Post by The Crimson Ghost! on Feb 5, 2009 17:18:40 GMT -5
He had felt the kick to his gut, and though doubled over from the sudden pain, he could not help but grin in victory. He had read up on this move of Robert's, the "White Out." Komosube understood that sorts like these had an ego that often outweighed there careers. Roberts would try and end this with his trademark move, despite the fact that Komosube was far too large to try such a maneuver on. That it wasn't even close to safe to trust that a simple toe kick would subdue Aito long enough for such a complicated move. He understood that this was the trick. This was the opening.
And it worked. Komosube felt his own arms draped over his own chest, as if he were to sleep in a coffin. Let Travis think you're out. Let the gaijin trust that you're out on your feet. Hearing the audience cheer moments before the theoretical impact was his cue, and the fat-necked, snot nosed disgusting pigs didn't fail him.
(Now)At that moment he tensed every muscle in his body, and straightened out, hoisting Roberts into the air over him and away, like European catapults. Komosube felt a sick satisfaction watching Travis's nose and mouth crash against the top turnbuckle, and hearing the dull thud that hopefully was the breaking of the nose caused Komosube to laugh. He had this one, he knew it. Now to take the beanstalk to the top rope and drop him on his head, as was Komosube's way of ending the match. He'd rack up a win for himself, declare it a win for Global Domination, and step closer towards claiming immortality in his own way. He might even let Donovan on to this secret. Someday. He was so absorbed in the thought of claiming his reward from this victory that he didn't even realize that the fans were cheering for Brandon Brown. He merely heard charging behind him, and turned around to calm down Aragato or Savage, to assure them that he had this one in the bag. He never saw the boot smash him under the chin, launching him off his feet. In the weightlessness, he was transported.
He made sure not to make any sound as he knelt beside their bedroom, wanting to see if they would talk about him this night, or maybe love. It did not disgust him that his parents had sex, but it confused him greatly, and he wanted to understand what the appeal of it was. (One!) He heard his name mentioned, and didn't even breathe. His mother had found his American magazine that he had stashed in his bedroom, and his heart skipped a beat. He was somewhat hoping his dad would find it, for he knew that his father would take pride in his son's taste in women. He slightly bit his bottom lip, listening carefully.
His mother: "It's not healthy, a boy his age. Please, talk to him about it, your his father, and it's your job to teach him about these things."
His father: "Eh?! Nonsense! Listen, the boy's curious, I don't get the harm in studying. You wouldn't take away his math lessons..."
Mother: "...! That is not the same thing at all. That comparison is so asinine, Dan. Please, I don't know why you have to fight me on this. Talk to Aito, please."
Aito didn't hear any conversation after that, and when he heard soft huffing and thumping, he as gently as he could slid the shoji door a fraction. (2!!) His parents had a fancy American futon complete with sheets and blankets, on their hard wood floor. He saw the silhouette of her back and tip of her breasts in the moonlight, atop the stocky shape of his father, and smiled slightly. Even though he didn't understand it, he knew that when they did these things, that it was good between them, that there were no important problems. He closed the screen before any of them saw him spying(he also understood these things required privacy, somehow.) and made his way to his bedroom. Lying on his bed(it was elevated by a frame, instead of a mattress on the floor), he reached underneath him, he pulled out the "Juggs" magazine a friend at school gave to him, and looking around as if there were eyes in his walls who spied and disapproved, he turned to his private page, lecherously staring in silence. 3!!!!! IT'S OVER!!!!
30 minutes later, backstage, he put his fist through Declan Prescott's wall. Cara hid behind her desk, with the rest of Global Domination glancing at Komosube(except Calypso Desmona, who glared at Aragato in silent wide-eyed fear.). Some, like Savage, looked impressed. Almost intimidated, but merely just amazed at Komosube's display of rage. Deathman just stared on, arms crossed, title nonchalantly slung over his shoulder. And Lord Hastings was unreadable, staring in silence. For 3 more minutes Komosube shouted at the top of his lungs in Japanese and destroyed the office(just like Aragato a week ago.). Finally, he glared at Cara, pouring with sweat, still in his sumo thong. From the back of the room, his translator...translated.
"This is how we handle things?! Letting American has-beens run amok on MY MATCH?! You think I enjoy that I have a loss record to that hippie with delusions of grandeur?! LOOK AT ME, YOU WRINKLY NECKED SHITHEAD!!!!!! Not much is keeping me from throwing you out the goddamn window, so don't give me cause by looking down like spineless symbiote you are! FUCKING DAMN!"
He sent his fist crashing into her desk, just the edge. The entire frame shook, and a picture of Deathman raising the GiW title above his head fell from the wall. Komosube then backed away a little.
"But I know you weren't alone in your incompetence. Where was my team, where it mattered?! HUH?!"
He spun around, getting right in Hasting's face. Hastings merely stared straight ahead, a face of stone and about as readable. Komosube didn't care, though. He just continued mad dogging the Lord.
