Steel's Not-So-Solo Free-Climbing Adventure [Open]

A cold wind blowing at what must have been over a hundred kilometers an hour (prolly 80 or 90 miles an hour) buffeted the rock that Donût was clinging to. He grunted, dug in... and held on. The wind howled and blew, and Donût was sure he was going to be picked up like a toy and flung away. And yet, somehow, after a few minutes that seemed like hours, the wind died down again. He shivered, trying to get some feeling back into the hunks of frozen lead that his limbs had become. Idly, Donût remembered something about a breathing technique that a group of mountain folk had once used, and which they had taught to the Orin monks... He just had to reposition a bit, finding a crack here and the ledge there that let him put his hands and feet around where they needed to be.

Donût breathed in through his nose... held it for a few moments... then forcefully exhaled. He did this again... and again... and again... each breath slowly inhaled, then held... then sharply released like a soft shout. While he did this, he focused on his inner ki. It was supposed to be like a fire, wasn't it? A sort of burning life force that flowed through his body like hot water? Or blood? There were better metaphors, better ways to visualize, but... Donût knew he could focus on an inner fire located near his core. That was easy enough. He could picture his breathes stoking it, pushing it and causing it to grow.

Pins and needles spread through his fingers, and then all over his arms. Then his toes and legs... until... Donût could feel again. And he could start climbing.

He scaled the cliff face, before finding a trail that allowed him to walk for a short amount of time. Then it was a scrabble and crawl through rocks... Donût swore that he saw a bright light at the summit. Something burning up at the top of the mountain that he hadn't seen before he started up the cliff. He grabbed hold of a rock, and hauled his body forward a tad. Breathing was getting difficult, requiring Donût to stop for longer this time when he needed to stoke his inner fire again.

The path that he could crawl ended, and Donût once again had to free-climb up a cliff. This time, however, there was a crack caused by some sort of heat differential that travelled all the way to the top. With creative positioning of his fists, Donût was able to use the friction of his palms and the strength of his grip to haul himself up and up... Up and up... Up and up...

By the time he could make out the outline of a person inside of the fire at the top of the mountain, Donût was struggling to breathe. His technique for keeping warm was failing him, as there wasn't enough oxygen for him to "burn" and "stoke". He could barely keep his body going. His limbs were slow... refusing to obey at the speed he was used to. Each movement gave him time enough to think and ponder his life. What was he doing up here? Training? For what? To lose more? To fail again? To not even give a good road-bump in the path of greater warriors than himself?

Or was it just for the love of himself? Was he falling for his own hype? What hype did he have? The few friends he'd made all seemed to just disappear. He himself had disappeared for about a year, recording footage and messing up the plans of his own agents. And what did he have to show? An uncompleted reality TV program? Some merch that had been made before he was declared dead?

Perhaps it was pointless. But at that moment, Donût had a defined goal. The top of the mountain. The flaming figure that might have been a hallucination. He needed to get up there, perhaps talk to the stranger. Maybe they would have secret words of wisdom!

Up... up... up... 

A hand shot up onto the rock near the summit, where Jackie was meditating. Followed by an arm. The arm and hand flopped down onto the snowy-rock, and dug in. Another arm shot up with a grunt, and made a similar motion to grab onto the surface of the rock. Then up came a head... a chest... a belly... groin... legs...

A hairy little human man, with a mullet mane, a goatee, a pair of shades, a black tank-top, blue jeans, and neon-pink sneakers got himself up onto the solid surface and collapsed shortly after. He gasped for air, rolling from his belly to his back, letting scraped and bloody hands rest on his chest.

"H-Hey... hey... are you uh... are you one 'a them hallucinations... mirages? Hallucinations. Hallucinations? Or uh... uh... are ya real...?"

