Post by Tim E. Vortex on May 26, 2011 20:28:41 GMT
After another victory in a match against Lloyd Matthews and Trent Page, whom has become somewhat of a rival, I sat resting in the multi-Warrior locker room of the Live-Wire arena, awaiting the inevitable arrival of my loyal companion, whom has now been completely updated on the events of last week’s journey. Using a silver towel, I wiped the sweat from my forehead as the door burst open.
“You made him tap out! Timmy, I’m impressed.”
Flowed the rich, Scottish accent of Michelle as she flung her arms around me. I took a sip of Evian from the water bottle that was firmly gripped in my right arm as she affectionately, and as a perceived connotation, inappropriately, took a seat on my lap as a child would with Santa.
“I’m still not satisfied.[/color]”
I informed her. She pulled away with her puppy sulk of confusion and looked at me in anticipation of me elaborating. I squeezed my sports bottle, allowing a playful puff of air to dart in her face, causing her to retreat into a standing formation.
“How come? Did you see his face?[/color]”
“Admittedly, I was overcome with entertainment, but we’re now equal in scores. I feel there’s only one solution.[/color]”
“Which is?[/color]”
“We must meet as singles, else he can place blame on our mutual opposition. [/color]”
I was feeling particularly pugnacious at this point, hungry for further competition. I dragged myself to my feet and hobbled over to the row of rusted lockers, opening mine to unveil nothing. Materialism is not something I have time for considering my existence, and so there was nothing in which I could fill the metallic cabinet with. I placed my towel inside and span around where I was greeted with a blinding flash. I abruptly smashed back into my locker as a reflect and frantically began batting the air.
“Relax. It’s just a camera.[/color]”
Michelle giggled. My sight was restored and she stood holding up her bright pink mobile phone, aiming it at me like a sniper.
“My dear, what on earth are you doing?[/color]”
“We go so many places. It’s nice to have some memories from it.[/color]”
“Surely memories need only be cognitive.[/color]”
“I’m sorry we’re all not as amazing as you are.”
“No need to apologise, my dear. It’s quite understandable.[/color]”
My watch does more than travel across the universe. It also acts as a psychic interpreter, in case you were wondering why everyone we’ve hitherto encountered is fluent in twenty first century English; it is able to translate almost any language throughout time and space. Unfortunately, Michelle’s sarcasm was not detectable.
“So... have you heard your match for next week?[/color]”
“Enlighten me.[/color]”
“You’re facing James Stall in a Lost Heroes league match.[/color]”
“Marvellous.[/color]”
I proclaimed as my eyes lit up, eagerly awaiting my future competition. I straightened out my collar and retook my seat. Granted, I was at great risk of numerous splinters, but after a hard fought match, I opted for the lesser of two evils. Michelle sat down beside me.
“I’ve beaten him once I can do it again.[/color]”
I proudly declared, only to be put down my Michelle’s unconvinced glare. She raised her strawberry blonde eyebrow at me.
“No you haven’t.[/color]”
“Right, right, right, it hasn’t happened yet.[/color]”
“This is your chance, Timmy. You can be the Lost Hero.[/color]”
“Oh, my dear. I am a lost hero. I don’t need a trophy to prove that.[/color]”
I’d had enough of the wood, and so I shot up off of the bench. Michelle crossed her legs and rested her chin in her right hand as if in deep contemplation.
“How so?[/color]”
“I’m Timothy Edward Vortex.[/color]”
I announced. I could tell she was anything but impressed by the way she stared blankly at me.
“Defender of the universe? Out of my era? Come on... I epitomise the whole attitude of the Lost Hero.[/color]”
“Och, aye... and what’ve you got to show for it? ‘Cept a couple of bruises and an overwhelming ego...[/color]”
She mocked. The fuse in me had blown, and once again I was forced to accept one of Michelle’s subtle challenges. One day I’ll learn to let it slide, otherwise she may very well end up being turned to stone. At least she’d be quiet for once.
“I am a lost hero. And I can prove it.[/color]”
I told her. Michelle stood and placed her hands imperatively on her hips as she advanced towards me, looking directly into my eyes.
“I’ll save the universe again. I’ll close the rift in time and space for good and I’ll sort out this enigma. But first, I’m going to beat James Stall.[/color]”
I’d become cocky. I reached into my pocket to retrieve my watch, but to no avail. The watch wasn’t there.
“Oh dear.[/color]”
“What is it?[/color]”
“My watch. I can’t find it.[/color]”
I researched my jacket before moving onto my dusty blue pants, but alas, the watch was nowhere to be seen. I grimaced and clenched my fist as I considered a possible explanation for its whereabouts.
“Page![/color]”
I muttered in severe anger.
