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Thread: New Peaks Academy: Paradigm Shift (IC)

  1. #21
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    For the love of all that was good and holy, Junkiro was exhausted. But what did he expect? After an extremely brutal loss to Alexia, capped off by the most embarrassing stunt of his young fighting career, Junkiro hadn't expected much sympathy when he had been called down to Mr. Overmeyer's office after the fight. He didn't have a concussion, luckily, so his wooziness had worn off by the time he found the place. Unfortunately, it turned out the gym teacher wasn't impressed with his moves either; punishment had been punches and kicks each of the last three days until he nearly collapsed. He had promised to help tutor Junkiro with his skills in place of Mr. Weiss, so at least it wasn't a total loss. Even so, every day he had found himself wiped out. Kyami was disappointed in him for fighting Alexia, but that really wasn't a surprise. Once he had explained that he had been blackmailed, all had been made up; the power couple of New Peaks was still doing fine.

    Vincento, however, was a different story. No matter how many times he explained that he was punch drunk and only half-conscious, it didn't seem that he was going to forgive him for his boneheaded little stadium dive. He'd seen the Italian go at the bags more than once over the last few days, usually while Mr. Overmeyer had him practicing his strikes. He always seemed so...not mad, but...frustrated, almost. Was he still bitter about the holiday tournament? His best friend was at least talking to him, but their dynamic seemed a bit strained. Not that it stopped him from silently hoping he and Cyst would get over themselves and someone asked the other out already. He'd been wanting to take them on a double date with Kyami and him for ages. He had a strong suspicion that a lot of the doodles in that sketchbook of hers might be of his best friend...not that she'd let him see.

    Junkiro wandered out of his Art class, stretching his arms. With all the fights that went on, sometimes he nearly forgot he had to go to classes as well. Mr. Jamemba was well-meaning, but he was incredibly strict. Junkiro was never the best artist, anyways. For the most part, he hid in the back of the class, neither being good enough or bad enough to be noticed, which was how he preferred it. Being noticed by Mr. Jamemba was an ordeal in either direction. He didn't need straight As anyways; his fighting record spoke for itself. For now, his record was merely 0-1, but that would undoubtedly change soon, considering he set the school's all time record just one year ago. He'd probably wait at least until after the legends tournament, though. He was sore and still needed a few days to really get back to the old grind.

    He was slated to meet Mr. Overmeyer in the rec center at quarter after, so he headed in that direction. He spotted Vincento leaving as he approached; he didn't dare to say hello, merely noting his existence. He didn't much seem in a mood to talk to him anyways. Maybe after the tournament they could just grab a bite to eat and reconcile. He hated the way Vincento was acting the past few days. He walked into the rec center, spotting Mr. Overmeyer in the back, a sandbag set up in the ring. Looks like despite the teacher having to prepare for the tournament shortly, he wasn't out of the doghouse just yet. He sighed, stripping out of his school clothes to his Speedo, clambering into the ring with his tutor.

    "One more day, Junkiro. Then we'll get to showing you proper ways to use your talents. I want to see two hundred punches and two hundred kicks."
    He pointed to the sandbag, leaning against the ropes, watching Junkiro to make sure he completed his punishment. Junkiro obliged, grunting as he began with the punches. Left, right, left, right. Mr. Overmeyer didn't count the ones with sloppy form, so he had to focus...his muscles were close to their limit, and he found himself slipping up and repeating more than once. He hadn't been worked this hard in a long time. Perhaps he had gotten soft? If he was going to continue to be a leading threat for the top spots in the sophomore leaderboard, he would have to work harder than ever.

    With the punches out of the way, he moved on to the kicks. These took longer, and he found himself tiring out faster than his other two limbs had. He was panting heavily by the one hundred mark, but he refused to quit. He pushed himself, feeling himself hit an adrenaline rush, and fought all the way up to the two hundred mark; he dropped to his knees, worn out. A fourth day of this had been absolutely exhausting. Mr. Overmeyer nodded at his work. "Good work, Junkiro. Hopefully you've learned your lesson not to take foolish leaps of faith like that again, right?" He helped Junkiro to his feet, a warm smile on his face. He would have let Junkiro stop if he had asked, but the boy had powered through the pain to do what he had been charged. He was a good kid, and dedication like that would get him far in life.

    "Now. I was going to have you do laps around the rec center, but since I have my big tournament today, I think we can skip that." Junkiro breathed a sigh of relief at the announcement, but otherwise did not speak; he was still trying to catch his breath, which led the sigh to be more of a gasp. "I'll give you a day or two to recover, so see me on Monday to begin new training. Other than that, try to enjoy the next few days. You gotta balance training and fun to maximize performance." Mike clapped Junkiro on the back, then hopped out of the ring. He needed to run through his regimen at least once before the tournament began, but making sure Junkiro got a shower and some rest was also important. He walked the Japanese boy to the entrance of the rec center and watched him leave back to his dorm before he walked back inside, eyeing the sandbag with that familiar smile of his.

    "We meet again, old friend. Ready for one more round?" The sandbag said nothing, but Mike knew it would help him. It always did.
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  2. #22
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    "So, Donovan - You want to chill? Figured it'd be better to have someone to talk to rather than be antisocial." Slowly, Daniel raised his head from his phone, his scowl somewhat menacing before softening upon seeing who the speaker was. Leaning against the adjacent couch was the "Blond Bombshell", Francesca MacGregor, a fellow English native and remarkably attractive colleague at New Peaks. The normally calm and collected English Muay Thai champion blushed somewhat, his words coming out stuttered and somewhat shaky in tone as he stood up and pocketed his phone. "E-erm, sure. Fancy g-goin' to RKO's? I hear its a cool place, though I've never actually gone inside." He raised his head slightly, noticing the blush on Francesca's cheeks and the small smile on her face before she copied him, getting up from the sofa and pocketing her phone in the same manner. "Okay... Lead the way Mr "Best Striker in School" - let's see if you have a softer side to you."


