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Description
HE'S BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!!!!

CUE THA MUSIC!!

C'mon Peter! Your boy Tukson just shook off a bullet to the god damned face! You really think your bush league DBZ attack was gonna take him out?

We got us a fight on our hands!

I know it's been several thousand years since I've updated this, so here's the previous page, Click it!

Tukson laid sprawled out on his back in the rear office of his shop, a burning, searing pain covering his chest. This had not been a great day to be him.

He weakly lifted his head off the floor to stare back at the still swinging double doors in front of him, he could still feel the electricity in the air from Peter's attack. It'd been a long time since Tukson'd been in a fight, he was out of shape to say the least... A part of him wanted to just give up here and now. He'd been fighting for so long, he thought that his past was securely behind him. He'd tried to live a peaceful life, and what that had got him? Was fighting anymore really worth it? What did he have left to lose?

He let out a groan as his head fell back to the ground, closing his eyes. He was just so damn tired. He could here Peter taunting him from beyond the doors. Tukson let out a bitter chuckle at the fact that apparently laying here and pretending to be dead was out of the question.

He begrudgingly opened his eyes, when something caught his attention behind a nearby bookcase. It's been years since he even held that weapon, "Out of sight, out of mind" was his thinking putting it back there. Only by chance had it slipped out of cover and was now staring at him, seeming to say "You're not giving up that easily, are ya? I thought I taught you better than that, boy."

So Tukson slowly rose to his feet, dragging his quickly healing body over to the taunting object. As he grabbed it, the familiarity of it's weight, not to mention the way it seemed to respond to his specific aura, it felt... good. Like an old friend was welcoming him back home. He let his finger roam over the trigger on the handle before he gave it a satisfying press. The back room was immediately filled with with an orange light as the dust crystal in the tip of the weapon sprang to life. Unnaturally bright flames igniting the blade, and Tukson's spirit.

So no, he wasn't giving up. Not today. After all... He had a promise to keep.

Description
HE'S BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!!!!

CUE THA MUSIC!!

C'mon Peter! Your boy Tukson just shook off a bullet to the god damned face! You really think your bush league DBZ attack was gonna take him out?

We got us a fight on our hands!

I know it's been several thousand years since I've updated this, so here's the previous page, Click it!

Tukson laid sprawled out on his back in the rear office of his shop, a burning, searing pain covering his chest. This had not been a great day to be him.

He weakly lifted his head off the floor to stare back at the still swinging double doors in front of him, he could still feel the electricity in the air from Peter's attack. It'd been a long time since Tukson'd been in a fight, he was out of shape to say the least... A part of him wanted to just give up here and now. He'd been fighting for so long, he thought that his past was securely behind him. He'd tried to live a peaceful life, and what that had got him? Was fighting anymore really worth it? What did he have left to lose?

He let out a groan as his head fell back to the ground, closing his eyes. He was just so damn tired. He could here Peter taunting him from beyond the doors. Tukson let out a bitter chuckle at the fact that apparently laying here and pretending to be dead was out of the question.

He begrudgingly opened his eyes, when something caught his attention behind a nearby bookcase. It's been years since he even held that weapon, "Out of sight, out of mind" was his thinking putting it back there. Only by chance had it slipped out of cover and was now staring at him, seeming to say "You're not giving up that easily, are ya? I thought I taught you better than that, boy."

So Tukson slowly rose to his feet, dragging his quickly healing body over to the taunting object. As he grabbed it, the familiarity of it's weight, not to mention the way it seemed to respond to his specific aura, it felt... good. Like an old friend was welcoming him back home. He let his finger roam over the trigger on the handle before he gave it a satisfying press. The back room was immediately filled with with an orange light as the dust crystal in the tip of the weapon sprang to life. Unnaturally bright flames igniting the blade, and Tukson's spirit.

So no, he wasn't giving up. Not today. After all... He had a promise to keep.