There was some wheezing and gasping, followed by a bit of dry coughing. The man, Donût, aka Mister Steel, reached into the pocket of his jeans while he let his question, directed at Jackie, hang in the air. He pulled out a bottle of water, and opened it... sitting up to take some good, heavy gulps of water. Then he fell back and laid down again.


Steel made it to the top! But he might not be aware of it, yet...

WC: 900

TWC: 1275

Donût was glad that the lady on the mountain was real. Or well... said she was real. She could still be a hallucination brought on by his tortured mind, simply assuaging worries in order to help him deal with terrible circumstances. But then again, some philosophical ideas and thought experiments left the possibility that everyone and everything that someone interacted with was just a hallucination of a brain devoid of sensory input. So... better to assume the lady that was as warm as a campfire was real.

He took the hand that was offered, not sure how it was going to fix his hands. But, with feeling returning to his fingers, the scrapes, scratches, and aches were all coming back in force.

"Thanks... An'... yeah, climbed every... every inch'f tha mountain... that wasn't trail... with ma barehands. Tha trails... those I just... I just walked on."

Donût was out of breath. It wasn't just from the climb, he was already recovering from that. It must have been the altitude. He didn't fly regularly, nor did he spend a lot of time on the tops of mountains, so he definitely wasn't acclimated to the thin air at the summit. He hadn't even paused for a break during his ascent, so... he hadn't given himself any time to get acclimated, really. Hopefully that would figure itself out...

But first, there was the divine, glowing warmth that flowed into his hands, taking away aches and sealing up skin. It was like... his hands were knitting themselves back together in the pleasant sun of a late-spring day back east. It was glorious. Wonderful... and at the end, Donût's hands were back to full fighting condition. Which was good, because he would need them when he clambered back down.

"So uh... if yer real an' all... how'd... how'd ya get up here? I... I didn't see ya... didn't see ya on the climb up..."

Right after he asked this question, Donût got a vague sense of familiarity. He'd seen this woman before, in passing. He wasn't sure he'd ever spoken to her, and he certainly hadn't fought her at any point. But maybe he'd seen her at an event? A tournament? Local? Or big? He was somewhere tropical, he knew that much...


WC: 381

Total WC: 1656

Donût tried to follow Jackie's advice. After she let go of his hands, he fell back to the wet stone and slush, and forced breath in through his nose... then out through his mouth. Slow... Steady... Over and over... Deep breaths... he let his body relax, his muscles untense. It was perhaps the first time that he'd done that all day, having needed to hold tight to the mountain. This was important, though. The cooldown after training was just as important as the warm-up, and the training itself. He needed to be able to recover, so his body would actually gain something from this venture.

As he got his breathing under control, Donût listened to Jackie talk, basking in the warmth of the fire her body had made. He smiled, then laughed. He took a deep breath, slowly inhaling... Then he spoke.

"Y'know, "Mister Steel" is actually ma stage name. Ma government name is "Donût"... Heh..."

He took another deep breath in.

"As fer tha Budokai..."

Donût stopped for a moment, taking in another deep breath while his brows came down and a look of concentration came upon his face. He realized something. He wasn't wearing his usual pair of shades! They must have been lost on the climb up. Oh well, we always had a spare. Donût reached into some space that might have been a pocket, pulling out a pair of gaudy shades that were made of cheap, red plastic with mirrored lenses. He put them on his face, before folding his hands underneath his head. The stone was hard, and he needed something soft to rest his head on.

"I mean, rigged? Maybe? Lots of strong Earthlings were there, too. Heck, I got ringed out by some teen kid in a mask, and I'm pretty sure she was a native."

Donût shrugged after that, and looked up at the sky. They were so high up... he didn't see any clouds above him. He wondered, though, if he waited long enough, would he see the stars? The familiar stars of home, complete with the constellations his dad had shown him when they had found work out in the country for a few seasons? Another deep breath.

