genessia | [Video]

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[Krillin appears before the network in an orange gi with a patch over the heart with the kanji for 'Kame' emblazoned on it. He's standing in a modest looking dojo, complete with a wall of mirrors at the rear.]

Okay, so I was so wrapped up in getting everything ready and lessons going that I totally forgot to announce that I've opened my own dojo. My wife and I are running it, and it's open to everyone. Just for a bit of history, in my world I was trained by a man named Roshi, a legend among martial artists, who bore the title of Turtle Hermit. Together, my best friend and I trained in his rather unique methods and have since become pretty strong, if I do say so myself.

So uh... y-yeah, feel free to come by for a lesson or something.

[It's clear that public speaking was not on Master Roshi's regimen.]

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Ted reminisced, for a moment, about those innocent, halcyon days when stories like that would've made him jump. But now it's gotten to the point where he has beef with a warlord-cum-vampire straight from an overwrought novel, and all he can do is make light. It satisfied his curiosity, at any rate.

"Huh. So you get to retain the killer apps without the killing intent. Talk about having your cake and eating it." Fond as Ted was of humanity, cybernetics were looking really good right now. Something to keep in mind should he lose a limb, perhaps.

The great thing about being talkative was how much time it bought him from the torture. If he didn't know better he'd swear 18 was humoring him for that express purpose. Hopeful as Ted was, even he knew that this errand wouldn't finish by today. Probably not this week. "Say, does your dojo lend? That is, could I borrow that shell? I figure if I...you know, wear it about town, I might grow accustomed. Maybe live on the beach and lay eggs."

"Yeah, we can lend. But first, now that you've gotten some time to recouperate..."

Why yes, Krillin was just standing behind him, listening for a bit after finishing his 100 laps.

"...try hopping around a bit. You should feel a little lighter now that the weight is gone."

Good grief, Ted, she's just going to sort of stare at him for that sentence about this being a good thing. "If you want to say that after going through literal months of torture, with only the barest amount of anaesthesia and being the plaything of another person, then sure. Oh and the dreams about it are great, too, let me tell you. I'd honestly rather give up all of the strength and perks that comes with this to get rid of those." Yeah, she's... she's not fond of Gero even now, even though speaking ill of the dead is generally frowned upon.

Thank goodness for Krillin's return, though, because she's not feeling terribly comfortable about the line of questions and subject matter there anymore. Sure, she usually says she's over all of that, but the scars (mental, emotional, physical) are all still there no matter what she may do.

"I still can't believe this nonsense works, but you can't argue proof of it." There's a light hint of a joke under the words, trying to make herself a little more comfortable with the situation. Hopefully Krillin doesn't mind the fact she's just going to rest a hand on his head there, nails gently massaging his scalp a bit.

Shut up, she needs to keep her mind off of other things.

Ted certainly got to hopping once the ninja-midget revealed himself. He should consider a more clandestine career, for all the stealth his size afforded. Nerves thoroughly shot, Ted offered his thoughts. "...I feel like a corpse with no right to stand. I wonder whether this is how the undead get on. But yes, I see your point and your joke. The, ah, walk in the park thing. It just dawned on me. Very funny." He almost sounded like he meant it.

He rubbed the back of his head, bashfully. "Apologies, Mrs...erm, what's your maiden name?"

Krillin was more than willing to let 18 do whatever she wanted to him, and slipped his arm around her waist as she got closer. "No, no joke here. I picked the place because of the uneven ground. When I started this training, Master Roshi had me delivering milk in these things to temples on top of mountains, and villages in the valley. This was the best I could find here. Just be glad I couldn't find a T-Rex to chase you."

As Ted addresses 18, he glances up at her with a knowing look. The kind of look that said 'you don't have to say anything you don't want.'

Despite herself she can't help the small contented sound as he wraps that arm around her waist, something to help ground her a little bit. Honestly, she's been through a hell of a lot and given it hasn't been... terribly long since a certain bug bastard got to her, she's not exactly the most forthcoming with information that might be used against her later. Maybe a bit paranoid to a fault, not that social graces are much her thing to begin with.

At least he's apologizing, that's at least calming her somewhat and she can at least give him a name. "... Just call me by Eighteen. It's weird, I know, but I'd rather that." Really, there's only a few people that know what her name actually was and that was only through her telling them or through those damn blueprints in another's case.

