This is sort of a prequel to Harry Potter and The Stone Of Immutation. It is a little side story involving Ashura. Read Harry Potter and The Curse of Katie Marvolo before this or you will not understand this!
This is written by my friend Tim Wheeler. He is the basis for the character Ashura. I hope you like it.
Story name: INTUITION
Long, black, night passing, only one place in London has it's lights still streaming bright. Joseph's pub, tended by the namesake, is holding against the stormy scenery, and even has a customer, a long-time regular, keeping Joseph busy. Imposing in physique, the man seemed like the stereotupe who would frequent a drink. His eyes focused on the back of the stall displaying the liquor, and he moved no muscle, but his right hand, which was used for quenching.
Fearing the outside tempest, a ragged man entered Joseph's and started to speak.
"Give me your best," he stated in an accent as dirty as his clothes.
"Ok, Tempest Sprizter. Wait a minute please."
After gettin served, the man sat down and readied himself, noting the man that was in before him.
"'Tis a bad morn, eh?" said the second man, hoping to converse. The first man stayed silent, sipping his wine.
"Damn, Joe! 'Tis a great piece of tendin'. This new?"
"Not at all. It's actually been my most requested for years."
"All fair then. I'm finished." The second man, standing now, proceeded out of the bar, but was stopped.
"You didn't pay for the beer," said the other man, breaking his silence.
"What? 'Course I did!"
"Don't play stupid. You buy a drink forcing the keep to please you, but you don't have the decency to show patronage?"
"So? You got a problem with that, mister? What's it to you?"
The cheap bum walked fast over to the other, who was still looking as before.
"You some blind guy? You got a lil cane, do ya? You look big, pretty boy, but I doubt your as strong as your size. What's a dumb shit like you gonna do to me, eh?"
Even still, the sitting man stayed to drinking his peace, which was now almost empty.
"You know what?" shouted the drunkard. "You're beginning to piss me off, man! I'm gonna give you a lesson in respect."
The man took out a crude knife, but quite suddenly, the sitting one stretched his left hand to the wrist holding the weapon, clutching it tightly. He then took another drink.
"Well, what now? Trying to cut me?"
Freeing his hand from the grasp, the fighter lunged at the ominous man, but before impact, the tall figure vanished in a whim and a blink.
"What in the?" said the lone guy, brandishing the knife. He ran out of the pub screaming, and Joseph started cleaning glasses, with a faint smile on his face.
Harsh winds still howling in the blackness, the drunk man searched the street for the "ghost". His yelling ran for miles, and teary eyed dreamers awoke to it, and ran out to see the reason of their broken slumber.
A voice shot out from behind the broke man.
"You've attracted a good rabble, you sorry fool. Are you ready for JUSTICE?"
Out of the very mist in which he escaped the pub, the ominous man stood prone, waitingfor the next move.
"OH!" said one from the crowd "It's the Hammer of Justice!" Just then, they all leaped into a rouse of excitement.
"HUH? YOu think I'm scared of you? What makes you a tough guy. That trick you pulled at the pub was somethin', big pretty boy, but I'm not messing nah."
The drunk man lunged again at the Hammer, but he dodged with swiftness even a cheeta could not match.
"Oh, another neat trick, eh? That ain't nothing!" Another attempt, but another miss.
"Ergh! Come on. You wanna hit me?"
"I shouldn't waste my movement, but you asked."
With one punch, the other man was sent flying through lamposts and other debris before crashing into the alley.
Walking slowly to the beaten man, The Hammer stood fields tall over his victim.
"Now, normally, I would have been kind, but you pissed me off."
As quick as he had destroyed the bum, The Hammer reached into his long, leather coat and pulled out a leather bag, which contained an axe the size of a normal man.
After holding the blade close to the throat The Hammer asked, "Will you pay Joseph now? That spritzer cost $10." Seeing how the bum was unconscious, The Hammer reached into the pocket and grabbed the fee. Hearing the admiration of the crowd, and the thunder cracking in the night, he walked calmly back to Joseph's.
"Did you have fun Ashura?" Joseph asked. "Not bad for you first day back."
"It's strange, I figured things would have been better. Oh well, it's not that bad."
A woman walked into Joseph's, and screamed with joy, "Hammer, you mashed that guy. Served him right, 'cause he was a thorn in us for a while. Thank you."
Ashura, nodding with a smile, turned back to staring at the wall, sipping his glass one more time, before lying it down empty, just as it was before he came.
The END. THIS IS A ONE TIME FIC! MAYBE! I HAVE TO TALK TO MY BUDDY! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND I WILL TELL HIM!
