|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri May 30, 2008 3:20 am
All there was was a single egg that nobody seemed to want.
For some reason, he decided to go to a bar. He didn't like driking or playing cards, but he went there anyways. Drako swift Blade was there drinking a few beers.
Moments later they were both playing Poker.
Quintafeira12 was never lucky with playing cards. He had just a bunch of numbers this turn, and drako was keeping a completely neutral face.
"Should I bluff? Does he have a good hand? Man, I can't read trough his face! Why do I always have only a pair of 2's!!!!"
Quintafeira12 was never lucky with playing cards...
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 30, 2008 2:46 pm
The beers had worked their usual magic giving Drako the perfect poker face....because he was to stoned to know what was going on.
"Go fish!" He finnaly shouts as his head hits the table and he passes out.
Quint quickly looked around then took a peek at drako's hand, a full house! so while Drako was muttering in his sleep Quint quickly switched the cards and took all the poker chips while running out of the bar.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 30, 2008 4:25 pm
"this day is perfect!!!"
He ran out of the bar but quickly tripped on a weirdo that was meditating outdoors for some reason, making all the poker chips roll down the hill into a river.
"CURSES!!!"
*5 minutes later*
Having bought diving equipment from the Barton Boutique he dived into the river and searched for the poker chips, after retriving all of them he doesn't realize that there was even less money than the amount he spent on the diving equipment. Also the poker chips were fake, meant to be used gaming outside casinos, with no actual value.
He then proceeds to run away once more.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 26, 2008 5:23 pm
Rage filled her eyes as she stepped into the dojo, blinding her to logic and sense. She was seething, fuming with it. To the point where what everybody else was doing simply did not matter to her. Not that it would normally, anyway. How she hated her family sometimes. And it always went the same way, like a cycle that only spiraled downwards. She needed to get away, to get fresh air, to VENT. And that was why she was here.
Why couldn't he understand? What was wrong with having food in a kitchen, papers on a desk, blankets touselled on a bed? And if it was such a big deal to him, then why didn't he DO something about it himself instead of yelling and shouting at other people to fix it for him? All these thoughts swirled darkly in her mind as she laid waste to a punching bag, spilling out its white puffy guts. Tearing it in half, she let out an angry growl, like she needed something more. Which wasn't exactly false. Punching things that only swung back and forth wasn't exactly going to cut it. Not this time.
They had already gone close to divorcing. And she had seriously wanted to run away to some other country. So what was holding her back? Why did she choose to stay and suffer? Why did they treat her as though she was some kind of imbecile, or some kind of less-than-human being? With a fury, she tore through the fluff of the punching bag, as though seeking to displace all of it. How she hated the way her family treated her. And yet, her sister was so much better than her. It just wasn't fair. And it would never be, not in her eyes. And how they burned with fury.
But she stayed silent, fuming and still angry. She needed to stay somewhere where nobody could control her, where nobody could tell her how much of a failure she was. She desperately needed privacy, a place of her own, where none of the world mattered. Where nothing mattered. Her stomach rumbled softly, but she ignored it. Why would food matter when the house isn't clean? Why would she matter? After all, he had made it clear in the past that he valued it so much more than her life. Maybe she would take it. And then the world would see. And at last, she would no longer have to put up with his nonsense.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2008 7:45 am
Quintafeira12 returned to the Dojo, but this time for a diferent reason.
Much to his disgust, every person in the dojo was doing exactly the same thing as they were before he left. Quintafeira12 on the other hand had been pretty active and even bought a chocobo in the mean time he was out. Some were still meditating, one was still punching a bag, many were mumbling stuff to themselves, two were sleeping, one of wich drunk...
-This place is awful... It must be stealing these poor people's fragile souls! ...Oh well!
QF12 dropped a peculiary familiar looking object in the middle of the room.
-This will be much better then everytime I kick my bro's a** in SWR! It will be has tastyfull as if I ever beated "The Game".
He then proceed to run away pretty fast.
