actual shoujo hobo allen walker. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
debtor) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-01-06 11:14 pm
debtor) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-01-06 11:14 pm
Entry tags:
(open)
Date & Time: Early afternoon, January 7th.
Location: The Hold; training facilities.
Characters: Allen Walker (debtor) and YOU
Summary: Allen Walker levels up! Also another training facility log, if you feel like doing some training.
Warnings: PUNCHING INANIMATE OBJECTS and shounen. And training. And character death (the punching bag.)
[From opening until lunch (and oftentimes after lunch, sometimes until closing), six days a week (sometimes seven), some kid with white hair and a bizarre facial scar can be found in the Hold's gymnasium, kicking and punching various objects and performing series of acrobatic feats. Like many in Exsilium, he comes from a world where his training keeps him alive; here, it keeps him grounded. Gives him something to work towards and focus on, in a life that's become abruptly, and painfully, directionless.
For some time, he tried training in private with his weapon from home, but lately, he's begun splitting his attention between that and the weapon he'd received from the Initiative. A month ago, he'd picked the pair of armored gauntlets from the armory because they had appeared non-lethal, but they'd also appeared unwieldy. Which was fine, because he didn't think he'd really use them. But now that he is using them, he's finding they seem to somehow fit more comfortably with each passing day, and punches are thrown more easily.
Today, dressed in a black long sleeve shirt and sweatpants, with a leather glove over his left hand and a gauntlet on his right, he's focusing his attention on a punching bag, knocking it back with quick, powerful strikes. (For anyone who might notice these things, it's obvious that he's had a lot of practice, but it's also obvious that he hasn't had any actual formal training in any particular style of fighting. He's just kinda whaling on it.)
And then his right fist smacks into the bag and rips it right off its chains and sends it flying back into the opposite wall with a heavy, resounding crash. It bursts open upon impact, spilling its sandy innards all over the floor.]
Ah...
[Whoops.
Hopefully no one was standing in the way!]
--
[Or, alternately, you could run into him at any point during his training routine; or come by later and find a kid, possibly with sand in his hair and dusting his shirt, sitting cross-legged in the corner of the facilities, eating a sandwich and making a face at it. If you'd just like to chat.]
Location: The Hold; training facilities.
Characters: Allen Walker (
debtor) and YOUSummary: Allen Walker levels up! Also another training facility log, if you feel like doing some training.
Warnings: PUNCHING INANIMATE OBJECTS and shounen. And training. And character death (the punching bag.)
[From opening until lunch (and oftentimes after lunch, sometimes until closing), six days a week (sometimes seven), some kid with white hair and a bizarre facial scar can be found in the Hold's gymnasium, kicking and punching various objects and performing series of acrobatic feats. Like many in Exsilium, he comes from a world where his training keeps him alive; here, it keeps him grounded. Gives him something to work towards and focus on, in a life that's become abruptly, and painfully, directionless.
For some time, he tried training in private with his weapon from home, but lately, he's begun splitting his attention between that and the weapon he'd received from the Initiative. A month ago, he'd picked the pair of armored gauntlets from the armory because they had appeared non-lethal, but they'd also appeared unwieldy. Which was fine, because he didn't think he'd really use them. But now that he is using them, he's finding they seem to somehow fit more comfortably with each passing day, and punches are thrown more easily.
Today, dressed in a black long sleeve shirt and sweatpants, with a leather glove over his left hand and a gauntlet on his right, he's focusing his attention on a punching bag, knocking it back with quick, powerful strikes. (For anyone who might notice these things, it's obvious that he's had a lot of practice, but it's also obvious that he hasn't had any actual formal training in any particular style of fighting. He's just kinda whaling on it.)
And then his right fist smacks into the bag and rips it right off its chains and sends it flying back into the opposite wall with a heavy, resounding crash. It bursts open upon impact, spilling its sandy innards all over the floor.]
Ah...
[Whoops.
Hopefully no one was standing in the way!]
--
[Or, alternately, you could run into him at any point during his training routine; or come by later and find a kid, possibly with sand in his hair and dusting his shirt, sitting cross-legged in the corner of the facilities, eating a sandwich and making a face at it. If you'd just like to chat.]
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[Yet the kid seems to think it's that simple, and he seems so sure. That it's just...]
[After staring for a moment perplexed, Zelos for the first time since coming here? Cracks up laughing at all of this. It wasn't even that funny, nor is it really a snide laugh- just you reach a certain point with stress and you can't help but find anything funny]
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He can't tell if Zelos is laughing because he thinks the answer was stupid or weirdly hysterical for some other, unknown reason.
Definitely never heard the guy laugh before, though.]
Kaneis?
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You are so weird.
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But he smiles at that.]
So I've heard.
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Yeah, well whatever.
C'mon, the Initiative will be by and see the damage any time now. Let's make ourselves scarce and get some food.
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[FOOD YES.]
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How about Mexican food?
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Sure, but whenever a girl wants to eat with me in this place it's always burgers and more burgers. It's a sandwich with charred beef, it's not that incredible.
What's Mexican?
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Aa— Mexican food's from Mexico. There's rice with delicious seasonings, and meat wrapped in tortilla bread, and chips with tomato salsa... It's a little different here, but it's still tasty!
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Hm, sounds pretty good. How's it different here?
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That or they're just making do with whatever you can get out here.
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Over fourteen hundred.
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Damn. You'd be nothing but dust by now.
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Yes...
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Hm. Freaky.
[Unfortunately, Zelos is not that sort. He starts walking towards the entrance of the training hall]
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[Besides it's hardly rotting by now, all the flesh would've rotten off years ago goddess Allen don't you know anything]