Story time. (long)(cliffs)(retro)

[86 IROC-Z]

The following is a true story. Written by 86 iroc-z, evening of 08/09/10. Cliffs at end.

Best read while imagining it in the accent of the narrators/characters of movies like 300, or Braveheart, etc.

Gentlemen, I wish to tell you a story. I must warn you, this tale doesn't contain more recent adventures as you may be accustomed to. No, this story speaks of a time many seasons ago; a time when the man you know as 86 Iroc-z was not yet the god-like example of perfection you know him as today, but instead a young child, barely what most would consider an adolescent. I had not yet felt a woman's warmth, and oh, how that lack of experience misguided my actions. But nevertheless, it is a story that must be told, to serve as a lesson to those future generations, who wish to follow in my footsteps, yet learn from my missteps. And so it was.


The Gregorian calendar sets the beginning of our tale to be in the year Two Thousand One. My young eyes up to this point have only experienced the snow of but twelve Winters, and the regrowth of but twelve Springs. And on this twelfth Summer, I find myself in the midst of a competition of aquatic speed. Unbeknownst to myself at the time, this sport would be my calling for long after this day, ending only in the recent past. But that in itself is a culmination of experiences best left for another day, and 'tis only a coincidence that this setting begins the story at hand.


It is the event of the season. Two great communities, not a stones throw separating them, have pitted their young against one another to seek out glory. As lad of great height and strength for my tender age, I am a great asset to my community, and a valiant contender for my cause. Each race is a test of my courage, my resilience; the deepest test of my mettle. During the time in between my individual events, I mill around the staging area where hundreds of other youths prepare for the daunting tasks that lay ahead of them. Hundreds of youths: discussing, debating, cheering. The sound should have been immense, but I heard silence, as I kept within my own mind, pondering thoughts of victory.


My thoughts were, eventually, to my slight frustration, interrupted. My brother. Younger by two years, but descending from the same warrior bloodline as I, thus following my path as a champion among his peers. He brings to me a proposition. His news states that a fair maiden has taken to me. Even at my young age, I understand the importance of finding a mate in these trying times. However, my initial interest is fleeting after I find she shares the same amount of years on this earth as my brother. Customs at this age deter me from pursuing this dame, for my peers would have vehemently disagreed with my choice. Oh how the times change as we age.


Although I have set my decision in stone, I of course agree to meet; for one should always expand one's circle of acquaintances in the search for truer friendship. My presence is announced by my kin, and I am introduced to this girl of only ten years. Her competition garments disguise little, and it is clear that it shall be quite a few harvests past before she becomes a woman.

She gazes at me with dark eyes that match her locks of hair. She silently searches my face for an answer to her hopes, but she is returned nothing. I have no time for emotions. Not tonight. Only the task that lay ahead matters. Only the task. Only the race.



Many seasons pass. I become an acclaimed name in my town regarding the performance of my competition, and I have found a maiden true only to my love. A touch more than four long years have passed since meeting that young girl, and now, two months before the seventeenth celebration of my birth, I enter the final year of the basic education mandated by the Kingdom.


My schedule of the curriculum for this final year begins with the study of a language long forgotten, spoken eons ago by poets who sang of great valor, and by philosophers of wisdom still applicable millennia after the fact. I arrive early, and await the instructors presence. He arrives punctually, greets the class in words foreign to us all, and then quietly awaits the proper time to begin educating. I review the first few sections of the tome of knowledge before me, to grasp a preview of the material soon to be learned.


Her entrance annihilates what concentration I might have had use for throughout length of the lecture. In walks the young girl I had met that fateful night, but no longer was she young, nor was she a girl. She glided in, a picturesque example of a maiden ripening into womanhood. Had I less control of myself, I might have cried, "By the fathers of Nazareth... What is this creation?" Thankfully my cry was heard only within my own mind. Out of her fourteen years, those since our initial meeting had been most kind. What had once existed as a primitive, formless, blank canvas of a body, now holds the lines and beauty of a woman. Her locks were long and her dark eyes piercing.


