Post by Jax Punchlust on Jan 19, 2016 15:28:11 GMT
[PL, Light Weights Equipped]
Many things can happen in a few months time. Heroes can rise through the ranks with the use of training, becoming some of the strongest warriors in the universe, maybe even gaining a new form or two with some spiky hairdo. Villains can fall, with their entire empires collapsing after one command made in poor judgement, and the galaxy forever changed by their absence. Now, having three months passed since he started his training, it was only logical that Jax himself had reached new heights in his own power. Heck, by this time Jax had thought he would have gained a new base form for himself, with a cool new outfit and sparkles flying everywhere, and in this new form Jax would have a bunch of new catchphrases and funny one-liners to taunt his enemies with. But that’s not where he was after these last few months of training.
Instead, Jax was the same as he had been before, and had accomplished literally nothing for these past three months. Okay, that’s not entirely true, he had gotten some work done in his first month and a half of his training. He put a lot of effort in trying to find his “inner peace”, sitting in various locations around the forest, with his legs and arms crossed, as he hummed to himself in an out of tune tone. Once he finished his “meditative” training, Jax had figured it was time to test his new yet unwieldy abilities, and entered a preschool martial arts tournament, as it was the only tournament he could find in his price range at the time. After haggling the tournament organizers to let him in, after making the point he never finished preschool and thus was technically still eligible to enter, he faced the toughest challenge he had ever faced in his life. Fight after fight, moment after moment, Jax was on his toes. It was if he wasn’t fighting children, it was like he was fighting demons. They outclassed him in every way, even with his newfound “inner-peace” he couldn’t keep up. Once the tournament was finished, Jax was left a bloody pulp on the foam mat of the tournament, his fighting spirit now broken. To this day he had a scar on his back from one of the fights, and he still had nightmares about the four year old who had put him in a suplex hold and tickled him to near death.
With his confidence gone and his spirit broken, Jax returned to his cardboard home on the mountaintop and proceeded to cry. A lot. Pretty much the entire second month of his training consisted of Jax lying down in his cardboard box, and crying his eyes out, to the point where the cardboard became so moist that it fell apart and Jax was left without a home. The third month of his training, however, was a bit different. Instead of crying his eyes out, he just drank a lot. Not alcohol mind you, that stuff is pricey, instead he just drank from his supplies of sparkling of water that he had brought with him when he had first begun his training. Still, he had years of acting under his belt, and he was pretty good at acting drunk. It wasn’t long before he had fully convinced himself he was drunk, and he spent most of his days just lying on the floor, wearing his light weights for warmth. The thing was, Jax had gotten so into role that he started vomiting constantly, to the point where he covered almost his entire outfit in it. Luckily, it added extra layers and warmth to the outfit, so it wasn’t a total loss.
Along with the vomit covered training gear, Jax had sprouted a unkept beard. It too, was covered in vomit, and along with the unpleasant stench being in the way, it was just plain comfortable to have. Thanks to being in his “drunken phase”, Jax didn’t have the energy to change the clothes, and felt that there was no point in changing them anyways. He had become a loser ever since he quit his job at the studio. He was no longer a “Fighting Man”, he had become a “Dumb Lame Man, Failure Supreme”.
“If only father could see me now…” Jax stared at the blue sky, as he laid in the rocky path of the mountaintop after another night of no sleep. “What is the point of my life anyways...what is the point of life is I am not able to fight for justice…”
Standing up for the first time in the entire month, Jax made his way to the edge of the mountaintop, looking at the forest below. A feeling of immense displeasure overcame him, and for the first time it couldn’t be soothed by a bottle of sparkling water. He had failed at everything he wanted to be in life, and he was sure there was no way he was going to ever be able to achieve his goals. So why even try to? Why not just end it all, and stop trying?
“WAIT!” A voice called out from behind Jax, sounding so similar to his except in an annoyingly higher pitch. Turning to the source of the voice and away from the cliff, Jax saw the voice was coming from a small pink teddy bear that was lying on a heap that was made of the remains of Jax’s house along with some of his puke. The bear happened to be one that held a major importance to Jax. It was the same one his father gave him when he was a young lad starting his training. He had brought it with him for inspiration, but threw it in the pile of trash when he gave up on his fighting lifestyle.
