Tramp

By spongecake2

I've had a terrible idea whic I'm sure I'll regret. I'll write a story from Paul's POV and see where it goes. It's weird. Paul's one of my favourite Tekken characters yet I haven't really done that much based on him... not surprising, really. He has all the personality of a gnat, other than the whole "I PWN LOL XD" thing. It's actually been yonks since I played a Tekken game, so this is bound to be shit... like everything I do. It's solely to practise fight scenes. I didn't quite think it would be multi-chaptered, but I eventually decided it should be. There aren't a lot of multi-chaptered Paul fics out there. Read and review anyway.

The alarm burst into life, forcing me to pull my way out of my comatose. I looked to the clock. Eight sixteen. I decided to start the day with.... a nap.

It was about four hours before I woke up again. The light poured into my flat, showing the scattered bits of rubbish everywhere. The yellow dawn bled through the lightly coloured curtains, creating a golden shroud upon all things to see. First thing I thought of. Fridge. I walked over to it. The fridge's door fell off. Last thing I expected to happen. Though I expected it that if it did fall, it would land on my foot, and cause a great deal of pain.

Oh, not even bad things fail to disappoint me.

The clang clash of the door smashing to the floor was very little to the noise I caused with my painful screams, which was followed by the louder complaints of people downstairs. I slowly pulled myself back up, ate... whatever it was, it wasn't good enough to remember. Then I proceeded to the hallway. I decided to simply make comments at other fighters. They sneered, but they had it easy compared to me. At least they weren't tramps scraping for food.

Oh, shit, it's Bryan. I thought, looking at the psycho leaning against the wall, punching any passers-by. I gulped and tried to sneak past before he noticed.

"Good morning, Master Phoenix. And isn't it a beautiful morning?" He said, imitating charm perfectly and tipping his baseball cap. I turned to him.

"Pardon?" I asked the psycho. I did think he had completely lost it... again.

"Just commenting upon the fine weather, my good sir." Bryan said, his voice chipper and fresh. "Would you like to observe it better?" He said, grabbing my collar.

"NO, BRYAN, YOU BASTARD!" I shouted. Too late. Flung through the window, I was. The pain jolted through my body as I hit the hard floor. I could only thank myself he was on the first storey, though it still hurt like hell. I rolled over to see a mop of blonde hair. Steve Fox raised his head.

"Bryan?" He asked. I nodded. "He's done that four times today."

"He carries on that way, he might as well go to the last round. He'll have crippled everyone." I replied. Steve nodded in chorus. I pushed myself up. I looked to Steve.

"You getting up?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"Can't." He said. "Bryan broke my leg."

"Oh, right, ok then." I said, walking away. Steve looked worried.

"Errrmmm... help?" He asked. I didn't 'notice'...

Anyway, I decided it would be best to go for a walk. Get my back back into... wait... get my spine back into shape. As I slowly wandered my way across the patio of the garden, people pointed and muttered.

"Tramp."

"Hobo."

"Piece of junk."

Well, I certainly dealt with them using my fists, but it made me think about why people generally tended to hate me. Sure, I'm not the nicest person in the world, but still... not many people are very nice. They weren't. For example, look at that Korean prick... What's his name again? Hoo-ran? Ho-ah-ang? Boomerang? Whatever, he's still a complete bastard, and look at him. Girls literally fall at his feet at the drop of a hat, and everyone who knows him treats him to respect...

... I suppose you don't give respect to a tramp.

Of course, people would say that, but what's the Korean? Homeless, smelly, nasty... sounds a lot like my position. I remember saying this to that Arizona girl. Shit, I regretted that. No, no. He's got good reason to be. He lost his parents, at the bottom of the social ladder, nowhere to go at night whine whine whine help forests whine whine my love of trees is bordering on a fetish...

That's no reason to be a complete arsehole. Nobody asks about my parents, if I had any. At least Whore-wang knew his parents for a few years, and he has somewhere to go. A girl's bed, mostly, but more than I get. As for the social ladder thing, it doesn't get higher than an Iron Fist fighter...

... or lower than a tramp.

It was then I realised I didn't actually know where the hell I was. Well, they could put up one flimsy sign. Nope, that would be too helpful for me to cope with.

"This is just great." I said while biting my lip, which I found to be very difficult. I decided to use my time well.

I scratched my balls for most of that hour.

I turned around to see a large tree. I smiled. At least there was something to let my frustration out on. "Die, pointless obstacle!" I shouted, smashing my right fist into the tree. Down it came. "Aren't I awesome?" I shouted to myself more than anyone else. Then something heavy landed on me. The shock more than the weight was the thing that caused me to collapse. The grit dug into my hand as I broke the fall.

"Watch where you're falling!" I shouted to the lump. I recognised the touch of skin, and knew it was human. The person got off me. A snarling, Oriental girl, her auburn hair flowing through the wind, looking up to me despite being... what, half my size? Maybe a bit more. She shouted at me in Japanese, or in Double Dutch, or whatever it was. All I could tell was it was very angry.

"What?" I asked her, politely, mind you. She didn't account for the fact that we spoke entirely different languages and just carried on with her ranting and raving. After what seemed an hour, she finally finished. She looked expectant. She then sighed.

"English?" She asked, though the accent sounded very stupid.

"American, but yeah." I said, then realised it didn't make sense. She sighed, saying more Japanese to herself. I guessed it was swearing, but for all I knew, she may have been commenting on how sexy I was...

