| Shy | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 1 2010, 08:21 PM (75 Views) | |
| Deleted User | May 1 2010, 08:21 PM Post #1 |
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Deleted User
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Given Name: Shy Other Names: Lem Navi Race: Human Physical Age: Early 30's Actual Age: 22 Hair Color: Green Eye Color: Brown Skin Complexion: Brown Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Body Type: Lanky with a concave body which looks as if it is folding in on itself. A pair of brittle matchstick chicken legs, a slender sleek frame with mussed Wet hair which hangs low, covering the face. If seen from afar one could mistake Shy for being a chick, a testament to good genes and the exorbiant Wallstreet metropolitan scene. HISTORY Wednesday night, 2300 by his watch. Shy is just combing home from a long day's work. Flying from Cholace to Briant, driving across the sun scorched Badlands, dodging bandits and viscious dinosaurs, all to hand deliver a stupid computer chip to some bastard in rags. Say what you will about the maddening stress levels and exhaustion, the pay is excellent; if Shy's fully decked out five star suite's amenities are anything to go by. A loaded bar, 24/7 room service, three personal maids, a heated waterbed, golden toilet seat, massage chairs, professional therapists at his beck & call, the place had the works. Not to mention his gold laced company credit card that could afford damn near anything save a KDF battleship. Yes, the hijra had everything an everyman could possibly dream of, but somehow it wasn't enough. Shy would come home and even though the building vibrated and hummed with life, the flawless fengshui and amazing atmosphere boggled his mind, and he had access to gourmet meals- it still felt he was missing something. It was like there was a hole in his body that was eating away at everything. He found himself getting sick, but no doctor knew the cure. Shy was finding less & less joy in the activities which seemed to run his life. Even the women were starting to look the same. It was almost as if he was going through the motions, like nothing mattered anymore. He sighed as he flipped on the television, what was wrong with him? As he searched station to station, and the nubile masseuse released the corded tension in his shoulders, his mind began to wander. Shy reflected on all the events of his life, his accomplishments and triumphs, people had always congratulated him on a job well done. But he'd never felt like he was doing much, he had never pushed himself to his limits. School had been simple, he could dose off and pass with flying colors. BMT's standards had dropped to depressing levels, even at 50% he was still leading the pack save for a token few. And now in Wallstreet, he was fencing black market goods to enemies of the state and skimming off the top on a regular basis. No-one suspected a thing. <Damn, I must be doing something wrong. My sister Susie never has this problem. She's so full of life, dammit we work the same job! How come she isn't hating it like me?!> Shy exhaled and dismissed the therapist. He didn't need this, he had the biggest Trade of his life tomorrow. Catching a plane to some place called Euphor, gaining access to a locked compound and giving some fanatic ki-haters the means to take down some haughty Saiyans. Deluded enough to believe they can create some type of utopian esque ki-lover city, some people will latch onto anything. Shy turned off the TV, he'd had enough soul searching. With a sigh he pulled off his crumpled business suit and went to take a shower. That night, sleep was hard to come by. BING! 0830 by the Bossman Serulan's watch, he'd overslept! Shy cursed as he wrenched off the covers and threw on a suit. Half running he grabbed his suitcase and tie, rushing out to his car. His hair was a mess and he was starving but he didn't have time for that crap. <Eat at the airport.> He only had forty-five minutes! In the mad rush to catch his plane, Shy starts weaving through traffic. 90 clicks per second, without a cherrytop in sight, there'll be time to spare! As Shy guides the sleek foreign Viper G-class through the mash of assorted vehicles he starts messing with the radio. "Doo-do-dah-do-da-dah-doo-dah-duum." Shy sings as he leans forward to grab his IPOD. HONK HONK. <Oh shit!> Shy jerks the wheel and mashes the break, too late. CRASH! The Viper jerks and he's flung into the windshield. Glass shatters, the chair slings out, and he is sent flying a good thirty feet. The world is spinning, he can hear people screaming. <Something, why am I wet all of a sudden?> His head droops, but he manages to fight it off. <Gotta get up, gotta make the meeting.> Shy pushes himself off the ground, he looks to the Viper's ruined frame. <Damn.> Whee-oh, whee-oh. With pinpoint accuracy the ambulance lands and files out the paramedics. <Must be getting evaluated.