Post by Jie Shan Lan Dian on May 19, 2016 8:24:29 GMT -5
(Thread PL: 181,319)
Jie Shan laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind idly wandering. For once, the young hybrid had a few moments to himself, free from any responsibility or training. It felt… strange, like it was not meant to be, as if he was out of place. His entire world had been nonstop work for the past few months, he felt like this should not be, like he should not be able to rest. His only reprieve was typically sleep, and even that was restless. In his dreams, he was chased by a whip wielding giant or he saw visions of atrocities that he had once witnessed long ago.
Jie Shan chuckled slightly, holding his face as he lapped, his eyes shut tight. Damn, he thought, he was so damaged. He felt like he needed to see a doctor, someone who could patch together the scarred tissue of his brain and fix it. Fix it like it was some kind of machine. But he knew well enough that the wounds on the inside were the hardest to fix. Jie Shan had had bones broken and flesh rendered, but they healed well enough. The healing tanks of their time proved to be a godsend in that regard. Now, people could bounce back from crippling or even fatal injuries. Hell, thought Jie Shan, he’d even seen limbs restored, as if they were good as new. Technology was amazing.
But no one had built anything for a broken mind. The wounds on the inside went unhealed, untreated. The pangs of pain occasionally shot through his heart and mind. His entire life, something had been breaking down the young halfblood. He supposed that it started with his father, Gai Lan Dian. A hard man, by anyone’s account, and he wanted a strong son. And Jie Shan was supposed to be that son, forged in the fires of his father’s ambition and meant to be displayed proudly, like some kind of trophy.
Jie Shan’s earliest memories were of his father. And they were not good ones. No, they were far from good. He could pick few fond memories out from his time with his father. Even now, his mind struggled to think of any. Jie Shan grit his teeth. His father was not the kind of man to make good memories. Memories, yes. But never anything good. At least nothing good for Jie Shan. Legacy, thought the halfblood, what a load of shit.
Even now as Jie Shan laid in his bed, he could close his eyes and remember those days clear as crystal. His hands gripped around his sheets, his knuckles white with the tension. Jie Shan felt his heart pound intensely, like the beat of a haphazard drum. Yes, he remembered. He remembered as if it were yesterday.
…
Jie Shan ducked the blow, falling to his knees as he stumbled under the fist of his father. The young boy, maybe three or four years old, scrambled, trying to get to his feet before his father was on him once again. “No!” Roared Gai Lan Dian, “That’s wrong! Your footwork is all wrong!”
In a flash, the man drove his foot into Jie Shan’s back. The halfblood child went plummeting to the floor, his face smacking into the hard tile as he fell. Pain shot through his face, through his jaw. Tears welled at his eyes. But the man he called Father did not care. Gai Lan Dian stood over his son, pushing down with his foot, as if he were trying to force Jie Shan through the ground. The boy felt something in him cracking.
“Father!” He cried, “Please! Stop! It hurts!”
“No! Do you think that your enemies will stop just because ‘it hurts’?” Growled Gai as he somehow pushed even harder down on Jie Shan. His breaths grew shallow, panicked. It was getting hard to breathe, it was as if he could not get enough air in his lungs, no matter how hard he tried. He cast his arms behind his back, trying to claw at his father’s leg, but he could not.
“Insolent whelp,” murmured his father as Jie Shan struggled. For the smallest moment, he lifted his leg. But immediately he brought it back down on his son. The force of the blow racked Jie Shan’s body. He felt as if he was going to vomit. And he probably would have if he had anything in his stomach.
Finally, his father stepped back. “Your footing,” growled the man, “Improve it or I will give you worse next time. Another man would not hesitate to kill you after such a mistake. Give thanks that I am your father, and not a man here for your head.” Jie Shan slowly rose to his feet and pulled up his fists, almost instinctively switching into a defensive stance. But it was only a facade. His will to fight was long gone by this point. His hands trembled, as did his lips, as tears dripped down his cheeks one by one.
