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| Nice for once.; Stealin the Senzu. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 12 2009, 01:24 AM (59 Views) | |
| Kuhn Kyojaku | Apr 12 2009, 01:24 AM Post #1 |
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Vegeta's Destroyer.
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| Word Count is halved due to Henchmen racial trait. | | 1,595 Words. | Kuhn was a pirate. And with the job description came some hefty prerequisites. Fighting, medical knowledge, mechanical knowledge, licensing, pilot licensing, and a degree in the culinary arts. Over time Kuhn had learned to be a jack of all trades, but a Master of deception above all. “I’ll tell your students the best story they’ve ever heard Korin, one straight out of my home planet.” With the senzu bean safely tucked away, Kuhn was going to abide by every rule. He was only one slip away from trouble. "I'll need some water." Kuhn grabbed the nearest cup, engulfing its contents. The ultra divine water, unbeknown to the white cat and Kuhn, induced horrible hallucinations in Changelings. Kuhn shook violently, dropping to the floor and going into convulsions. It was the time of night that made Kuhn uneasy. The moon centered in the night sky and the lack of clouds, gave everything an ominous glow. If it came down to it, Kuhn knew he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a shadow and an actual object. He shifted uneasily, balancing his weight on his toes and then back onto the heels of his feet. “Please,” Kuhn muttered underneath his breath. “Don’t let anything go wrong.” The girl made an animalistic noise. It gave Kuhn the feeling that something inside her throat was trying to claw its way out. “Breaking the window is the most important part of the plan.” She was speaking to all of them, but her eyes darted between her shoes and the center of the circle made by all of them standing next to one another. “Do you guys understand?” The urgency in her voice is what caught Kuhn’s attention. Kuhn didn’t know her name, nor did he know any of the other people in his immediate vicinity. The group of them---five in total---had met underneath the moon’s masquerading light, without any hesitation or information beside the meeting place. They were here on a mission; there was no reason for any of them to know each other. Secrecy made things easier. Kuhn strained his eyes. First he tried to open them wide, like the white owl he had seen on television. But that only made the bottom part of his eyelids water and release a flurry of vindictive tears. After wiping away at the tears, he narrowed both eyes conspicuously. Behind his simplistic black ski mask with tiny eye slits no-less, everything became harder to see. “I’m going to throw the brick into the building’s front door.” The girl’s voice was easy to hear, but the rest of her was hard to see. Like him, every person in their tiny circle was dressed completely in black. “Once the glass shatters, the night security patrol will come investigate.” Kuhn bit his lip, tightening the lines round his lips in response to the leader’s order. “From there, follow my lead. We’re going to run around the building and make our way inside.” Her voice was rushed, but not anywhere near demanding. She spoke in a soft, rhythmic motion, reassuring her motley group of untrained spies but ensnaring them in her plan nonetheless. “Does everyone understand?” Finally, Kuhn noticed, her eyes darted away from the floor. While the darkness still shrouded her mask, he noticed her head move upward. Kuhn nodded instinctively, bobbing his head up and down mindlessly. There wasn’t enough light to actually catch onto his awkward way of saying yes, but the woman’s unexpected change in demeanor prompted some kind of agreement. “We’re moving.” And as the eerie silence was thrown aside by their leader’s reassuring voice, Kuhn’s heart began to pound in his chest, the bottom of his feet itched against the hard reality underneath him. His eyes strained to see something, anything in front of him. His name was Duke. Kuhn only knew his name because his dad was shouting the name at the top of his lungs. “Stop peeing on the damn carpet Duke!” His father, like usual, had given into his primal urges. It was much easier to scream and yell at the dog, than to accept the reality of the situation. Duke was a three month old puppy, and puppies peed when they had to. “What’s this Dad?” A shaky and unconvinced Kuhn refused to look directly at the puppy. “Kind of question is that?” Kuhn’s dad answered caustically. Stupid questions irritated him, dogs irritated him, Kuhn irritated him. “It’s a damn dog, what did you think it was?” Another abrasive answer. Kuhn though was undeterred. No