Post by The Crimson Ghost! on Feb 5, 2009 16:55:50 GMT -5
As a boy, Aito remembered his father as being a great man. He was known as "The Drunken Tiger" in the Japanese circuit, and despite being Chinese, Dano Chen was well received and extremely respected. By the time Aito was seven years old, Chen had reached superstar status, but never let it go to his head. Aito loved spending time with the man. With a bushy white mustache and long white hair that still showed no signs of balding, Dano Chen was red-faced and easily recognizable even at a distance.
The day at the boardwalk was as memorable as ever. Aito sat, eating his donut treat, on a bench with his father, who was liquoring up and watching the eye candy walk around. Dano always drunk from his personal flask, a thing made from deer hides, that was perfect for holding sake and keeping it warm. Aito ate in silence, simply enjoying the company, taking pleasure in the simplicity of the occasion. Just then, the man shook his shoulder readily, leaning in close, and pointing unabashedly towards the heavy chested jogger passing by. "That's the secret to life, kid. You see those fucking things? A man could survive a month!" With that, the old drunken bastard began laughing, with Aito soon joining. Even at 7 the boy was a large'n, built thick. It would be some time until he developed muscle to go along with the build. That was the greatest day of Komosube's life.
ENTER, WEEK BEFORE SHOW: Each strike the sumo landed rendered brick and cinder block into dust. He had them set, one after the other, sometimes destroying 5 at a time with an elbow, or a palm, or a closed fist. He had been away from GiW for a time, attending the funeral of a miserable old fucker who had really died long ago. He was into his practice, not noticing the buxom Japanese woman walking into the hotel main room. He didn't hear her at first, but smelled her sweat and perfume. His face scrunched at the audacity of her, not liking anything about the woman. Her name was Emi Hetsueda, and she was a semi-popular lingerie model in Japan. The two didn't so much date as casually screw once and a while. She pouted, lazing on the couch, watching him swig a cold can of beer, sitting next to her. He felt her eyes on him. "What do you want?"
Emi continued pouting, hugging her robe tighter across her formidable cleavage. "Why are you always fuck so hard? This is why we never get together, you ox brain! And there are more positions out there then doggy style!"
Komosube sunk deeper into his own head, fighting the urge to rip her head off by taking another swig. He spoke out gruffly. "Did you cum?"
"...yeah..."
"Then shut the fuck up, and get out of here. Don't you have thongs to sell?"
She responded by slapping his shoulder multiple times, none of which he felt. "Screw you, insulting my work! I give my heart and soul to a profession you would shame with your words, you know!" She got up and left back into the bedroom, leaving Komosube to the comfort of silence. The air conditioner felt good on his nude form, and the couch was comfortable. He thought of Aragato, and missed his friend. Aragato was the only one he truly enjoyed the company of. Sure, he respected the gaijin Prescott(even if he found the pencil-necked street walking pariah to be annoying at best), but Aragato had been there for him, for the good times and the bad. Aragato he could trust. Sitting back, and ignoring the blur of a half-clothed Emi leaving the hotel with a "fuck you" and a door slam, he still remembered his promise to Aragato.
I swear on my ancestors,
I will lay down my life for you,
Until it's expiration.
I will never forget or abandon our friendship,
Nor will I let the distractions or challenges of the world
Weaken this bond.
For now until destruction I follow you.
Finishing his beer, he would complete his workout before getting a plane ticket back to america.
ENTER, NOW:
(This is one of GiW's dark matches that they have during the week. The following match is Brandon McSkinny vs. Komosube. Both men in the ring. McSkinny circles Komosube, who walks straight past Brandon and reaches through the ropes, grabbing a mic.)
Komosube(Through translator, who stands in the corner.): You stupid, peasant round-eyes have grown complacent in my absence! No more, stinking excuse for fish offal!
(nothing but boos from the 20 people in the audience. McSkinny with a barrage of punches and running shoulder blocks and every attempt to bring the fight to Komosube, who doesn't even notice the strikes or moves.)
Continued: You think we grow soft on our promise? You think we would let these American hacks hold championships that should rightfully go to the Grand Imperial Empire?! You shitheads got another thing comming!
(Komosube paces around the ring, as McSkinny slams a chair unto the back and spine of Komosube. The power of the hit causes McSkinny to start shaking and drop the chair, trying to stop his limbs from vibrating violently. Hazel is about to DQ Brandon when Komosube stops her, speaking rapid-fire Japanese with his translator making sure she understands. She yields, and lets the match continue.)
Continued: Mark the words of Hiroshima, you docile American cattle! We will show you all our might, card be damned! But, you won't know who we make an example of until he is broken beneath the deft skill of Mr. Deathmatch, Aragato, and the power and might of Komosube!
(drops the mic, and lets McSkinny try to take him down for 5 more minutes. After this period of time, Komosube takes his right hand, and puts it square on McSkinny's chest. McSkinny tries to fight and reverse this, but to no avail. After one more minute, Komosube softly and without impact pushes McSkinny down so that his back is on the mat, and has the ref count.
1!!!!! McSkinny thrashes like an animal.
2!!!! Brandon beats and claws at the hand, even tries to bite Komosube's thumb, to no avail.
3!!!!!!! Komosube takes the hand from McSkinny's chest, and helps him to his feet. McSkinny looks close to tears, and Komosube bows to the competitor, looking like he is trying to comfort McSkinny, before the two walk out of the ring together. Camera fades.)
