Johnathan awoke one morning to the sound of his rustic, old alarm clock. It was not digital, it was not capsule corp. It was trinket from a simpler time. Reaching over across the smelly, warped mat he had laid out on the floor to twist the nob which set it off, he managed to knock it over, and further away from himself.



"God damint..." He said in a hushed tone as he groaned himself awake. The pain of last night's escapades still fresh.
 

It was the morning of the national qualifiers for the worlds martial arts tournament. Johnathan sat up and began to slowly rub his forehead, it was pounding. A man from the bar he worked at had decided to test his luck by smashing a bottle over Johnny's head. The bottle shattered in three places but so did the man when Johnny was done. His friends, they took a little longer.


Johnny was a fighter through and through. A boxer of the Western style, the old style. He did know a few kicks here and there and he could wrestle, did 4 years of it in high school, he was good at wrestling, even going as far as taking 2nd place in state a couple of years in a row. But his heart was not into wrestling or into the fancy kicks and flips some people like to do. Boxing was his passion, it was his first love. It would be his last love. Not that love meant much to Johnny.
He just did not "Get girls" Not in the usual way. He did not know how to talk to them or how to act around them. Though he would never admit it he would get nervous whenever he felt like it was time to talk to a women and since fitness was all he knew he would talk at length about himself and his arms, especially his arms. He liked his arms. Relationships always scared him, but oddly he was fine with rejection. When ever a women would reject him he would feel comfortable about them, it was like his brain stopped worrying about them. There were worse things though. Useless fights, and having to scuffle with drunken strangers. Those were always the worse. Those nights were bad.
Last night was one such night.
Jonathan was a bartender and while at work one night he managed to strike up a conversation with a pretty young lady that had caught his eye, or perhaps he had caught hers?He had not seen her earlier, which was odd. He made it a point to eye all the different women that would come in and out of the establishment. He liked to see who they were with and make sure they were safe. Of course when he found out that she had just been mad at her boy friend and decided to make him jealous by talking to a bigger man, that man being Johnny, he had wished he never met her. It was not the first time Johnny would have to toss a couple of guys out of the bar but it was one of the most inconvenient time.



Pa pop, the local owner even had to get involved once the police showed up and the medics in tow. Apparently Johnny had landed a straight cross so hard into the mans chest that his clavicle has splintered and caused the man to almost have a stroke. With a couple of nights in jail riding on the line and now legal fees Johnny was lucky to only get suspended for the time being. It was fine. He still made his tips that night and he had plans anyways. He just wished his head didn't hurt so bad.



************

By the time he got up and started to pack his sleeping bag the train had already .begun to arrive. Taking a sip of his protein shake he had prepped the night before he was ready for the long ride to center city. He stopped for a moment to take one last look at the station. If he wins or even if he places this would be the last time he would see this place ever again. He could use the prize money to buy a house, maybe go to school, or perhaps start his own gym. He was not sure what he would do with it honestly and it did not really matter. He was not doing it for the money anyways. He just wanted to test himself. He wanted to see how far he could go in a tournament like this.



The nalegenes and carabiners on the sides of his pack clanked together as he got on the bus. Finding an isolated seat in the corner was not hard to do on the 323 am bus to center city. There was one other man on the bus but he was a smelly bum probably a guy down on his luck. Maybe he'd lost his job to the machines which now ran and worked in so many sectors. Johnny was the same. He worked a job before, lost it to an android. Johnny did not like to dwell in the past. He did not like to think of his old job, or his old life. He would leave it behind today, along with everyone else who ever doubted him. As he reached into his pack he pulled out a few of his only belongings. A tube of paste and an electric solar powered brush. It was pink. He watched the train as it ascended in its height and began to pick up speed. He started at the building in the distance as they began to grow closer as he used the window to reflect a visage of his face. Within a few hours he would arrive the center city spaceport. From there he would board a cabin cruiser and take off to shutter island where this tourney was to be held.



His left hand was starting to shake. He gripped on to it tightly with his other. He was starting to get the jitters. It happened all of the time before a fight. He never thought to much of it. Only that it meant had something to look forward to. Unable to contain the excitement he started wrap his arms and begin his workout routines. for about 15mins he bobbed and weaved, followed by 15mins of jabs, just jabs. Then he would shadow box for another fifteen, and then run a series of pushups, sit up, and squats. It was his warm up of course. Not enough to make him sore but enough for him to feel it and enough for the anxiety to give way to comfort and confidence. He was always calm in a fight. His body just knew what to do. He himself barely did any of the thinking, years of training and daydreaming had given way to an automatic system or style of his. Though he was actually better off doing mixed martial arts, throwing in the kicks and the slams, the grabs, and the athleticism. He preferred boxing still. To him it was not about winning. It was about the rush and boxing was the sweet yet simple. Pure yet brutal science that he knew more than anything else. Whenever he fought a man. He could feel his soul. He knew what to say to him, how to move around him how to brace himself and time his weaves or his bobs to minimize the damage. Johnny was a much faster man then you would expect for his size and build. He could also take a hit and he was hard to tire out. fighting was his muse. It was his one love and if it were up to him it would be his only love. His first and his last. 

W.C: 1314/ Total- 1315/ Post #1