." He ponders, brows lowering with an appraisingly condescending gaze. Bah, they don't make young adults like they used to, do they, whoever makes them these days. Outsourcing them to cheaper labor, they are! Shoddy quality, shoddy dedication!
"If that's so... how many Kasane Ates can you do in a day now, hm?! This isn't a wimpy multiple choice question!!" He starts wagging his left index finger while his right hand is firmly placed on his hip.
The hapless Roland held his breathe after the request. Every now and again he is asked this, but his answer had always been wrong. Even a ridiculous number was merely snorted away, and he'd been sent back to the proverbial salt mines. Think, Roland. You always used your mind well in other situations. This is a matter of life and death. Succeed, and you can begin turning this training into a repressed memory! And then, like the first star of a cold, black night, he knows what he has to say. His head lifts, and eyes strong and sure peer towards Todoh, despite the marks of sweat and dirt. "I do not know, Master Todoh. There are not yet enough hours in a day. The Kasane Ate flows through me now, like water through a hose. We are one."
Every now and then he asks him this, and the answer has always been wrong. Part of this is because Roland's teacher hasn't ever bothered to think of a right answer to it in the amount of time that has passed between the many times this has been asked. But he awaits his answer, nonetheless, in hopes it is something good and usable for his memoirs, if he ever writes them in anything other than his own head.
The eyes take the master off guard, if the subtle widening is any indication. He listens to every word with full, unwavering attention. He does not know, for there are not yet enough hours in a day, how the Kasane Ate flows through him like water through a hose. They are one.
He blinks twice. The second, much slower than the first. It settles into narrowed eyes. Upset? Is this not yet good enough for him?! Is Roland doomed to another week towards starvation and dehydration and exhaustion like a poor dwarf in a faraway land's newly founded fortress gone horribly wrong?
"Ahhhh... it'll do for the b-- I mean!" He clears his throat and straightens out his posture. "I mean to say, yes. That is... that is right!" Tears start flowing down his face. "That is the sign of a newly ascended star in the world of martial arts, under a shining beacon of light towards the future you will shape! And... and..." He sniffs obnoxiously, rubbing a finger under his left eye.
The happy moment passes suddenly as his hands drop back down to his hips. "So go some of those obnoxious tourists already!! And bring back some eggs! My wife's going to kill me if she finds out I haven't stepped a foot into the market somewhere to get them!"
What market?!
Indeed, Roland begins to frown, aghast, unable to comprehend more of these horrors. He'll blow up the dojo! Blow up the dojo and Todoh! He has no other choice! He was DRIVEN TO THI--... Caught off guard now, he stares intently at Todoh, trying to sense some manner of trick. "I... I pass?!" he offers, tone breathless and quiet. "I pass?!" He then manages the strength to surge to his feet, thrusting his quivering arms to the heavens. "I DID IT!!" he belts out, sounding to be genuinely proud. He gutted it out after all. Yanking off the weights on his wrists, he hurls them with all his might towards the fence that prior attacked him. One cracks the wood harsh. The other sails over, and there's the sound of breaking glass. He recoils, but it isn't enough to derail his pleasure. The ones on his feet are kicked off, one after another. "Uh... so you want me to... bring back eggs?" He's just going to throw them at the neighbors, but what does Roland care? "Alright! Fine! I'll... steal them from Kyokugen! They don't deserve eggs!"
When you live in a particularly run down dojo (a constantly rebuild to maintain this state of being run down dojo), what's one more hole or accident?! Especially in the face of such an ascendant student!
A neighbor from the yard adjacent starts yelling incomprehensibly about being under attack and directing the family to the bomb shelter. They've always been quick to run into the bomb shelter, especially when the ice cream man ever bothers to drive along down this way. Despite the ambient screams of panic threatening to dampen the mood, Todoh continues undaunted.
"That's right!! You have learned well." The Sakazaki residence can go suck their lack of eggs. A little grin creeps on his face. Yes. Eggs, so his wife doesn't kill him dead and of which he will eventually throw at the neighbors for slights mostly perceived. Or the laundry, for not drying to his liking. Stupid laundry, it's in league with those Kyokugen losers, he's beginning to suspect.
"Now go!" He points dramatically. "Go show the world the power of Todoh!!" He clears his throat just a bit more to something slightly less dramatic. "And eggs. Get those eggs too. Yes."
Standing straight as a board, Roland bends at the waist, as low as he can manage without his swimming head sending him toppling to the ground. The first thing he's going to do is eat a lot, drink a lot, then sleep a lot. But after that, he can worry about eggs and preying on people in a time of crisis. Both of those are important, for differing reasons. "Yes, Master Todoh!" He then beelines right into the dojo. After much loud searching, he comes out with his hat, leather jacket, and a 'clean enough' shirt. With a final bow, he then flees along the street, running with the speed of a man quite aware Todoh might change his mind and make him do other, horrible things if he lingers too long. Finally, Roland is unleashed on the city! What horrors has the venerable practitioner set into motion?!
Log created on 18:02:57 03/14/2009 by Todoh, and last modified on 14:48:13 03/19/2009.