> Shy laughs, sending painful spasms to his neck. One of the workers must have seen because a kid in blue is suddenly all over him. "Sir are you okay? Sir, sir, let me help you.." "Get away from me!" Shy snarls, batting away the kid's arm. "Sir please, I'm a professional." He tries again, Shy grabs his collar and slams him against the hood of a car. "Don't need no stinkin' hospital." Shy snaps on a staring woman, "This your car?!" The medic reaches up and starts fiddling with Shy's neck, "Appears to be a severe case of whiplash..." The irate Shy pushes him away and approaches the woman on shaky legs, "I need to get to the airport. Maam, its a matter of life and-" <Oof!> Shy winces as another spasm goes through his neck. "Come with me sir." The kid says grabbing onto Shy's sleeve. "Call me sir, one more time..." Shy hisses giving the young man the evil eye. Noticing the hostility in Shy's voice the kid backs off, "B-but I'm trying to help you..." In the corner of his eye Shy notices a sliver of movement, its the bastard who wrecked his ride! "Get back here you!" Shy roars, forcing past the gathered crowd and making a scene. The chase is long winded, the man proving himself quite physically gifted despite his misleading form. After a heated scuffle in an alley, diving through traffic, scaling a fence, and racing an elevator, the chase ends at the top of the building. At this point a good fifteen minutes have elapsed and Shy's pissed as all get out. "Baka! Because of you I had to miss my flight! Do you have any idea what kind of an impact this is going to take on my job? I'm out of $640 because of you!" The fat man is silent as ever, yellow eyes staring blankly ahead. This only serves to tip the irate Shy into a further fury. "Well? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?!" His accusations are met with more stony silence. "Tch, listen you..." Shy says walking forward with stiff strides. He's heaving with anger, and balls up his right fist. WHAP! The man's head snaps back but his body doesn't move-not an inch. <What the hell?> Shy thinks withdrawing his punch. He takes a few steps back and sinks into his boxer's stance. Click, click, the sounds of his black Oxford's hitting with each light hop. The fat man smiles, spreading his arms wide. "Come and get you?" Shy balks, the sheer arrogance of this freak was astounding! He takes off at a run, slamming into the bastard's midsection with a series of jabs and heavy crosses. It was on the twelth blow that his foe finally reacted, stepping outside his ratio the barrel chested lumberjack sweeped Shy's feet from under him. With a grunt the larger man lifted his size 15 Timberlands and proceeded to stomp Wallstreet's posterboy man into oblivion. With each bone cracking hit Shy rolled to one side in a lame attempt to alleviate the pain. On the fourth swing the green haired skeleton grew bold, snaking out his leg and giving the burly giant a swift kick in the gonads. Jumping to his feet he snatched a fistful of the redneck's beard and rammed him full force with his knees. The large man rocked back -grabbed Shy in midair and then used his momentum to slam him back onto the concrete. "Ah!" <He's like a machine...why the hell is he still standing?> Shy mused as he pulled himself off the floor. He put up his dukes with some difficulty, as always the Bastard was grinning like a fool. "Gonna wipe that grin off your ugly mug-rah!" He lashed out with a couple of wild haymakers. Weaving underneath his opponent's right hook Shy returned with a side piercing kick to the head, the force of which shoved the mystery man into the rickety railing. Pushing off the creaking rail he raised his left hand laughing his fool head off. Shy's lungs were burning, he didn't have time for this crap. "Hey jackass!" He called sprinting forward. As he zeroed in on his target he sprung up with a spin kick from the depths of his being, "Get a loada this!" The Bastard tried to dip at the last second but his knees bucked and he caught the steel tipped shoe on his temple instead. The Fat Man stumbled back catching himself on the wall. He glared at Shy, the taunting smile long gone from his features. Clinching his fist tight he raised both arms and spread his fingers wide. "You'll wish you never done that." He says in his too thick Waster accent. Something shifted in the air, an ill wind kicked up causing old newspaper and Autumn leaves to dance about the battle field. Shy realigned his footing, <What kind of fighting was this?> The more he scanned the man's body for any signs of openings, the more he didn't like the setup. Something was different about this guy, most would've given up by now but he seemed to be enjoying this! "DESTRUCTIVE...." <What the hell?