Post by src on Nov 5, 2008 0:15:51 GMT -8
Basic Information[/u]
Name:Ash Noland
Age:15
Height:5'20 in.
Weight:128 lbs.
Blood Type:O
Gender:Male
Sexuality:Straight
Eye Color:Blue
Hair:Straight, long brown
School: (PHS 259 or PHS 260)
Pass Time Information
Hobbies:Listening to music, studying, wandering around at night
Talents:An academically-minded person who devotes a lot of time to studying. He does well in school; learning and memorizing things takes his mind off of more stressful issues and is an easy way for him to vent. He can handle himself in a fight.
Favorite things:Music in general; food in general; observing and being amongst the night life; enjoying life overall.
Mental Information
Personality: He's outwardly an ordinary, casual, laid-back kind of guy who's easy to talk to and friendly; not something you see a whole lot of at this kind of school. He's intelligent, but humble and tries to stay out of the spotlight.
On the inside though, he's a very deep-thinking, serious person with strong convictions based on things that have happened to him in the past, and things he's done that he's never been proud of and has been ashamed for. He tries hard to atone and be a good person, but sometimes, that old, darker part of him gets dragged out in the worst of situations.
Mentality:Although in the past he's been confrontative and combative towards others, he now tries hard to avoid fighting when possible. He can shrug off insults more easily now and is a keenly patient, strong-willed person who's hard to provoke. But when he's pushed past his breaking point, and you manage to hurt him in some way, he can be a ruthless, violent person you don't want coming at you.
Ideal:None in particular
Belief:Likely an agnostic
Physical Information
Build:A gangly, rather lean person of no particularly athletic build. He's long-limbed and has good reach.
Head:Has a modestly handsome face and long brown hair. His vivid blue eyes are his most distinguished feature.
Torso:Average build. He used to work out more often and be much more muscular, and he has some muscle in his chest, but not a whole lot. He has a scar in the shape of a rather large slash mark on his chest from a fight at a previous school.
Arms:Long arms that are much stronger and more powerful than they look.
Legs:He doesn't like to drive, so he just walks and occasionally jogs everywhere. His legs are more in shape and stronger than the rest of his body, and he can hit some decently powerful kicks.
Feet:Um.. they're feet. What's there to say really?
Apparel Information
Head Gear:Mainly wears headphones around his neck with some music playing while walking around
Shirts:Maroon t-shirt; black button shirt with black stripes
Pants:Dark dress pants
Shoes:Casual black shoes
Misc:*May update later when I get more items*
Fighting Information
Fighting Style:Krav Maga
Years Practiced:11 years
Description of style:Devised by Israeli military special forces in the Middle East for urban hand-to-hand warfare in situations where conventional weaponry is rendered ineffective. Has since been used by various law enforcement and government agencies as a means of powerful self-defense. Mixes elements of kick-boxing and karate with Jiujitsu. Emphasizes ending fights as quickly and desicisevely as possible by inflicting maximum damage on the enemy in a swift manner. Involves mainly combining combinations of punches and kicks linking with counters, throws, holds, counter-holds and disabling maneuvers. Having studied the human anatomy, Ash is well acquainted with most of the nerve areas of the body where one hit can put down an opponent. Once engaged in a fight he can't get out of, he doesn't hold back and won't hesitate to fight dirty as well seriously maim (or even use lethal attacks) on his opponent(s).
History Information
History: Only son of James Alan Noland, a narcotics-division police officer who worked in a rough neighborhood monitoring certain dangerous drug cartels. Ever since his mother died in a shooting during the robbery of a 7-11, Ash's father has personally trained him in fighting and how to survive. Because of the danger present in his living environment, Ash is no stranger to being shot at, or others making attempts on his life. After a while, he was even forced to use his fighting ability to fend off the occasional mugger and house invader when his father wasn't around. Life was rough, since he also lost a lot of good friends throughout his childhood to the violence in the inner city.