    Heading towards the exit, Daniel raises his eyebrow and nudges her slightly with his elbow. "So, don't take this the wrong way, but what's a good looking girl like you doing socialising with a jackass like me? I mean, I guess people see me as an asshole for certain things." Stopping, Frankie eyed her fellow Englishman and shook her head, her blonde locks swaying as she did so. "Honestly, I kinda thought you were a knob at first, with your look of everlasting arrogance, questionable antics and well... Your criminal record." Noticing the look of annoyance of Dan's face when she mentions he record, she quickly begins to apologise. "Sorry. Didn't mean to cause offence mate. All I'm sayin' is that I wanted to check if that arrogance was a constant thing or if that's just you when you're in fight mode." With a hint of amusement, Daniel rubbed his cheek nonchalantly before smiling and pulling up his hood. "Well then. Guess I better prove I'm not a typical "chavvy, arrogant knob head" then. I'll meet you inside, let me go grab something and I'll meet you there.

    Turning a corner rather quickly, Daniel clattered straight into someone, or in actuality a couple of people he didn't actually know - the duo of bullies known as the Elspeth Brothers. Bouncing into the younger one, Daniel accidentally knocked him over, pulling his hood down and offering his hand. "Shit... Sorry mate, you alright?". Instead of accepting that it was an accident, Matt angrily stood up and got in Dan's face , his tone lined with scorn."Watch where you're walkin' you fuckin' spanner! You're lucky I don't break your teeth dick'ead. Wait a sec... You're the kid who I saw with that prick Sarconni - we don't like people who associate with that fucker.". To emphasise his point, he attempted to push his fellow Londoner who didn't even budge, gritting his teeth in an attempt to prevent himself from punching the guy out, and to a lesser degree, preventing from implying to Frankie he was just a thug. "Look bruv, it was an accident - and I don't particularly wanna know ya been following me around, so move." Trying to walk past the kid, he found his way blocked by the elder, more dangerous brother, Brett. "Give me all the cash you have on you. Now. Or, maybe I'm gonna go find your little mate Vince and beat his head in before taking his money as well."

    "Yeah, nah you won't." With speed, he pushed Brett backwards with authority and strode off before getting rabbit punched by the twins, his vision blurring some. A ton of vicious, damaging punches were landed alongside a brutal kick to the side of Dan who instinctively curled up before they grabbed the cash from his wallet and walking off, leaving him in the street bleeding from a cut above his eye, angrily muttering curses while it rained heavily around him.

    "Tell the Italian we're comin' to get him still - we don't forget people who piss us off. Best remember that new boy."

    Realising that he'd been gone a while, Francesca walled out of RKO's to find a bloodied Daniel in the middle of campus and instinctively grabbing him. "Oh my god! The fuck happened?! You look like you just went twelve rounds with Mike Tyson." Instead of answering, Daniel couldn't resist making a small joke at his expense. "Well, at least I didn't fight back - can't have me looking criminal can we?". Francesca shook her head and helped him up and into RKO's, buying him a drink and asking the owner to grab him a towel for he cut. "You should get that looked at, its a nasty cut you got there." Daniel merely shrugged, reaching into his coat pocket and sighing a deep breath of relief upon realising they didn't take his phone. Quickly, he pulled up his contacts and messaged the newest addition to the list, asking for something.

    "Vince, Elspeth's are lookin for you - they jumped me, think they busted a rib of mine. They're looking for you like, right now - meet me at doc's office and I'll fill you in mate."

    Within five minutes his notification went off and he had a reply from the Italian Hapkido Machine.

    "Of fucking course they are. Only reason I'll back you on this is because I hate them more than you. Yeah, still havent really forgotten you... you know... breaking into my dorm. See you there in a few."

    With that, Daniel asked for Frankie to help him walk towards the Medical Center, a look of unease m hid face. " Something tells me this is a bad idea..."
    Last edited by Daniel_Darkholm; 04-28-2017 at 09:57 PM.

  3. #23
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    Princeton had a hard time finding the place, he was always rubbish at reading maps and he never was at this restaurant before, he also rarely ate out, eating mostly at his dorm's commissary. He was dresse well, in fresh khaki's an a short-sleeve golf shirt, leaf print. It was a bit small on him, and showed off his muscular body, getting more than a few looks from the female students, and also some male students he passed by, and one or two teachers. He din't really notice it s he was dens as a neutron star and about as oblivious.

    He finally got to the restaurant, being somewhat late, and he was worried. What would she think of him, since he didn't get there in time, would she think he stood up her, or ha she stood him up? Many thoughts raced through his mind as he stood as a crossing, catching his breath and wiping the sweat from his brow before he saw himself in the mirror. His hair was messed up. He quickly pulled out a comb an fixed it just as his mom always did. He had to make a good first impression. You only got one, after all.

    Entering the establishment, he quickly found the table she was at. "Sorry I'm late, I've never been here before. I o hope you didn't think I stood you up, I was afraid you might have thought I id an I' never be able to forgive myself for that, an my mom would be upset if she heard." He said, sitting down. He looked a bit uncomfortable as he did so. "Um, ow do these things work, do we each pay for ourselves, or should I pay for both of us? I can, it's no problem if you want that, I've read lot of conflicting things on the internet about what to do, and I don't want to do the wrong thing or seem rude. Oh, I got you something." He says, showing her a small box he brought with him. Opening it, it revealed a small scorpion pin, made of sterling silver and onyx. "I thought I should bring something. Do you like it?"

    ------

    It was getting close to showtime. Feeling better, Nrajah shut her book and did some deep breathing as she changed course towards the general direction of the stadium. She didn't want to distract herself too much and risk being late, but she still wanted to keep her mind clear on the way over, so she thought over what she'd just read -- what she liked about the book, its characters, plot, and so on, even lightly critiquing just to really isolate the elements that made it a good story. It was a good technique for keeping her brain busy, but it only worked so long as nothing actively worried her.

    Alas, something did. It was subtle, at first, and Nrajah herself barely noticed. Her subconscious, however, set off warning alarms soon after she picked up on it. A certain, particular, innocuous noise, one that most people wouldn't necessarily find odd, but that Nrajah in particular had almost an instinct for, still programmed into her mind after all these years. A set of loud, heavy footsteps with a distinct pace, like shoes being purposely slammed into the ground a little harder than normal. They were only slightly less uniform than a march, and far more standardized than a casual stride, with no breaks in pace or volume. It had been so long since Nrajah had heard those footsteps, but there was no mistaking them. Her old rival Tina had arrived on the scene, and what misfortune that they'd taken the same path.

