Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → The Way of Moderation has ended (page 566)

Okay you lost me... >_> IC? OOC?

Ah, mucho better... :P I suck when it comes to shortened lingo like that...

I just realized you insulted me a couple times...

And you are reading this thread, you say....

OoC = Out of Character - When you are you with a liking for gay porn and stupid jokes.

Whoo, quick, preemptive action!

If that is meant to insult me... It didn't.

So, entrytiem... Not in a writing mood, so most likely it is not very well written.

--

Cenere stared at his image in the mirror. This was one of the times he had simply zoned out, and thus had been standing like that for the past five minutes before actually blinking. At least it felt like five minutes. Or ten even. He gave the image a look before starting to investigate a few of the cuts and bruises on his right arm.
It had already been a long day considering he had not slept for what slowly became the 30th hour. Besides having followed Strop around since the morning before, he had simply refused himself the sleep when he finally got home at dawn. It did not seem important, and it would just ruin his sleep pattern if he went to sleep in the middle of the day anyway, so instead he had been trying to clear out the mess of his room. This in basics consisted of kicking dirty clothes around the room, before pushing it under the bed, and remove all drawings and papers that Strop most likely would look through if, or rather when, he had the chance. After that he had used his time on staring emptily at himself for no other reason than his brain seemingly restarting.
Most of his body had gone into a state of numb pain like his usual headaches, so it was relatively easy to ignore, but a few bruises cut through the defence and troubled him. His right shoulder, for example, had a massive bruise from a panicing newbie that had rammed into him while fleeing the overly enthusiastic ninja pony. It probably wouldn't have been a problem if that particular newbie had not been wearing a homemade plate armour, and in general just had been twice as big as Cen. Twice as big in this case meant twice as heavy, and sad to say, much of that heavy came from muscles.
The young man sighed, moving the shoulder a bit. This 'WoM' had become tiresome really fast, and Strop's hyper active behavior actually made it worse. Not because of how he acted, but how he acted around the contestants. Many seemed to be newbies trying out to get a good position in the city, and most of these were not familiar with the ninja horse and his habits of sneaking in on people and violently attacking them with those blasted balls. This unfamiliarity had lead to incidents and destruction, and Strop seemed to enjoy it more and more. Not the destruction, of course (At least Cen hoped it wasn't the destruction), but the chaos and the screams and the fleeing.
Cen wondered for a second if he could find a way out of being Strop's ... slave, but then again, a promise is a promise, and a promise is to be kept... No matter how much trouble it was.
What he really needed now was a good shower and something to eat, before he began his highly neglected homework. The young man turned his gaze to the showerhead on the wall, and he was quite sure that it laughed evilish at him. Besides it always being either too warm or too cold, it usually had a habit of having too much pressure, which made the water hit like hail during a storm: Hard and just about everywhere...
It didn't seem like the best of ideas to use it with a back full of bruises. There must be another way...

"It's open!" Zophia yelled at the door, while making her way out of bed. It was too warm to be outside, even for a half reptile, so she had made a nest in her bed, complete with juice and peaches and of course a drawing pad. She mumbled a bit over the disturbance until she saw exactly who had knocked on the door. "Cen? What are you doing here?" She tilter her head questioningly, actually finding it strange to see him at her door, instead of the other way around.
"Sorry if I am to any trouble, I.." He trailed off, frowning.
"Oh, you're not!" She smiled widely, almost pulling him inside. "I wasn't doing anything important anyway, so it is just fine with some company."
"Well, technically just here to ask if I could borrow your bathroom for a while? My own is - acting up." As usual.
Zophia looked at him for a while, seemingly trying to read his mind (or just looking like it), before nodding. "Sure. I have some towels somewhere, if you.."
"I have brought my own along, it is okay..." Cenere mumbled. This was.. embarrassing, to say the least. But still better than knocking on Thoad's door to ask for the same. The endless jokes would be, well, endless. "Uhm, thanks..." He made his way into the bathroom before Zophia could reply, and closed the door.
It was actually quite a nice room, a bit bigger than his own (which wouldn't be hard to achieve), and not as warm as everything else. This might even prove to be a good idea.