At his last school, Ash and another friend Alex were persecuted by a group of kids whose relatives had been put in prison by his dad. Usually, Ash and Alex were able to avoid them since he knew the layout of the city pretty well, but one day the punks caught up to them. Unable to avoid a fight, Ash put up a good struggle, injuring and bloodying most of his assailants, but he couldn't last against 14 other kids. When he saw his friend Alex hit behind the head with a crowbar, he was temporarily distracted; one of them pulled out a knife and slashed Ash across the chest, giving him a permanent scar and causing him to stumble to the ground.
While the attackers held him down, Ash looked over and saw Alex slowly bleeding out the back of his head where he'd been hit. As the guy with the knife prepared to stab him, Ash suddenly expirienced a surge of violent energy within him and blacked out. When he came to, he found himself wailing on the knife-kid, whose face had been mutilated by a number of punches and was already beaten to death. Ash immediately stopped and looked around him. All the other thugs were lying around, bones snapped, ribs crushed, limbs broken and faces punched and kicked in. Of all the other dangerous situations Ash had been, he'd never had something like this happen. He was usually able to get the other person to back off after a sound beating or subdue them in some other way. He'd never had something like this happen before, where he'd just lost control and started instinctively attacking.
"Holy shit", he whispered, starting to freak out. "What the hell did I do?"
He ran over to his friend Alex and and tried to help him, but he was too late. The damage had been done. Alex's skull had fractured from the fatal blow. He'd been dead for the twenty minutes Ash had gone on a rampage against the other thugs.
Ash was never the same. He'd lost a friend who'd been with him for most of his childhood, and who had stood by him so many times. He never even told his dad about it, just told him he'd gotten into a fight with some other idiot. Of course he couldn't; his dad had always taught to never use force in excess, otherwise you were exploiting your power only to hurt others. For days he he couldn't sleep after having killed six people (even if they'd been gang-bangers) and horribly maimed the other eight. He had trouble eating and even threw up some days.
However, just when he seemed to be moving past it was when things got their worst. The judicial system in the city was corrupt and bought out by the same cartels his dad James was working against, and a month after the incident, many of the dealers were acquitted based on false defense conjecture. When they learned about what happened to their sons and cousins, all roughed up by some cop's son, they moved to take revenge. Using their contacts within the police, they learned who it was they were after.
One weekend, he was sitting at home working on schoolwork when his dad suddenly bursted in.
"Dad?"
"Ash!" James yelled. "Get in your room and lock it, now! Some dealers are coming to trash the house!"
Ash froze. "What?"
His dad grabbed him and got in his face, forcing eye contact. "Goddammit, don't question me, just do it!"
Nothing more needed to be said. Ash went upstairs and closed his door just in time. He heard the front door suddenly be kicked down as he closed the door.
From the sounds raging throughout the house, Ash could hear everything: the dealers all shouting, furniture and objects flying and smashing everywhere. He knew his Dad had practiced martial arts all his life, but he could hear him slowly being beaten down by his attackers.
"Oh god. What do I do?"
When Ash couldn't take it anymore, he slowly opened part of his door. Some thug was standing just in front of him, watching everything happening downstairs. Ash moved behind him, then sprang up and pulled back the guy's head by his hair as he'd learned from his father. Before he could make a sound, Ash knocked him out with a jab to the throat. He crept up behind the stairs and saw what happened.
The entire living room was trashed. Crap was strewn everywhere: the door was kicked down, windows were shattered, everything in the room was on the floor and in pieces. There were gangsters lying around all over the place, dead or knocked out by James. But five of them finally had knocked him onto the ground, kicking, stomping, punching and hitting him with tire irons. One of them started to pull a gun.
"NO!" Screamed Ash, vaulting down the stairs, right before he heard the gunshot. Suddenly, his senses were blocked out by his heartbeat and his vision blurred. He could only dimly sense raining down blow after blow on the dealers, feeling their blood in his fists, his body moving automatically going through them like a knife through hot butter.
He blinked.
Ash looked down. The thug who'd shot his dad lay dead on the ground, his neck and arm broken. The other four were gone as well.
Ash kneeled next to his father. He didn't leave him, didn't cry, didn't scream, just sat in devastation for a half hour until the paramedics came.
12 weeks later...
Ash lived in a "temporary settlement" with some other youths who didn't have anywhere else to go. He'd been transferred to another state so he'd be protected from further violent harrassment from cartels.