    "Well, Look what the cat dragged backed from the underworld." Tina said, getting in Nraja's way with her arms crossed. "What, was your mutant heart so vile that even Ammut spat it out?" She says, as she spits at Nrajh's feet. "You got fat, and your shoes are fucking ugly. But then again, what was I supposed to expect from someone whose parents apparently had a threesome with a cobra?"

    Nrajah took the verbal abuse with a straight face, breathing deeply to keep herself calm. She wanted to have so many different reactions -- some of them more passive, like bursting into tears or trying to put on a strong front -- and some more aggressive. She wanted to shout back, or even lash out, but now was not the time. Nrajah hated the way Tina spoke to her, to anyone, but she knew the large woman had a reason for that behavior. Aggression like that didn't come from nowhere.

    No, Nrajah had taken this abuse before, and was strong against it. It had been a while since she'd had to deal with it, sure, but the correct response was still carved into her natural instinct. With a slight hesitation, Nrajah gave her biggest, most beautifully uplifting smile, along with the most positive response she could muster. "Hello, Tina. Long time no see. Good luck at the tournament." That was all it had to be -- short, sweet and simple. Having said that, Nrajah tried her best to gracefully step around Tina so she could keep going. She was not interested in staying near the bully for much longer. All she could think was how long it had been, and yet Tina was the same person. As if she hadn't grown as a person at all over the last decade.
    Last edited by Cfavano; 05-20-2017 at 02:30 AM.

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  4. #24
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    Greta walked onto the campus posing as if the paparazzi’s camera were flashing. She ran a hand through her beautiful blonde hair and smiled at passing students. She had returned because of the tournament, but she wondered was it worth it? She smiled as she strolled through the grounds, but internally her demons still plagued her mind. It was two hours until the tournament began and she knew it would be a fierce battle. She was iconic in her own right. Her clothing line was flourishing, and she wore the best of the best. Her heels clicked as she walked taking in the sight of the school she had graduated from.

    She could see students with their phones taking her picture. She was used to the attention, and every chance she got she took a selfie with one of the adorable students of New Peaks. Time was winding down, and she had yet to take time to stretch and get in a workout.

    Kyami strolled through the campus his face buried into a book. He only looked up to respond to anyone who called his name. It was odd to see so many S1 ranked past students. He had already met N’rajah. She was by far his favorite. The previous leader of Imperius Gloria had his hands cut out for him in this tournament. He had met them all, all except Greta who he hoped to meet soon before the start of the tournament. She was known for her hair, and he wanted to touch it but knew not to ask. He wore some of her clothes, as her clothing line was indeed a popular brand.

    As he strolled, he couldn’t help but wonder how he had managed to not run into anything or anyone, but he didn’t have to wonder for long when he hit something that felt like a brick wall. His book went in one direction while his butt landed hard against the stone ground. He quickly looked up and saw a beautiful voluptuous woman with hair that made her form intimidating. It was her, it was Greta. She looked down at him and smiled, but he was already intimidated and the fact that she was reaching to help him up caused him to blush.

    “You…..you’re Greta,” Kyami said as she helped him to his feet.

    “Yes, I am, and you are?” Greta asked running a hand through her golden hair.

    “I…I’m Kyami,” he said nervously.

    “Awww, aren’t you cute,” she said looking at Kyami as if he were a lost friend. “I have heard about you. You fought in the recent tournament right? Runner up am I correct?” Greta asked with a hand perched on her hip.

    Kyami sighed and reached down to grab his book. “Yea you’re right,” he said Greta noticing his change in demeanor.

    “Now now never doubt yourself kid, after all every S1 started somewhere,” Greta said causing Kyami to brighten up a little. “You seem down, care to share?” she asked.

    “It’s nothing I want to worry you with Greta, it’s just, how do you do it? I’ve met every S1 here and you all seem to ooze confidence. It’s so surreal.”

    “The key,” Greta began, “is to be fabulous.” She bent down and kissed Kyami on the cheek, “be fabulous and believe in yourself. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go prepare. Will I see you at the tournament?”

    “Absolutely,” Kyami said with a smile. Greta returned the smile and strutted away, her heels resuming their clicking. Her hair swayed as she walked matching the rhythm of her strut.
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  5. #25
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    God forsake this school, he wasn’t sure if it were his English being bad or if he had legitimate issues with directions, but he had gotten himself turned around again. Where was the library again? Seemed strange that he was in a fight school and he was looking for a library, for books he had a hard time translating sometimes because the language was silly and backwards. Though Indigo was not the type to give up.

    His second year here was going to be more than just the kid with outrageous hair on the sidelines. That was after he found the library to work on a little project. Oh sake this school, he found himself at the dorm rooms how did he end up here? How had he gotten so lost? This was his second year here and he knew a lick of its layout.

    He felt like he should have known it by now. Be one of the awesome first year students who knew the school the next year like the back of his hand. It was when he spotted an individual heading towards the dorm rooms. Oh savior.

    “Hey!” Indigo called out heading in the direction of the individual, “I need your help.”

    Junkiro took a moment to realize the voice from across the path was calling out to him. He blinked a few times, reaffirming that indeed, the wild-haired kid was talking to him, then smiled, albeit weakly; he was too tired to put in maximum effort.

    "You need help?" Junkiro took slow steps towards the...boy? He was going to go with boy...and sat down on the bench off to the side of the walkway, obviously exhausted. "What do you need help with?"

    He stared up at the sky for a moment, still catching his breath. Yeah, Mr. Overmeyer had definitely worked him a little too hard. He needed to get used to this if he was going to repeat as a tournament winner....after a moment, he turned towards the boy again, wondering just what was going on. He appeared lost.

    Indigo looked at what would have been his savior, yet his savior looked exhausted. He was staring at someone of Eastern decent who looked weary. He seemed familiar to Indigo. A little light bulb went off in his head and he smiled a bit more brightly.

    "O, moya udacha," Indigo blurted out, "You are the champion student!" he said ecstatically, "See uh I was looking for the library. But just my luck to bump into you. It would seem to be. Uh what's the word. Fate we met."

    Indigo took a second placing his finger towards his lip in a moment of thought.

