V5 Incline 44: Test-Taker Larishazza

"Alright, Nin, now I just want you to run and jump for this one, like this." I explain, taking off the flappier, wind-catching parts of my outfit and I take off down the designated path. No water magic helps me this time, and I jump, flipping through the air because I enjoy doing them so much. And, I cleanly land on my feet without a thudding sound.

Though, I'm more than happy to add a few sounds as I take on a few extra hops, non-stop waves to my friend along the way!

I go on and on, hopping on over to a solid construct of magic and I lounge on it, no care for how wet it makes me. All so I can watch my friend as he has his go at it. A somewhat serious demeanour takes me over and I watch as he runs down the strip of artificial land. However, he's extremely awkward in doing so, like he never learned how to run...

No.

He keeps slowing down whenever he reaches a certain point in his momentum, like he can't control the force of his legs. A point that's always marked by him jumping in his strides, practically flying for the most part. He keeps doing it, going to a standing stop and then back to a running point... But not in the way it *should* be done, indisputably so. He's not running... He's stringing bursts of speed together like a kitchen disaster.

He can jump quite normally, however, that much we've established, finesse lacking or no.

"If you don't mind me asking, Nin, where did you learn to control your magic?" I ask, getting up out of my chair, back dripping with magic as I dismiss my arcane construct. Concern fills my eyes instantly as his mood sours. It sours in a way all of his previous outbursts and displays haven't shown...

Nin?

"I couldn't do magic until I woke up in a nest filled with..." he struggles to explain, and he gives up, gesturing at himself.

"You couldn't do magic until you were born...?" I say, completely confused by the implication here. You can't just change species, even those who do learn trans-mutative abilities like dragons still bear the hallmarks of what they are truly. His answer is not making much sense at all for the moment.

But, with the way he's shaking his head from side-to-side, a harsh grimace on his face... I'm wrong, too. He's having a lot of trouble coming up with an answer, or, perhaps he's struggling with figuring out if I will accept his answer? No, I can't have him thinking that at all!

I approach him quicker, intent on making it clear that he doesn't need to explain himself if he doesn't want to. I trust him for the moment, I've no reason not to. We live on a wonderful planet, filled with impossible wonders. Gods and goddesses, our god-mountain was swallowed by a slug whereas the Wind-Mountain spent nearly its whole life asleep!

He doesn't have to explain himself if he doesn't want to...

"I was not always a bug, you know..." he mumbles as I tilt my head slightly, more so to aim my ear the right way, "I was once just a normal man working the usual time to feed himself and then one day I met this little thing that shot me and then I woke up in a cave where something tried to eat me and then BOOM!"

I listen carefully, watching him as he just gets it all out in one big, tiring go.

"I... I think I understand." I softly speak as he goes quiet, his tears coming back.

"No you don't... How could you!? How could you understand what it means to know something that bad happened? To have your body slowly turn into a monster to the point your friend has to kill you so you don't hurt others!? Only to then be brought back as this because of some nonsense with gods..." he gets out just as quickly, even louder as the crying comes out in full.

"Don't worry, I won't laugh at you or insult you." I say to him, my soft smile never wavering as I pull him close to hug him tight, and rock him back and forth. Time passes slowly, and, as a good length of it passes, I loosen up. Finger gun at the ready to squirt water at his face. He flinches at it, but, he smiles, if only a little. His feet carry him away, putting distance back between us.

"So... Uh, Lari... Why do you keep being so nice to me...? Surely you must have heard about what I was before this morning? I have been here for more than a month at the very least!" he asks, demands. His arms and hands high up in the air as other frustrations bubble out.

"Because I don't like the idea of living so close to someone I could help but did not." I say to him, my face flat and straight with severity and seriousness. But... What I said... It's the wrong thing. It sets him off.

"Then were you all the other days!? HM!? WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I WAS BEING TOLD TO KILL MYSELF!? WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I WAS BEING SHOT AT!? WHERE WERE YOU!?" he roars, stomping closer as he works himself closer to unabetted rage. A rage I intend to bring him out of by... Just holding his hand, a thumb going along the knuckle.

"I had been busy, I was off Academy grounds for the most part. It's the important kind of busy, family kind. But, now, I will only be busy with you." I tell him, the most honest smile I can muster accompanying my words.

On its own, though, it's not enough to get past his growling exterior. All I can do is keep the smile despite the anger, despite the rage. All with eyes I never let show anything other than joy and safety, eyes that never leave the intense stare of his own. His head comes closer, still growling and snarling. His jaw clicks ever so close, a full view of all those teeth he has.

Thin, plentiful and very sharp, clearly intended for shredding someone bloody.

"Can we get back to the training...?" he abruptly asks, a heavy sigh going through him as he just... Changes moods.

"Don't do that!" I firmly tell him, a flash of anger coming from me.

"Don't do what?" he asks back in agitation, picking up on that momentary loss of control.

"Don't... Just suddenly switch your moods like that. Don't tighten it closed like a pot full of boiling water. Leave the lid open, let the water out." I elaborate, simmering down myself as I raise a hand to his cheek so I can rub away at it, all while he maintains a strong glare.

A snort bursts out of him, and he strides away, shoulders high with tension as his breathing disrupts the emptiness of the chamber.

"The training?" he impatiently brings up as I linger, watching him as he continues to seethe with all that... Hatred. That anger.