Post by Nail on Aug 23, 2010 18:00:14 GMT -5
Being a lonely and friendless Namekian on the planet Namek was not all it was cracked up to be, and it wasn’t cracked up to be anything. Nail continued his hermetic lifestyle for days, which turned into weeks, which in turn turned into hours. This only made sense to Nail because he had little math training.
Kame damn it there is nothing for a single playa like me to do. If only there some other freakish evil beings with which I could converse and have fun with, such as painting people’s nails horrid colors.
But there were no other such beings at the planet of Namek, and so Nail just sat and watched the days slowly change into more days, due to the excess suns that burned the planet with eternal daylight. Nail passed his days in his usual style, drawing pictures in the cave that he inhabited, laying on his back and counting the stars while the cool wind blew, and training. The pictures were of furry creatures that he wished existed such as a long necked beast he called a gerafeef, and he never laid on his back watching stars because there were no stars out at night, there wasn’t even night. The training is where Nail really got his thrills though. Besides his regular boulder battles that were described in the previous installment of Namek Shore.
I must get even stronger to prepare for the day when I actually have something worth my time to do, even if that day is still far in my future. Although perhaps a trip to the local dojo in a town that I have yet to deface is in order. Damn soliloquies that no one can hear are sure pointless and not quite worth my time, but that is not my problem because I have no one to listen to my pointless badgering.
And so Nail flew off through all the boulders in his way to head to the Tired Balzak fighting club. Most of the fighters at this particular establishment were older Namekians who wished to relive their glory days of fighting and training.
Who will challenge Nail of the Manila Thriller fame?
I wish…to compete against you…you young whippersnapper with no respect.
Nail soon found the source of the raspy voice. The Namekian was far older than Nail, and wore little more than a heavy Turban on his head.
So be it old man, let us begin.
And Nail stripped to his fighting sweats, which were slightly less baggy and far lighter than his training sweats. Nail swiftly moved to put on some music which was pleasing to fight to, namely, the song Fight Music. Then both fighters stepped into the ring and began to spar. Nail came at the old man with a fast and furious attack style, but the older Namek, named Harold (a strange and foreign name indeed) slowly sidestepped the attacks, even though they continued to come at faster and faster speeds.
Damn you Harold, be hit by one of my attacks!
And so Harold let Nail land a punch square on his unclothed groin. Nail thought that this was to be the turning point in the battle, and sadly it was. Harold stumbled backwards to his news before launching himself backwards in the air, flipping, and then landing on his feet. Slowly Harold stepped forward, and then he attacked with such a speed that seemed impossible with his old and saggy balls. Nail was thrown backwards repeatedly, bouncing of the ropes and slamming on the ground. It was not long before Nail struggled to return to his feet.
Old man, now you die. I have been saving a technique that I have just recently learned. SPLITTER BALL!
And Nail took to the air and launched a large ball of ki from his left hand. Harold dodged it with a roll to the side and was about to start mocking Nail when the dark green ki blast slammed into the back of his head. Shortly after contact the splitter ball had annihilated Harold’s head. Nail slowly stepped out of the ring and left the Tired Balzak, it was time for him to rest and meditate, and wait. Nail had a lot of waiting to do and slowly drudged back to his cave to nurse his wounds, and by nurse his wounds I mean wait for his innate regeneration ability to kick in.
Word count: 737
Kame damn it there is nothing for a single playa like me to do. If only there some other freakish evil beings with which I could converse and have fun with, such as painting people’s nails horrid colors.
But there were no other such beings at the planet of Namek, and so Nail just sat and watched the days slowly change into more days, due to the excess suns that burned the planet with eternal daylight. Nail passed his days in his usual style, drawing pictures in the cave that he inhabited, laying on his back and counting the stars while the cool wind blew, and training. The pictures were of furry creatures that he wished existed such as a long necked beast he called a gerafeef, and he never laid on his back watching stars because there were no stars out at night, there wasn’t even night. The training is where Nail really got his thrills though. Besides his regular boulder battles that were described in the previous installment of Namek Shore.
I must get even stronger to prepare for the day when I actually have something worth my time to do, even if that day is still far in my future. Although perhaps a trip to the local dojo in a town that I have yet to deface is in order. Damn soliloquies that no one can hear are sure pointless and not quite worth my time, but that is not my problem because I have no one to listen to my pointless badgering.
And so Nail flew off through all the boulders in his way to head to the Tired Balzak fighting club. Most of the fighters at this particular establishment were older Namekians who wished to relive their glory days of fighting and training.
Who will challenge Nail of the Manila Thriller fame?
I wish…to compete against you…you young whippersnapper with no respect.
Nail soon found the source of the raspy voice. The Namekian was far older than Nail, and wore little more than a heavy Turban on his head.
So be it old man, let us begin.
And Nail stripped to his fighting sweats, which were slightly less baggy and far lighter than his training sweats. Nail swiftly moved to put on some music which was pleasing to fight to, namely, the song Fight Music. Then both fighters stepped into the ring and began to spar. Nail came at the old man with a fast and furious attack style, but the older Namek, named Harold (a strange and foreign name indeed) slowly sidestepped the attacks, even though they continued to come at faster and faster speeds.
Damn you Harold, be hit by one of my attacks!
And so Harold let Nail land a punch square on his unclothed groin. Nail thought that this was to be the turning point in the battle, and sadly it was. Harold stumbled backwards to his news before launching himself backwards in the air, flipping, and then landing on his feet. Slowly Harold stepped forward, and then he attacked with such a speed that seemed impossible with his old and saggy balls. Nail was thrown backwards repeatedly, bouncing of the ropes and slamming on the ground. It was not long before Nail struggled to return to his feet.
Old man, now you die. I have been saving a technique that I have just recently learned. SPLITTER BALL!
And Nail took to the air and launched a large ball of ki from his left hand. Harold dodged it with a roll to the side and was about to start mocking Nail when the dark green ki blast slammed into the back of his head. Shortly after contact the splitter ball had annihilated Harold’s head. Nail slowly stepped out of the ring and left the Tired Balzak, it was time for him to rest and meditate, and wait. Nail had a lot of waiting to do and slowly drudged back to his cave to nurse his wounds, and by nurse his wounds I mean wait for his innate regeneration ability to kick in.
Word count: 737