    "You look tired," Indigo finally spoke again, "So let me treat you. I have jello in my dorm. Maybe you have advice for an up and comer."

    Well, that wasn't creepy in the slightest. Fate that they met? Jello in his dorm? Junkiro raised an eyebrow quizzically. This kid was being somewhat suspicious...he doubted he meant it, but his choice of words was rather....creepy.

    "No thank you on the jello. I smell bad and I need to have a shower. Perhaps another time?" Junkiro politely declined the invitation; he would have offered to talk over lunch or something were he not smelling horrible and the legends tournament in a couple hours.

    "If you want to talk, though, perhaps we could chat after the legends tournament? I'll probably be hanging around here for a little bit, if you can find me." Junkiro was always glad to help if someone wanted it, so he left the option open for this boy as well.

    Indigo only began to realize how embarrassing his request was. He sounded like some Russian homicidal maniac. Like someone who lures champions into dorm rooms, offering some kind of treat, only to stab them in the dark. He stretched one of his arms and put a finger to his lips.

    "I still need to find the library," Indigo told him, "I am not a murder." That doesn't help Inga when you bring it up like that.

    He sort of made an exuberant hand gesture.

    "I want to fight you, killing you would not be good for me because then I wouldn't be able to fight you," Indigo turned pink in the cheeks a little, he was digging himself a hole, "I just. Oh how do you say it. Trying to be friendly."

    Yeah after you told him you weren't going to kill him And you wanted to fight him. That's not friendly.

    "You help find library and I buy you ice cream as a peace offering," Indigo added.

    ..why was he going into so much detail? Junkiro flinched a little bit. Another kid who wanted to fight him. He went into too much detail over why he didn't want the Japanese boy dead, to the point where it was just weird and uncomfortable. He probably didn't get social cues very well, by the looks of things.

    Junkiro pointed behind him, to a path marked out with dark gray sidewalk. "Take that path down to the education district. The library is right there in the middle. You can't miss it." Junkiro smiled as warmly as he could, trying to let him know he wasn't totally creeped out or anything.

    "Anyways, if that's all you needed, I really need to get to the shower. Nice meeting you." He took a few steps to his dorm, wondering if maybe he could skip the whole fighting thing. He was just too tired for it right now.

    Indigo closed his eyes for a second, inhaling then exhaling. He got ahead of himself, he had a tendency to do so. Especially when he got excited, he realized he might have come off too strong. That also was one of his bad, and annoying habits. He had a tendency to shine before someone warmed up to him. Like a blast of light peering into a very dark room, blinding those use to it.

    Indigo only called out with a, "Uh sorry. I do not know how to put it. I come off strong."

    Come off strong....? Oh god, was this kid hitting on him? JunKami was the power couple of New Peaks; didn't he know that? Or maybe he was just a transfer...well, it was possible, at least. Junkiro gave the boy a weak smile, trying to at least let the boy down easy; he didn't want to make him feel bad that he was already taken.

    "I am sorry, but I have a boyfriend! Your flirtation is flattering, but Kyami is the only one for me." Junkiro sighed wistfully, wishing his boyfriend could join him in his dorm to just relax; Kyami gave the best shoulder rubs, and his aching body could sure use one right about now. He began to trudge back to his dorm, giving the boy a wave. "I'll see you around sometimes!"

    At this point he forgot about the library for a mere second. English was a strange language sometimes. Because now the brunette, Asian, had passed off their exchange as flirtation. Wait he liked him enough to think they were flirting?

    All he wanted was the Champions knowledge. Now that knowledge was walking off from him. He’d let it go for now. Mostly because he was in a state of not really understanding how his English came off as flirtation.

  6. #26
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    The Legends Tournament seemed to be a feasible consideration to collect data. There was something exciting about New Peaks. Perhaps it was his own desire to fight stronger opponents, of course he knew his family would not simply accept him neglecting duty and just fighting the strong. He was currently reading one of his favorite books, which was obvious to tell merely from the worn spine of the book and bent pages.

    When a knock on the dorm door interrupted him. Closing the book he slowly got up from the bed to answer the door. It was Siu, they were not exactly personally close. They went to the same school that taught them the same style. Siu had left for New Peaks and he was left in China. Until his transfer a few weeks ago had brought them back in each other’s lives.

    “Nǐ xūyào wǒ,” [Need me] Fai spoke matter of factly.

    “Xiān mǎi wǒ wǔcān,” [Buy me lunch] Siu huffed, “We’ll get Pho.”

    Fai stared at her.

    “This isn’t a date,” Siu added, “Huòzhě nǐ wàngle nǐ wèishéme zài zhèlǐ.” [Have you forgotten why you are here?]

    “No,” Fai responded, “Let me get my book.”

    “Leave it,” Siu told him.

    Fia ignored her and walked over to his bed, smoothing out the crease he had created sitting on it and grabbing his book Kingdom of the Four Seasons. Siu snorted reading the title of the book, it seemed to him she was mocking him.

    “You still read that,” Siu scoffed, as he closed the door behind him.

    “I like it,” he said.

    “Isn’t it romantic?” Siu asked, Fai wondered if she had ever read a book in her lifetime.

    “No,” he told her, following her since she knew the school better than he did, “It follows four knights, who ride on horses who each were given a name that follows the seasons. They were chosen by the Emperor to protect China from supernatural invaders.”

    Siu made a face.

    “Don’t tell me you don’t practice any more,” Siu said turning the hall.

    “I still practice, but it is nice to catch up on a old favorite,” Fai told her.

    She just brushed her hair out of her eyes before leading the way without saying anything. When she stopped speaking, he opened his book to follow her, but continue reading. He was getting to the interesting part. Gimeng, one of the knights, was about to fight one of the oni general. It was a violent, but poetic scene something he liked.

    “The Legends Tournament is coming up,” Fai mentioned as they walked out onto the school campus. The air out here seemed much cooler out here than it did in the building.

    Siu shrugged, looking at one of her nails.

    “I get that coming to this school is new to you,” she says, “But the participants of this tournament are not that special.”

    “Then why aren’t you participating?” Fai asked her.

    “Too easy, there is no honor in beating the weak,”

    That sounded like an excuse. All though being here for only a few weeks he was still new on how this school mechanically worked. He’d figure it out. It was a matter of understanding something to be able to eventually exploit what he could manipulate. They continued walking again without a word to each other.

