Seems like I can't do anything right any more. No matter what I do, something goes wrong. I plan for something, and in turn, it pisses someone else off. I can't seem to win any more. And the worst part is, things haven't even put into motion yet and I've pissed someone off because I told them about it.
Reality really shouldn't play these hands against me. Having to chose between my friends and my girlfriend really sucks. Usually, both is an option, but sometimes it's not. And of course I promised to do hang out with one when the other wants to hang out and then gets pissed when I say I had made plans already.
Am I not allowed to hang out with one without the other every so often?
This sucks.
-Locke
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
A Champion Returns...
[this is the result of too much Champions Online...]
Sorata took a deep breath. He knew this wasn't going to be easy. He had been out of the hero business for a year or so. Not since the accident at the Shadow Shard that sent the scrapper to Millennium City. He silently cursed the Council, those damned Neo-Nazi-turned-alien-ruled-bastards.
He could remember waking up at a hospital here in the rebuilt Detroit. Most of Sorata's powers had been lost in the accident. No more channeling negative energy. No more regeneration. He was no longer super powered. No longer a scrapper, even.
He decided it was best to retire from the super hero shinagins for good. Without super powers, what was the point? He'd just get killed in action instead. Sure, there were heroes who managed without powers, but they had special equipment and training. Sorata was not one of those heroes.
But months later, it had seemed that some of his power had returned. While he wasn't channeling negative energy, he had gained super strength. Instead of regeration, his toughness increased. Sorata could return to the world of super heroes if he wished. But he was conflicted. He wanted to get out of it and have a normal life again. Yet a part of his enjoyed the life of a hero - the thrill of jumping into a group of thugs and beating them all down. The adrenaline rush from fighting was a driving power for the former scrapper.
When aliens had attacked Millennium City, he had to make a choice. To become Sorata once more, to fight for good and for his own selfish sense of entertainment. Or to stay a normal person, to never fight again and stay safe.
Sorata took a deep breath. He looked down upon the city from the window of his apartment, watching the alien invasion. He though for only a minute. He shrugged. "Ah fuck it!" And then, Sorata leaped.
The scrapper's fists came crashing down upon the head of one of the alien drones. It dropped from that hit alone. Sorata spun around on the ball of his foot, swinging his backhand around into the face of another alien. It went flying into a wall. A third charged in, swiping claws at the scrapper. But those were just scratches to Sorata. He grabbed it by the shoulders (or what would be considered shoulders) and slammed his head into its head. The crunching feel of its skull giving way to his own headbutt gave Sorata shivers.
The alien group laid defeated on the ground. The scrapper could only grin like an idiot. "It's good to be back."
Sorata took a deep breath. He knew this wasn't going to be easy. He had been out of the hero business for a year or so. Not since the accident at the Shadow Shard that sent the scrapper to Millennium City. He silently cursed the Council, those damned Neo-Nazi-turned-alien-ruled-bastards.
He could remember waking up at a hospital here in the rebuilt Detroit. Most of Sorata's powers had been lost in the accident. No more channeling negative energy. No more regeneration. He was no longer super powered. No longer a scrapper, even.
He decided it was best to retire from the super hero shinagins for good. Without super powers, what was the point? He'd just get killed in action instead. Sure, there were heroes who managed without powers, but they had special equipment and training. Sorata was not one of those heroes.
But months later, it had seemed that some of his power had returned. While he wasn't channeling negative energy, he had gained super strength. Instead of regeration, his toughness increased. Sorata could return to the world of super heroes if he wished. But he was conflicted. He wanted to get out of it and have a normal life again. Yet a part of his enjoyed the life of a hero - the thrill of jumping into a group of thugs and beating them all down. The adrenaline rush from fighting was a driving power for the former scrapper.
When aliens had attacked Millennium City, he had to make a choice. To become Sorata once more, to fight for good and for his own selfish sense of entertainment. Or to stay a normal person, to never fight again and stay safe.
Sorata took a deep breath. He looked down upon the city from the window of his apartment, watching the alien invasion. He though for only a minute. He shrugged. "Ah fuck it!" And then, Sorata leaped.
The scrapper's fists came crashing down upon the head of one of the alien drones. It dropped from that hit alone. Sorata spun around on the ball of his foot, swinging his backhand around into the face of another alien. It went flying into a wall. A third charged in, swiping claws at the scrapper. But those were just scratches to Sorata. He grabbed it by the shoulders (or what would be considered shoulders) and slammed his head into its head. The crunching feel of its skull giving way to his own headbutt gave Sorata shivers.
The alien group laid defeated on the ground. The scrapper could only grin like an idiot. "It's good to be back."
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