#onisoldier

There had to be better ways to relieve stress than this. No, in fact, Wocky Kitaki knew there were better ways, but he simply didn't care for them. There was no point in abiding to what someone else thought would be good for him if in the end it did absolutely nothing for him. He was already wholly aware of the therapeutic effects beating the shit out of private property, and thus, he was more than ready for some therapy.

At home, he could just head down to the private training rooms and punch around the dummies and punching bags, but really, what was the fun in that? Where was the thrill? Wasn't it way funner to destroy something that belonged to someone else and try to get away before anyone caught you? That was the part of the therapy, after all! Not to mention how absolutely gangster it was, yep.

So here you had one Wocky Kitaki, out after dark, near a back part of the school, baseball bat in tow. Totally not his weapon of choice, but he wasn't about to break his knuckles just because he wanted to break some shit. A wild grin was plastered on his face, slight chuckles escaping as he allowed pent up anger and frustration to flow from his body as the bat connected with trashcans, boxes, and others things littering the area he was in.