    Tā de dāopiàn chén rù shēngwù de ròutǐ shēn chù. [Gimeng blade sunk deep into the creature] Yòng qiángdà de xié gāng gāo'ěrfū hé ròutǐ de sīdài zhuāngshìzhe fēngjǐng. Xǐhuān tiàowǔ de huābàn. [With a powerful slash ribbons of gore and flesh decorated the landscape. Like dancing petals.]

    Siu clapped her hands together to get his attention, as the oni’s head rolled to the bottom trunk of a bamboo tree.

    “We’re here,” Siu told him.

    “Pho Ged-Da-Bou-Dit,” Fai read out loud, “Nà shì shénme?” [what is that?]

    “Food,” Siu responded in English, “Just get inside.”

    “Why is the name so odd?” Fai asked.

    Siu didn’t say anything and simply walked in, snagging a seat in the corner of the restaurant. The place was odd. Oddly American, he looked across to Siu.

    “Have you met Alexia, yet?” Siu asked, “Or at least seen her.”

    “Beside what you have told me, no,” Fai responded.

    Siu frowned playing with the napkin dispenser before responding, “What have you been doing this whole entire time? Reading that stupid book.”

    “Getting to know my new school,” Fai told her.

    “Nǐ shènzhì guānxīn nǐ de guójiā ma?” Siu asked her. [Do you even care for your country?]

    “Well,” Fai looked around the odd establishment, “I don’t care too much for this.”

    “Then shouldn’t you be doing more?” Siu barked at him.

    “Fēng qǐlái hěn qīng,” [Wind starts as a breeze] Fai remarked.

    “That’s just a lazy excuse,” Siu said and noticed he raised a brow at her.

    “You remind me of Guang,” Fai told her, “He always wanted to take action. And criticize someone for taking a more tactful approach. I do not like impatience. It’s the most foolish choice someone can make.”

    “Do not talk to me like you know more than me,” Siu huffed, “You are here because it is important to your family.”

    “True,” Fai responded seeing the relief on her face, he knew her type. Impulsive, always liked to win, would go to any lengths to do so. He had seen it before when watching her practice with other students. In many ways Guang was a lot like that too, but Fai was not, “But also true is that you have me and not Guang. Guang upon reflection would have messed things up. We are, but two rabbits in the field.”

    Siu made a face.

    “You have read that book too much it’s beginning to poison your mind,” Siu huffed.

    “And you fight like a monkey, and think like one too,”

    Siu glared at him.

    “It be in your best interest not to insult me,” Siu sneered at him.

    “What going to kick me off of the team if I do?” Fai asked, “Don’t be so petty.”

    “Then don’t insult me,”

    Fai merely narrowed his gaze and slid off of the seat. He bowed at her.

    “Zhídào xià yīcì,” [Until next time] Fai told her.

    “Where are you going?” Siu asked.

    “To do research and observe the Legends Tournament coming up,” he told her with a nonchalant wave goodbye. He saw his answer had aggravated her. That didn’t really bother him, he was not going to go down without all the information he needed in order to be successful.
    Be slaying in the shadows

  7. #27
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    Default Copost w/ Iwazuma

    Ayame's arms stretched out wide as she entered the gym in a pink and black crop top and spandex, her gloves dangling off the end of her duffle bag hanging from her shoulder. She shook her midnight black hair, perfectly messy as it fell just past her shoulders, begging to be tied back with a hair tie. It was her first time since she showed up at New Peaks, but she knew she'd be back in business with a few warm-ups on the bag. Surely a few of her friends would be here ready to spar; April fought Shotokan Karate, Luc was Muay Lao, Benny was Praying Mantis...Northern? Southern? All of them were capable juniors like her, certainly skilled fighters able to hold their own against her in spars.

    When fighting with her aura, however, she knew she could crush them into ash.

    As she stretched her arms up in a clasped streamline and rolled her neck side to side, Ayame spotted another junior she knew better than she really wanted to. Muffled thumps reverberated through the gym as she pounded again and again at the punching bag before her, the hunched spider-like figure of the four-armed freak swinging her fists to and fro with ferocity. An amused grin tugged at the corner of Ayame's lips as she watched, knowing exactly who the mutant saw in place of the bag. Seems like the rumors were true. She really has been training her butt off.

    What a perfectly good time to disrupt it.


    Ayame slowly approached as the other girl punched away, doing casual dynamic stretches as she walked. When the punches finally stopped, she quickly whistled to catch her attention and waved. "Yoo-hoo, Ilya!" She moved a bit closer, setting her hand on her hip with a friendly smile. "Already back at the bag, I see. I heard you've been training hard all summer!"

    Ilya had hoped that hitting the gym right before the legends tournament would ensure she could practice without being stared at, gasped at, and avoided. For the most part, she was right. Finding quiet places to practice during school hours were quite difficult, as bullies or just downright scared people were often in abundance, making life hard. She never wanted to be shunned; she got enough of that with her deformities as is. But now...it was like she was an alien. Even some of the parahumans acted as though she were a different species.

    For the most part, her ruse had worked. Only a few people were in the gym, and they paid Ilya no heed as she went at the sandbag like she were possessed, striking as hard as she could. Over the summer, she had trained harder than ever before, and it showed; she had begun to take on a bodybuilder's physique, and her pythons were showing a new layer of muscle. It was clear nobody wanted to take a shot from her now.

    As she began to cool off a bit, she heard a voice that made her grit her teeth; why was she here? What did she want with her now? If nobody were here, she'd give her a hole where her stomach was...but as she noted a teacher watching the students lazily, she reined herself in, turning back to see Ayame grinning at her like she won a beauty pageant.

    Something had begun to dawn on Ilya as the first week of school went by, which she had mulled over before, during the summer. Ayame...reveled in hurting people, didn't she? Or at the very least, she didn't care about others. She claimed to be in it for the fun, claimed to be the spunky action girl of everyone's hearts. But it had occurred to her that after she won, she had no doubt heard the cries of 'monster' thrown at Ilya's face. Yet she seemed completely unfazed by it. It was beginning to grow clear to her that Ayame was not to be trusted...by her or by anybody.