His father smirked. “What’s the matter, Jie Shan?” Mocked his father, “Are you crying? Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? Here, let daddy make it all better.” His father spread his arms and approached Jie Shan. The halfblood’s eyes went wide and he backed up, shaking his head wildly. But it was not enough. His father was on him, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing him in a death hug, as if he were wringing the life from him like water from a wet rag. Jie Shan tried to scream, but the words got caught in his throat as he was choked.
An eternity passed and Gai Lan Dian finally tossed his son aside. Jie Shan sailed through the air and crashed into a wall. Something else cracked on impact, and he fell to the floor like a ragdoll. His father stood over him, looking down on him, his eyes cold, but burning. Like cold, smokeless fire. “Your footing,” repeated Gai Lan Dian, “You will improve it. I am not raising an oaf. I am raising a warrior. Halfblood you may be, but a Saiyan still. In my day, we sent children your age off to strange planets so that they could decimate them as Oozaru.”
Gai Lan Dian took a knee, so that he was closer to his son. The man stared into his son’s eyes, and Jie Shan could not look away from fear. “Perhaps, I’ll do the same for you,” whispered Gai, “The Alliance doesn’t do that. But who said it had to be for the Alliance? It could just be a way for me to get rid of you. Would you like that, Jie Shan? Far away from home, alone on some strange planet. You’d probably die. Painfully, too. There are plenty of strange creatures out there that would do you harm, eat you right up.”
His father drew his face even closer. Jie Shan could see it in every detail. The short black hair that fell into his father’s face, the fine black stubble that marked the beginning of a beard. The crooked, once-broken nose. And those deathly eyes. It was the face of fear itself.
“Would you like that, Jie Shan?” Whispered his father once more.
“N-no,” whimpered Jie Shan, “Please, Father, don’t send me away…”
“Improve your damn footing, then,” snarled Gai Lan Dian.
And with that, Gai Lan Dian rose and left the room, turning his back on the one he called a son. Tears now coming down his face in full force, Jie Shan laid his head against the cold tile and tried to sleep, through the pain, the hunger, and the sorrow.
…
Back in his bed, Jie Shan trembled, white as a ghost. Yes, he remembered. He remembered everything.
There were tears in his eyes.
(I'd like zeni for this, please!)
Jie Shan laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind idly wandering. For once, the young hybrid had a few moments to himself, free from any responsibility or training. It felt… strange, like it was not meant to be, as if he was out of place. His entire world had been nonstop work for the past few months, he felt like this should not be, like he should not be able to rest. His only reprieve was typically sleep, and even that was restless. In his dreams, he was chased by a whip wielding giant or he saw visions of atrocities that he had once witnessed long ago.
Jie Shan chuckled slightly, holding his face as he lapped, his eyes shut tight. Damn, he thought, he was so damaged. He felt like he needed to see a doctor, someone who could patch together the scarred tissue of his brain and fix it. Fix it like it was some kind of machine. But he knew well enough that the wounds on the inside were the hardest to fix. Jie Shan had had bones broken and flesh rendered, but they healed well enough. The healing tanks of their time proved to be a godsend in that regard. Now, people could bounce back from crippling or even fatal injuries. Hell, thought Jie Shan, he’d even seen limbs restored, as if they were good as new. Technology was amazing.
But no one had built anything for a broken mind. The wounds on the inside went unhealed, untreated. The pangs of pain occasionally shot through his heart and mind. His entire life, something had been breaking down the young halfblood. He supposed that it started with his father, Gai Lan Dian. A hard man, by anyone’s account, and he wanted a strong son. And Jie Shan was supposed to be that son, forged in the fires of his father’s ambition and meant to be displayed proudly, like some kind of trophy.
Jie Shan’s earliest memories were of his father. And they were not good ones. No, they were far from good. He could pick few fond memories out from his time with his father. Even now, his mind struggled to think of any. Jie Shan grit his teeth. His father was not the kind of man to make good memories. Memories, yes. But never anything good. At least nothing good for Jie Shan. Legacy, thought the halfblood, what a load of shit.
Even now as Jie Shan laid in his bed, he could close his eyes and remember those days clear as crystal. His hands gripped around his sheets, his knuckles white with the tension. Jie Shan felt his heart pound intensely, like the beat of a haphazard drum. Yes, he remembered. He remembered as if it were yesterday.
