Post by Misuji Mishima on Feb 15, 2019 11:35:15 GMT -6
From hundreds of feet, far off the ground, a lone figure practically bear-hugged the cloud-piercing spire. Known to some as the Mini Mastiff, the bull-necked figure had both the musculature and the fat to stay posted indefinitely. To his great consternation, he couldn't let himself do that. The young man instead tried for something much less intelligent.
"Bah! Again, I face monstrous challenge!"
He risked his life further, by continuing his harrowing ascent.
"I stop wasting air now."
The boy dared not breathe.
Instead, he heaved slowly, deliberately, as he scaled the side of the enormous erection. He saved his breath energy as best as he could. To fall thousands of feet would spell his demise, or at least very seriously shatter his spine. While his training was intense, it reminded constantly that gravity was a savage suzerain. His stubby fingers remained strong, even as calloused flesh clashed incessantly against bare stone with every step he took. Each time he released the hold of one loose stone, and moved his hand further upwards to grip another rickety rock, he could feel his the immense muscle beneath his flabby flesh tense in both fear and excitement.
He was adapting well.
He just wasn't sure if that was enough.
The thickset lad did not need to climb to the top of the tower once more, not technically, at least. He had already accomplished that particularly daunting task previously, in his last bid to meet that elusive figure that his freshly formed friend Myu was so fond of. So why was he cutting his teeth again, by taking the long, scenic route to the top of the lookout? Because he was Misuji Mishima, and Misuji Mishima did not take shortcuts.
He also didn't know how to fly.
That may have been a larger factor into his decision-making than he was willing to admit.
"I cannot balk now. I have goal. This time for sure!" He growled to himself into that guttural, nearly metallic tone. "This time, I will..."
A pause ensued, as he made sure to gain ground before continuing. "Become friends with this Nashi!"
He laughed afterwards, the sound of sand-paper grating against dull, rough roch ricocheting throughout the sky in spite of the thinning air. It lasted for minutes on end, as Misuji continued to push himself past the point of no return. Suddenly, he stopped. Not climbing, of course, but guffawing like a baby bull in the middle of a red-induced frenzy.
"That or I make the learn and do the fighting. Either or."