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Recent Statuses

20 days ago
Current Never stop creating. Never stop improving. Live life fully, honestly, and the mystical adventure never ends. Thank you, Sensei. I think I'll train tomorrow.
9 likes
3 mos ago
My dreams are getting weird. They usually involve sterile lighting and a bunch of guys in labcoats discussing sedative dosages around me and getting really scared when i try to go to the bathroom lol
1 like
4 mos ago
i consume enough energy drink i changed my zodiac sign, i'm more taurine than any motherfucker born in April and i killed eleven people in that applebees two miles down the road
5 likes
5 mos ago
i be putting myself into situations
2 likes
6 mos ago
mom come pick me up there are big block letters that pop up in my background layer every time i do an action or punch an innocent bystander i'm getting scared
2 likes

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-1 Minute Prior-


Blaine.

Blaine, buddy...

I'm not gonna call myself ugly or anything, but I had a feeling that anyone distracted by me was gonna get just as distracted by Ben, if not more. I'm shorter and scrawnier, even if I've gotten a lot of progress out of Mom's training program.

...

Ben's jacket shirt wordlessly joined the small pile of clothes. As his second-in-command, was I, the right hand man, truly willing to not show solidarity? This was athletic, physical competition. As you're well aware, I'm far from a show-off, but could I leave him to his lonesome like that?

My hoodie followed.

Even if I was to be outshined?

My white, school-issued cotton tee, size M, followed

Even if I was to look foolish beneath the blacksmith's forged iron?

...Just my go-to undershirt left. A nondescript wifebeater, that had in all honestly seen the bedsheets more than anything like daylight.

To turn back now would be to admit defeat.

I may be a quitter.

I may halfass everything I do.

I may have a horrendous habit of self-defeat, be it psychologically or through my own misguided action.

I am all of those things and I do all of those things, as you're painfully aware.

However.

The image of Priscilla Montgomery, aura completely drained and riddled with slices, flashed through my mind.

...I refuse to bring these to bear when I have everyone else on the line. If I backed out, that would be weakness broadcast to everyone on the field— the enemy and my own comrades. Sports are as much psychological as they are physical, and the image I needed to project is none other than that of a man who knows what he's doing.

Who knows what he is capable of.

Who knows he will not, can not, and must not fear those that stand in his path to victory.

I will bolster. I will support.

I'll have to fight, for their sakes if not my own.

This was football.




In 2009, the USDA placed a ban on the import of all Japanese beef to prevent the Japan foot-and-mouth outbreak from reaching US shores. The ban was relaxed in August 2012. Shortly thereafter, Kobe beef was imported into the US for the first time.[11]




"Red, huh?"

I caught my bracer, applying it rather snugly to my wrist. If I was going to be shirtless, I didn't want anything loose bugging me and feeling out of place.

"Works for me."

Come to think of it, I'd always favored red over blue when the choice presented itself, even if I had no qualms with the latter. Maybe it had something to do with the trim of my high school's uniforms. Maybe it was the forests to the south in the autumn, and how beautiful I always found them. Maybe...

We'll push those Sandrakers off our world.

[VGW]
[VGW]
[VGTG]
[VGH]
[VAA]
[VGW]

...Shazbot
.

In any case, I had little time to mull it over.

Coach Roy had seen enough, and was ready for the game to begin in earnest

The shrill, classically gym-associated whistle sounded.

It was time.

I burst into action—

Moments too slow. Trad's team had possesion.

Quite literally, I had to switch gears straight out the gate. I'd intended a run down the side, but was forced to cut to a hard stop and react instead to the enemy's pace.

They'd set it. Not good.

"EVERYONE ON SOMEBODY!"

“Selena! Pass to Krysanthe!”

Was Trad's plan to call out passes? A risky one if I ever saw them...

He was his team's tank. It's a risky job, I would know, but not one that you did if you were dumb.

I needed to see if a pattern would emerge before I told people to start listening for his callouts. If I pulled that too early, I'd expect to be feinted within the next three passes.

For my part, I kept my eyes on the throng, trying to make sure that I filled whoever would end up as the gap in our defenses.
Yet
>Jii
>Ji-

it was late okay
Shinjiro Karasawa

"Oh look, now you scared her even worse than I did—"

Before Karasawa and the Beatnik could have reached a proper compromise, it had been proven to be as inevitable an impossibility as their respective hometowns acknowledging the worth of the others' pizza. Their snagged shot-taker had scurried speedily streetbound since their shouting had sufficiently sidetracked them, leaving the louts at a loss, looking laughably like losers.

This bit sucks.

However, what sucked worse was the immediate aftermath of the event, in which, before Karasawa had time to round on Beatnik or anyone else, boxer boy's phone had, for lack of a better term blown right fuck up in their faces.

All of their faces.

"ジイザス・クライスト!"

Ass hit grass, and the purple-haired esper's vision became stars. What the hell? A bomb?

His head was swimming. It would be a few minutes, even with how worryingly experienced he was at having his bell rung, to be back at full speed, but there was one thing that was already taking root.

You gotta be bustin' my balls, motherfucker.

Gradually, one could feel the temperature began to rise.
beatnik's fault
cutting it down to just the response to george so she isn't quite as swamped by stuff just happening to her
@banjoanjo@Krayzikk@GreenGoat

Shinjiro Karasawa

"Relax, Beatnik." he fumed, "I'm just of the same mind as Gloves over there— don't want her running off with that camera. 'Specially since she was here first outta all of us."
smart man forgot his tags @banjoanjo@NarayanK@GreenGoat
Shinjiro Karasawa

As if snapped out of his stupor, the camera girl's affectations of authority brought Karasawa's attention back onto her— and she was now trying to leave after snapping a whole truckload of photos. That on it's own didn't sit right with him, but there was other malarkey afoot atop that.

Malarkey that was irkin' him. Even in the low light, his attention to detail wasn't going to fail him that egregiously.

Think I'm born yesterday, do ya? Fuhgeddabout it.

Her efforts were rewarded with a firm hand gripping the back of her collar, intent on arresting her forward motion, and an annoyed snarl.

"And I'm damn sure your armband-less ass counts as interferin' with Judgement business too, Li'l Miss Paparazzi. What, you planning to sell those pictures off?"

He had run into Judgement and their screwy prioritization many times, and thus had gotten himself intimately familiar with the "uniform"— the ubiquitous striped green armband they all wore upon their sleeves and proudly displayed, flaunted, even openly presented to their quarries.

Judgement desu no!

The girl wore no such band.

No matter what his multifaceted opinion of the organization may have been, he wasn't going to take some stranger at their word as one of 'em if they didn't have the threads to match. If he had to hone his proclivity for particularity in the student council room all semester for something, then it was for times like these.
I’ll have something for ya this afternoon.
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