…
Jie Shan ducked the blow, falling to his knees as he stumbled under the fist of his father. The young boy, maybe three or four years old, scrambled, trying to get to his feet before his father was on him once again. “No!” Roared Gai Lan Dian, “That’s wrong! Your footwork is all wrong!”
In a flash, the man drove his foot into Jie Shan’s back. The halfblood child went plummeting to the floor, his face smacking into the hard tile as he fell. Pain shot through his face, through his jaw. Tears welled at his eyes. But the man he called Father did not care. Gai Lan Dian stood over his son, pushing down with his foot, as if he were trying to force Jie Shan through the ground. The boy felt something in him cracking.
“Father!” He cried, “Please! Stop! It hurts!”
“No! Do you think that your enemies will stop just because ‘it hurts’?” Growled Gai as he somehow pushed even harder down on Jie Shan. His breaths grew shallow, panicked. It was getting hard to breathe, it was as if he could not get enough air in his lungs, no matter how hard he tried. He cast his arms behind his back, trying to claw at his father’s leg, but he could not.
“Insolent whelp,” murmured his father as Jie Shan struggled. For the smallest moment, he lifted his leg. But immediately he brought it back down on his son. The force of the blow racked Jie Shan’s body. He felt as if he was going to vomit. And he probably would have if he had anything in his stomach.
Finally, his father stepped back. “Your footing,” growled the man, “Improve it or I will give you worse next time. Another man would not hesitate to kill you after such a mistake. Give thanks that I am your father, and not a man here for your head.” Jie Shan slowly rose to his feet and pulled up his fists, almost instinctively switching into a defensive stance. But it was only a facade. His will to fight was long gone by this point. His hands trembled, as did his lips, as tears dripped down his cheeks one by one.
His father smirked. “What’s the matter, Jie Shan?” Mocked his father, “Are you crying? Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? Here, let daddy make it all better.” His father spread his arms and approached Jie Shan. The halfblood’s eyes went wide and he backed up, shaking his head wildly. But it was not enough. His father was on him, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing him in a death hug, as if he were wringing the life from him like water from a wet rag. Jie Shan tried to scream, but the words got caught in his throat as he was choked.
An eternity passed and Gai Lan Dian finally tossed his son aside. Jie Shan sailed through the air and crashed into a wall. Something else cracked on impact, and he fell to the floor like a ragdoll. His father stood over him, looking down on him, his eyes cold, but burning. Like cold, smokeless fire. “Your footing,” repeated Gai Lan Dian, “You will improve it. I am not raising an oaf. I am raising a warrior. Halfblood you may be, but a Saiyan still. In my day, we sent children your age off to strange planets so that they could decimate them as Oozaru.”
Gai Lan Dian took a knee, so that he was closer to his son. The man stared into his son’s eyes, and Jie Shan could not look away from fear. “Perhaps, I’ll do the same for you,” whispered Gai, “The Alliance doesn’t do that. But who said it had to be for the Alliance? It could just be a way for me to get rid of you. Would you like that, Jie Shan? Far away from home, alone on some strange planet. You’d probably die. Painfully, too. There are plenty of strange creatures out there that would do you harm, eat you right up.”
His father drew his face even closer. Jie Shan could see it in every detail. The short black hair that fell into his father’s face, the fine black stubble that marked the beginning of a beard. The crooked, once-broken nose. And those deathly eyes. It was the face of fear itself.
“Would you like that, Jie Shan?” Whispered his father once more.
“N-no,” whimpered Jie Shan, “Please, Father, don’t send me away…”
“Improve your damn footing, then,” snarled Gai Lan Dian.
And with that, Gai Lan Dian rose and left the room, turning his back on the one he called a son. Tears now coming down his face in full force, Jie Shan laid his head against the cold tile and tried to sleep, through the pain, the hunger, and the sorrow.
…
Back in his bed, Jie Shan trembled, white as a ghost. Yes, he remembered. He remembered everything.
There were tears in his eyes.
(I'd like zeni for this, please!)