"Hey. Immortal. Where were you? I saw Aragato and myself out there fighting that oversexed roundeye Chris Austin and Oinker-Sama Jack Ryans. I saw our Champion, Lord Deathman-San(nodded once in respect to Deathman, who merely tilted his head, watching silently) doing his damndest to fight off that fat black bastard and Trailer Trash Red Bull. Where were you?! It's Global Domination, not Hiroshima alone!"
Hastings didn't speak for a moment, then looked straight at Komosube.
"You will address me as Lord Immorta-"
"FUCK OFF!" Komosube didn't feel especially witty tonight, and had no patience for the quirks of his teammates tonight. Soon, he set his sights on Savage, and walked up to the Aryan. If someone had walked in, the height difference would have been extroardinary, and might have even caused a chuckle or two.
"And you. You failed us in WW2, and you're failing me now. Your supposed to be AMAZING! Donovan isn't supposed to-Hell, I'M not supposed to worry about carrying your weight for you when you decide to be a fucking Capitalist coward and run from your problems! Is such cowardice a trait of the master race?! Well, FUCK OFF TO YOU, TOO!"
Komosube actually reached his hand out, placing it on the forehead of Savage and pushing him away, in a show of bullyism(AUTHOR'S NOTE:err...let's pretend that's a word.). Savage wanted to rip Komosube's head off, and Komosube wished he would try, but the "Brutal Enigma" contained himself. Soon, Komosube turned around, facing Lord Deathman. Deathman actually smirked a little, raising his chin.
DO YOU HAVE A COMMENT FOR ME, AS WELL, KOMOSUBE-SAN? I AM OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS., said Deathman in a tone that indicated that he was not open to suggestions.
Komosube and Deathman stared each other down for a long minute and a half. Sweat came from Komosube's forehead, but he merely grinned wide after a moment.
"No, you're the one doing his job. Good job!"
Komosube threw Deathman a thumbs up with his left hand, while clasping Deathman's shoulder with his right, patting the Lord in a friendly gesture. Deathman looked down at the contact, looking to be very amused and confused at the same time. Komosube was distracted from his rage for a moment, when he realized that Cara had been trying to get his attention, by raising her hand behind her desk.
"Erm...well, Komosube, I u-understand your anger, and believe me, I find it an injustice what they did to you. And, at Guerrilla Warfare, you'll get your rematch against Travis. Better yet, to make sure there will be no funny stuff, I'm making it a triple threat. Meet your other opponent, Donovan Hastings."
Komosube looked at Donovan, who stared back at him, with that same catatonic stare. After a moment, Donovan took a little ball from his pocket and chucked it on the floor, watching it bounce back to his hand, while Komosube grinned wide at the realization that he might get his revenge after all.
THOK!
OOC: Goddammit, wish I remembered how I got the flashback effect on the other boards, it'd be great to restore the awesomeness of the 'underwater' feeling...Fuck. Oh well.
And it worked. Komosube felt his own arms draped over his own chest, as if he were to sleep in a coffin. Let Travis think you're out. Let the gaijin trust that you're out on your feet. Hearing the audience cheer moments before the theoretical impact was his cue, and the fat-necked, snot nosed disgusting pigs didn't fail him.
(Now)At that moment he tensed every muscle in his body, and straightened out, hoisting Roberts into the air over him and away, like European catapults. Komosube felt a sick satisfaction watching Travis's nose and mouth crash against the top turnbuckle, and hearing the dull thud that hopefully was the breaking of the nose caused Komosube to laugh. He had this one, he knew it. Now to take the beanstalk to the top rope and drop him on his head, as was Komosube's way of ending the match. He'd rack up a win for himself, declare it a win for Global Domination, and step closer towards claiming immortality in his own way. He might even let Donovan on to this secret. Someday. He was so absorbed in the thought of claiming his reward from this victory that he didn't even realize that the fans were cheering for Brandon Brown. He merely heard charging behind him, and turned around to calm down Aragato or Savage, to assure them that he had this one in the bag. He never saw the boot smash him under the chin, launching him off his feet. In the weightlessness, he was transported.
He made sure not to make any sound as he knelt beside their bedroom, wanting to see if they would talk about him this night, or maybe love. It did not disgust him that his parents had sex, but it confused him greatly, and he wanted to understand what the appeal of it was. (One!) He heard his name mentioned, and didn't even breathe. His mother had found his American magazine that he had stashed in his bedroom, and his heart skipped a beat. He was somewhat hoping his dad would find it, for he knew that his father would take pride in his son's taste in women. He slightly bit his bottom lip, listening carefully.
His mother: "It's not healthy, a boy his age. Please, talk to him about it, your his father, and it's your job to teach him about these things."
His father: "Eh?! Nonsense! Listen, the boy's curious, I don't get the harm in studying. You wouldn't take away his math lessons..."
Mother: "...! That is not the same thing at all. That comparison is so asinine, Dan. Please, I don't know why you have to fight me on this. Talk to Aito, please."