amount of animosity could keep him from enjoying the gift his father had been pressured into buying. “Come here Duke, At-ta boy.” He was clapping his hands, trying to get the dog to notice him. He event bent down on his knees, trying to make himself seem smaller than he really was. “I’m Kuhn, boy. I’m seven years old and we’re going to be partners.” Speak calmly; it was the number one rule on all of those television shows where people dealt with animals. Kuhn watched them religiously. He knew the crocodile from the alligator---“it’s all in the nose”---he said often. Kuhn could tell the difference between a dog and a wolf---“look at the ears guys”---he exclaimed. And above all, he knew the most important detail of all. You had to treat animals with genuine respect. Kuhn extended his hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you Duke, welcome to the family.” “His days as a puppy are numbered, you hear that kid?” Kuhn’s dad spat out the words viciously. Kuhn knew the difference between venom and poison too. “Venom”, he cleverly explained to Duke, “had to be injected into the body to do bad.” Duke panted in response. “Poison is different. You have to touch that to get sick Duke. “Kuhn caressed his dog, pressing his hand onto the dog’s back and brushing his hair back and forth. “So I think dad’s words are more like Venom.” Kuhn’s dad scowled, put off by Kuhn’s clever interjection. “You’re too good for your own good kid. Lucky you ain’t mine, lucky I love her enough to show you some respect.” In retrospect, the man would have certainly picked to keep his thoughts to himself. But in the end, Kuhn knew it and he knew it. Duke was now more family than he was. “Heel boy.” No matter the circumstances, animals always had to be treated with respect. So when Duke was teething, the stage where the little rascal chewed on anything, edible or not, Kuhn refused to reprimand him. “Stop it Duke.” Gentle as ever, Kuhn refused to do anything more than roughen up his voice. “I mean it boy!” Kuhn tried to keep the dog from biting his toes, picking up the puppy sheepishly. He had heard of people who were too rough in their puppy handling and ended up hurting their dog in one way or another, Kuhn had promised himself he wouldn’t be like them. “Can’t do much harm from here, huh Duke?” Kuhn’s mocking laughter was short lived; toes were not the only thing Duke enjoyed biting. The sound of a muffled bark gave it away, not unlike air escaping an old and forgotten bicycle tire. Duke’s teeth sank into the fleshy part of Kuhn’s shoulder, that’s to say, all of it. Kuhn let go of Duke in surprise. The sting of his shoulder, the blood that trickled from the wound, it was almost surreal. But the reality of things was that Duke had just been let go, and was on a collision course with the ground. And even though Kuhn was sitting on the ground, the thud played out like two fast speed iron-cast trains colliding. Duke’s yelps of pain replaced the sound of gasoline tanks exploding. And Kuhn’s bloodied shoulder played the part of the dead passengers. “I-I’m so s-ss-sorry.” Kuhn gushed between bouts of tears, hugging Duke closely. The bite wound didn’t hurt at all. Duke was a robust puppy, between the barking and the biting. Then, Duke became a robust dog. He was the kind of dog that scared old ladies on the side walk and little kids on the beach. “He’s the size of a baby cow”, someone said once. But they were wrong; “baby cows are called calves.” He was always ready to defend Duke. Kuhn though, was not scared by the size of his Rottweiler. He cared for the dog, grooming the black fur on Duke’s chest. He brushed the black fur on Kuhn’s back and combed the brown spots on his chest and legs. For Duke’s stomach, Kuhn used his bare hands; it was a sensitive area. The dog always arched it’s eyebrows in amusement to Kuhn’s affectionate grooming ensemble. The two brown patches of fur above his eyes were constantly arched it seemed. Kuhn never missed a chance to groom Duke. “Yeah, I have a dog, his name’s Duke. He’s eight years old, give a take a month or two.” Kuhn said in a matter-of-fact sort of way. The way the older kid had asked him bothered him. The taller, all around better upperclassmen, were not well known for being kind. This guy, in particular, had approached Kuhn with the hood of his sweat shirt up, casting shadows in all the right places. All the guy needed was a sickle, Kuhn was sure he could lead souls into the netherworld on his part time at least. The man only asked him about his pet, grunted, and gave him a piece of paper. |
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| Kuhn Kyojaku | Apr 12 2009, 01:27 AM Post #2 |
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Vegeta's Destroyer.