    And yet, she didn't want Ayame to know that, so she put on a ghost of a smile. "I train, yes." Her Czech accent was still quite powerful. "You sound surprised. You have not trained?" Part of her wanted the answer to be no, so that at the holiday tournament she could knock her lights out without even thinking. But part of her wanted to see that Ayame had improved...because victory would be even sweeter knowing that even at her best, Ayame would not make a fool of her twice.

    Ayame flipped the hair off her shoulders as her eyes noted the tension laced through Ilya's neck. Oh, yes. I've definitely still got her. She's just begging to hit me with all she's got. She shrugged back at her nonchalantly, her bag bouncing at her hip. Might as well give her some resemblance of hope. It'll be much more fun to crush. "Nah, I've been tapering this summer! Just letting my muscles unwind and loosen up, helps me learn new stuff, y'know?"

    "I see." A very blank look from Ilya, perhaps off-putting to Ayame, but she was really at a loss. Tapering? What did tapering mean? Was that some new form of training? Seems that way if it was helping her learn new things. So she had been practicing after all. Ilya nodded to herself, turning back to the punching bag. She had no interest in continuing a conversation with someone who probably was loathing this encounter as much as she was. "You should go to showers. You look like mess. Must beautify yourself before tournament, no?" Not that Ilya cared about looks...with half the school calling her a monster, makeup wasn't exactly going to make her look any more endearing. But anything to throw Ayame off, even a little...her punches resumed with increased fervor, the image of Ayame's face replacing the well-worn bag.

    A shimmering laugh came from Ayame's lips at Ilya's response, potentially disrupting of her newfound concentration. "Oh, Ilya, I just got here for training! I'll shower afterwards." Suppressing her giggle, she adjusted the strap higher on her shoulder. "Well, I'll leave you to it then. Keep up the tough work!" She bounced away, tightening her hair into a ponytail as she left.

    No use wasting time on that anymore.

    Thanks to Karma for the dandiest set
    Spoiler: RPs I'm in 

  8. #28
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    Friday, September 1st. 4:30PM New Peaks Time

    People had been shuffling into the stadium for about a half an hour now. Unlike most previous tournaments, this one had far more media coverage and less talent scouts. After all, these fighters were all established and had their claims to fame. Instructors at New Peaks, Vale Tudo champions, Fashion Icons, and more. In the locker rooms, they all were preparing for the massive spectacle that was to be the S1 Legends Grand Prix. Some were supremely confident in their abilities, like Victoria and Shotaro... while others were worried what might happen, such as Anna or Greta. Considering that all of the fighters present were more skilled and more powerful than the judges at ringside, worry was certainly a reasonable thing. There would be no interventions in the case of dangerous situations. Disqualifications would still happen, but the risk of injury was much higher for these combatants than for the normal students.

    Even so, the chance to find out who was the all-time best martial artist in New Peaks History was a mighty lure indeed. Though some of them were no longer fighting professionally, each of them had their pride as a warrior. That much would never change. Of course, the prospect of a fifty-thousand dollar prize was also a big selling point. Regardless of their motivation, they were all here for one reason... to test themselves against one another in the most prestigious tournament that New Peaks Academy had ever played host to. It would certainly be an event to remember.

    Just before the event began, the lights inside the stadium dimmed and the titantron flared to life. Spotlights of various colors flashed on and off and panned over the crowd. Over the speakers played Remember the Name, by Fort Minor. While the song wasnt about fighting in the traditional sense, it WAS about perseverance and success in spite of circumstances. Perfect for a competition between fighters who clawed their way from obscurity to become some of the mightiest martial artists in the world. The music was accompanied by video highlights of each participant's final tournament bouts, adding credence to the fact their names would forever be remembered at New Peaks Academy. Fitting, given the song that was accompanying the highlight reel.

    Vincento had reserved a group of four seats shortly after the tournament was announced figuring it would be himself and the usual group he was associated with. However, his recent falling out with Jun had changed that. Instead, he invited Daniel Donovan to join he and Cyst in his great seats. Three rows up and parallel to the center of the ring, the view of the action would be spectacular. His guests had not yet arrived, but that did not stop him from buying sodas and snacks for them before they even got there. Sure, it was nothing but sugar... but such an event was always a reason to indulge a little. Vince still hoped Albert would throttle Victoria, but the more he thought about it the more he had the hispanic woman pegged as the favorite to win. Still, part of him was holding out for her defeat.

    Alexia, as a faction head, was given front row seats at ringside. While she really had no stake in the tournament, she had of course thrown her bet in on Nrajah. The sole Parahuman S1, she was clearly the only participant that the Parahuman Initiative would get behind in such a tournament. A high-ranking student herself, Alexia couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. Sure, she was still one of the stronger fighters at the school... but she was a long way from being an S1. Regardless, she planned on keeping a sharp eye on every single fighter. Of particular note was Mike Overmeyer, who used MCMAP... the U.S. Military's replacement for the more lethal LINE style that her father had taught her. It would be interesting to see the differences between the two arts, at least that was what she thought.

    Then it happened... the brackets were announced.

    Up on the titantron, a tournament lineup flared to life. Names in each of the participants flashed repeatedly in the brackets, slowing their pace after a few seconds before remaining on the final results.

    Shotaro Yanmei vs Greta Tannberger
    Mike Overmeyer vs. Nrajah
    Albert Bosko vs Tina Martel
    Anna Jacobson vs Victoria Fuentes


    And with the brackets announced, the crowd roared in approval and excitement. The tournament would soon be underway, and with it the race to be known as a legend among legends.
    Last edited by Salroka; 05-24-2017 at 06:08 AM.
    Spoiler: Neat Stuff Within 

  9. #29
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    A Quick and Dirty Co-post by DawsCombine (Cyst) and Beta (Vince)

    She had never watched a live event, before. She had seen a few movies where people watch live events, but she had never been to one herself. Closest she ever got was sitting at ringside waiting to go beat the hell out of someone who didn't deserve it for money she needed to live. Now, she was watching two people beat the hell out of each other for fun. No money was involved, nobody was at risk of dying, and she wasn't even fighting. So why was she awkwardly pushing her way through the crowds? Well, the same reason she did anything she normally wouldn't. Because the chair she was moving towards had Vince next to it. She was a predictable sucker, but she was a happy one. She smiled at him, looking at the Titantron to see who was fighting. Shotaro vs. Greta. She hadn't had much interaction with Shotaro last year, but she knew his reputation. She nudged Vince with a grin. "This is gonna be the best..." It came as an excited whisper, as if she was trying to hold herself back from leaping out of her seat, running into the back rooms, and trying to fight both of them herself, despite how stupid that would have been. She was just that kind of girl.