"Apology accepted, though. You wouldn't have known that's a sore spot if I hadn't mentioned it, I suppose."

Ted could understand embarrassing names, and was pleasantly surprised to find one apology defused the bomb. Not to imply that she held a self-destruct switch in there somewhere. Maybe blondes aren't such terrible people after all.

"Heh, all right. Eighteen; means 'long life' in Hebrew." A long life would be about the only thing plausibly connecting cyborgs and dinosaurs within spitting chronological distance. Whatever strange world these two came from, it assuaged his ego (for offering some explanation of their prowess) about as much as it befuddled his brain.

"And just in case I forgot, I'm Ted." If they're kind, they will never tell him what that means. He knows all too well.

Krillin just grins up at 18, giving her a slight squeeze for a moment. "Names are... tricky with us, and extremely personal. Even I don't have a surname. I was abandoned as an infant at a temple, no idea who my parents were, don't really care either. SO I'm just Krillin."

Krillin slips off the second pack and hands it over to Ted. "Very well Ted, wear it during normal activity until you forget it's even there. Trust me, the training works pretty well if you give it enough time."

...Also was Krillin's feet touching the ground anymore? Perhaps the added weight really was keeping him down to earth...

Long life, huh? Kind of ironic when she thought about it, but for the moment she's just sort of keeping things under wraps once more, having done more than enough to embarrass herself and make herself uncomfortable on this entire subject. Talking about this and the details of it never tended to sit well or right with her in the end. Hell, there were things she hadn't told her own husband at this point. One day, but that day hadn't quite come around yet.

"Tricky is an understatement, to be quite honest." That's the only quip she's giving to that, leaning just a bit into his grip for a little more reassurance despite herself.

Honestly, she's used to Krillin not staying on the ground for long, comes with the height differences territory, to be fair. But she's merely raising a brow at Ted in question as something formulates in her mind.

"So what are you trying to get out of this, anyway? Everyone has their reasons for wanting to train, after all, but if it's prying too much then you certainly don't have to answer."

He talked to Krillin, mildly surprised that he'd grown a few inches. Ted frowned a bit at his ancestral nonchalance. Apathy spread like a disease in Genessia. "Thank you, I'll endeavor to never let it leave my side. Or my back, as it happens." He tried, feebly, to wrap his bag around the borrowed burden.

He nervously laughed at 18's question. It was pretty obvious that Ted didn't exactly enjoy getting his back broken. "Heh, I'm flattered, both in your interest in myself and the implied notion that I'd say something useful. Your world sounds fascinating; filled with raptors and robots. And, most unusual of all, honest men who can relied upon to talk truthfully about themselves. Forgive me for not being one of those; for my own part, you'll find that autobiography is notoriously misleading. You'd get more truth from a fairytale. Still, if you're really curious, you need only observe my fruits. For by their fruits you shall know them."

He addressed the couple at once. "So, is it safe to say I'm your first pupil?"

That was an awful lot of dancing around the question. Krillin couldn't help but arch his eyebrow at all that. Now he was quite suspicious of Ted's motives. He's going to make a mental note to not get into actual martial arts until he has a better feel for Ted's character.

"The relationship between teacher and pupil is a sacred one in our world. You'll need to do some serious thinking and supply an answer to that. And yes, you are our first pupil."

He glances up at 18, a sort of unease in his eyes for just a moment before turning his attention back to Ted. "I guess I'll leave you with the wisdom my master gave me on my first day of training. We must master the art of peace in addition to the art of war. We achieve victory by the art of war, victory is won through strategy, strategy is derived from the art of peace. However if somebody evil threatens you or any other good innocent people with unethical force it is your duty to defend. The Kame School does not pick fights. Just like a shell defends a turtle, we defend those that cannot defend themselves. We are a shield, not a sword."

Edited 2016-03-04 00:24 (UTC)

Honestly, the blond's echoing Krillin's suspicions, not quite sure what to make of him or the reasons he supposedly has. Despite herself she's tensing just a little, barely noticeable to most people, though certainly her husband can pick up on it.

"If I may be blunt about this... I would suggest finding an answer to this sooner rather than later as I'm not fond of people that hide behind words to mask their true intentions. Never have been nor will I ever be." Came with the territory of where she's from, to be perfectly honest, though she's not quite sure if she even wants this person around their dojo if there's going to be half-truths or even false answers to be found. She knows better than to deal in those.