"Y'know, I think I could kick 'er keister now. Or at least hold ma own in a match this time. Seein' how much power she an' tha other fighters could summon... It... drove me ta try an' do better maself. I unlocked new depths of ma own power, polished ma techniques, even went to an alien planet where I survived fer over a year by maself. That's gonna be a show, by tha by, ma new agents pitched it ta the Best Show network as "Steel Survivor"."

Another deep breath, then a laugh.

"New episodes weekly on Tuesdays at 6 pm Eastern Time, and a premier on BS Prime-Time Streaming Service tha next day. I actually thought I wus streamin' tha whole time I wus recordin'. Didn't know how ta hook up tha chat function, so I just hoped someone wus seein' it an' I tried ma best ta rough things out on Konats. Lost track'f time, they got a different day-night cycle there. I wus declared legally dead right before I showed up in ma agents' office askin' about view-counts."

He took a moment to remember the look on HumDee's and DumDee's faces when he strolled into their office, wearing a gi he'd patched up out of various alien furs and fabrics. They'd looked about ready to pray to some alien gods that they definitely didn't believe in, just in case they were being haunted.

"An' before that, I fought in tha tournament on Konats, it wus this big intergalactic tournament... Fought sum catboy Saiyan with electric ki. Got ma but whooped real bad, but I got tha attention'f ma agents. They loved ma stage presence and reached out ta me afterwards. Now I got fights lined up, a show about ta air... An' sum love back home, since I got magicked back home just in time ta help fight sum blue pirate guy that was so strong he nearly knocked me out with one blow."

Donût took another deeeeeeep breath... Which he let out so he could fill his lungs again, and buy just a moment to marshall his thoughts. Things were a bit fuzzy, even as he was getting more air in.

"I guess ma point is, things c'n be rigged so ya lose in tha ring... but sometimes ya win in ways that aren't really defined by conventional rules. I lost tha Budokai, but I got stronger trainin' an' travellin'. And I never woulda done it if I hadn't lost ta some dumb kid in a mask. I lost on Konats, but I got ta fight next ta ma hero and I got a media presence now on two planets. I didn't give tha hardest hits ta that pirate, but I kept him from blowin' up ma home. And people there love me, now. So, sure, I lost tha "rigged" tournament... but I met people, learned, grew... I won outside it. Ya get wut I'm sayin'?"



WC: 865

TWC: 2521

Donût didn't know where his little speech had come from. Those weren't the thoughts that he'd been having for the last few months, the thoughts he'd had since returning to Earth. It was... a new perspective. One that appeared as he was talking about it, ruminating. And... it made him feel good. Maybe he was judging himself too much and too harshly by weird rules that someone else had set, and not enough by his own metrics.

Then Jackie started her own little speech, her own sharing. And it was... a lot more pessimistic. A lot more open and raw and sharing pain and doubt that she'd been holding in for quite a while. For a moment, it left Donût speechless. He just sat there, taking a few deep breaths as he mulled things over.  Then, he streeeeetched both his arms and both of his legs allll the way out while muttering a little, "Hoooooo booooyyyy..."

Then, he stood up and did a few other stretches, not looking at Jackie until... he turned around and knelt. He was... about a foot shorter than Jackie, but between her kneeling and him taking a knee... he was almost eye level with her.

"I think wishin' ta be tha strongest is a lot like wishin' fer all tha money in tha world."

Donût, no, Mister Steel gave Jackie a thumbs up while he grinned at her.

"Sure, it'll drive ya fer quite a while, maybe even past tha point when any reasonable person would give up... but you'll never have enough. Not 'cause ya won't succeed, or ya won't get what ya need... but because you'll never think it's enough."

The Unbreakable Mister Steel rose up to his two feet, putting his hands on his hips while he looked out over the gorgeous view at the top of Mount Five Element. All of the carnage, the fire, the ice, the spikes of rock... from the top, it looked small and beautiful. A swirl of colors and flashing things. A wondrous example of the natural beauty of Earth.

