Turning Point, written for eriel_prime
This is for eriel_prime so, I hope you like it sweetie.
It's a little more contemplative than I usually go for, and (shockingly) it's not slash. go figure.
Disclaimer - I do not own these characters. If I did there'd be more boykissing.
Author's Note - Bold is thoughts.
Turning Point
R.J. has not been looking forward to this moment. It’s been drilled into his head from the day he demonstrated the capability to understand human speech that it is a momentous occasion, which takes place in a prestigious and near-sacred place.
He is to be on his best behavior.
He is not to speak out of turn.
He is not to mutter, fidget or shuffle, sneeze, burp, cough, laugh, or otherwise take away from the solemnity of the traditional ceremony.
Today is the day his father plans to claim him as a pupil in the Shark technique, or else.
R.J. takes a breath and straightens his tunic. The sky is lightening from navy to cerulean as the sun struggles to lift the night from its complacent spot on the horizon. When the light finally, inevitably wins the battle, R.J. is to be in the courtyard, facing Master Mao and the others currently without students. There are four of them, including his father. As was tradition, R.J. had met with all four for a weeklong period off training and introduction, to see if their styles would mesh.
Master Oth (the youngest of the group) was a calm, sweet tempered woman who had originated the difficult Sloth technique, which looked slow and easily beaten, right up to the moment it knocked you on your ass. R.J. liked the woman, who insisted on being called Jennifer, and who was very nearly impossible to phase. He thought she’d be good friend; but her slow, methodical style was never going to effectively work with his own frenetic energy.
Master Key on the other hand was older than his father, and (and R.J. could hardly believe such a thing existed) even more stubborn. While the strong kicks and blows that were a trademark of the Mule style were appealing to learn, R.J. didn’t see a harmonious meeting of the minds with the grey-headed master who specialized in them.
Which left his father, and Master Swoop.
His father whom he’s lived with for 18 years; and R.J. loves him, he really does. But his father is… well… restricted in his thoughts. R.J. has been drilled in the Shark technique since he was little, and he’s gone through it with an often silent (sometimes not) lack of enthusiasm.
It would be better, he thinks, as he makes his way into the courtyard, if I hadn’t grown up seeing what it looks like when you really love what you’re doing.
But he has.
His father truly loves the Shark technique and the animal that he embodies. And R.J. wants that! He wants to feel the pulse of a fully realized animal spirit, one that he embraces and embodies entirely. He wants, he needs to know how it feels to be himself, whoever that is.
And he wishes he could make his father understand that that is the most profound lesson his father has ever taught him. He’s shown R.J. everyday the pure joy of cohesion with a spirit animal, and if R.J. knows one thing it’s that he will never find that joy in the Shark technique.
A gong rings out, and R.J. straightens a little further. The masters file single file into the courtyard Master Mao at the rear. The others form a line in front of and across from R.J. Master Mao remains behind at the top of the staircase. The four of them study R.J. and R.J. studies them in return.
Masters Oth, and Key are both calm; secure in the knowledge that they will not be ending the day with a mew student to train.
His father is barely holding back his smugness at finally getting his son through basic, and he stands shoulders back secure in his own convictions of how the day will end.
Swoop looks straight at R.J., and R.J. stares back at his own reflection in the flat black sunglasses. He looks young, and a little nervous. He looks like a boy about to become a man.
Master Mao opens his mouth, and the words roll out through the breaking dawn. R.J. listens for his cue, and does not meet his father’s eyes.
Thank you for your time.
It's a little more contemplative than I usually go for, and (shockingly) it's not slash. go figure.
Disclaimer - I do not own these characters. If I did there'd be more boykissing.
Author's Note - Bold is thoughts.
Turning Point
R.J. has not been looking forward to this moment. It’s been drilled into his head from the day he demonstrated the capability to understand human speech that it is a momentous occasion, which takes place in a prestigious and near-sacred place.
He is to be on his best behavior.
He is not to speak out of turn.
He is not to mutter, fidget or shuffle, sneeze, burp, cough, laugh, or otherwise take away from the solemnity of the traditional ceremony.
Today is the day his father plans to claim him as a pupil in the Shark technique, or else.
R.J. takes a breath and straightens his tunic. The sky is lightening from navy to cerulean as the sun struggles to lift the night from its complacent spot on the horizon. When the light finally, inevitably wins the battle, R.J. is to be in the courtyard, facing Master Mao and the others currently without students. There are four of them, including his father. As was tradition, R.J. had met with all four for a weeklong period off training and introduction, to see if their styles would mesh.
Master Oth (the youngest of the group) was a calm, sweet tempered woman who had originated the difficult Sloth technique, which looked slow and easily beaten, right up to the moment it knocked you on your ass. R.J. liked the woman, who insisted on being called Jennifer, and who was very nearly impossible to phase. He thought she’d be good friend; but her slow, methodical style was never going to effectively work with his own frenetic energy.
Master Key on the other hand was older than his father, and (and R.J. could hardly believe such a thing existed) even more stubborn. While the strong kicks and blows that were a trademark of the Mule style were appealing to learn, R.J. didn’t see a harmonious meeting of the minds with the grey-headed master who specialized in them.
Which left his father, and Master Swoop.
His father whom he’s lived with for 18 years; and R.J. loves him, he really does. But his father is… well… restricted in his thoughts. R.J. has been drilled in the Shark technique since he was little, and he’s gone through it with an often silent (sometimes not) lack of enthusiasm.
It would be better, he thinks, as he makes his way into the courtyard, if I hadn’t grown up seeing what it looks like when you really love what you’re doing.
But he has.
His father truly loves the Shark technique and the animal that he embodies. And R.J. wants that! He wants to feel the pulse of a fully realized animal spirit, one that he embraces and embodies entirely. He wants, he needs to know how it feels to be himself, whoever that is.
And he wishes he could make his father understand that that is the most profound lesson his father has ever taught him. He’s shown R.J. everyday the pure joy of cohesion with a spirit animal, and if R.J. knows one thing it’s that he will never find that joy in the Shark technique.
A gong rings out, and R.J. straightens a little further. The masters file single file into the courtyard Master Mao at the rear. The others form a line in front of and across from R.J. Master Mao remains behind at the top of the staircase. The four of them study R.J. and R.J. studies them in return.
Masters Oth, and Key are both calm; secure in the knowledge that they will not be ending the day with a mew student to train.
His father is barely holding back his smugness at finally getting his son through basic, and he stands shoulders back secure in his own convictions of how the day will end.
Swoop looks straight at R.J., and R.J. stares back at his own reflection in the flat black sunglasses. He looks young, and a little nervous. He looks like a boy about to become a man.
Master Mao opens his mouth, and the words roll out through the breaking dawn. R.J. listens for his cue, and does not meet his father’s eyes.
Thank you for your time.