> Shy could feel the butterflies gathering in his stomach, the hairs beginning to stand up on the back of his neck. The man's arms began to radiate a soft purple which was quickly intensifying. Bastard's brow was dripping beads of sweat, whatever he was cooking up was certainly quite taxing. Shy's eyes widen, <Could the KDF's powers be weakened from their high altitude?> "WAVE." Nothing could have possibly prepared Shy for the next several seconds. An immense heat flooded the area, the ground trembled, and a massive burst of light burst forth from the Bastard's hands. This magnificent glittering aura absolutely devoured the twenty five foot distance between the two fighters, and had Shy's survival instincts not been on full blast, he too would most definitely had been incinerated. Shy grunted as he tumbled along the uneven manmade turf the fabric of his Capsule Corp jacket being ripped to pieces. He stayed on his stomach, eyes wide, jaw touching the floor. Two feet to his right, there was a massive smoldering cinder where a pop machine had just stood, the entire area encompassing it had vanished. "Oh my God..." Shy whispered, his voice had lost all its base. "Hah, haaaah..." The Bastard ragged breaths resembled those of a Demon, the plaid cloth covering his arms had been burned to ashes. Shy turned to the source of the ki attack, "What are you?" BANG! Before he could finish his inquiry he was thrown to the floor by a man in an armored suit. OOF! "Freeze halfbreed scum!" Suit #1 screamed while burying his chunky looking laser rifle into Shy's forehead. "The hell is this?" Shy gasped as he was rolled over and handcuffed. "Get the other one!" One of them yelled, followed by the rifle's telltale TWEEW! PHEW PHEW! The Fat Man took a blast to the face and returned with a flaring ki ball of his own. "Argh!" "Omigod!" "Ken!" Shy was quickly forgotten as the heavily armed team swarmed over to assist their bleeding ally. Three rushed ahead brandishing their rifles and firing blindly. "Heh, heh, heh!" The Bastard's haunting laugh was growing fainter as the air grew more and more tainted by the red wind. Shy's stomach was doing flipflops, he craned his neck to see what was going on. The soldiers had pushed the Fat Man to the edge of the building. "Stop, there's nowhere for you to run!" Bastard said nothing and merely raised his left palm. The men recoiled back and tightened their grips, a few were shaking in their boots. "Ha ha ha! Hey, hey, Wallstreet!" Bastard called waving Shy over. "Get a loada this!" He snarled throwing up both his hands, "Solar Flare!" "Ahh!" Shy copied the Fat Man's move and clinched his eyes tight. When he opened them again everybody was stumbling about, one's rifle was on the floor. Shy hopped up and followed the Bastard's trailing tattered shirt, "Wait up!" "Heh, ha...Sorry kid, I got places to be!"Coming up against the rusted green fencing the Fat Man vaulted over the top and fell seven stories. Shy gasped, pressing himself against the gate. Before the Bastard smashed against the floor his ki flared up and he soared away. "Whoa." Shy whispered pulling off of the gate. "HEY! THERE'S STILL ONE LEFT! SHOOT HIM!" <Shit!> Shy dove past the incoming gun fire and rolled to regain his step. Crawling for all he's worth he rounded the next corner and stared at the massive open space. <7 stories. There was no way he could survive the fall. Then again...> Shy looked back to the approaching shadows and swallowed hard. <Being swisscheesed isn't a much better option.> With a grunt he throws himself over the ledge and catches himself on a street lamp. "Ugh!" He doubles over clutching his stomach, "Gotta watch that." He mumbles as he slides off and lands on a billboard. Shy hops from landmark to landmark, slowly making his way to the second floor. He pays the soldier's no mind, praying that his half-assed Parkour will keep him out of their sights. <Whaddya know, its Susie's room.> He could make out his sister's frizzy brown mop from the ledge. Taking another leap of faith he cleared the distance and planted himself on her balcony. <Whew.> Fishing out his switchblade he jimmied her window and slide inside. "Mornin' sis!" Susie set down the phone, "Shy?" She turned gatching a glimpse of the green haired blur as the door slammed behind him. <Okay, okay, which way?> Shy looked from right to left, both needed elevators and he didn't have much time. <Screw it.> He thought lunging for the stairs. Throwing himself against the door he knocked some random paper pusher down the stairs. "Oops, sorry!" Shy yelled sliding down the banister. Upon arriving the bottom floor he hopped off and bolted through the corridor. <Jesus, I shoulda been a marathon runner.> He thinks as he pushes open the oak double doors, "Safe!" He yells pumping his fist in the air. "Freeze! Hands where I can see'em!" -Only to find himself face to face with a kneeling KDF firing squad. Shy sucks his teeth and lies on the ground, <Today just isn't my day...> |
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7:26 PM Jul 10