"That doesn't look good..."
Cenere looked up at the dryohr as he exited the bathroom, now nice and clean and with fresh, albeit quite short sleeved and -legged, clothes on. "Uhm, sorry, what?" He paused for a moment to look questioningly at her over the glasses.
"Your.. legs, arms... I bet what I can't see is even worse..." She rose from the couch, while he (panicking) zipped his backpack, and moved towards the door.
"I.. dun kno what'ya talking about..."
She grabbed his hand even before he made a move to open the door. "This. Looks like someone has beaten you up or something."
"It's nothing, really... Zophia, I have other..."
"Have you even cleaned them?"
"I just took a shower..."
"Not what I meant. Come here." She pulled him towards the couch and made him sit. "Stay."
He glared blankly at her, having given up the fight even before it began. Well, it was not really possible to neglect the homework more than he already did.
Zophia's puppy trotted up to him, wacking its tail sleepishly, before jumping up beside him and going to sleep again, resting its head on his thigh as if to tell him, he should start patting it. When he didn't, it simply looked up at him with sad puppy eyes, and drooled a bit on his shorts.
"... 'nd I can't believe you don't stand up to him or anything, when he is treating you like... Cen?"
The young man gazed up at the dryohr, not quite sure if she had been talking to him, or - talking at all. "Mm..? Sorry, I am a bit..."
"Sleepy? Tired? Exhausted? Beaten up?" She moved har tail a bit, frowning with concern.
"Mm.."
She sighed, then got the dog to move a bit, making enough space in the couch to be able to sit beside him and be able to have the first aid kit in reach. "Let me see..."

Zophia smiled to herself, patting the puppy. Cen had been... quite easy, just a bit of head scritching and he had fallen asleep. He probably hadn't slept properly for days, but it was still quite a satisfactory achievements to her. Besides, it had given her the opportunity to actually bandage him up, instead of simply going along with his "It is all fine, it does not even hurt...". At least she did not have to look at them any more. Just too sad she hadn't got the chance to bandage more than his arms a legs. But then again, it hopefully was worst there.
She patted the puppy again, but a leash on it and went for a walk.

"Darn it all... Bloody... Ind i... Hvorfor...." He mumbled to himself, fighting his way up they stairs. It had been an unusual long way home because the fact that he had slept or relaxed, even, had made most of his muscles stiff and given the bruises the time for them to become bigger. He was still dress in bandages, mainly because he had not cared to fight the band aid and duct tape Zophia had used (he wondered why she had used duct tape, but then again, it was Zophia). At least he could cover it up by wearing the jacket and pants of the suit. It was still filled with dust and probably needed to get cleaned, but it was better than having people to stare even more because he was looking like a butt...
He opened the door and threw his bag on the kitchen floor. All too long day, and his homework...
"Hi Cenny Cen Cen!"
He swung around to look at the ninja pony that sat on his bed. "Wha...."
"You weren't home, so I took a nap." Strop smiled widely (or it seemed to be widely) at him, before picking up a piece of paper. "Who is she?"

*fears the worst*

Is everyone posting their entries or just people who have been told too.

Goumas was in the help center. He was reading calmly simultaneously two books, Vladimir Smirnov's Course in Higher Mathematics and Tony DiCicco's Goalkeeper Soccer Training Manual, both books were very interesting. He was reading about the goalkeeping sessions when a ball hitted him right in the face. This made him very angry, though it wasn't the first time he got hitted by a ball and this particular one wasn't heavy, but it's always very annoying when you have to stop reading captivating books.
Goumas looked up and saw a black zebra. No, it wasn't a zebra he thought, zebras are black and white, not only black. It was Strop the ninja-horse concluded.
While he was wondering why did the horse hit him Strop fired an other shot aiming again his face. This time the alchemist was more prepared so he managed to use the Course in Higher Mathematics as a shield. It's a fact that heavy science books are very effective as shields, so this one was too.
This situation reminded Goumas one of his best coach sessions. He had a goalkeeper who wasn't good at all, the only way to make him improve was very intense training. He bought a cannon and after making some changes to it he started firing football balls at his goalkeeper. The keeper did not play again badly never again, though the truth is that he did not ever played again a football match. But that's irrelevant.
Back on topic, somebody gave to Strop a new colorful ball Goumas this time was ready to use all his goalkeeping knowledge and the math-shield book to avoid getting hit. Strop as a good ninja noticed the movements of his opponent and this time he aimed a bulletin board, the ball ricocheted and hitted Goumas's back and went right in the help canter. A football commentator would have said: "the ninja scored a very lucky goal , the goalkeeper was beaten because of the crossbar, you never know where the ball will go after hitting the goalpost."

Strop left he did not have anything else to do here he had just won the match 2-1.