“I’m stuck here. Everything passing in the right order... where’s the point in that? What am I going to do now?[/color]”
I panicked. Michelle was irritatingly calm.
“Pub?[/color]”[/color]
“You made him tap out! Timmy, I’m impressed.”
Flowed the rich, Scottish accent of Michelle as she flung her arms around me. I took a sip of Evian from the water bottle that was firmly gripped in my right arm as she affectionately, and as a perceived connotation, inappropriately, took a seat on my lap as a child would with Santa.
“I’m still not satisfied.[/color]”
I informed her. She pulled away with her puppy sulk of confusion and looked at me in anticipation of me elaborating. I squeezed my sports bottle, allowing a playful puff of air to dart in her face, causing her to retreat into a standing formation.
“How come? Did you see his face?[/color]”
“Admittedly, I was overcome with entertainment, but we’re now equal in scores. I feel there’s only one solution.[/color]”
“Which is?[/color]”
“We must meet as singles, else he can place blame on our mutual opposition. [/color]”
I was feeling particularly pugnacious at this point, hungry for further competition. I dragged myself to my feet and hobbled over to the row of rusted lockers, opening mine to unveil nothing. Materialism is not something I have time for considering my existence, and so there was nothing in which I could fill the metallic cabinet with. I placed my towel inside and span around where I was greeted with a blinding flash. I abruptly smashed back into my locker as a reflect and frantically began batting the air.
“Relax. It’s just a camera.[/color]”
Michelle giggled. My sight was restored and she stood holding up her bright pink mobile phone, aiming it at me like a sniper.
“My dear, what on earth are you doing?[/color]”
“We go so many places. It’s nice to have some memories from it.[/color]”
“Surely memories need only be cognitive.[/color]”
“I’m sorry we’re all not as amazing as you are.”
“No need to apologise, my dear. It’s quite understandable.[/color]”
My watch does more than travel across the universe. It also acts as a psychic interpreter, in case you were wondering why everyone we’ve hitherto encountered is fluent in twenty first century English; it is able to translate almost any language throughout time and space. Unfortunately, Michelle’s sarcasm was not detectable.
“So... have you heard your match for next week?[/color]”
“Enlighten me.[/color]”
“You’re facing James Stall in a Lost Heroes league match.[/color]”
“Marvellous.[/color]”
I proclaimed as my eyes lit up, eagerly awaiting my future competition. I straightened out my collar and retook my seat. Granted, I was at great risk of numerous splinters, but after a hard fought match, I opted for the lesser of two evils. Michelle sat down beside me.
“I’ve beaten him once I can do it again.[/color]”
I proudly declared, only to be put down my Michelle’s unconvinced glare. She raised her strawberry blonde eyebrow at me.
“No you haven’t.[/color]”
“Right, right, right, it hasn’t happened yet.[/color]”
“This is your chance, Timmy. You can be the Lost Hero.[/color]”
“Oh, my dear. I am a lost hero. I don’t need a trophy to prove that.[/color]”
I’d had enough of the wood, and so I shot up off of the bench. Michelle crossed her legs and rested her chin in her right hand as if in deep contemplation.
“How so?[/color]”
“I’m Timothy Edward Vortex.[/color]”
I announced. I could tell she was anything but impressed by the way she stared blankly at me.
“Defender of the universe? Out of my era? Come on... I epitomise the whole attitude of the Lost Hero.[/color]”
“Och, aye... and what’ve you got to show for it? ‘Cept a couple of bruises and an overwhelming ego...[/color]”
She mocked. The fuse in me had blown, and once again I was forced to accept one of Michelle’s subtle challenges. One day I’ll learn to let it slide, otherwise she may very well end up being turned to stone. At least she’d be quiet for once.
“I am a lost hero. And I can prove it.[/color]”
I told her. Michelle stood and placed her hands imperatively on her hips as she advanced towards me, looking directly into my eyes.
“I’ll save the universe again. I’ll close the rift in time and space for good and I’ll sort out this enigma. But first, I’m going to beat James Stall.[/color]”
I’d become cocky. I reached into my pocket to retrieve my watch, but to no avail. The watch wasn’t there.
“Oh dear.[/color]”
“What is it?[/color]”
“My watch. I can’t find it.[/color]”
I researched my jacket before moving onto my dusty blue pants, but alas, the watch was nowhere to be seen. I grimaced and clenched my fist as I considered a possible explanation for its whereabouts.
“Page![/color]”
I muttered in severe anger.
“I’m stuck here. Everything passing in the right order... where’s the point in that? What am I going to do now?[/color]”
I panicked. Michelle was irritatingly calm.
“Pub?[/color]”[/color]
