A Humbling Day (Solo)

[Darren]

oocQuick self reflection thread. Just Darren showing his vulnerable side after the events have ended. Also a simple reminder for the future I can't do things like so. Training wheels are coming off basically. :/ As usual the day just couldn't go on it's set routine for the Vantha as it progressed. In the late afternoon a new concept sneaked into his head, as he took a break from his usual jog. "I'm getting old. Like...Cara old" he said aloud, the thought being spurned on by earlier events. Now the rush of memories dashing back to his head his eyes twitched with every painful encounter for the past month and so. Early on he got in a fight with Berus and later Stitch, the latter kicking him so hard in the chest that it felt like he broke a few ribs and before he was carted off to the hospital for three days straight. Thankfully Stitch was a decent fighter that knew how to hold back, so Darren was lucky and appreciative of the young blind man. Then a week later there were the Yukman, their rock hard exterior were dangerous enough for he hit them with so much force. Darren took another deep breath before continuing, he was just lying around leisurely in a mound of snow now looking up to the clear sky. He kept a stolid face when he recalled that even though he busted his hands up pretty well he opted to keep it to himself. He had to prove his worth to the village, to show them that he was just wasn't empty space parading around acting all superior for no reason. The recovery took awhile he had to tone it down for the massages for the next day or so using mostly his elbows to apply pressure, a process that prolonged the actual massages. He recalled the great joy it brought him when he was fully recovered and able to actually go all out when Fight Crew came out at the end of that week. A sad smile crept up to his face when he recalled the recovery period. All the frustration he had without more technical usage of his hands, he would usually just take a little more time sitting on his bed before he convinced himself not to do anything strenuous. I wouldn't try that again he thought sarcastically. And of course the day after going all out he had to get himself injured AGAIN. The day after was a day of routine, a happy normal thing that he was excited to get back into. He even had the lovely presence of Cara watching over him, his face curling up into a grin when he saw that she was taking him in. But...as fate would have it she was actually a mistress of pain for him, the two having a hot steamy episode before she tried ...something on him. Another magic that Darren didn't know of, one that had him and Cara feeling spent before she took her leave. He recalled as if a part of his soul was taken by her, the very thought now sending chills down his spine. An art which took my very being, made me feeble. The kiss of death could have been easily administered if she had done so. What was the point in all that? And what was the point of him being stubborn trying to resume training? "Am I really that enthused by this way of life?" he asked himself, as he recalled that he strained himself and was bedridden for the few days. His right fist was clenched as he pondered why he wished to get stronger so much, finally he loosened his grip as he repeated the same answer that has been drilled into his brain. "Yes I am. And you know why I am like this? Simply because I am better. And because the lesser beings must be put in their place." he explained to himself, he thought as he recalled the encounter with the Akalak. His left arm was blotchy at the end of the fight, and he treated it in secret. Nursing the bruises that incurred from the broken chair, his thoughts wandered back to the words he had said before. I really didn't felt that way he told himself, well not before I was taught flux, then it suddenly made so much sense to me. When he used it he felt akin to a god, a feeling that only leads to more and more of it's usage. At first like all wary practitioners he exercised caution and restraint, but as time went on he found himself using it more and more until he couldn't control it. He recalled the day he went all out with the flux, the inner demons in him finally prying themselves loose. He killed someone that day in the Northern Reaches, an older foreigner thought he was so funny while he was trying to make a mockery of him. The highwayman supplied a generous amount of insults and threats at the young would be hunter until he just couldn't take it anymore. Darren surprised him with a sudden grip on the man's arm and proceeded to pummel his face to a pulp. An eerie broad smile while he whittled the man's life away, the event stored and yet somewhat omitted from his memories. He woke up that later that day sleeping next to a tree with an impressive catch. A Dire moose of all things, sporting some minor bruising but a nasty huge hit down it's chest of all things. Unknown to him his other personality left him in mostly broken, his hands busted up, the muscles in his arms strained to the point of almost falling apart upon themselves, he finally felt it's after effects as he tried to get up. Falling face first in the snow he thought this was going to be the end of him but he soon realized he was already back at Avanthal, the local guard finding him and sending him to the hospital. The sudden pain, the feeling of helplessness, the tears shed that day sort of chastised Darren, he didn't ever want to be caught like that again. So over the years he developed the annoying, unrelenting will to never use flux to injuring someone seriously or to break them. That coupled with the desire to never show himself in pain proven to be a strenuous ordeal to try to force in his life. However, this was the path he was to take, the same that would cause the end of him. He moved his left hand off the sling he had been resting it on. He didn't want the others to see him like this.