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The guy who gave to Strop the ball was still there, so Goumas approached and asked him:
-hello sir, do you have a mobile phone with you, cause I have to phone a friends of mine.
The guy answered:
-Sorry no.
-OK, thank you mister, said Goumas, though he really did not wanted to say it.
So Goumas did not manage to phone to his friend, who was a well-known football scouter and that horse with the awesome strong long-rage shot did not become a professional footballer. The sport lost a huge talent.

Yes.

Just that one thing... *sighs, shakes head*

The sun was beating down on yet another hot day in the world of Armor Games. Even the lake to Pixels left seemed hazy with the evaporation of its water. #"This is a Bittersweet Symphony this life; try'in to make ends meet your a slave to money then you die#... murmered Pixel, despite this area of the Amusement Park being all but deserted he still kept his voice down. The hard, knarly bark of the oak tree he had perched on was almost perfectly complimentary too his arching spine. He had been laying there for hours whiling away the day sifting through songs and pondering the world. In the distance the hubbub of Armor City could jsut about be heard like a moth flitting through the air.

"Yeaucchh... it is getting very hot now" moaned Pixel. It was almost noon now and the hot sun beated down everywhere. Even the shadows in the branches of the tree were getting hot. Pixel heved up his small frame, supporting himself on the above branches and fluttering his wings gently. After a morning of sitting in the same position his whole body resisted the movement which felt like a comparitive marathon to the sedate few hours it had now been accustomed too. He jumped out of the tree floating the 20 or so metres to the ground. In a storm many years ago the tree had caught alight. Though the fire washed out relatively quickly it left a large hollow in the old tree (though enough wood survived for it too live on and thrive). Within was a dark shade and the cool are was refreshing on Pixels cheeks. He took a drink from a bottle he'd been sipping since he left the castle; though warm the sweet taste still helped. Just as Pixel nestled down in the coolest corner a shadow flashed past the entrance.

"Hellooo..." said Pixie trailing off to a yelp as a small ball twatted him on his arm. "Hey, what?... Who?... Wait; Cenere?!?!?"
"No, do you really think I would do this kinda thing?" Cenere nodded his head to the left. Pixel shifted his gaze to see the crouching figure of Strop. Pixels mind flashed back to the stories he had heard about other members being "attacked" by these two and rememberd laughing at the rumours. "Toss me another ball" ordered Strop and Cenere obediantly reached itoo a bulging sack and tossed one to Strop. With barely any pullback to give Pixel a chance to dodge Strop launched the ball at lightning speed. It slapped Pixel on the calf knocking his leg back but before he could recover he heard the shout of Strop "Quickly Cen, quickly pass me another...".
"Hey look a new guy is drowning in the lake!!!" shouted Pixel. In the split second the conscientious duo wurled round Pixel ran for the opening to the hollow. He had seen Strops escapades on the roofs of Armor City and decided it would be best not too make a run across open ground; instead he decided to hover up into the trees branches. Almost gaining a strangle hold on Pixels ankles Stop leaped from the hollow after realising there was no emergency from the lake. "You can run but you can'... oh wait you can fly" said Strop. As Pixie swished in and out of the branches of the tree Strop started jumping up the limbs with an an odd elegance. Cenere meraly say himself on the bottom most branch ready to throw up some more balls if Strop threw all the ones he had grabbed from cener on the way out of the hollow.

With the branches thinning Pixel knew he just had to reach the sky and he would be safe (for now at least) in the thin wisps of cloud now encircling the atmosphere. Strop and Pixel made their respective last gasp lunges simultaneously. Pixel got away with, just, and was able to turn and watch Strop clinging on to a thin branch with an old trainer clinched in his left hand. Pixel looked down to see his de-shoed foot wriggling its toes back at him and shot high up into the sky. Cenere was now stood on the ground beside the great tree shaking his head in his hands at the site of Strop dangling by a mere grasp of a twig.

After 30 minutes of relaxing on a cloud he looked down at the ground to see if the coast was clear and slowly drifted back to his home bruised but hopeful this was the start of the Way of Moderation.
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This is my "more than decent" entry (I hope). I (for once) enjoyed writing this so I hope you like it and give feedback etc.

Cenere / Strop / Klaus.

Stop

At least you got to kick frank out of a tree and chuckle uncharacteristically.

Wait was there a strop/klaus yaoi fantasy posted somewhere that I didn't read? WTF?

Well, seemingly Soulhack is writing a threesome yaoi story, so... At some point there will be Klaus/Strop.

Thinking about Klaus and Strop like that is disturbing.