“McStuffingtonz? What do you want?” Jax started to walk closer to the stuffed toy, doing so at a rather slow pace.
“I hate seeing you like this Jax. This isn’t what your father would want…” Jax cleared his throat, pounding on his chest a few times to try and help. Doing the voice for the bear had never been easy for him, not even as a kid, but he felt like it was an integral part of the bear’s character so he never attempted to change how he did it.
“McStuffingtonz, why are you suddenly giving me an impromptu life-changing mental breakdown? Can’t you see I’m trying to kill myself?” He looked over longingly at the cliff, before switching his attention back to the toy.
“That’s the problem isn’t it.” The bear couldn’t glare at him, so Jax just ran over to the bear and lowered his head down a bit, before walking back to where he was originally and continuing to do the bear’s voice. “I see that you have given up. Not just on your fighting life, but on everything. Your acting career, your training, your father, even yourself…what a failure you have become...”
“SHUT UP! YOU DON’T KNOW HOW HARD IT IS!” Jax had ran back over to the bear, and had grabbed it by it’s fluffy neck with both hands, as he began to pretend to choke it. “You always lectured me! Told me what’s right, what’s wrong! Whether I should steal that cookie or not , or if I’m watching too much TV! Well guess what, I don’t need that anymore. I don’t need YOU anymore! I’m a big boy now, and I don’t need you, or anyone else, telling me what to do! It’s my life to ruin if I want to!” Tears rolled down Jax’s eyes, as he tightened his grip. “So...leave me…ALONE!”
Using all his power, Jax ripped the head off of the stuffed animal from his body, as fluff flew in almost every direction and covered the mentally unstable actor. He stood still for a moment, as he let the tears roll down his face, as he looked at the remains of his lifelong friend.
“Oh my gosh. I-I killed McStuffingtonz. I can’t…” The retired fighter dropped to his knees, tears once again returning as if in waves, while Jax picked up the body of his pink and once fluff-filled buddy. “What have I become…”
Slumping over onto the dirt covered path beneath himself, Jax formed a small puddled out of his tears. He likely would've created a river, if not for at that moment from out of the remains of his teddy bear was a small piece of paper, which originally tucked away in it’s ribbon, and had made it’s way over to the top of Jax’s head thanks to the mountain's rather windy weather.
“Huh? Oh, what trouble has life forced onto me now?” Rolling over, Jax picked up the note, and began to examine it. “Wait a second...I remember this...but it can’t be…”
But it was. It was the very note that Jax’s own father, Maximus Punchlust the Second, had written in his own sloppy handwriting and given his son along with a stuffed bear. Jax himself had forgotten it even existed, after stuffing it in his bear’s ribbon as a young boy in case he ever needed it. Now sitting upright, and covered in an odd mixture of tears and dirt, he began to read the note.
“Dear son,” Jax paused for a second, the way even his father wrote an introduction was breathtaking in it’s simplicity and grandiose. Taking a breath and collecting himself, Jax continue reading. “I am giving this letter here to help inspire you through your training. I know that you think I’m going hard on you, but one day you’ll be able to appreciate the challenges I’m putting you through. You’re already becoming tougher, kawaiier and ‘punchlustyer’. You are a true testament to our family name. I am writing this because I want you to know this; I believe in you.”
“I can’t believe it…” Jax had jumped up and gotten completely on his feet, and started to walk around in circles as he read the note several times over. He had known It had been so long, and he had nearly forgotten the all contents of it. A wave of gratification overcame himself, as if the last few months of his life hadn't happened at all. But the part that really stuck out to him was Maximus's final words in the letter.
"Son, I know you aren't...'naturally talented' when it comes to this fighting stuff. It's hard for you I know. But don't give up. Giving up is when you truly become a dreaded 'Loser Man'." Jax was holding himself back again, another wave of tears was starting. He turned back to the paper, staying in place as he read his father's final sentence. "Remember son, you're a Punchlust, and you always will be one. It doesn't matter how strong you are or how skilled a fighter. When it comes down to it, you'll find a way to win. That's what us Punchlusts do. And you'll be able to do that, unless you decide to give up. So continue training son, and become the Punchiest of us Lusts!"
