1 The Outsider [Toshiko/Kill Enabled/Private] Thu May 14, 2015 1:40 am
Yngol
D-rank
Rise and shine. The day was young and there was much that needed to be done. Yngol was beginning to realize that he wasn’t even remotely close to achieving his goals. Each day he would look around himself and see those much faster, much stronger, much more powerful than himself. It was rather pathetic really. People much younger than himself, more inherently talented in the arts of the shinobi. It didn’t matter. Training was all that mattered at the moment. All these who were greater than himself right now, all those who seemed to think so highly of themselves, even when these egos were based off of unfounded claims, they would feel his wroth in the future. Where they were and where he was didn’t mean a single thing. All that would matter is the future when they would find themselves six feet under, and Yngol sips mead from their hollowed out skulls while songs are sung of his triumph.
He looked around himself, displeased with his surroundings. None of it was suitable for a man of his ambitions. A warrior does not sleep on the floor of a wooden fisherman’s hut in the middle of nowhere. His house was an embarrassment. The wood was rotting, the roof had holes, the walls were peeling, everything was just wrong. Matter it did not. They would remember how his house looks in the future. Every man needs a starting point, some start further behind than others, but all that really matters is how they finish, if at all. Yngol smiled to himself as he pictured his future, almost drooling from the anticipation. The smile was wiped away soon enough however, no time for such things. Thinking about being great wouldn’t get him there. The only thing that could is hard work and a whole fuck ton of training. Something Yngol was more than willing to commit.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Yngol pulled out the crudely carved wooden mug from his cupboard. As he filled it with a strong brown ale, his eyes turned to his storage cupboard. There wasn’t much food to choose from in there at all. Some eggs, a bit of meat here and there that was tinkering on the edge of going bad, dry and crusty bread; the same as always. He walked over to the cupboard, pulling out as many eggs as he could carry in his hand, and grabbing the loaf of bread along with it. There was a long day ahead of him, he would need as much energy as he could possibly get. He cracked the eggs into a pan, frying them up, and spread some butter on a couple slices of bread. A pretty poor meal, but there wasn’t much else he could afford. The Commoner’s breakfast was wolfed down as fast as his throat would allow, and swiftly washed down with his mug of ale. At least he had that in his life. Yngol’s situation would be a whole lot more grim if the alcohol as out of the equation.
Outside, the air held a heavy stench of garbage, bird shit and rotten food. Living on a remote island, there wasn’t exactly a landfill around, and no garbage collectors to come and get his waste off of his hands. Yngol was forced to make weekly trips to the mainland to offload all of his rubbish. Unfortunately, he had missed his boat ride this week, and was forced to live with the thick scent of household waste. Again, this only served as more motivation to train. Yngol wasn’t dumb. He saw every single negative thing around himself and took careful note of it all. These things, everything that pissed Yngol off about his current situation, he would remember them when he was great. He would smile upon remembering them as he sits in the Great Halls of Valhalla. All of these things pissed Yngol off, and that was great, because being aggravated can easily be transformed into a state of white hot fury, and fury was the key to strength. A man is at his strongest when he’s in survival mode, when the adrenaline is pumping and the rage takes over the body. That is when a man is truly undefeatable.
Not even a weapon. Yngol didn’t even own a weapon to train himself with. He wasn’t about to start using his fists like an idiot? Why slam your fists into a man when you can hack him to pieces. His first weapon had been lost on a boat ride, and currently resided some place on the floor of the ocean. He couldn’t afford another weapon, those things didn’t cheap, and blacksmiths were ripping people off left and right charging ridiculous amounts for steel. Luckily he could create these things himself, using his steel chakra, but it was rather draining and times and quite inconvenient. It would have to do for the time being, money was scarce and so were jobs, shortcuts had to be took. Hindrances were no worry at all for the time being, it wasn’t a matter of life or death, it was a matter of toughening himself up so that when these life or death situations come along, he’d be ready. Having obstacles in the path make people work harder, and when people work harder results begin to pour in. Yngol would thank Odin for these problems in the future.
He stared at the pile of heavy logs that lay before him. It was a rather crude way of bulking up, but there wasn’t much equipment about so Yngol had to make do was what he had. He lay on his back and lifted as many logs as he possibly could, bench pressing them and pumping out as many reps as he could. His arms seared with pain, the universal signal that you’re working out properly. Pain translates to progress. The sweat dripped from his forehead, and all of his other sweat glands, soaking all the way through his shirt. The workout was only just getting started. Yngol pulled out his old and ragged backpack and filled it with as many heavy cumbersome rocks as he possibly could. He got off to a run around the field that lay in front of his house, dipping in and out of the trees, breaking into full sprints at times. The workout was exhausting, but it would all be worth it when the time comes to crush all of the foes that lay before him. Yngol dropped the pack off of his back and took a few gulps of water, catching his breath. He wasn’t even close to being done yet. There was so much further he could push himself, much more blood, toil and tears to shed.
[WC 1127]
Last edited by Yngol on Wed May 20, 2015 2:23 pm; edited 1 time in total