OOC: Ahhh, here I'm coming into the role of Komosube a little bit, but I still adhere to the need to include an on-camera trash talking segment. Maybe if I didn't, Aragato wouldn't have been so difficult to write? Who knows. But this one I'm proud of, no doubt.
The day at the boardwalk was as memorable as ever. Aito sat, eating his donut treat, on a bench with his father, who was liquoring up and watching the eye candy walk around. Dano always drunk from his personal flask, a thing made from deer hides, that was perfect for holding sake and keeping it warm. Aito ate in silence, simply enjoying the company, taking pleasure in the simplicity of the occasion. Just then, the man shook his shoulder readily, leaning in close, and pointing unabashedly towards the heavy chested jogger passing by. "That's the secret to life, kid. You see those fucking things? A man could survive a month!" With that, the old drunken bastard began laughing, with Aito soon joining. Even at 7 the boy was a large'n, built thick. It would be some time until he developed muscle to go along with the build. That was the greatest day of Komosube's life.
ENTER, WEEK BEFORE SHOW: Each strike the sumo landed rendered brick and cinder block into dust. He had them set, one after the other, sometimes destroying 5 at a time with an elbow, or a palm, or a closed fist. He had been away from GiW for a time, attending the funeral of a miserable old fucker who had really died long ago. He was into his practice, not noticing the buxom Japanese woman walking into the hotel main room. He didn't hear her at first, but smelled her sweat and perfume. His face scrunched at the audacity of her, not liking anything about the woman. Her name was Emi Hetsueda, and she was a semi-popular lingerie model in Japan. The two didn't so much date as casually screw once and a while. She pouted, lazing on the couch, watching him swig a cold can of beer, sitting next to her. He felt her eyes on him. "What do you want?"
Emi continued pouting, hugging her robe tighter across her formidable cleavage. "Why are you always fuck so hard? This is why we never get together, you ox brain! And there are more positions out there then doggy style!"
Komosube sunk deeper into his own head, fighting the urge to rip her head off by taking another swig. He spoke out gruffly. "Did you cum?"
"...yeah..."
"Then shut the fuck up, and get out of here. Don't you have thongs to sell?"
She responded by slapping his shoulder multiple times, none of which he felt. "Screw you, insulting my work! I give my heart and soul to a profession you would shame with your words, you know!" She got up and left back into the bedroom, leaving Komosube to the comfort of silence. The air conditioner felt good on his nude form, and the couch was comfortable. He thought of Aragato, and missed his friend. Aragato was the only one he truly enjoyed the company of. Sure, he respected the gaijin Prescott(even if he found the pencil-necked street walking pariah to be annoying at best), but Aragato had been there for him, for the good times and the bad. Aragato he could trust. Sitting back, and ignoring the blur of a half-clothed Emi leaving the hotel with a "fuck you" and a door slam, he still remembered his promise to Aragato.
I swear on my ancestors,
I will lay down my life for you,
Until it's expiration.
I will never forget or abandon our friendship,
Nor will I let the distractions or challenges of the world
Weaken this bond.
For now until destruction I follow you.
Finishing his beer, he would complete his workout before getting a plane ticket back to america.
ENTER, NOW:
(This is one of GiW's dark matches that they have during the week. The following match is Brandon McSkinny vs. Komosube. Both men in the ring. McSkinny circles Komosube, who walks straight past Brandon and reaches through the ropes, grabbing a mic.)
Komosube(Through translator, who stands in the corner.): You stupid, peasant round-eyes have grown complacent in my absence! No more, stinking excuse for fish offal!
(nothing but boos from the 20 people in the audience. McSkinny with a barrage of punches and running shoulder blocks and every attempt to bring the fight to Komosube, who doesn't even notice the strikes or moves.)
Continued: You think we grow soft on our promise? You think we would let these American hacks hold championships that should rightfully go to the Grand Imperial Empire?! You shitheads got another thing comming!
(Komosube paces around the ring, as McSkinny slams a chair unto the back and spine of Komosube. The power of the hit causes McSkinny to start shaking and drop the chair, trying to stop his limbs from vibrating violently. Hazel is about to DQ Brandon when Komosube stops her, speaking rapid-fire Japanese with his translator making sure she understands. She yields, and lets the match continue.)
Continued: Mark the words of Hiroshima, you docile American cattle! We will show you all our might, card be damned! But, you won't know who we make an example of until he is broken beneath the deft skill of Mr. Deathmatch, Aragato, and the power and might of Komosube!
(drops the mic, and lets McSkinny try to take him down for 5 more minutes. After this period of time, Komosube takes his right hand, and puts it square on McSkinny's chest. McSkinny tries to fight and reverse this, but to no avail. After one more minute, Komosube softly and without impact pushes McSkinny down so that his back is on the mat, and has the ref count.
1!!!!! McSkinny thrashes like an animal.
2!!!! Brandon beats and claws at the hand, even tries to bite Komosube's thumb, to no avail.
3!!!!!!! Komosube takes the hand from McSkinny's chest, and helps him to his feet. McSkinny looks close to tears, and Komosube bows to the competitor, looking like he is trying to comfort McSkinny, before the two walk out of the ring together. Camera fades.)
OOC: Ahhh, here I'm coming into the role of Komosube a little bit, but I still adhere to the need to include an on-camera trash talking segment. Maybe if I didn't, Aragato wouldn't have been so difficult to write? Who knows. But this one I'm proud of, no doubt.