Sunday, 12 February 2012

Nix and Mist: The Remaining Chapter 1: Trouble

It has changed from the original. Sorry about that, it was "editing".


Nixion Strange punched the bag with an extreme ferocity only someone like he could muster. In fact it was quite possible, even likely, that Nixion was the only one who could must that much ferocity. Nixion was someone with so much pent up anger, so much rage, that he would take it out on anyone who got in his way. That was a good description of Nixion.
He quickly changed his tactic and went for two low punches before coming up with a high one after. The punching bag swayed violently and threatened to snap off the string. In a fight, Nixion never wanted anyone predicting his attacks which was the reason most of his time was spent attacking the punching bag brutally these days. Each time, each day, he would use a different kind of combination until he had mastered it, then would extend it until by the end of the day he would have a combination of attacks that would last an age. With each hit, Nixion grew angrier and angrier; he was unstable and unpredictable. Soon the punching bag begun insulting his intelligence in Nixion’s mind. Practically growling in anger, Nixion forgot about being tactical now, forgot his combination he had been working on for the last two hours, and punched the bag. Hard. Incredibly hard. He hit it once. Twice. Three times. He punched it as hard as he could again and again and again, every punch simply making him angrier. Every punch brought back another painful memory. Punch. His kidnapping. Punch. The torture. Punch. The brainwashing. Punch. The murder.
Tears did not gather in his eyes, instead they gathered in his mind before being pulverized and mutating themselves into misshapen forms of rage and Nixion snapped. He roared in a blind rage and a single punch to where the gut on a human would be took the punching bag spinning off the rope that connected it to the ceiling and it came crashing onto the floor. He and the bag went rolling across the ground of his dojo and Nixion dived after it. He landed on top of the bag and sent fists raining down upon it. In a matter of minutes the bag threatened to spill it’s sand over the floor and Nixion was only too happy to assist it.
“I HATE YOU!” he bellowed and there was a huge swipe and next second sand was pouring out of a large gash across the punching bag. Nixon sat on top of it holding the machete he had just pulled out from his jacket in his hand. He slowly stood up, panting heavily in a controlled fury. He wiped his forehead, ridding it of sweat before hearing something in the room. In the second he realized he wasn’t alone, Nixion blurred and spun, his machete held to the intruders throat. A glare leaped to his face when he saw who it was. Standing in front of him were Nixion’s…friends. His machete was held to Zathract Mist’s throat who stood there with a cocky smirk on his face. Nixion just called him Mist. He just called him Nix. The two pissed each other off to unbelievable amounts. Mist had once saved Nixion’s life, and he would never let him forget it. His black hair fell over his ears and back of his head. He had emerald eyes that practically gaze into ones soul. That was all quite weird and always made Nixion feel uneasy, no matter how different he pretended. He was a necromancer, an elemental, and a person who viewed anyone as a “bad guy” to be despised. Since Nixion used to be a ‘bad guy, it was safe to say that that he and Mist argued. A lot. An unnaturally unnerving amount, every time they met.
Next was Kali Nole. She was the oldest in the room, a full sixty-two years old, though, if you looked at her, she would only seem twenty-two. She had the odd adept ability to turn her hands into small weapons, anything she needed. Nixion had seen them become knifes, guns, and even a small bomb, which she had thrown at of group of sorcerers. Though they seemed to have a limit to the number of bullets, and bombs she could make. Knifes were by far the easiest to create, she had said once, and definitely her favourite. She had shoulder length gold hair, brown eyes, and had a good sense of humour.
After her was Thomas Phillips. He had the ability to bend metal with ease, as if it was tinfoil. The easiness ranged from the different types of metal, but he could bend, or brake, nearly metal he came in contact with. It had its uses, sure, but Nxion could never understand why Thomas hadn’t chosen an ability more…interesting. He was slightly younger, and shorter, than Nixion. He had blue eyes and blonde hair, and wore what a normal thirteen year old would. He was a good fighter. One of the best. Still, Nixion was confident he could beat him, kill him. It would only take a single touch.
 He banished the thoughts from his head and Nixion's eyes flickered to the last person in the room. At the end was Mahogany Reen. She was an old girl, to say the least. She loved to use magic in everyday life, but for some reason hated to use it in a fight unless faced with no other option. Nixion never understood that either. She seemed intrigued by people’s personalities, and was, by far, the kindest of everyone here.
“Why are you here?” he asked roughly not lowering the machete and looking at each of them. Mist grinned, Kali pretended to pout, Thomas rolled his eyes and Mahogany frowned at him.
“Trouble,” said Mist, still grinning. “And you’re not gonna like it.”


  1. it ok if you can add my blog banner to this blog? If you do I can add this blog to my blogroll too!

  2. Or you can just add my blog to your blogroll.

  3. Your editor needs firing. That thing is full of typos and spelling mistakes.

    Still good though.

  4. There are no spelling mistakes but I would assume that there are typos in there.

  5. All the typos are fixed. I have a habit of rushing and not checking to make sure I've written gloves instead of gloved or he instead of the. And by the way, things like "favourite" and "humour" will be spelled incorrectly for you, but right for me and Nix seeing as we Australian.

  6. There's one or two typos, still. Like the missing apostrophe, but that's the only flaw I can pick out - and I am looking incredibly closely at it!

    It's GREAT, guys! I love it! :')

    I also love the fact that Mist was smiling even with the machete up against his throat! Also, this:
    '“Trouble,” said Mist, still grinning. “And you’re not gonna like it.”'

    I LOVEEEEEE it! <3
    I read it ages ago, but I am re-reading it because I forgot about everyone's blogs because of reasons...

  7. OMFG. I only discovered this now, and may I just say, this is awesome. I'll have all of this read soonish, i think.. Yeah..

    Anyway, I really like it. And I hate both of you. Only because this is too awesome. But whatever.

  8. *frowns* I read "old girl" and all I see is "old"