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[b][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/i1VZ5Nn.png[/img][/center][/b]
[hr][center][h3][b]March 20th, 2005[/b][/h3][/center]
[center][b]Chinatown, New York City (9:50 PM)[/b][/center]

[color=seagreen]"Alright. Time to get serious."[/color]

I should be stunned as my opponent recovers from being thrown back by the power that runs through me, but I’m not— I should be. It almost feels like I’ve lost control of my body as the only language I can speak is through my fists. I go to open my mouth and there’s nothing and I’m rushing my enemy as if he is prey. I’m not sure why I’ve lost myself but I feel like there’s an inkling somewhere trapped in my mind. I’ve never fought an opponent that wasn’t some thug bearing down with a .22 in one hand and a switchblade in the other. I’ve never been in a real fight, the closest thing I’ve known to this being when my brother trained me in the martial arts… to find my center; but right now I’ve lost that center.

The kid in green and gold attempts to sweep my feet, and… the next few minutes go into a blur and I can feel the fury between our movement as we exchange blows and I feel pain rise up in my body. The momentum slows when  I find myself knocked back into a collection of garbage cans.
[i][indent][h3]THNK![/h3][/indent][/i]
[sub][color=A6A6A6]“Ow...”[/color][/sub] I mutter, my head shaking as I do so as the rolling glint of the amulet I wanted the Professor to ask about rolls from my person and onto the alleyway floor. My adreniline is still high, but with my momentum stopped I can finally think and breathe. 

I push my hands to the floor as I stand up, stretching back to alleviate some of the sensations from my back from the crash landing.

[color=A6A6A6]“Tch. You’re good. Who are you?”[/color]