"OH NO, I'M DOING IT AGAIN. WHY AM I HAVING SUCH AN EMOTIONAL DAY?!!" Tears streamed forth from Jax's eyes once again, but this time it wasn't from utter fake drunken depression. No, it was from something he hadn't felt in a long time; joy. "I won't let you down, Papa! I will become the strongest! I will!"
He raised his fist into the air, as the sun gleamed down on him in his heroic stance, all while he wore his gear covered in regurgitated fluids and food. The posing couldn't last forever, and once broken from his trance he started to get a whiff of a rather repulsive stench. Much to his displeasure, he remembered his current state, and tried shaking as much of the clung-on junk as possible.
"How have I let myself become such a mess? And how have I wasted so much time?" Testing his now flabby body, he began to do a few punches in the air, trying to measure how fast he could get a few out. He did a few kicks as well, finishing off the exercise with a full flip backwards, in which he barely managed to land on his feet. "No, no. This won't do. This can't be what I've become..."
Glancing around at the nature-filled area around himself, he noticed a large and sturdy tree not too far away from himself. Looking back at his own weakened fists, an idea started to form in his mind.
"Hm...I wonder..." Jax stretched his neck out, as he jogged in place for a sort while. "I guess there is no harm in trying..."
At a breakneck speed, Jax sprung forth, lifting a large amount of the dust from the forest path behind himself. With a sharp "ZWANG", Jax's fist met the tree's trunk, the two seemingly battling in strength. The struggle only lasted for a few seconds however, and in only a matter of seconds the trunk snapped, the tree's top half flying far off into the daytime sky.
"ALRIGHT BABY! BOOMSHAKALAKA!" Jax lifted his two arms into the air, as he ran a few paces around what was left of the tree. "Yeah, you take that tree. You can't handle me, can you, weakling?"
It had finally happened. His "fighting spirit" had returned, and he was sure nothing in the wide galaxy would be able to start this newly reborn "fighting man". " He flexed for a few seconds, giving a single kiss to each of his rather skinny arms, before he went back to the cliff where only moments ago he was planning to kill himself and began to survey the planet that he sure to dominate with his newly funky fresh new "groove".
"Yeah, baby, the Jax is bax! And you better look out world...cause I'm coming for you."
Many things can happen in a few months time. Heroes can rise through the ranks with the use of training, becoming some of the strongest warriors in the universe, maybe even gaining a new form or two with some spiky hairdo. Villains can fall, with their entire empires collapsing after one command made in poor judgement, and the galaxy forever changed by their absence. Now, having three months passed since he started his training, it was only logical that Jax himself had reached new heights in his own power. Heck, by this time Jax had thought he would have gained a new base form for himself, with a cool new outfit and sparkles flying everywhere, and in this new form Jax would have a bunch of new catchphrases and funny one-liners to taunt his enemies with. But that’s not where he was after these last few months of training.
Instead, Jax was the same as he had been before, and had accomplished literally nothing for these past three months. Okay, that’s not entirely true, he had gotten some work done in his first month and a half of his training. He put a lot of effort in trying to find his “inner peace”, sitting in various locations around the forest, with his legs and arms crossed, as he hummed to himself in an out of tune tone. Once he finished his “meditative” training, Jax had figured it was time to test his new yet unwieldy abilities, and entered a preschool martial arts tournament, as it was the only tournament he could find in his price range at the time. After haggling the tournament organizers to let him in, after making the point he never finished preschool and thus was technically still eligible to enter, he faced the toughest challenge he had ever faced in his life. Fight after fight, moment after moment, Jax was on his toes. It was if he wasn’t fighting children, it was like he was fighting demons. They outclassed him in every way, even with his newfound “inner-peace” he couldn’t keep up. Once the tournament was finished, Jax was left a bloody pulp on the foam mat of the tournament, his fighting spirit now broken. To this day he had a scar on his back from one of the fights, and he still had nightmares about the four year old who had put him in a suplex hold and tickled him to near death.
