Japanese temple.
At the rise of the new day Oswald Knight found himself standing at the entrance of a quiet looking temple. His expression was contemplative. On the advice of his newly made friend Oswald had taken an excursion out to the nearest temple, seeking to understand the way of life as existed in this country that would henceforth serve as his base of operations.
Being an outsider wasn't exactly a new thing for Oswald. His status as an Outsider was something he had known since his younger years. He had learned resilience, how to rely only on himself. Solitude had become Oswald’s ally, the ability to walk his path on his own was just one piece of the story that had been part of the journey while Oswald came into his own unique strength.
Oswald Knight: “You know they say the essence of true neutrality is to look out for yourself and no one else. To cleave no loyalty to any group or alignment. However I’d be remiss if I didn’t state aloud that I’ve found myself in a situation that contradicts the ideals of true neutrality.”
A slow icy breath was released, thick tendrils of fog whirling through the air in an almost thoughtful way.
Greenery stretched out around the entrance, far beyond Oswald’s calculating gaze. The kind of greenery taken care of by someone who understood the need for a natural beauty tamed by skilled fingers.
Oswald’s stride through the wide open door was unhurried, a lazy relaxed stride, the stride of a predator who knew no equal. In truth Oswald could adopt the mask of a civilised man, could appear charming on the surface at least. Underneath that surface lay an ice cold entity who had taken the name of ‘Mr Penguin’ a callback to the icy climate in which his spirit had been forged.
Silence was his greeting, a reverence for a place of worship. A microcosm of humanity lay heads bowed, from the young to the very old, spanning both male and female, the walls themselves adorned with artwork harkening back to the feudal era, an era in which samurai’s and nobility both had existed in plentiful quality.
Bowing his head slightly Oswald sat down, his face a mask torn between reverence for a holy place and the neutrality with which his life had been guided.
Oswald Knight: “Young Blood Survivor series. Two teams thrown together with the sole aim of securing a victory. Damien Blackwood. Jeffrey James Roberts. K.D Feigel. Thus you are the allies called forth into the tempest of the storm that is making landfall. On the other side? Vox Infernalis, Lightning Man, Elizabeth Devereaux O Rourke, Alice Ali.”
Oswald paused anew, his features turning into a sneer, wicked and taunting in equal measure. Stroking a hand over his chin, a terrifying gleam held true in his eyes. A gleam born of his innate darkness, the showmanship a mask for the ominous and chaotic entity that was the flip side to his persona.
As he lifted his head, Oswald’s eyes narrowed, a charismatic smile teasing the edge of his lips in an affable expression meant to appear soothing instead of frightening.
Wisps of warm summer air spun lazily, a gentle sort of beauty in how they presented themselves to the eyes of humanity. One could almost think that taking a trip to Japan was like taking a trip back in time, a trip to a locale that oozes class, a old world sort of feel touched every facet of life in a country known for its nobility, a nobility that hid the darker aspects of Japan from the eyes of unwitting tourists.
Pristine in his silence, began Oswald’s reflection, a journey deep into his own mind.
Ten years ago
“Oswald you’ll never be the biggest guy or the strongest in any room. But what you can be is the smartest, the most efficient, the most strategic. Hone your mind, learn discipline and in that discipline unearth your strength, mind over matter Oswald” whispered the soft accented voice of his mother, a mother who always had a smile for him regardless of anything that happened.
That was simply how his mother had been, her kindness was the touchstone upon which Oswald’s rare gentle moments came from.
“It's not about throwing the most punches, the most strikes. No, that simply uses up energy faster, what you do is let your opponent do the work, then at the right time strike with precision and bring them down without hesitation. This is how you win. One strike, timed correctly will do far more damage than a million carelessly thrown strikes.”
His mother was ever a wise and sage woman, her advice was logical. Almost as if from birth she had been preparing Oswald for the fight to come in his future.
“A most interesting lesson, one that could also be applied to business could it not?” Oswald queried softly, a glimmer of curiosity shining on his face as he soaked up knowledge, considering how best to apply his mother’s advice to the events that may occur in the future as he strove to reach physical maturity.
“My lessons are intended to be applied to a variety of situations, thus ensuring that you are well prepared to handle anything that comes your way. The ability to remain cool and unflappable in trying situations is the mark of a sophisticated man. Take my words to heart and always keep learning, eyes open, mind to soak up knowledge. In this modern age Knowledge is power, the more you know, the stronger you’ll be”.
His mother would pause here, her time speaking done as her lesson had been spoken aloud, now it was up to Oswald to figure out how to apply her lessons into his own life. Sink or Swim. This was the way Oswald had always seen things, he’d either succeed by his own hand or he’d fail by his own hand. His fate was now squarely resting on his own shoulders.
Present Day, Oswald’s Nightclub
Eerie tendrils of fog danced over the floor, the wintry cold of the nightclub was something of a home for Oswald. Like the bird from which his name was taken, Oswald preferred the colder climates, this was a truth to his own mind. As always Oswald had dressed in a classic black suit, his appearance regal as was his custom, a throwback to the very first lesson his mother had taught him, that lesson being that manners were of the utmost importance in how one held themselves as well as how they dressed.
Oswald Knight: “I’ve weathered a great many storms, survived the vicious onslaught sent forth to test the cold heart I’ve long since laid claim to. Each time I’ve outlasted the storm, I’ve come away with a deeper understanding of my own strength. Thus I now come to you as the storm, harsh and unyielding, frigid and lethal. Nature now bows to me, as I once bowed to nature. This is the fate of someone who has walked into such icy storms, battled the cold and won the respect of mother nature.”
Breathing slow and soft, his chest rose and fell in a contemplative expression, his eyes narrowing to orbs that displayed an inherent control over his nature in this moment.
“The chill of winter is not merely felt but woven into the tapestry of our days, a thread of crystal and quiet.” Oswald spoke softly, his words holding an icy chill that was like the bite of an ancient creature, a creature that had slowly begun to stir.
Clapping his hands together Oswald breathed out one last warning. “You can’t outrun the cold, nor the ice that drags those poor unfortunate souls down into the darkness of an eternal slumber”
Fade to black..