    Well this was certainly a change of pace. Rather than being all serious and whatnot, Cyst was almost giddy. Vince certainly didn't mind the change, but his attention seemed to be focused mainly on the ring. His ability was one that allowed him to memorize fighting styles and attacks, as well as develop ways to defend against them. Still, he was able to reply a few seconds after being spoken to. [FF8C00]"I don't think Shotaro has a very good chance, though. If Greta plays defensively, he might tire himself out before he can take her down. Still, should be fun to watch. Caramel corn?"[/COLOR] he asked as he tilted a bag of the sweet snack toward the scrappy Krav Maga expert.

    She took a handfull of the stuff and popped one into her mouth, almost immediately letting it drop back out and looking at it confused. This was supposed to be a snack? It tasted like she was eating a slightly melted sugar cube wrapped in tofu. She shook her head and put all the pieces she didn't eat back, tossing the one she did onto the floor. She thought for a bit at the matchup potential and, given that she had no idea who Greta was, couldn't see anyone beating Shotaro. Straight up physical power was always the way she won matches. A hard enough punch could break any defense, no matter how strong. She sighed and leaned back, looking around. Then she had an idea. "Wanna make a bet? I bet you that Shotaro will win."

    Shit. A bet? Vince's father had always taught him to take an easy bet when he saw one, and this was no exception. Shotaro was strong and fast, sure... but Greta's ability was far more versatile and offered her a wide range of options. "Okay. I'll take that bet. I'll bet on Greta. But what exactly are we betting?" True. A bet with no stakes was not a bet at all. Granted, Vincento had everything he really needed or wanted... but it was for that very reason that the notion of losing something excited him. Since the bet was proposed by Cyst, he would let her determine the stakes. Well... that, and she had a lot less than he did. Letting her determine the bet ensured the stakes were within her means to pay if he won the bet.

    Well, he was right. She had a lot less than he did, and he had just about everything he wanted. However, it wasn't his material posessions that interested her... "If you win... you get one favor. Anything you want me to do for you, be it your homework or training or whatever. If I win, you take me out to a fancy dinner and foot the bill. Deal?" It was the best of both worlds. If she lost, he would just ask her do do something she would already say yes to doing. If she won, she got to go out on a psudo-date with the only boy she's ever had a crush on. She would have to pat herself on the back for being so clever.

    If he were as shrewd or merciless as his father, Vincento would practically be salivating at such a proposal. Any favor could be... well, anything. Instead, he already knew what he wanted. It was part of why he had also invited Dan Donovan to join him today. "Deal. I can accept that bet." Should he be the winner of the bet, his plan would get one step closer to coming to life. It was an admittedly petty plan, to some degree... but it was not a bad idea given how some other students had been acting lately.

    Well that couldn't have gone any better. She nodded and leaned back to watch the fight, her grin only growing wider. She couldn't wait for Shotaro to win. She wanted that dinner so bad it almost hurt... This might have been her one and only chance. Whatever Vince was planning, chances are she would accept it already. She didn't know if he would take her out like that, unless she won this bet... So she needed to win.

  10. #30
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    Co-Post - ShinobiSpirit and Myself

    The Legends Tournament had a certain ring to it. It conjured up feelings of excitement. It conjured up elated feelings that were swelling in his heart with nostalgic joy. It was a good reminder to watch the ones who had been doing it for a lot longer than he had.

    To understand one’s opponents was to practice their style in your mind. Fighting wasn’t just about the physicality of fighting, but practicing your moves in your mind, and conjuring their moves against yours. It was mental game as well as a physical. That’s why it was such khudshaya udacha or worse luck that he slept through his first alarm.

    Oh gosh! He sprung from his sheets quickly, he needed to get to the arena. Where was that again? If he had awoken from his alarm he simply could have followed the other students to the arena as he had done before.

    Now he was going to have to remember the path he took. Flinging clothing around in his room in the process making himself dizzy. Till he rushed out the door quickly, running down the hall. Purple bangs flying into his eyes, till he came crashing into the back side of another student.

    Not very graceful for a fighter, still the individual managed to keep his balance while tripping forward barely towards another student. Inga was staring at two Asian students, one a girl with long hair, he recognized her, but there was no name he could put to her. She was holding a small digital camera in her hands. The other student he didn’t recognize at all.

    He had sharp silver eyes, and black hair. He was just an inch taller than him and wore a rather deadpan expression. Not surprised nor annoyed that he crashed into him. Instead he stared at him without a word.

    The girl slipped the camera into his hands.

    “Watch carefully now,” Siu told him, glancing over at the purple haired student. With a shrug of her shoulders she turned on her heels to leave Fai to whatever business he wanted to direct with the other student.

    Earlier;

    “Wǒ yǒu yīgè rènwù gěi nǐ” [I have a task for you] Siu said bursting into the room without knocking. She was starting to really think she was the boss. Still he let her. There was no need to do anything right now. The wind did not strike first. It was symbiotic with what was around it.

    “Tīng tīng ba,” [Let’s hear it] Fai responded, only somewhat annoyed that she did not knock. About to head out of the room she raised a brow at him.

    “You will not need that,” she says in English pointing at his book.

    “Why?” Fai responds back.

    “Because you are on camera duty,” Siu says showing him a small digital camera. Fai only shifts at first staring at the camera.

    “Reading material for any intermissions,” he adds, “But why?”

    “You can’t be that dense,” she huffs.

    No, but he did want a direct answer from her.

    Currently;

    Fai was studying the student who bumped into him. A girl? With purple hair and blue eyes. At least that’s what Fai thought. She was shorter than him and wore a rather elegant arrangement of clothes, from the purple sweater top, to the laced cuffs. He was not expecting an apology or an argument, but was distracted enough that Siu took the chance to hand him the camera without another word she left him in the hallway with this student.