"And Saiyans're strong, true. An' if half tha stories about these "Super Saiyans"'re real... Well, it's a scary thought. But ya ain't alone, remember? Ya just said ya got friends ya c'n count on! So don't bear all tha world's weight on yer shoulders. Share tha load!"

Steel pointed at his own head, while still smiling. He took a deep breath, trying to pretend he wasn't struggling for air. Then he continued.

"It's alright ta feel self-doubt, that's an important part'f tha mind! Ya gotta be willin' ta question yerself so ya question bad decisions an' double-check yer thinkin' an' yer abilities, otherwise ya get an inflated ego. But ya can't let that little voice'f doubt be tha ONLY THING YA HEAR! If it's drownin' out yer thoughts, then ya gotta talk back, loud 'nough ta shut it up! YA GOTTA GET UP AND SAY, "I AM ENOUGH!"... Now lemme hear you say that..."

Mister Steel bent down, pointing at Jackie. He patiently waited for her response, at least for a few moments. It let him catch his breath and keep himself from panting and falling over. He was so dizzy, nearly delirious... but Donût could put on the Steel persona and wear it in nearly any conditions. This was nothing.

The Unbreakable Mister Steel, aka Donût, didn't say anything back for a moment. He just looked at Jackie, studying her face, the sadness in her eyes and the pain that radiated from her. Then, he took off his shades and sighed. A part of him thought that he should have gone with his first pick, majoring in psychology instead of political science.

After that, Donût folded up his shades and put them into the pocket-like space that he'd originally pulled them out of. Then he stretched, cracked his knuckles, and sat down. This was going to be an uphill battle worse than the mountain climb, he knew that already. And sure, it wasn't Donût's job to fix a person or make them feel better, but... It was the duty of any decent person to at least offer a helping hand and a listening ear. And perhaps give this stranger some of the tools to help herself, a seed that, with work and patience, could bloom into positive mental health.

But he had to avoid pithy metaphors and easy phrases, the kind of thing that only worked on people without serious doubt or mental health problems. He had to use more straightforward analogies and explanations. And plenty of questions. The sorts of questions that would get a positive train of thought moving.

"Alrighty. So, I think I'm enough, but I'm tha only one that c'n answer that question fer maself."

It wasn't even the answer that Donût, aka Steel, had for himself mere minutes ago, but that was besides the point.

"So how many people'f tried ta snap ya outta this so far? Y'know, with a speech like mine 'er sum pithy sayin'."

"Hey, totally forgiven. Sumtimes ya gotta vent. I know tha deal."

Donût shrugged and smiled, then put a hand under his chin to stroke his goatee. It was feeling a little rough, he'd need to trim it later...

"So ya've been feelin' like this fer a while. And when negative 'er unpleasant thoughts like this come on, ya distract yerself with sumthin' that's seemingly more important or buryin' it."

Donût tilted his head as he thought about this. Sure, distracting oneself from negative emotions with other activities was a good way to deal with negative emotions in the short term, and it could be part of a long-term recovery plan... but usually, people distracted themselves with a hobby or a walk in the park. Not with training to the maximum or saving the world. After a moment of thought, Donût stopped stroking his facial hair and folded his arms up tight. The fire was warm... but he'd felt it sputter a bit.

"In other words, distractin' yerself from stress with... more, an' worse stress. Or trainin' while thinkin' about that worse stress... Have ya thought about doin' a low-stakes activity when these sorta thoughts come on? Like ya got any hobbies that ain't related ta martial arts 'er guardian... ing?"

He pointed a thumb at himself as he continued.

"Like, I luv ta cook an' bake. So sumtimes I just take a moment ta make maself 'er a pal a meal ta get ma mind off of things. Or a treat ta have after one'f ma workouts later. I got this recipe fer whiskey cookies that'd knock yer socks off. I also might read sumthin' heady like Nomsky 'er a paperback from tha spaceport. Dependin' on ma mood. Or watch ma favorite movies."