His glancing up to her is enough for her to mirror his unease, quietly questioning him on this decision. They could talk at length about it later, but for now she's merely going to distance herself from this conversation and allow Krillin to speak if he has anything more to ask or say in regards to this.

She's not much of a talker, after all, and especially not when something sets off her warning flags about a person.

Ted chuckled plaintively at the irony. He found talking about one's self distasteful, and had tried to evince humility. As it backfired into distrust, he reflected that it would've been wiser to merely decline and take 18's out of privacy. Hindsight, alas. Now they were practically demanding an answer. Why, he wondered, do people always take a thing hidden to be a thing despicable?

Before he got to that, he eagerly took in the dojo's raison d'etre. Finally, he thought, some philosophy! It was the first time he'd witness this kind of brain behind brawn, readying himself for golden nuggets of eastern, mystic wisdom.

It produced for him a similar effect of reading a fortune cookie. If there was wisdom there, it'd take a keener mind than his to dig it out, he thought. The turtle is an unfortunate animal; was there anything especially noble about them? Dogs and horses are more servile. Ants have commendable work ethics. He's heard that the orient even idolizes the dragon, illustrating once and for all their spiritual topsy-turvdom. But a turtle? Even sloths have claws. He remembered a nature documentary about sea turtles, and the pitiless, harrowing journey their young made while crawling away from hungry seagulls towards the ocean. Hopefully Krillin meant something more protective than that. And glorifying shields over swords? That would simply have to be forgiven. No man in his right mind seriously prefers the board of wood over the sundering blade.

But it was the note on good and evil that rang the most discordant. Ted let out a small, wry chuckle at "unethical force". As if evil people could use force entirely ethically. He didn't know what to make of Krillin's casual mention of "good, innocent people". Ted felt like he were describing a mythical creature; as though the dojo was set up to defend unicorns. Only edenic innocence or asinine fatuity could explain this breezy rendition. Krillin's world must have been truly angelic, if there were such saints to defend.

Though his current trouble imparted the wisdom of silence, Ted couldn't help but be disquieted at the morality so presented. It was a possible point of contention he couldn't ignore, prompting him into a somber question that was an answer all its own.

"...what of the sinners? The publicans, the covetous, the cowards, and the faithless? Who will look after them?"

Edited 2016-03-05 02:45 (UTC)

Krillin sighed, shaking his head and looking genuinely dejected for a moment. It was clear that he couldn't teach someone like this. Not with a clear conscience anyway. He gave 18 a squeeze and a knowing look before floating off to the side and upward slightly so as to be directly on Ted's eye level.

"It isn't our place to judge. The world is big, brutal, and unfair. And it doesn't just end at the upper limits of the atmosphere. Everywhere, throughout the universe, there are those that are downtrodden. Why are the cowards cowardly? Because they love too much and have too much to lose in the face of oppression. Why are the faithless without faith? Because the world has taken from them and given nothing in return. Nobody is perfect, and everyone deserves a second chance. The power I offer is not a power I teach so that my students can judge their fellows. This power does not make anyone any better than anyone else. I have seen the horrors of the universe and met them head on, and died for it."

He pulls his gi aside, pointing to a spot on his chest, just to the left of his sternum. "Right here, I was impaled by a being named Frieza on a planet light-years from my home. Why? Because I stood between him and an object of power that would have allowed him to conquer the galaxy, because I could not simply stand aside as he murdered villagers who showed more bravery in the face of overwhelming power. There were some that wanted to give in to Frieza's demands, and I do not blame them. He would often start with a village elder, executing him in front of his family, and then a child. They could not stand up to Frieza or his goons. They didn't have the power."

He holds his hand over his head, a disc of golden energy spinning into existence just over his palm. "But I did. I had power, and even though it wasn't even a fraction of what Frieza held, I stood against him. And I paid the price. But I have no regrets. Because I did what was right."

He closes his hand, the energy shimmering and vanishing. "The Kame school does not pick and choose who we defend. We defend everyone who cannot defend themselves. We do not judge others, either. It is through love, compassion, and understanding that we find enlightenment. If you cannot abide by those tenants... I suggest you return the pack."

The severe story met its opposite in Ted, who tried very hard to suppress laughter. He could always count on a mass of contradictions following wholesale judgment of judging, and found them as funny as any piece of ridiculousness. It was this confusion of words that added to his resolve to teach English. The openness of the story deserved some compliment, at least.

