RPG

Sitting on a ridge, rocket launcher in hand and an AK-47 next to him (with a small arsenal of pistols, baseball bats, and trench knives in their cases behind him), Dalek was set to enjoy igniting a military installation centered in the middle of a stupid jungle. Jungles were wastes of space to Dalek, just a crapload of trees waiting to be cut down and animals destined to become packaged meat substitutes for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Damn, he was in a bad mood. He always got this way during the holidays (most likely because his entire family had been dead for almost a thousand years). A cigar in his maw, he barely even touched the trigger before the place went up in smoke. Some jacka$$ was destroying his stuff before Dalek even knew how he was going to divide the swag! Leaping down, strapped to the bristled hair with bats, knives, and as many guns as someone can push up a buffalo backwards, Dalek raced down the rocks to engage whatever waited down there in the carnage.

SAI!! SAI!!

The sound of calamitous explosions echoed through the tranquil jungle over and over like the fury of a god blasting the earth with his celestial spears of lightning.Exotic birds of paradise fluttered into the beautiful azure cloudless sky from their paranoia as if being chased by an undetectable predator which haunted them through sound.Deep in the hunter green depths of the amazon, Christian trained vigorously, his heart rushing with the beat of Liberate, a song playing on his iPod by Disturbed a metal band which was know for its successful hit, Down with the sickness.Sweat trickling down the edges of his face, Chris continued his onslaught of brutal blows upon trees with the unforgiving prowess of a martial arts master.He could feel the splinters of the thick 50 foot tall wooden towers sink into his callous knuckles as he struck them with the power of his immeasurable strength.After his fist crushed through the base of one tree, he then used the deadened half which had been torn asunder and thrusted himself in the form of a kick push, propelling himself into a spinning backward corkscrew motion, leaning him in the direction of a new fresh target.Nearing the sight of another wooden obstacle, Chris contorted his body into an upside down position aiming his face to the ground while bringing forth his locked knee into the center of solid tree. Crackoom!! The artwork of nature's fruiton folded instantly in the wake of the Chris's determination and desire to hone his skills.

HAA!!

Twisting his body in a front flip reverse motion, Chris brought his knee from the broken tree down to the grassy moss of the amazonian jungle, his right fist clenched in a tight grip holding him up from the earth, his left pulled into his abdomen forcing his elbow to potrude outwards aiming at the scene of destruction he had just caused.As his head stood in a crestfallen motion, beams of sunlight cracked through the leafy branches of the jungle, illuminating sections of his crimson red GI. Hearing the song on his iPod come to an end, he felt the adrenaline in his body rapidly decrease to a minimum which slowed down his heart rate in the process.Panting, from his highented rate of physical activity, Chris pushed of his right foot which was bare and covered with dirt and patches of mossy grass.Looking up to the sky he could see the silhouette of an uknown figure covered in the shadow of the sun's heavenly gaze descend from an ascending hill.Smiling with interest, Chris wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his right arm and began to wipe the stains of blood from his fist onto his already battle scarred martial arts uniform.The figure treaded nearer and nearer with each step, without warning nor yeild. Who was the mysterious entity which was engaging him at the present moment? It didn't matter.Letting his battle instnct grab hold of his spirit, he fashioned himself into his Ryu-karate style form, tightening his  fingerless gloved fists keeping them at the ready.His feet grasping the earth with the use of his toes.

You lost or somethin bruh?

A beautiful summer day, ruined and scoffed by a ruffian in mock martial arts drag, all of which looked dirty and unsophisticated, drawn up by an artist whose sole mental status was violence. It was painful to watch this barbarian destroy such refined and dignified plants as the trees were, now broken and more waste than plant. Dalek's streamined design seemed polar to the thing in front of him, and it made him quiver.

"You lost or somethin' bruh?" his voice was poison to Dalek's ears and it filled him with desire to reel.

There was a glimmer of light from Dalek's waist and in his hand was a gleaming blade, about a foot long, the handle extended into a knuckle-guard. It was a trench knife, customized and modeled to Dalek's liking, with four skull-shaped buttons along the striking edge, and a polished shine across the cutting edge. Dalek ran his thumb over the buttons, his posture calm and toned as the blue and white of his costume reflected the sun's glare, giving him an automated cooling system. This gave him an advantage against his opponent, who was already sweating from a previous exercise, and whose clothes were dark, thick, and heavy.

"I am Jhentoh. That's all you need to know as of this moment."

Dalek moved forward a step, his holsters moving without a sound. He was accustomed to utter silence, because it was his life, and each motion he made was deaf. Suddenly, a pair of dice appeared at his opponent's feet and Dalek tightened his gaze. The dice were bombs, administered with a powerful nerve gas, set to explode in the instant his foe would look down.