Ash attended a school called Remington High. Another backwards dump with domestic violence. There didn't seem to be any escape from it all. Ash learned soon that at this school, things were run by those who were strong; everyone else got beaten up and robbed on campus every day of the week.
It wasn't long before someone came up to Ash in the cafeteria and demanded his wallet. At first, Ash ignored him. He didn't want it to happen again. He still did nothing when the other kid grabbed him by the back of his shirt and hauled him out of his seat. He did nothing when they threw him up against a locker. But it only took one punch to the face to wake him up.
Suddenly, a surge of flashbacks went through his mind: Alex dead, his father dead, all the people who'd wronged him in the past.
He instinctively rebelled.
The bully threw his next punch, but Ash grabbed it and yanked his wrist, breaking it with one pull. Shrieking, the bully stumbled back, holding his hand. Ash grabbed his outstretched arm, brought his elbow up, and crushed the bully's arm. Before he could even react with pain, Ash pulled him in by the broken arm and side-kicked him in the gut. His former assailant fell to his knees, broken. Ash moved in, wrapping his arm around the bully's neck and slamming him to the ground on his back. Just as he reared back his fist, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic satisfaction, his opponent screamed "Oh god, stop! I'm sorry, please just stop!"
Ash looked around him. A crowd had gathered, shouting and jeering and watching the fight. "Knock that bitch out!" someone called out.
Ash looked down. The kid he kneeled on was in tears. But he deserved it. They all did.
Ash turned over his head and delivered a concussive hit to the side of it, K.O.ing the bully. He walked through the crowd of cheering, psychotic students.
There were other fights. A lot of them. Ash became more and more ruthless and brutal with each one, and never lost due to his training and conditioning. Each time, he left his opponent with something broken, something pounded in horribly. Eventually, Ash even started giving in and wanting it, enjoyed hurting the bastards who would come up to him and try and make him suffer, only to leave them writhing in pain on the ground. Frequently, he would even start brawls, taking exception to the way someone would look at him, or their tone. Eventually, he became feared, first as just a monster in a fight, but also as someone who became and aggressor and came after people. He became what he despised. But always after it happened, he would go home and feel like shit. This wasn't the kind of person he wanted to be. He didn't want to go through life doing this over and over.
One day, he was sent up to the principal's office to talk. But there was another kid there. Someone he didn't recognize.
"Hello Ash," the principal said. "It's my understanding that you've become quite well-known around campus for what you do. You seem to have a knack for accosting and assaulting many students here. Now, obviously we both know that given the sort of environment this school is based in, that violence is unavoidable. However, that doesn't mean this school staff will stand by and allow repeat offenders to become a threat to everyone else in the school.
"I figured that, given enough time, one of the other students would see to putting you in your place, but that doesn't seem to be happening. So, I've brought in someone I thought might pose more of a sufficient challenge."
The principal gestured to the other kid, who was seated in a chair. He was some Asian, dressed in a black trench coat, boots and gloves, and had short, staticky black hair. More than a little weird. Ash had the feeling he was someone dangerous.
"Ash, meet Ken Shishido. He works as an enforcer of school policy for other campuses in the district, and I asked him to come deal with a certain trouble-maker. You."
The principal clapped his hands once. Suddenly, Ken leaped out of his chair at an incredible speed and brandished a baton. "Holy shit, he's fast," thought Ash right before he was hit in the face with the baton. Stumbling back, Ash barely dodged the next 5 swings of the baton. Forced into a corner of the room, he ducked under a horizontal slash and caught the baton with his hands, lashing out at Ken's face with his elbow.
Ken caught it easily and kicked back Ash, suddenly flying into a flurry of kicks. Ash could only block the first six before being pelted by four more. He flew back onto the top of another desk, and rolled off right before the baton came down and broke it in half. Leaping over it, Ken advanced, twirling his baton before slashing vertically.
Ash caught it again, this time pulling in Ken and landing a punch on his chin. Ken barely even flinched. He jumped up, spun in the air, and kicked Ash in the side of his head. Ash came down in a heap, his body bruised and face bleeding. He panted heavily, wondering how the Ken guy could have been so fast.
Just before he blacked out, he heard Ken say, "You were pretty fast. But still just another loser."
