King vs. Bardock
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King vs. Bardock
by King 6/4/2012, 2:39 pm
The door slammed shut, loudly...
Cody jumped at the noise that crashed from the how it had closed so harshly. His eyes glanced off to the corner of his sockets in some attempt as if trying to veiw it. His head shook in discern at that moment while he collected up a mental note within himself to be stored as a reminder that he would need to be repairing that when he ever was presented the chance. There was much more to be done, however, from what he looked out upon when his eyes made their way back into the center of the building.
The building was large, but mainly only because there were no rooms within it. The structure that Cody found himself was once a large garage for vehicle repairs and other mechanical needs ranging from small engines to large trucks. He could remember seeing the place when it was full of tools, parts, and projects. Weathered stains of oil still marked the cold, smooth concrete pavement that made up the floor in spots that vehicles were parked while they were being fixed. That was years ago, however, when Cody was just a child and watching his uncle work on one peice or another. The old shop hadn't seen anything like that for years upon that.
Eventhough it was covered in dust and dirt, the items that had all been left behind were still there. Not all of them were still in the same spot, due to burgalry. Sagging bags of sand used for makeshift training for various strikes were still hanging off to the side from the large iron beams that supported the ceiling. His fingers touched the leather softly of one of the bags for a brief second, thinking back to the hours that he had placed into the hundreds and hundreds of jabs that the fabric suffered by his own knuckles.
That was when his attention turned from it toward the center of the room, where an old square boxing arena stood. His boots tracked his own footprints across the dust caked floor as he made his way to the ropes surrounding the waist high mat. His elbows were slung up to rest on the bottom of the three ropes and he just stared to the center of the arena. The want and need of desiring the time to absolutely submerse himself in all of the memories that were beginning to flood in on him was almost irresistable, but he knew that it wasn't possible at that place in time.
It was no secret that King was back and his hiatus was done. It was time to train...
-
Action 1: None
Action 2: None
Action 3: None
Cody jumped at the noise that crashed from the how it had closed so harshly. His eyes glanced off to the corner of his sockets in some attempt as if trying to veiw it. His head shook in discern at that moment while he collected up a mental note within himself to be stored as a reminder that he would need to be repairing that when he ever was presented the chance. There was much more to be done, however, from what he looked out upon when his eyes made their way back into the center of the building.
The building was large, but mainly only because there were no rooms within it. The structure that Cody found himself was once a large garage for vehicle repairs and other mechanical needs ranging from small engines to large trucks. He could remember seeing the place when it was full of tools, parts, and projects. Weathered stains of oil still marked the cold, smooth concrete pavement that made up the floor in spots that vehicles were parked while they were being fixed. That was years ago, however, when Cody was just a child and watching his uncle work on one peice or another. The old shop hadn't seen anything like that for years upon that.
Eventhough it was covered in dust and dirt, the items that had all been left behind were still there. Not all of them were still in the same spot, due to burgalry. Sagging bags of sand used for makeshift training for various strikes were still hanging off to the side from the large iron beams that supported the ceiling. His fingers touched the leather softly of one of the bags for a brief second, thinking back to the hours that he had placed into the hundreds and hundreds of jabs that the fabric suffered by his own knuckles.
That was when his attention turned from it toward the center of the room, where an old square boxing arena stood. His boots tracked his own footprints across the dust caked floor as he made his way to the ropes surrounding the waist high mat. His elbows were slung up to rest on the bottom of the three ropes and he just stared to the center of the arena. The want and need of desiring the time to absolutely submerse himself in all of the memories that were beginning to flood in on him was almost irresistable, but he knew that it wasn't possible at that place in time.
It was no secret that King was back and his hiatus was done. It was time to train...
-
Action 1: None
Action 2: None
Action 3: None
King- Apprentice
- Posts : 31
Join date : 2012-01-12
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