Ok, so consider this the antithesis (in some fashion) to my upcoming Archer boi, who'll be a more realistic take of the Goody Two Shoes shonen protagonist. I suppose this'll be a realistic take on the Unrelenting Evil shonen antagonist.
I don't have too many plans for this (sans abilities), so let's just see where this goes, hm?
Alright, here we go.
Motion by Rathma
Warnings: Mentions/graphic depictions of gore, slavery, assault, profanity, rape, sexual abuse, underage sex, drug and/or alcohol abuse, mind manipulation, etcetera. Do not message me complaining about this stuff. This is your one warning: this story will be dark, depressing, and depraved. It's sort of my trademark; even my "light" stuff is gritty compared to your average fanfic.
Prologue
Ashura Irma never stopped moving. As a child, he was quite fond of the birds. Their unmatched freedom-of-self was something he craved, yet knew he would never have. After all, how could one call themselves free when even the frailest or the fattest of the children could intimidate and bully him into doing whatever they liked?
Ashura moved, he moved like the animals. Every day, he would climb the trees, jump off, and attempt to fly like the birds. He failed, of course, and as he continued, over and over, he was constantly reminded of the fact the his wishes were meaningless, his desires irrelevant, and his power nonexistent.
So he moved like the cats. He ran, and jumped, and climbed as fast as he could, but he could never quite replicate the dexterous, perfectly balanced and effortless darts and leaps of the cats he saw. It was heart breaking, in a way, that he couldn't have the thing he most desired: freedom of movement. All day, as he was beaten and abused by his relatives and his peers, he wished he could move as they, the animals did. But his desires never came to fruition. The things he felt closest to, no, the only things he felt any connection to, the animals, the earth, the trees, the wind, he could never replicate, never form a bond with them. And it shattered Ashura.
Soon enough, he simply stopped. Stopped it all. He let the world dole out it's cold desires and beat him down. He let the bullies beat on and abuse him, for that was all he was good for in the eyes of the universe.
Soon enough, he stopped this too. It was simply egotistical of him, he realized, to assume that he or anybody else meant anything in the grand scheme of things. All of his lacerations and his bruises and his shortcomings weren't the will of the world as he previously saw it, but the indifference of it. So, in rage at this newfound truth, and moved again. His blood moved as his legs did, and he ran through life, determined to make his own luck, his own feats, his own strength, if this so-cold world would not give it to him.
He met somebody soon after, a young girl named Allison, and together they moved, and spurred on by his new resolve, he ceased letting anybody and everybody pick on him. So as he climbed, he ran, he pushed, and he lifted, he decided that once again, he would mimic the animals he so envied. This time, he mimicked the common dog, and he bit and slashed and tore at the cruel children, and even his relatives. Oh, they didn't take well to it, but Ashura, for all the beatings he may have stood by and let happen, had always been exceptionally strong. Eventually, they just left him alone. He made for himself, and he was happy this way.
Soon enough, he started hanging around Allison's home without her knowledge, due to the admittedly illogical and unfounded feeling that she was in danger, that he must protect her. After all, she was his, was she not? His friend, his family, his love, his obsession. And nobody dared trifle with Ashura Irma's belongings.
So he moved, into her home. Through the window, mimicking the monkey as he climbed the rather rundown house. And he saw it.
The slap. As Allison's father slapped her, hard enough to fall back into the wall with a distinctive purple welt on her cheek, Ashura blacked out momentarily. When he came to, he heard multiple loud, consecutive 'Ping!' sounds, but he dismissed it for the more pressing matter of the spiked tree limbs that seemed to have arisen from beneath the house, spearing through Allison and her father in nearly every part of their body that the wooden spears could fit.
And for the first time in the last few years, what felt like an eternity, he did it.
Ashura stopped.
A/N:
It's not perfect, of course. I'm not a perfect writer and I've always found the beginnings hard to write, but I hoped you enjoyed it. I'm open for suggestions and corrections. I'll even add whole paragraphs if somebody suggests something good enough. But overall, I think it's a decent prologue.
Please correct any grammatical/spelling/formatting errors (or inconsistencies) so I can correct them. Thanks.
There's quite a hefty amount of foreshadowing here. Make of that what you will.
Gamer stuff (and the actual story) starts next chapter, which'll be out whenever I feel inspired or motivated to write. That's an issue for me (as can be seen with Impurities,) so follow, favorite, share, and review, please. I need the motivation.
Story recommendation of the day: Deicide by Sir Lucifer Morningstar. Really, anything by him, but this is his latest story (uploaded today!) so why not?
Later.
Rathma