When he woke up, he was in a hospital room. When he saw Ken sitting next to his bed, he nearly freaked out and jumped up, but of course he was too injured.
"Just relax. You couldn't beat me even before I beat the hell out of you."
"What the hell, why did you attack me," snarled Ash. He hated being tied down in the stupid bed.
"You know why. You costed your school quite a lot of money in repairs to damaged property, not to mention you became a proliferation of violence in an already unstable community. You were a problem."
"Whatever," spat Ash. "I didn't start all this shit, they did. I just gave back more than I received."
"Maybe. Not my problem...Ash. In any event, you're going to be transferred to another school...Public High School #259. It's the perfect sort of place for someone like you. Around here, you may enjoy beating up a bunch of uncoordinated druggies and skinheads, but at 259... well, let's just say you won't be as strong there as you may think you are. You'll find some people who are your equals, but mostly people who can kick your ass.
"Now, the reason why I came over here to tell you this is because I want to see what you're made of. When we fought, you showed potential. I know you're probably still pissy about me beating your sorry little ass, but I'll tell you what: if you can survive at least a full year at 259.... well, I may be in touch for another fight. Good luck." With that, Ken Shishido stood up and walked out of the room.
Now attending Public High School 259, Ash prepares for whatever comes ahead. He sees this as a second lease on life: he'll try to become stronger, not through fighting but as a human being, someone in charge of their destiny and not caught in a malaise of fighting and despair. He can only hope.
Living Status Information[/u]
Type of resident:Lives in a dorm with other people in another neighborhood.
Roommates: (N/A)
Cases Against The Faculty: 0
Cases Of Hurting Students: 0
Name:Ash Noland
Age:15
Height:5'20 in.
Weight:128 lbs.
Blood Type:O
Gender:Male
Sexuality:Straight
Eye Color:Blue
Hair:Straight, long brown
School: (PHS 259 or PHS 260)
Pass Time Information
Hobbies:Listening to music, studying, wandering around at night
Talents:An academically-minded person who devotes a lot of time to studying. He does well in school; learning and memorizing things takes his mind off of more stressful issues and is an easy way for him to vent. He can handle himself in a fight.
Favorite things:Music in general; food in general; observing and being amongst the night life; enjoying life overall.
Mental Information
Personality: He's outwardly an ordinary, casual, laid-back kind of guy who's easy to talk to and friendly; not something you see a whole lot of at this kind of school. He's intelligent, but humble and tries to stay out of the spotlight.
On the inside though, he's a very deep-thinking, serious person with strong convictions based on things that have happened to him in the past, and things he's done that he's never been proud of and has been ashamed for. He tries hard to atone and be a good person, but sometimes, that old, darker part of him gets dragged out in the worst of situations.
Mentality:Although in the past he's been confrontative and combative towards others, he now tries hard to avoid fighting when possible. He can shrug off insults more easily now and is a keenly patient, strong-willed person who's hard to provoke. But when he's pushed past his breaking point, and you manage to hurt him in some way, he can be a ruthless, violent person you don't want coming at you.
Ideal:None in particular
Belief:Likely an agnostic
Physical Information
Build:A gangly, rather lean person of no particularly athletic build. He's long-limbed and has good reach.
Head:Has a modestly handsome face and long brown hair. His vivid blue eyes are his most distinguished feature.
Torso:Average build. He used to work out more often and be much more muscular, and he has some muscle in his chest, but not a whole lot. He has a scar in the shape of a rather large slash mark on his chest from a fight at a previous school.
Arms:Long arms that are much stronger and more powerful than they look.
Legs:He doesn't like to drive, so he just walks and occasionally jogs everywhere. His legs are more in shape and stronger than the rest of his body, and he can hit some decently powerful kicks.
Feet:Um.. they're feet. What's there to say really?