The instructors words fell deaf to my ears for little less than an hour, after which we were relieved of our attendance. We spake to one another as commoners do to one another. Through conversing I found that I was not the only one to have found a mate, but she had found a man of great strength for herself. Although loyal to my own maiden, my heart felt the crushing sting of loss at this news. We parted ways, and I was left to wallow in my thoughts of what might have been, for just a small difference in action all those years ago.


The gods were cruel to me this year, not only teasing me with her presence in one of my academic pursuits, but they also saw fit to place her on the same sporting team as my own maiden, of which competitions I was obliged to attend. T'was a long year.


But that year eventually passed, as each must. The dame of only thoughts, forgotten; life was lived on for another few years. However the gods again felt the need to tempt my anger. In an coincidence similar to the prior situation, once again, she was a freshman, and I, a senior, albeit within the next higher echelon of education. A reconnection was formed between us, and losing my maiden in the year past, I fancied a possible materialization of former thoughts. But thoughts they continued to be, for although I am seeking a mate, she has found one yet again, leaving me to my own devices. Twenty one years I have been alive at this point, for her, nineteen. Perhaps, perhaps there will be hope, in the future.




Cliffs:
-brother says girl is into me
-she's 10, I'm 12, I lol and ignore
-4 years later she's in my class in high school
-she got hot
-bertstare.jpg
-she's also on my girlfriends soccer team
-I get to see the juxtaposition between them at each game/practice
-FML
-4 years later (this year) we reconnect
-shes in a relationship, I'm not
-rageguy.jpg
-cool story bro
-pics in post #11

[blackSS01]

Pics

[Mr. Luos]

Best read while imagining it in the accent of the narrators/characters of movies like 300, or Braveheart, etc.

Your proofreading sucked.
________, or __________, etc....
I looked this up in Google. It has the be write.




Will Clash of the Titans work?

[silverWS6]

We spake to one another as commoners do to one another.

spake? Spake? SPAKE? Fucking spake?! WTF did you proofread for if you still sounded stupid? Where the fuck are the pics and don't give me the "no pics" bullshit story either.

[86 IROC-Z]

Pics

brb

Your proofreading sucked.
________, or __________, etc....
I looked this up in Google. It has the be write.




Will Clash of the Titans work?

Sorry, that sentence was added in after the fact.

I haven't seen it, but I imagine it should definitely work.

[86 IROC-Z]

spake? Spake? SPAKE? Fucking spake?! WTF did you proofread for if you still sounded stupid? Where the fuck are the pics and don't give me the "no pics" bullshit story either.

That's how commoners spake to each other back then, bro.

[silverWS6]

That's how commoners spake to each other back then, bro.

Your spaking outta your ass now

[67CamaroRSSS]

spake? Spake? SPAKE? Fucking spake?! WTF did you proofread for if you still sounded stupid? Where the fuck are the pics and don't give me the "no pics" bullshit story either.

You need to up your verbiage game dude.

They even made a book about it, "Thus spake Zaranthustra".

http://philosophy.eserver.org/nietzsche-zarathustra.txt

[silverWS6]

You need to up your verbiage game dude.

They even made a book about it, "Thus spake Zaranthustra".

http://philosophy.eserver.org/nietzsche-zarathustra.txt

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck that

[86 IROC-Z]

You need to up your verbiage game dude.

They even made a book about it, "Thus spake Zaranthustra".

http://philosophy.eserver.org/nietzsche-zarathustra.txt

Thanks

Pics soon.

[86 IROC-Z]

pics as per request

[silverWS6]

Should've done her when you were 12 Iroc

[86 IROC-Z]

Should've done her when you were 12 Iroc

yea i guess

[c5z28]

She knows that you know that you screwed up.

[Smkn_TA]

The following is a true story. Written by 86 iroc-z, evening of 08/09/10. Cliffs at end.

Hello, I'm 86 iroc-z. The following tale of a girl encounter is true and by true, I mean false. Its all lies. But they're entertaining lies, and in the end isn't that the real truth? The answer is no.

[Spaz]

pics as per request

left cheek sneak... i see it... she's been fartin...

[Grimpala]

She got a fake rack?

[pajeff02]

Did you win the race?

[67CamaroRSSS]

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck that

As I thought, the poster child for "Idiocracy", potentially the Costco greeter position...

[blackSS01]

She looks older then said age! She looks good but just looks older