"Thank you for that story; I'm glad to have an underdog for a sensei. That being said..." The smile that curled his lips just about broke him.

"'It's not our place to judge', he says, before painting whole world, then the universe, black in the very next breath. Good God!" There was so much wrong in that spiel that Ted was moved to take whatever hours and pains to unpack the whole thing. Faithless man that he was, Ted had little confidence that he'd make a dent. Goodness knows it'd take a fuller man than he to fill the void left by orient thought. Still, there was something pleasing in the thought of metaphysical gossip. It might fill a few hours of dull training. Ted searched for a pithy way to make his point.

"Setting aside the judgments necessary to call spades spades, or to discern between good and evil, I hope you'll forgive my insolence in suggesting that perhaps you're more fond of the j-word than you claim. To pick just one example of many: are you not, at this very moment, judging my fitness as a pupil?" Ted prayed this was a cultural difference about words, rather than a muddle of thought.

"In any case, those tenants sit well with me. Love and compassion I haven't a word against. As for understanding, I'm afraid you've misunderstood me entirely. Bless your levitation, so that nothing else I say goes over your head." Ted cleared his throat.

"Does it not follow that when someone asks whether someone will do something, that they find the something worth doing, and curiously undone? 'Twas not out of condemnation I inquired about the sinners. You presented your school as an aegis for the righteous. Very well. But I wanted to know its purposes for the other ninety-nine hundredths of humanity. Those of us who are neither good nor innocent. Thank goodness it is not only for the good that the Kame school exists.

You see, it's the sinners I wish to fight for. They need it more."

Edited 2016-03-05 16:12 (UTC)

Krillin sighs, dropping back to the ground. He's still not sure about Ted but for now he'll give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Calling a spade a spade is all well and good. Calling people sinners, however is not. Nobody is perfect, nobody can be perfect. That doesn't make them any less human. I have done things I'm not proud of, as has everyone. But to identify someone as a 'sinner' because of that is placing an undue burden on someone who could be doing their best to better themselves. If you wish to continue here, I want you to scrub that word from your vocabulary. You fight for good. You fight for people. I don't want to hear the word sinner again. Understood?"

Asking Ted to part with words had predictable consequence.

He looked at the ground, arms crossed in contemplation. His eyes didn't have far to go to meet Krillin's.

"You're wrong. People can be perfect. And it's pride, more than anything, that makes a sinner. Now I finally understand your fondness for shells. You speak of undue burdens?" He overturned his bag and dumped the shell on the grass. "There's one for you. Heavy as the despair you preach of imperfection. Hollow as your soft soap of sin.

Which is to say there is no understanding. 'Sinner' is a useful word, and more importantly, true. Perhaps you can fight without truth, but I have no such luxury." Ted couldn't hide his bitterness at loss. Everything was looking so well, with glorious possibility spread out in all directions. Then, bit by bit, the whole thing unraveled and slipped through his fingers. But he couldn't bring himself to accept the denial of perfection and sin. Perhaps, thought Ted, that's the curse of small men: a stunted belief in small good and small evil. It wasn't enough; tepid, moderate, limited virtue would never serve. He needed real, full goodness, in all its terrible splendor.

Such panting for moral greatness did little for his mood, which sunk like the burden he'd returned. His voice softened. "Sorry for wasting your time." He glumly got his things and walked away, noting that despite Krillin's assurances, his steps felt no lighter.

Oh good grief, conversations on morality never went anywhere good and she knew this well enough. Thus she had remained silent while they spoke, merely listening to the conversation and turning the words over in her mind for some possibility of figuring out where everything had gone to shit. It was more complicated than she would have initially thought and, from what she could tell of the situation, if this continued then there would probably be a fight despite the well meanings.

A low sigh slips past her lips as she turns her attention from her husband towards Ted, arms crossing over her chest in more of a defensive posture than she thought it would be. Sinners and perfection, everyone was a sinner to some degree and this she knew far better than most people, really.

"I can tell you, with absolute certainty, that to obtain perfection, a lot must be sacrificed. Before you leave, let me tell you a story of someone that claimed to be obtaining perfection. And why it corrupts more than you would think." It's not a story she tends to tell anyone who wasn't there, other than the bare bones of it.