Prongs Jr.
This is written by my friend Tim Wheeler. He is the basis for the character Ashura. I hope you like it.
Story name: INTUITION
Long, black, night passing, only one place in London has it's lights still streaming bright. Joseph's pub, tended by the namesake, is holding against the stormy scenery, and even has a customer, a long-time regular, keeping Joseph busy. Imposing in physique, the man seemed like the stereotupe who would frequent a drink. His eyes focused on the back of the stall displaying the liquor, and he moved no muscle, but his right hand, which was used for quenching.
Fearing the outside tempest, a ragged man entered Joseph's and started to speak.
"Give me your best," he stated in an accent as dirty as his clothes.
"Ok, Tempest Sprizter. Wait a minute please."
After gettin served, the man sat down and readied himself, noting the man that was in before him.
"'Tis a bad morn, eh?" said the second man, hoping to converse. The first man stayed silent, sipping his wine.
"Damn, Joe! 'Tis a great piece of tendin'. This new?"
"Not at all. It's actually been my most requested for years."
"All fair then. I'm finished." The second man, standing now, proceeded out of the bar, but was stopped.
"You didn't pay for the beer," said the other man, breaking his silence.
"What? 'Course I did!"
"Don't play stupid. You buy a drink forcing the keep to please you, but you don't have the decency to show patronage?"
"So? You got a problem with that, mister? What's it to you?"
The cheap bum walked fast over to the other, who was still looking as before.
"You some blind guy? You got a lil cane, do ya? You look big, pretty boy, but I doubt your as strong as your size. What's a dumb shit like you gonna do to me, eh?"
Even still, the sitting man stayed to drinking his peace, which was now almost empty.
"You know what?" shouted the drunkard. "You're beginning to piss me off, man! I'm gonna give you a lesson in respect."
The man took out a crude knife, but quite suddenly, the sitting one stretched his left hand to the wrist holding the weapon, clutching it tightly. He then took another drink.
"Well, what now? Trying to cut me?"
Freeing his hand from the grasp, the fighter lunged at the ominous man, but before impact, the tall figure vanished in a whim and a blink.
"What in the?" said the lone guy, brandishing the knife. He ran out of the pub screaming, and Joseph started cleaning glasses, with a faint smile on his face.
Harsh winds still howling in the blackness, the drunk man searched the street for the "ghost". His yelling ran for miles, and teary eyed dreamers awoke to it, and ran out to see the reason of their broken slumber.
A voice shot out from behind the broke man.
"You've attracted a good rabble, you sorry fool. Are you ready for JUSTICE?"
Out of the very mist in which he escaped the pub, the ominous man stood prone, waitingfor the next move.
"OH!" said one from the crowd "It's the Hammer of Justice!" Just then, they all leaped into a rouse of excitement.
"HUH? YOu think I'm scared of you? What makes you a tough guy. That trick you pulled at the pub was somethin', big pretty boy, but I'm not messing nah."
The drunk man lunged again at the Hammer, but he dodged with swiftness even a cheeta could not match.
"Oh, another neat trick, eh? That ain't nothing!" Another attempt, but another miss.
"Ergh! Come on. You wanna hit me?"
"I shouldn't waste my movement, but you asked."
With one punch, the other man was sent flying through lamposts and other debris before crashing into the alley.
Walking slowly to the beaten man, The Hammer stood fields tall over his victim.
"Now, normally, I would have been kind, but you pissed me off."
As quick as he had destroyed the bum, The Hammer reached into his long, leather coat and pulled out a leather bag, which contained an axe the size of a normal man.
After holding the blade close to the throat The Hammer asked, "Will you pay Joseph now? That spritzer cost $10." Seeing how the bum was unconscious, The Hammer reached into the pocket and grabbed the fee. Hearing the admiration of the crowd, and the thunder cracking in the night, he walked calmly back to Joseph's.
"Did you have fun Ashura?" Joseph asked. "Not bad for you first day back."
"It's strange, I figured things would have been better. Oh well, it's not that bad."
A woman walked into Joseph's, and screamed with joy, "Hammer, you mashed that guy. Served him right, 'cause he was a thorn in us for a while. Thank you."
Ashura, nodding with a smile, turned back to staring at the wall, sipping his glass one more time, before lying it down empty, just as it was before he came.
The END. THIS IS A ONE TIME FIC! MAYBE! I HAVE TO TALK TO MY BUDDY! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND I WILL TELL HIM!
Prongs Jr.