Apparel Information
Head Gear:Mainly wears headphones around his neck with some music playing while walking around
Shirts:Maroon t-shirt; black button shirt with black stripes
Pants:Dark dress pants
Shoes:Casual black shoes
Misc:*May update later when I get more items*
Fighting Information
Fighting Style:Krav Maga
Years Practiced:11 years
Description of style:Devised by Israeli military special forces in the Middle East for urban hand-to-hand warfare in situations where conventional weaponry is rendered ineffective. Has since been used by various law enforcement and government agencies as a means of powerful self-defense. Mixes elements of kick-boxing and karate with Jiujitsu. Emphasizes ending fights as quickly and desicisevely as possible by inflicting maximum damage on the enemy in a swift manner. Involves mainly combining combinations of punches and kicks linking with counters, throws, holds, counter-holds and disabling maneuvers. Having studied the human anatomy, Ash is well acquainted with most of the nerve areas of the body where one hit can put down an opponent. Once engaged in a fight he can't get out of, he doesn't hold back and won't hesitate to fight dirty as well seriously maim (or even use lethal attacks) on his opponent(s).
History Information
History: Only son of James Alan Noland, a narcotics-division police officer who worked in a rough neighborhood monitoring certain dangerous drug cartels. Ever since his mother died in a shooting during the robbery of a 7-11, Ash's father has personally trained him in fighting and how to survive. Because of the danger present in his living environment, Ash is no stranger to being shot at, or others making attempts on his life. After a while, he was even forced to use his fighting ability to fend off the occasional mugger and house invader when his father wasn't around. Life was rough, since he also lost a lot of good friends throughout his childhood to the violence in the inner city.
At his last school, Ash and another friend Alex were persecuted by a group of kids whose relatives had been put in prison by his dad. Usually, Ash and Alex were able to avoid them since he knew the layout of the city pretty well, but one day the punks caught up to them. Unable to avoid a fight, Ash put up a good struggle, injuring and bloodying most of his assailants, but he couldn't last against 14 other kids. When he saw his friend Alex hit behind the head with a crowbar, he was temporarily distracted; one of them pulled out a knife and slashed Ash across the chest, giving him a permanent scar and causing him to stumble to the ground.
While the attackers held him down, Ash looked over and saw Alex slowly bleeding out the back of his head where he'd been hit. As the guy with the knife prepared to stab him, Ash suddenly expirienced a surge of violent energy within him and blacked out. When he came to, he found himself wailing on the knife-kid, whose face had been mutilated by a number of punches and was already beaten to death. Ash immediately stopped and looked around him. All the other thugs were lying around, bones snapped, ribs crushed, limbs broken and faces punched and kicked in. Of all the other dangerous situations Ash had been, he'd never had something like this happen. He was usually able to get the other person to back off after a sound beating or subdue them in some other way. He'd never had something like this happen before, where he'd just lost control and started instinctively attacking.
"Holy shit", he whispered, starting to freak out. "What the hell did I do?"
He ran over to his friend Alex and and tried to help him, but he was too late. The damage had been done. Alex's skull had fractured from the fatal blow. He'd been dead for the twenty minutes Ash had gone on a rampage against the other thugs.
Ash was never the same. He'd lost a friend who'd been with him for most of his childhood, and who had stood by him so many times. He never even told his dad about it, just told him he'd gotten into a fight with some other idiot. Of course he couldn't; his dad had always taught to never use force in excess, otherwise you were exploiting your power only to hurt others. For days he he couldn't sleep after having killed six people (even if they'd been gang-bangers) and horribly maimed the other eight. He had trouble eating and even threw up some days.
However, just when he seemed to be moving past it was when things got their worst. The judicial system in the city was corrupt and bought out by the same cartels his dad James was working against, and a month after the incident, many of the dealers were acquitted based on false defense conjecture. When they learned about what happened to their sons and cousins, all roughed up by some cop's son, they moved to take revenge. Using their contacts within the police, they learned who it was they were after.
One weekend, he was sitting at home working on schoolwork when his dad suddenly bursted in.
"Dad?"
"Ash!" James yelled. "Get in your room and lock it, now! Some dealers are coming to trash the house!"
Ash froze. "What?"
His dad grabbed him and got in his face, forcing eye contact. "Goddammit, don't question me, just do it!"
Nothing more needed to be said. Ash went upstairs and closed his door just in time. He heard the front door suddenly be kicked down as he closed the door.