With his confidence gone and his spirit broken, Jax returned to his cardboard home on the mountaintop and proceeded to cry. A lot. Pretty much the entire second month of his training consisted of Jax lying down in his cardboard box, and crying his eyes out, to the point where the cardboard became so moist that it fell apart and Jax was left without a home. The third month of his training, however, was a bit different. Instead of crying his eyes out, he just drank a lot. Not alcohol mind you, that stuff is pricey, instead he just drank from his supplies of sparkling of water that he had brought with him when he had first begun his training. Still, he had years of acting under his belt, and he was pretty good at acting drunk. It wasn’t long before he had fully convinced himself he was drunk, and he spent most of his days just lying on the floor, wearing his light weights for warmth. The thing was, Jax had gotten so into role that he started vomiting constantly, to the point where he covered almost his entire outfit in it. Luckily, it added extra layers and warmth to the outfit, so it wasn’t a total loss.
Along with the vomit covered training gear, Jax had sprouted a unkept beard. It too, was covered in vomit, and along with the unpleasant stench being in the way, it was just plain comfortable to have. Thanks to being in his “drunken phase”, Jax didn’t have the energy to change the clothes, and felt that there was no point in changing them anyways. He had become a loser ever since he quit his job at the studio. He was no longer a “Fighting Man”, he had become a “Dumb Lame Man, Failure Supreme”.
“If only father could see me now…” Jax stared at the blue sky, as he laid in the rocky path of the mountaintop after another night of no sleep. “What is the point of my life anyways...what is the point of life is I am not able to fight for justice…”
Standing up for the first time in the entire month, Jax made his way to the edge of the mountaintop, looking at the forest below. A feeling of immense displeasure overcame him, and for the first time it couldn’t be soothed by a bottle of sparkling water. He had failed at everything he wanted to be in life, and he was sure there was no way he was going to ever be able to achieve his goals. So why even try to? Why not just end it all, and stop trying?
“WAIT!” A voice called out from behind Jax, sounding so similar to his except in an annoyingly higher pitch. Turning to the source of the voice and away from the cliff, Jax saw the voice was coming from a small pink teddy bear that was lying on a heap that was made of the remains of Jax’s house along with some of his puke. The bear happened to be one that held a major importance to Jax. It was the same one his father gave him when he was a young lad starting his training. He had brought it with him for inspiration, but threw it in the pile of trash when he gave up on his fighting lifestyle.
“McStuffingtonz? What do you want?” Jax started to walk closer to the stuffed toy, doing so at a rather slow pace.
“I hate seeing you like this Jax. This isn’t what your father would want…” Jax cleared his throat, pounding on his chest a few times to try and help. Doing the voice for the bear had never been easy for him, not even as a kid, but he felt like it was an integral part of the bear’s character so he never attempted to change how he did it.
“McStuffingtonz, why are you suddenly giving me an impromptu life-changing mental breakdown? Can’t you see I’m trying to kill myself?” He looked over longingly at the cliff, before switching his attention back to the toy.
“That’s the problem isn’t it.” The bear couldn’t glare at him, so Jax just ran over to the bear and lowered his head down a bit, before walking back to where he was originally and continuing to do the bear’s voice. “I see that you have given up. Not just on your fighting life, but on everything. Your acting career, your training, your father, even yourself…what a failure you have become...”
“SHUT UP! YOU DON’T KNOW HOW HARD IT IS!” Jax had ran back over to the bear, and had grabbed it by it’s fluffy neck with both hands, as he began to pretend to choke it. “You always lectured me! Told me what’s right, what’s wrong! Whether I should steal that cookie or not , or if I’m watching too much TV! Well guess what, I don’t need that anymore. I don’t need YOU anymore! I’m a big boy now, and I don’t need you, or anyone else, telling me what to do! It’s my life to ruin if I want to!” Tears rolled down Jax’s eyes, as he tightened his grip. “So...leave me…ALONE!”
Using all his power, Jax ripped the head off of the stuffed animal from his body, as fluff flew in almost every direction and covered the mentally unstable actor. He stood still for a moment, as he let the tears roll down his face, as he looked at the remains of his lifelong friend.
“Oh my gosh. I-I killed McStuffingtonz. I can’t…” The retired fighter dropped to his knees, tears once again returning as if in waves, while Jax picked up the body of his pink and once fluff-filled buddy. “What have I become…”
Slumping over onto the dirt covered path beneath himself, Jax formed a small puddled out of his tears. He likely would've created a river, if not for at that moment from out of the remains of his teddy bear was a small piece of paper, which originally tucked away in it’s ribbon, and had made it’s way over to the top of Jax’s head thanks to the mountain's rather windy weather.