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| Word Count is more than 1,500. Be sure of it. | He did it because they were right; whoever had written the paper was right. Duke was treated with respect and kindness. But for every Duke out there, there was a batch of three or four animals that were deposed and forgotten. “They deserve better.” Kuhn’s thoughts were muffled out by the sound of glass shattering. This was the point of no return. The leader, clad in black, had thrown the brick and the glass had given way to their demands. In his mind, he could see the brick slamming into the front of the glass doors. The glass would crack first, tiny crevices creeping through the entirety of the crystalline rectangle, forming erratic circles before the whole thing collapsed. As their leader, the one with the reassuring voice had explained, in the chaos that ensued they would have a chance to sneak in. The constant thud of their black shoes against the plain and gray concrete kept Kuhn’s mind from traveling into possible scenarios. He wouldn’t explicitly admit it and he would nod his head reassuringly when prompted to do so, but his quivering lips said different. When the ten running feet finally died down, Kuhn’s eyes could see again. It was a reinvigorating experience, huddling underneath the faint light given off by a run of the mill lamp post. Kuhn’s eyes were fixated by the luminescent white, turning his back to his other four companions. “Pass me the can of oil.” Said someone in the near distance, forcefully retrieving Kuhn from his midnight reverie. The ski mask meant that Kuhn didn’t know who he was retrieving the can for, but he still managed to rummage through the bag strapped to his side. In the particular moment, every action felt dragged out. Running his fingers thorough the bag was hard enough. The trick was avoiding the sets of power tools they had packed with them. One wrong move meant Kuhn might have to end to an in injured finger. He made note to keep away from the right side, where he had last felt the mechanical drill. “Here we go.” Kuhn said amiably, “Let me just shake it.” Kuhn’s wrist flicked the orange canister back and forth, rattling the can’s innards. A final flick and the orange canister was airborne. It sailed through the air for a few seconds before the guy with gruff voice caught it. “Thanks” he replied roughly, bringing the can up to silvery doorknob. In the span of a few minutes, Kuhn had become a vandal. Breaking a window wasn’t all that condonable, but it was nowhere near breaking and entering. His lip was quivering again. “Alright, I got it.” They were all huddled in a circle again, but the one who was talking was the guy with the gruff voice and the orange canister. He had sprayed the aerosol onto the doorknob and then jammed a screwdriver into the keyhole. “It’s nothing professional, but it gets the job done.” There wasn’t any overzealous show of affection or congratulatory cheers. There was just an unspoken agreement between the five intruders to be. “Everyone knows where to go, right?” The reassuring voice again. Kuhn nodded his head again, bobbing up and down like a buoyant ball dropped into a body of water. Kuhn did not wait for further instructions. The girl with the reassuring voice had made sure they understood what was expected of them beforehand, and Kuhn’s duties included exploring the factories nether regions. Kuhn found it somewhat fitting. While the factory was small---nowhere near the size of his high school, a place for about fifteen hundred people---it had quite a few levels underneath of the first floor. Kuhn was the team’s gastroenterologist; he was going to explore the inside of the factory’s bowels. The lack of security personnel did not irk him. Kuhn imagined though, what it would have been like fighting off a security guard. “I’d hit him square in the jaw, first off.” Talking to himself helped stave off the fear, his lip was no longer quivering. Kuhn’s mind envisioned a bumbling, overweight, and inept security guard chasing him down the blackened hallway. “He’d be wearing a cheesy, light blue colored uniform, the kind of blue that’s supposed to make people comfortable.” Decided Kuhn, still talking to himself. “Then he’d probably trip and fall, curse under his breath, and I’d get away no problem.” The adult to be clapped his hands together, emphasizing the fun he was having writing the hurried screenplay in his head. Luckily for both Kuhn and the bumbling security guard, the broken glass doors at the front of the factory warranted more attention than the dark, empty, and gloomy hallways. The pathway into the underside of the factory was unguarded, the boy didn’t need to hurdle any obstacles. All that the factory called from him was a leisure walk down a flight of stairs. “I found it. The factory has a basement.” Kuhn spoke into his