[A few years ago]
[present day]
"And kids thats what happened when I had my first drink.."
That concluded his brief time at the school telling troubled children how they should turn their lives around before they ended up turning into a nasty old pirate who had a drinking problem... Well thats what the faculty thought he was and thats also what they were paying him to pretend to be. When in reality he was just a nice pirate with a drinking problem. Standing out on the secluded little grassy hill he couldn't keep himself from reminiscing now and again. The grassy hill he found himself on was quite familiar, almost a second home to him. He had managed to find his way there whenever he wanted to get a quick workout in or even a rigorous go at some actual training. Littered around the grassy here were a variety of targets he used to practice throwing his daggers and retrieve them with string. He had gotten quite used to the motions but his aim was still pretty shitty at anything past twenty meters. It was definitely an area that needed improvement but before he improved himself there he needed to continue his works on the basics. When a skilled warrior has truly mastered the basics of any skill is when he has taken his first steps to truly mastering his arts. It was an old saying one of teachers had relentlessly drilled into his mind over the years and was one hundred percent without a doubt the reason Loki found himself up on this hill every time practicing his basics. Controlling his breathing, and repeatedly performing basic strikes. Keeping both his body and his mind flexible yet strong. He wasn't a master yet but maybe in a few years he would close, and maybe by then he would take up a different weapon. The style wouldn't change much beside a few core mechanics no matter what weapon he used. That was one of the real strengths of his style. They were highly adaptable and anybody could learn the style with their weapon of choice. This adaptability is what led Loki to attach strings to his daggers, similar to that of a kusarigama. It added that versatility and unknown factor when he needed it. The string was also useful in a variety of situations like when he jumped out of that castle window or grappling hook type things... Alright it was as useful as he wanted to believe nonetheless it was still a useful tool.
Loki took a drink. Slowly, but surely, he lifted the cup of Saki slowly upward towards his lips. His eyes wide and hard, the wood met flesh, and he slowly rose to poor. And then, he slammed it on the table.
"I can't do it." He said finally.
"Oh c'mon...Drink it!" His friend, Sasaki, encouraged, holding his own drink with a grin.
"I don't drink." He repeated to his friend.
"Only cus you've never tried!" Loki did not respond to those words. At these times, being a pirate helped only so much. Loki had had his fill of local crap. Random destruction of villages, the "Seven" and that evil Mask, upcoming wars and the falling standards of marines..It was simply too much. So, his old friend Sasaki had suggested he go out for some fun. This was not what Loki had had in mind.
"I'm a Pirate Sas. Not a tavern brawler, not a sailor, and certainly not some wandering idiot. PIRATE! As in, "pirate." Not dancing drinker." He explained to Sasaki.
Sasaki ignored him by grabbing a bottle and swigging some good stuff down. He opened his mouth to say something, but paused, before letting out a burp, his horrific breath entering Loki's face.
"Sorray bout thaat, a bit ov gas." He cleared his throat, grabbing a pitcher of cold water. He held it to his face, only to pour on it, rather then in his mouth. He shook his head, shivering, but, amazingly, actually looking more sober.
"Dear old dear old White-chan. You're not a mayor. You ain't tee bloody feudal lord. Live a liddle!" He took the cup of Saki and motioned Hiyayaka to take it. Sighing, Loki reluctantly clasped his fingers around it, his hand shaking slightly as he pulled it back to his chest. Swallowing his anxiety, he slowly dragged it to his mouth, slowly turning it over into his mouth, the liquid flowing into his mouth, drizzling past his teeth and gums, and down his throat. He closed his eyes, as the liquid went down through his body. He neither spoke nor moved.
Then, the glass fell from his hand to the ground. He twitched. Or rather, convulsed, his body shaking. His pupils enlarged and minimized, his face became pale white then a blush red. He slurred random things. And then, he fell from his chair.
"Loki! You alright!?" Sasaki asked him, leaving his own chair and falling to the ground next to Loki, holding his hand. "Maybe you shoulda get to a doct'ar?"