“Huh? Oh, what trouble has life forced onto me now?” Rolling over, Jax picked up the note, and began to examine it. “Wait a second...I remember this...but it can’t be…”
But it was. It was the very note that Jax’s own father, Maximus Punchlust the Second, had written in his own sloppy handwriting and given his son along with a stuffed bear. Jax himself had forgotten it even existed, after stuffing it in his bear’s ribbon as a young boy in case he ever needed it. Now sitting upright, and covered in an odd mixture of tears and dirt, he began to read the note.
“Dear son,” Jax paused for a second, the way even his father wrote an introduction was breathtaking in it’s simplicity and grandiose. Taking a breath and collecting himself, Jax continue reading. “I am giving this letter here to help inspire you through your training. I know that you think I’m going hard on you, but one day you’ll be able to appreciate the challenges I’m putting you through. You’re already becoming tougher, kawaiier and ‘punchlustyer’. You are a true testament to our family name. I am writing this because I want you to know this; I believe in you.”
“I can’t believe it…” Jax had jumped up and gotten completely on his feet, and started to walk around in circles as he read the note several times over. He had known It had been so long, and he had nearly forgotten the all contents of it. A wave of gratification overcame himself, as if the last few months of his life hadn't happened at all. But the part that really stuck out to him was Maximus's final words in the letter.
"Son, I know you aren't...'naturally talented' when it comes to this fighting stuff. It's hard for you I know. But don't give up. Giving up is when you truly become a dreaded 'Loser Man'." Jax was holding himself back again, another wave of tears was starting. He turned back to the paper, staying in place as he read his father's final sentence. "Remember son, you're a Punchlust, and you always will be one. It doesn't matter how strong you are or how skilled a fighter. When it comes down to it, you'll find a way to win. That's what us Punchlusts do. And you'll be able to do that, unless you decide to give up. So continue training son, and become the Punchiest of us Lusts!"
"OH NO, I'M DOING IT AGAIN. WHY AM I HAVING SUCH AN EMOTIONAL DAY?!!" Tears streamed forth from Jax's eyes once again, but this time it wasn't from utter fake drunken depression. No, it was from something he hadn't felt in a long time; joy. "I won't let you down, Papa! I will become the strongest! I will!"
He raised his fist into the air, as the sun gleamed down on him in his heroic stance, all while he wore his gear covered in regurgitated fluids and food. The posing couldn't last forever, and once broken from his trance he started to get a whiff of a rather repulsive stench. Much to his displeasure, he remembered his current state, and tried shaking as much of the clung-on junk as possible.
"How have I let myself become such a mess? And how have I wasted so much time?" Testing his now flabby body, he began to do a few punches in the air, trying to measure how fast he could get a few out. He did a few kicks as well, finishing off the exercise with a full flip backwards, in which he barely managed to land on his feet. "No, no. This won't do. This can't be what I've become..."
Glancing around at the nature-filled area around himself, he noticed a large and sturdy tree not too far away from himself. Looking back at his own weakened fists, an idea started to form in his mind.
"Hm...I wonder..." Jax stretched his neck out, as he jogged in place for a sort while. "I guess there is no harm in trying..."
At a breakneck speed, Jax sprung forth, lifting a large amount of the dust from the forest path behind himself. With a sharp "ZWANG", Jax's fist met the tree's trunk, the two seemingly battling in strength. The struggle only lasted for a few seconds however, and in only a matter of seconds the trunk snapped, the tree's top half flying far off into the daytime sky.
"ALRIGHT BABY! BOOMSHAKALAKA!" Jax lifted his two arms into the air, as he ran a few paces around what was left of the tree. "Yeah, you take that tree. You can't handle me, can you, weakling?"
It had finally happened. His "fighting spirit" had returned, and he was sure nothing in the wide galaxy would be able to start this newly reborn "fighting man". " He flexed for a few seconds, giving a single kiss to each of his rather skinny arms, before he went back to the cliff where only moments ago he was planning to kill himself and began to survey the planet that he sure to dominate with his newly funky fresh new "groove".
"Yeah, baby, the Jax is bax! And you better look out world...cause I'm coming for you."