... ok, probably not. But anyway, that's irrelevant. Her stupid accent and awful English brought me back to reality.

"Do you always... smash every tree you look?" She said. I shook my head.

"It's 'see'. Look is to tell somebody to notice something. See is the verb as itself." I explained. However, my intellect didn't aid the girl's temper. She slipped into her fighting stance smoothly. I sighed. "No." I said, turning away. "I don't fight girls. It'd look too kinky." I started to walk away, then a grab on my throat.

"I like kinky." The girl growled, before throwing me over her back. Ooh, that hurt a lot. I got up as fast as I could.

"Let's get it on!" I shouted, before sending my fist towards her. I thought she was just some bird watcher who happened to have anger issues. I clearly was mistaken. My fist went swirling past her head, as she stepped to the side and smashed her fist into my rib cage. This girl knew her stuff. I sent my left foot into her shin, and she buckled.

Now I have her. Follow it up. Elbow. Left. Right. I looked to the girl splayed across the floor.

"Yeah, I rock." I thought to myself. As I turned away to go on my way, I felt the cold feeling of mud on the back of my neck. I looked to the girl. "Now look here..." I started as another pelt of mud sent its way into my face. I wiped it off to see the girl rearm herself with another globule of mud from a large pile. Then I thought to myself. Piles of mud don't happen in nature. I sniffed the brown stuff on my hand. It was rank with the odour of...

...horse shit.

I managed to evade the next glob of the murky mixture as it wheeled past my head. I smiled as it was flung across the clearing and into some unsuspecting squirrel. I turned back to be tackled by the girl. She didn't take me to the ground, though it took my footing away, and my feet scraped across the floor as they found the grip they needed to remain upright. I brought my fist down on her back.

"AH!" She screamed in a horrible pain and as I pushed her back into the pile of manure. She pulled herself up while sending hideous globule after globule. Miss, miss, hit, hit, hit, miss, hit. She brought her body weight into me again, and this time I didn't maintain my footing. Her incoherent Japanese curses were accompanied by her red fists, which brought themselves onto my face. I popped my body up and slipped my leg under hers. And... over we go! Her face was sent through the air and into the pile of crap.

"STOP!" She begged as I brought my own fists onto her now trapped head. She gave me no mercy, I insisted on returning the favour. Then I felt a horrible pain in my crotch. She kneed me in the genitals. Ok, I can fight dirty, but I have restraints. That crosses a line. I stood up in pain, and used my time to observe my adversary as she pulled herself up. Her face bruised, her hair messed, and everything was muddy. I looked at myself in the reflection of her eyes. I was no better. Covered in blood and crap. This stuff got everywhere, it seemed.

I'll need a shower. I thought to myself. Then I looked back to the girl. She brought yet another fist towards me, but I trapped the attack, and flipped her across my body. She tried to get up once more, but finally gave in. I smiled, walking away with yet another victory. The tournament hasn't even started, and I'm on a roll already. Whoever's running the Zaibatsu now... he won't have a chance.

I tried not to regret beating her up. She started it. Simple laws of thermodynamics. Hit somebody, they'll hit back. People tell me thermodynamics is a lot more to do with heat energy being converted into other forms of energy and a lot less to do with fighting, but I get very bored very quickly when it comes to science. However, things like that didn't just go away. I'd probably end up feeling guilty for weeks. I delved deeper and deeper into the forest. It was clearly the wrong way, but at least I was going somewhere, which is a lot better than nowhere.

I finally found the edge of the forest. The sight was as uplifting as an oasis to a stranded traveller within the savannah. I looked around. The view was awe inspiring. The hilly plains of Honshu stretched out for miles, the sun gleaming off the rolling grass as the wind blew its impatient way through the spindly vegetation, causing ripples crossing the land. Nobody for miles...

A good place to take a leak.

I walked over to a nearby tree. My hand reached for my fly when, of all things, a pencil hit the top of my head. I looked up. Somebody was on the highest branch, and had dropped their pencil. I picked the wooden spike up and threw it skywards. I turned around and decided to find another place to pee when a thud followed by a flurry of paper sounded behind me. I turned and looked at the sprawled mess. I couldn't recognise the figure, but the very little amount of clothes gave me a good guess.

"Christie? Does everybody seem to hang around up trees today?" I asked myself. The Brazilian turned to me, scowling very harshly.

"You idiot, Paul!" She seethed. "That pencil snapped the branch I was sitting on." I looked up to the branch. It was very thick. Something told me something must have snapped it good.

"Must've been a good throw." I commented. "Have you put on weight?" I asked her. She didn't like that a great deal, by the sounds of it. She picked up a batch of crayons and threw them all at me. Clearly I wasn't that good at avoiding fights. I slipped into my fighting stance. "Not again." I muttered.

Yeah, I don't quite know where this is all going... somewhere, I hope. Also, for those who've read Stockholm Syndrome, I've finally got those pictures of Liz and Fritz up on the internet, with links in my profile. Though Benni didn't come out well at all, so I'll get him up later. Frankly, though, I'm not particularly bothered about drawing the others. I just can't get them at all. So, homework... draw your pictures of Mr Drive, Takeshi and Bill, and send me links. I'm too lazy to do the others. Oh, and also, to those who read my first fic, Exodus, I've got a drawing of Morris up too, because I did (god, when did I write that pile of jargon?)