Aito didn't hear any conversation after that, and when he heard soft huffing and thumping, he as gently as he could slid the shoji door a fraction. (2!!) His parents had a fancy American futon complete with sheets and blankets, on their hard wood floor. He saw the silhouette of her back and tip of her breasts in the moonlight, atop the stocky shape of his father, and smiled slightly. Even though he didn't understand it, he knew that when they did these things, that it was good between them, that there were no important problems. He closed the screen before any of them saw him spying(he also understood these things required privacy, somehow.) and made his way to his bedroom. Lying on his bed(it was elevated by a frame, instead of a mattress on the floor), he reached underneath him, he pulled out the "Juggs" magazine a friend at school gave to him, and looking around as if there were eyes in his walls who spied and disapproved, he turned to his private page, lecherously staring in silence. 3!!!!! IT'S OVER!!!!
30 minutes later, backstage, he put his fist through Declan Prescott's wall. Cara hid behind her desk, with the rest of Global Domination glancing at Komosube(except Calypso Desmona, who glared at Aragato in silent wide-eyed fear.). Some, like Savage, looked impressed. Almost intimidated, but merely just amazed at Komosube's display of rage. Deathman just stared on, arms crossed, title nonchalantly slung over his shoulder. And Lord Hastings was unreadable, staring in silence. For 3 more minutes Komosube shouted at the top of his lungs in Japanese and destroyed the office(just like Aragato a week ago.). Finally, he glared at Cara, pouring with sweat, still in his sumo thong. From the back of the room, his translator...translated.
"This is how we handle things?! Letting American has-beens run amok on MY MATCH?! You think I enjoy that I have a loss record to that hippie with delusions of grandeur?! LOOK AT ME, YOU WRINKLY NECKED SHITHEAD!!!!!! Not much is keeping me from throwing you out the goddamn window, so don't give me cause by looking down like spineless symbiote you are! FUCKING DAMN!"
He sent his fist crashing into her desk, just the edge. The entire frame shook, and a picture of Deathman raising the GiW title above his head fell from the wall. Komosube then backed away a little.
"But I know you weren't alone in your incompetence. Where was my team, where it mattered?! HUH?!"
He spun around, getting right in Hasting's face. Hastings merely stared straight ahead, a face of stone and about as readable. Komosube didn't care, though. He just continued mad dogging the Lord.
"Hey. Immortal. Where were you? I saw Aragato and myself out there fighting that oversexed roundeye Chris Austin and Oinker-Sama Jack Ryans. I saw our Champion, Lord Deathman-San(nodded once in respect to Deathman, who merely tilted his head, watching silently) doing his damndest to fight off that fat black bastard and Trailer Trash Red Bull. Where were you?! It's Global Domination, not Hiroshima alone!"
Hastings didn't speak for a moment, then looked straight at Komosube.
"You will address me as Lord Immorta-"
"FUCK OFF!" Komosube didn't feel especially witty tonight, and had no patience for the quirks of his teammates tonight. Soon, he set his sights on Savage, and walked up to the Aryan. If someone had walked in, the height difference would have been extroardinary, and might have even caused a chuckle or two.
"And you. You failed us in WW2, and you're failing me now. Your supposed to be AMAZING! Donovan isn't supposed to-Hell, I'M not supposed to worry about carrying your weight for you when you decide to be a fucking Capitalist coward and run from your problems! Is such cowardice a trait of the master race?! Well, FUCK OFF TO YOU, TOO!"
Komosube actually reached his hand out, placing it on the forehead of Savage and pushing him away, in a show of bullyism(AUTHOR'S NOTE:err...let's pretend that's a word.). Savage wanted to rip Komosube's head off, and Komosube wished he would try, but the "Brutal Enigma" contained himself. Soon, Komosube turned around, facing Lord Deathman. Deathman actually smirked a little, raising his chin.
DO YOU HAVE A COMMENT FOR ME, AS WELL, KOMOSUBE-SAN? I AM OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS., said Deathman in a tone that indicated that he was not open to suggestions.
Komosube and Deathman stared each other down for a long minute and a half. Sweat came from Komosube's forehead, but he merely grinned wide after a moment.
"No, you're the one doing his job. Good job!"
Komosube threw Deathman a thumbs up with his left hand, while clasping Deathman's shoulder with his right, patting the Lord in a friendly gesture. Deathman looked down at the contact, looking to be very amused and confused at the same time. Komosube was distracted from his rage for a moment, when he realized that Cara had been trying to get his attention, by raising her hand behind her desk.
"Erm...well, Komosube, I u-understand your anger, and believe me, I find it an injustice what they did to you. And, at Guerrilla Warfare, you'll get your rematch against Travis. Better yet, to make sure there will be no funny stuff, I'm making it a triple threat. Meet your other opponent, Donovan Hastings."
Komosube looked at Donovan, who stared back at him, with that same catatonic stare. After a moment, Donovan took a little ball from his pocket and chucked it on the floor, watching it bounce back to his hand, while Komosube grinned wide at the realization that he might get his revenge after all.
THOK!
OOC: Goddammit, wish I remembered how I got the flashback effect on the other boards, it'd be great to restore the awesomeness of the 'underwater' feeling...Fuck. Oh well.