communicator, the single radio the female leader had given him to reach the other four. “And we’ve got plenty to liberate here.” Kuhn’s voice was hurried. He wished the other four strangers were here to see it. The room passed the blank, oak wood, door was garish. The walls were painted in an array of colors. Different hues of red, blue, and yellow that were obviously used in an obscene manner. No one in a sane state of mind would combine the colors like they were now, geometric shapes plastered along the walls and the floor. The room had an odd, hypnotizing quality. But what was worse was the smell. It was an overwhelming smell, akin to walking through the perfume department of a large commercial store. It would have been pleasant if there wasn’t so much of it. As it was now, Kuhn could barely breathe amongst the pungent odor. The cages were thinly veiled, hidden behind a sheet of iridescent white cloth. In his first look around the laboratory, Kuhn had overlooked the row of sheet-covered cages. Immediately, he rushed over to the cages, his hands grasping the edges of the sheet and pulling backwards. Inside of the cages were live animals. Or what Kuhn assumed were live, only out of force of habit. Kuhn tapped the front of the cages. His fingers worked meticulously, rapping the metal against his nail was a cheap way to stir some of the animals from their slumber. Aside from their languid postures, where most of puppies and kittens hid their heads using their front limbs, Kuhn guessed they were alright. Not including their more sensitive noses, that part of their anatomy had probably been irreversibly damaged by the factory’s constant output of perfume. Kuhn began to arduous task on his own, counting the caged animals and then springing them from their tiny, personal versions of hell. The five of them exited the factory without much trouble. Fortunately, the animals were lethargic enough to handle without much trouble. Between the five of them, they used the sheet as a makeshift bucket. It was their captain’s idea. They dumped the pups and smaller cats into the sheet, stretched out by each of them pulling on it simultaneously. With plenty of night left, they exited the factory unnoticed. Not bothering to stick around and find out whether or not the security personnel were still investigating the door. “Good job everyone.” Kuhn was glad to hear her voice. It reminded him of how Duke made him feel, at peace. “We’ve helped save this group of animals from a life not worth living.” She clapped her hands, elating her own mood and that of those around her. “But what do we do now?” The severity of the situation finally reached Kuhn’s core, he looked at the female through the slits of his black ski mask and spoke. “What happens now?” Kuhn’s hands were petting a sleeping kitty, it purred underneath the warm of his touch. “Where do the animals go?” The kitten meowed, its soft voice resonating with Kuhn’s questions. “Do they get adopted?” Behind her mask, the girl was pressing her lips together. The thin lined formed by her lips was a barrier of sorts. The barrier blocked her words from reaching Kuhn’s ears. “They’re going to be euthanized.” Another female voice from someone who hadn’t spoken before. She was concise. Every word she used added to some unseen quota of hers, she dared not speak more than needed. “They’re too sick for anything else. We take them out of their misery.” She took Kuhn’s end of the sheet, brushing him away. Kuhn ripped off his ski mask and pulled away the black cap that hid his head. “How does this make sense?” Kuhn spat, trying to rid himself of the doubt. “Aren’t we supposed to help them?” Kuhn picked up a puppy; it fell limp over his wrist. “Weren’t we going to give them a second chance at life?” The puppy’s breathing was labored, wheezing between breaths of fresh air. The woman who had told them what to do and how to do it was ready to end the discussion. “We don’t have the money and we don’t have the time. These animals die humanely. You should count your blessings.” The discussion was over; he was left to find consolation in the thought of dead animals. "You alright?" The white cat poked Kuhn in the face with his cane. Then his stomach, chest, and nether regions. The Changeling spit up a few reminders of where the hallucinations came from and narrowed his eyes. "You tried to kill me you stupid cat!" Kuhn's scream rocked the small places' foundation. In the ensuing chaos, he flew off. A senzu bean richer. |
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| Biito | Apr 14 2009, 03:41 PM Post #3 |
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7% Good. 93% Bad Ass.
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Kuhn [ Stealing the Senzu: Complete ] [ + 460 EXP // + 100 Zenni ] Reward: Senzu Bean |
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2:28 PM Jul 11