From the sounds raging throughout the house, Ash could hear everything: the dealers all shouting, furniture and objects flying and smashing everywhere. He knew his Dad had practiced martial arts all his life, but he could hear him slowly being beaten down by his attackers.
"Oh god. What do I do?"
When Ash couldn't take it anymore, he slowly opened part of his door. Some thug was standing just in front of him, watching everything happening downstairs. Ash moved behind him, then sprang up and pulled back the guy's head by his hair as he'd learned from his father. Before he could make a sound, Ash knocked him out with a jab to the throat. He crept up behind the stairs and saw what happened.
The entire living room was trashed. Crap was strewn everywhere: the door was kicked down, windows were shattered, everything in the room was on the floor and in pieces. There were gangsters lying around all over the place, dead or knocked out by James. But five of them finally had knocked him onto the ground, kicking, stomping, punching and hitting him with tire irons. One of them started to pull a gun.
"NO!" Screamed Ash, vaulting down the stairs, right before he heard the gunshot. Suddenly, his senses were blocked out by his heartbeat and his vision blurred. He could only dimly sense raining down blow after blow on the dealers, feeling their blood in his fists, his body moving automatically going through them like a knife through hot butter.
He blinked.
Ash looked down. The thug who'd shot his dad lay dead on the ground, his neck and arm broken. The other four were gone as well.
Ash kneeled next to his father. He didn't leave him, didn't cry, didn't scream, just sat in devastation for a half hour until the paramedics came.
12 weeks later...
Ash lived in a "temporary settlement" with some other youths who didn't have anywhere else to go. He'd been transferred to another state so he'd be protected from further violent harrassment from cartels.
Ash attended a school called Remington High. Another backwards dump with domestic violence. There didn't seem to be any escape from it all. Ash learned soon that at this school, things were run by those who were strong; everyone else got beaten up and robbed on campus every day of the week.
It wasn't long before someone came up to Ash in the cafeteria and demanded his wallet. At first, Ash ignored him. He didn't want it to happen again. He still did nothing when the other kid grabbed him by the back of his shirt and hauled him out of his seat. He did nothing when they threw him up against a locker. But it only took one punch to the face to wake him up.
Suddenly, a surge of flashbacks went through his mind: Alex dead, his father dead, all the people who'd wronged him in the past.
He instinctively rebelled.
The bully threw his next punch, but Ash grabbed it and yanked his wrist, breaking it with one pull. Shrieking, the bully stumbled back, holding his hand. Ash grabbed his outstretched arm, brought his elbow up, and crushed the bully's arm. Before he could even react with pain, Ash pulled him in by the broken arm and side-kicked him in the gut. His former assailant fell to his knees, broken. Ash moved in, wrapping his arm around the bully's neck and slamming him to the ground on his back. Just as he reared back his fist, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic satisfaction, his opponent screamed "Oh god, stop! I'm sorry, please just stop!"
Ash looked around him. A crowd had gathered, shouting and jeering and watching the fight. "Knock that bitch out!" someone called out.
Ash looked down. The kid he kneeled on was in tears. But he deserved it. They all did.
Ash turned over his head and delivered a concussive hit to the side of it, K.O.ing the bully. He walked through the crowd of cheering, psychotic students.
There were other fights. A lot of them. Ash became more and more ruthless and brutal with each one, and never lost due to his training and conditioning. Each time, he left his opponent with something broken, something pounded in horribly. Eventually, Ash even started giving in and wanting it, enjoyed hurting the bastards who would come up to him and try and make him suffer, only to leave them writhing in pain on the ground. Frequently, he would even start brawls, taking exception to the way someone would look at him, or their tone. Eventually, he became feared, first as just a monster in a fight, but also as someone who became and aggressor and came after people. He became what he despised. But always after it happened, he would go home and feel like shit. This wasn't the kind of person he wanted to be. He didn't want to go through life doing this over and over.
One day, he was sent up to the principal's office to talk. But there was another kid there. Someone he didn't recognize.
"Hello Ash," the principal said. "It's my understanding that you've become quite well-known around campus for what you do. You seem to have a knack for accosting and assaulting many students here. Now, obviously we both know that given the sort of environment this school is based in, that violence is unavoidable. However, that doesn't mean this school staff will stand by and allow repeat offenders to become a threat to everyone else in the school.