    “O moy,” the student blurted, their voice was elegant and enigmatic, maybe a bit too androgynous for Fai’s taste, but he waited, “I am so so so sorry.”

    “It’s fine,” Fai responded. This student was obviously not American considering the accent.

    “O, do you need to follow your friend?” the student asked.

    Fai turned to see Siu walking down the hall before turning back to the, boy?

    “No,” he replied shortly.

    Inga stared at the other student. He didn’t recognize him. Was he new? Oh! How rude of him!

    “I am Indigo,” he said with a hand out.

    Fai accepted it shortly.

    “Zhang Fai,” he responded.

    “Is that Chinese?” Indigo asked.

    “I am Cantonese,” Fai corrected, “And you? Your name?”

    “Moscow,” Indigo replied with a smile.

    Moscow, father had some business friends in Moscow if he remembers correctly. Strange though. This person in front of him was strange. The shape of their body was feminine enough, it might have been a flat chested woman or very feminine boy at this point. Fai was not the type to ask such questions out loud in fear of being disrespectful.

    However, how was he suppose to address this strange individual? Perhaps they could be useful though. Reading Indigo quickly, he could tell that he was the least threatening individual Fai could be seen with. It was mutually beneficial he kept a small association with Indigo.

    Fai pointed to the fading image of Siu as she turned a corner and disappeared.

    “My guide walked away. Would you mind taking me to the arena?” Fai asked Indigo.

    “Yes I can take you!” Indigo responded cheerfully.

    Except there was an issue. He didn’t quite know where the arena himself was. Ah, but he could follow the excitement. He’d at least look like he knew what he was doing. He stared at the digital camera in Fai’s hands and then there was a worn, well read book.

    Still he felt bad for bumping into him and had to pay him back. What could he do to offer repayment? Offering jello seemed to be some kind of American slang that made Americans think he was gay. Ugh. Grabbing Fai’s wrist, he flinched for a second watching him.

    “Please let me make up for bumping into you,” Inga said, “You like books. Good. I remember where the library is. After the tournament. Let me take you there.”

    Fai raised a brow. Looking at Indigo’s hand on his wrist. He only slightly shook it off.

    “Maybe,” Fai told him, “Can we get to the arena now? Before we miss something important.”

    “O da,” Indigo responds with a nod.

    Inga stared down the hall. Well, he’d start by going the direction the other student went. The young girl. That was a start. Stepping away from Fai he hopped lightly on one foot forward. With a little skip he turned to Fai.

    “This is exciting! And nostalgic!” he told Fai, “Do you think so?”

    Fai watched as Inga jumped and began to lead the way with a slight skip to their walk. What just happened? Was this individual unchecked in the mind? Or had a level of energy he could not understand?

    Fai stepped forward and began to follow quietly. Nostalgic? Fai did not know these fighters. Insightful would be more the word he’d use.

    “Nostalgic, how?” Fai asked.

    “I do not know,” Indigo responds at first, “I guess it is like. Mmm how do I put it. Sitting down and watching your favorite fighters.”

    “I do not know them,” Fai responds.

    He knew them from what he was told. But had not watch their matches in person. Now that was being taken from him because Siu wanted him to record with the camera.

    “It is - how do I put it” Indigo puts a finger to his bottom lip, “Byt' samym zakhvatyvayushchim.”

    “And that means?” Fai asked.

    “Most exciting,”

    “Are you on drugs?” Fai finally asked.

    “No, Eto sil'naya russkaya dusha, kotoruyu ya imeyu,”

    “Translate,”

    “Strong Russian Spirit,”

    Fai gave a side glance. That would be like saying all Chinese mothers are what do they call them in American, helicopters or tigers. He didn’t buy it. Maybe the kid was not on drugs, but he had too much pent up energy. Maybe he should steer the conversations elsewhere.

    He was messing this up, wasn’t he? Inga knew it. He wasn’t cut out for conversations sometimes. He felt like he was always messing something up because Fai was giving him this look like he was crazy. And had made the comment about drugs. Reality was he was just nervous and excited. Things never went well when he was a dangerous combination of both.

    “Sorry, I know I am weird,” he said opening the door for Fai, “I just - I am not a good combination of socially anxious. And excitement for the tournament.”

    Fai didn’t say anything. He didn’t need a full explanation.

    “So, you can tell me about the individuals then in the tournament as they come up?” Fai asked him.

    “O da,” Indigo said seeing a crowd of lingering students heading into the direction that must have been the arena.

    “I assume that is a yes?” Fai asked.

    “Yes,” Indigo told him.

    At least that was a start. If he was socially awkward and anxious it meant Indigo had no friends. Or few friends. So anyone to even pay them the slightest attention to them Fai got the feeling Indigo would hold onto that strongly. Which worked into his favor. Stupid kids who had no friends were easy to manipulate because they were desperate for anyone’s attention.

    Making it to the arena Indigo felt his blood swell again. He was too damn excited to simply sit in the ring and watch, but he had to. Didn’t he. He wanted the champion’s knowledge. Yet, it was nice to meet someone who was just as new to this as him.

    Just had to suck it up, Fai thought to himself. He tried to smile at Indigo, “Would you mind sitting with me?” he asked.

    Wow and here he had thought he had messed this up.

    “Of course!” Indigo shouted, but his voice was drowned out by other excited students talking loudly waiting for the match to begin. Making bets he was sure.

    Fai’s eyes were studying the arena. He rarely felt intimidated, but the crowds and the energy in this arena made him itch with bloodlust for a fight. He had never seen something so grand. China was known for its elaborate matches, but it did not compare to this. The Legends, huh. He’d like to fight the Champion someday. First he needed to take down the pipsqueaks. Every single one of them.

    “Let us find a seat,” Indigo said.

    This time Fai allowed them to lead him by the wrist. It was more important that Indigo believe they could be friends.

    Indigo had never been in an arena like this. None of the matches he had been to in Moscow were this big or elaborate. He felt his heart fluttering with anticipation. While he was excited he had maybe perhaps made a friend. He was about to make the realization the difference between his skill gap and the Legends about to fight.

    It made him determined to work that much harder. But it made him that much more scared that he would not be able to live up to the expectations he had for himself.

    It made it easier to know that he might have made a friend despite his rockiness with his socialization. He had to work much harder to be here one day. A Legend.

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