"In our world there was a genetic creation, a bioandroid, if you will, that was created for the same purpose myself and my brother were, to destroy a certain person. But, you see, the doctor that made him? He knew, from experience, I might add, that controlling myself or my brother was impossible. Humans, no matter what you do to them, will still have their own wants and needs and no one wants to be controlled for another's purpose. Which is why he made a creature called Cell."

Oh boy, this is going to get even more fun, considering she can't help the flinch at saying that thing's name. "To obtain power, he needed to consume. And consume he sure as hell did, sucking the life out of several people, innocent or not without a care in the world. But to obtain his absolute perfection? He needed myself and my brother, don't ask me the specifics, I can't tell you the hows and whys of it. But that's the fact of the matter and, despite our destroying things and the like? My brother and I hadn't killed a single damn person nor were we really intending on doing so. But you know what happened? That bastard got what he wanted.

And, let me tell you, being literally absorbed by a goddamned genetic monster like that? Not fucking pleasant in the slightest. But he got his perfection, though it was taken away from him, too, through his own folly. I don't know the specifics of that incident for obvious reasons, but I know my husband does." Which may or may not be her stepping stone for Krillin to go from there.

Krillin was more than willing to just let Ted go. If he was going to be so set in his ways, he wasn't going to force him to change. But... then 18 started telling her story. He gave her a concerned look but when she finished her perspective, he sighed and picked up the story.

"Once Cell got his 'perfection', he beat the crap out of the strongest warriors in the galaxy as a warm-up. His arrogance was backed-up with power, and decided he wanted to prove to the world how perfect he really was. He hijacked a news crew, and announced a tournament of sorts. He gave the world 3 months to assemble the strongest warriors we could to defeat him. If nobody could defeat him, he'd blow up the planet. Naturally, having a monster threaten the world didn't go over well with the governments of the world, and while Cell simply waited for the deadline, entire armies came after him, and he wiped 'em all out without breaking a sweat. But... then there was Goku and Gohan. My best friend and his son respectively.

Goku went blow-for-blow with Cell. Probably could've beaten him really. But he saw something in Gohan that nobody else did. An untapped potential. Now Goku and Gohan are the purest, kindest, and most compassionate souls in the galaxy. Gohan was actually afraid of the power he had inherited... but Goku used the fight with Cell to teach Gohan it was okay to use his power to protect others. Long story short... Gohan - at thirteen years old - obliterated Cell. Down to the molecular level."

He pauses, collecting the packs from where they sat on the ground. "But the moral of the story? Gohan has still been improving. He's going to school, learning about the world around him, while still getting stronger and stronger. Perfection isn't a static bar. It is a constantly shifting goal to pursue, never to reach. Cell thought he had reached perfection and in his arrogance couldn't see his own weakness. Saying people can be perfect is - quite frankly - an insult to everyone around you. To say they have a limit is simply ignorant."

Another story, less relevant than the last. Ted listened patiently, dictating it to memory. Maybe in the future the meaning of it would become clear. All Ted could think of now, however, was the way it fantastically missed the point. Ironic, given how hard Ted tried to be articulate. He didn't know if he spoke badly, or they listened worse.

"You've witnessed such evil, yet balk at a word like 'sinner'. I don't understand you. Nor, it seems, you I.

Is that what you thought I meant by perfection? The vanity of a monster? Some academic or athletic plateau? Were we not discussing men's souls mere moments ago?

Sorry, this just...isn't how I pictured this. And to think it all could've been avoided had I kept quiet, or didn't take philosophy seriously. God help me, I do. Which is why the limits of your own philosophy won't serve. The quest I'm for is too dark to allow anything less than the acknowledgement of sin, or the hope of perfect love to defeat it.

Ironic thing is--and I know you dislike judging--I think you're one of the good ones. I think you're one of those people that's better than their philosophy. Just my luck I've got the one that's better than me." Ted tried to think of what to say; seasonal words that would cure the bitterness of the last few minutes.

"I wish things could be different. In a lot of ways. I hope you'll go over to my side, some day. In the meantime, if you won't give me instruction, would you..." Ted felt embarrassed, asking for this from people he'd just met. Especially those whose teachings he'd wholly rejected. Then again, fortune favors the bold.

"...Would you at least pray for me? I'll return the favor, of course. Goodness knows I'll need it."

Edited 2016-03-09 06:55 (UTC)

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