"I figured that, given enough time, one of the other students would see to putting you in your place, but that doesn't seem to be happening. So, I've brought in someone I thought might pose more of a sufficient challenge."
The principal gestured to the other kid, who was seated in a chair. He was some Asian, dressed in a black trench coat, boots and gloves, and had short, staticky black hair. More than a little weird. Ash had the feeling he was someone dangerous.
"Ash, meet Ken Shishido. He works as an enforcer of school policy for other campuses in the district, and I asked him to come deal with a certain trouble-maker. You."
The principal clapped his hands once. Suddenly, Ken leaped out of his chair at an incredible speed and brandished a baton. "Holy shit, he's fast," thought Ash right before he was hit in the face with the baton. Stumbling back, Ash barely dodged the next 5 swings of the baton. Forced into a corner of the room, he ducked under a horizontal slash and caught the baton with his hands, lashing out at Ken's face with his elbow.
Ken caught it easily and kicked back Ash, suddenly flying into a flurry of kicks. Ash could only block the first six before being pelted by four more. He flew back onto the top of another desk, and rolled off right before the baton came down and broke it in half. Leaping over it, Ken advanced, twirling his baton before slashing vertically.
Ash caught it again, this time pulling in Ken and landing a punch on his chin. Ken barely even flinched. He jumped up, spun in the air, and kicked Ash in the side of his head. Ash came down in a heap, his body bruised and face bleeding. He panted heavily, wondering how the Ken guy could have been so fast.
Just before he blacked out, he heard Ken say, "You were pretty fast. But still just another loser."
When he woke up, he was in a hospital room. When he saw Ken sitting next to his bed, he nearly freaked out and jumped up, but of course he was too injured.
"Just relax. You couldn't beat me even before I beat the hell out of you."
"What the hell, why did you attack me," snarled Ash. He hated being tied down in the stupid bed.
"You know why. You costed your school quite a lot of money in repairs to damaged property, not to mention you became a proliferation of violence in an already unstable community. You were a problem."
"Whatever," spat Ash. "I didn't start all this shit, they did. I just gave back more than I received."
"Maybe. Not my problem...Ash. In any event, you're going to be transferred to another school...Public High School #259. It's the perfect sort of place for someone like you. Around here, you may enjoy beating up a bunch of uncoordinated druggies and skinheads, but at 259... well, let's just say you won't be as strong there as you may think you are. You'll find some people who are your equals, but mostly people who can kick your ass.
"Now, the reason why I came over here to tell you this is because I want to see what you're made of. When we fought, you showed potential. I know you're probably still pissy about me beating your sorry little ass, but I'll tell you what: if you can survive at least a full year at 259.... well, I may be in touch for another fight. Good luck." With that, Ken Shishido stood up and walked out of the room.
Now attending Public High School 259, Ash prepares for whatever comes ahead. He sees this as a second lease on life: he'll try to become stronger, not through fighting but as a human being, someone in charge of their destiny and not caught in a malaise of fighting and despair. He can only hope.
Living Status Information[/u]
Type of resident:Lives in a dorm with other people in another neighborhood.
Roommates: (N/A)
Cases Against The Faculty: 0
Cases Of Hurting Students: 0
| Slot | Item(s) |
| Head | |
| Hat/Bandana | Row 19 Column 2 |
| Earrings | Row 20 Column 2 |
| Glasses | Row 21 Column 2 |
| [/td | |
| Torso | |
| Shirt | Row 2 Column 2 |
| Jacket/Coat | Row 3 Column 2 |
| Necklace | Row 4 Column 2 |
| [/td | |
| Arms | |
| Arm | Row 6 Column 2 |
| Wrist | Row 7 Column 2 |
| Gloves | Row 8 Column 2 |
| Ring | Row 9 Column 2 |
| [/td | |
| Legs | |
| Pants | Row 11 Column 2 |
| Shin | Row 12 Column 2 |
| Shoes | Row 13 Column 2 |
| Belt | Row 14 Column 2 |
| [/td | |
| Misc | |
| 1 | Row 16 Column 2 |
| 2 | Row 17 Column 2 |