Later, the mettalic object, wich had the word "[project manhatan prototype 5 - H-bomb]" written in it.... EXPLODED!!!
The dojo was gone, but everyone that was inside it was (somehow) unarmed, and the chairs and tables they were sited on were still there, but not the punching bags, seeing people punching air is kinda interesting.
-Weird... The bomb can't harm people.
He couldn't bring harm to other people, maybe it was the rules of this place, but that wasn't what he wanted, and he actually did like it more that way. His true goal: seeing complete destruction and random nuke shrooms from far on the dojo; was acomplished!
He then left. At least now that bothersome dojo wasn't there anymore.
Later, slowly, the devilish dojo started to reconstruct itself...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 29, 2008 5:33 pm
Some guy named speedmite walks in to a room full of people with anger issues. So he decides to blow up bag to add to the chaos and by chance happened to injure himself and a few others enough to relive them selfs of the anger and fill them with pain so they forget about the anger.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 31, 2008 5:00 pm
As Blue calmly pushed the doors open, she realized this wasn't the kind of vent she was used to.Everything seemed robotic, the people, well, maybe some of them seemed dizzy.To lighten her stressed mood, she turned her personal music player to some wave sounds.She put her hands in a odd formations, then set her hands down gently.With a silent cloud of smoke, an egg appeared.She set it up right on a yoga mat opposing hers, and began to meditate.Clear your mind.Erase it as though it is merely a chalkboard.She closed her eyes, and put herself into what seemed like impossible positions.After her usual daily routine, she did some push and sit ups.The egg had just sat there, as it should have.She once more began to meditate, releasing the tension of the day.Suddenly, she nodded, and as though she could understand the egg, began to lift it up with the bottom of her foot.She slowly lifted her egg up higher and higher, until her leg was completely up.As she began to turn into paper form, realizing she had let her mental and phisical energy become one, she slowly released the egg and watched it float as it came down.Then, she placed it on her head and went to the metal bar.Up, down, up, downShe slowly watched the others as some stuggled and some suceeded.She was on her way to being one with nature.Her head began to sweat as she had the egg on her head, so she went to the balance beam.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 12:51 pm
Ken stepped into the dojo almost timidly. He found a bag not being used and stood in front of it for a moment. He is always kind to people, even jerks and loudmouths. Ken took a deep breath. Sometimes, though, a person needs to get the frustration out of their system... even a nice guy. Ken closed his eyes and inhaled again. Ken reached deep within him to where he hid all his anger and disappointment.
There... His eyes shot open and the kind aura he usually exuded turned in a flash to that of a warrior. He kicked upward to the bag and started fighting it mid-air. He kicked and punched far to fast for the normal eye to follow completely and finished with a devastating round house kick to where a persons heart would lay. If the bag were a person, Ken might have colapsed their chest. Ken landed on his feet and swept where a persons feet would be out of instinct.
Then, Ken closed his eyes again and took a deep breath once more. His fighting presence faded away and his kind demeanor started to shine through him again. He left his fighting stance and opened his eyes, smiling. Ken murmured to himself, "ahhh... I feel better..." He looked around quickly before calmly heading out the door.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
crayons 4 the color blind
|
Posted: Fri Dec 12, 2008 12:36 pm
Reskel walked into the dojo and clamly looked around, showing her anger wasn't really her style but her friend had recomended that this was a good place to releive stress.
She strode over to one of the bags and punched it, it only moved about an inch. Backing up she jumped into the air and kicked it several times before landing back on the dojo floor. She smiled, this was actually quite fun. She took a few more steps back and began to launch her throwing knives at the defensless punching bag. She stepped forwards to retrive her throwing knives, as she replaced them in their various sheaths she looked aroung.
There was a young girl with an egg on her head about to fall off a balance beam. Another angry female was tering a punching bag apart and scattering the contents. There were also quite a few people meditating. She finished sheathing her knives and began to hit the puching bag a bit more...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