And then, he was up. It was so quick that Sasaki fell over in shock. One moment he one the ground. The next, he standing up, his body shaking. A half smile crawled upon his lips. Slowly, he moved forward, staggering and appearing to limp. His head was like a mix of feeling like a cloud and in the middle of a stack of needles. "Iz dontz neesh aaa bludy docar" He muttered. He felt..Good. Almost...Invincible! Nothing could stop him. He felt flexible and powerful. He moved to grasp the wall to steady himself, only to find there to be a hole in a wall. it seemed...round, not ball, but more like... A fist? He looked to his own hand with uncertainty. Did I do that? He wondered dreamily. He hiccuped nosily, and began laughing. He began to hum a little song as Sasaki and the others in the bar watched him, half curious, half nervous.
Slowly, Loki turned to them, grabbing a bottle of Saki, and, lifting it high above his head, he yelled. "Thesz stufs iz ad...good!" The other patrons chuckled slightly. Then his voice dropped to a whisper. "I needa asom mored..." And then he spun suddenly, his leg in the air as he dropped to the ground slammed into the central beam, the leg going clear through the mix of wood and stone that kept the building from falling apart.
"Ana goodsh daysh to alls!" And then he fell over...with the roof coming down shortly after.
The next few hours that ensued consisted mainly of Loki running around the town, quite literally, trying to escape from the bar owner, shop owners, vendors, and other angry bystanders that he stumbled into on his way. At first Loki's drunk state was a little hard to handle in the literally sense. His feet tried moving forward but often swerved to the left or right, making a fast pace nearly impossible. However after what seemed like days of concentration the drunk man finally figured out the trick to it. Slowly but surely his pace fastened as he began to wobble a little less. This is where the real workout started as he had a small angry mob now hot on his heels after catching up to him. Needing to get away fast he put his new found legs to the test. Pushing himself to run faster than before in fear that an angry mob would more than likely literally tear him apart. Or at least charge him for damages and take all his money. For a while everything was going right and Loki was running faster than he ever had before. Well until he got cocky that is.
"HA! Yoosh neeva gunna cats--"
With his head turned back and not paying attention to what was in front of him he ran start into a park bench and tumbled over it. Letting out a moan in agony before he struggled to get himself back up in time to flee the mob of angry sober people. Luckily enough he had enough distance between them initially that even in his drunken stupor he had enough time struggle his way onto two legs and start running once more. By now the liqueur was starting to sweat out of him as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. Running became slightly easier yet again and Loki had little problems picking up the pace of his sprint. Gathering his energy for the moment he really put the pedal to the metal as he sprinted for a solid 300 yards leaving a nice dust trail behind him for his pursuers. Even if he was one hundred percent sober Loki doubted he had ever run that fast before, perhaps this was a sign that he was getting stronger... Or maybe he was just still drunk and had no idea how fast he could run.
[present day]
"And kids thats what happened when I had my first drink.."
That concluded his brief time at the school telling troubled children how they should turn their lives around before they ended up turning into a nasty old pirate who had a drinking problem... Well thats what the faculty thought he was and thats also what they were paying him to pretend to be. When in reality he was just a nice pirate with a drinking problem. Standing out on the secluded little grassy hill he couldn't keep himself from reminiscing now and again. The grassy hill he found himself on was quite familiar, almost a second home to him. He had managed to find his way there whenever he wanted to get a quick workout in or even a rigorous go at some actual training. Littered around the grassy here were a variety of targets he used to practice throwing his daggers and retrieve them with string. He had gotten quite used to the motions but his aim was still pretty shitty at anything past twenty meters. It was definitely an area that needed improvement but before he improved himself there he needed to continue his works on the basics. When a skilled warrior has truly mastered the basics of any skill is when he has taken his first steps to truly mastering his arts. It was an old saying one of teachers had relentlessly drilled into his mind over the years and was one hundred percent without a doubt the reason Loki found himself up on this hill every time practicing his basics. Controlling his breathing, and repeatedly performing basic strikes. Keeping both his body and his mind flexible yet strong. He wasn't a master yet but maybe in a few years he would close, and maybe by then he would take up a different weapon. The style wouldn't change much beside a few core mechanics no matter what weapon he used. That was one of the real strengths of his style. They were highly adaptable and anybody could learn the style with their weapon of choice. This adaptability is what led Loki to attach strings to his daggers, similar to that of a kusarigama. It added that versatility and unknown factor when he needed it. The string was also useful in a variety of situations like when he jumped out of that castle window or grappling hook type things... Alright it was as useful as he wanted to believe nonetheless it was still a useful tool.