Post by Tonker on May 15, 2018 23:10:16 GMT -6
Name: Tonker
Alias: Monster/Creaton/Mr.Tomoda your coffee is ready III
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Height: 6' 1"
Alias: Monster/Creaton/Mr.Tomoda your coffee is ready III
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Height: 6' 1"
History
When the head of Tomoda industries died, he was succeeded by his son. Up until that point, that son had never held the reins of power, and not an ounce of the world's finest training granted him the ability to manage the largest weapons manufacturing company and lead military contractor that the world and her government had ever known.
To cope with these stresses, the young man took to vice, ignoring the fact that his company's stock was steadily declining and that Tomoda industries had his last name in it for a reason. Drinking, drugging, and all debaucheries the world offered. Unfortunately, his dalliances produced for him exactly what his company needed to continue.
A replacement CEO.
A son was born to one of the many cheap women Kotoma Tomoda spent his nights with. Neither knew what to do, but whether out of anger, or the horror of a possible mistake taking what belonged to him, the unprepared father decided to end the problem before it began. The woman was found dead near the side of the road, her chest cavity cut open and any trace of a child gone; finally, he no longer had to fear!
A week later, after a long board meeting, the now carefree boss would take a sip from his mug, knowing that when he finally was ready for a son, he would have all the women in the world lining up to provide.
And as luck would have it, a woman did provide him with a son. After the SWAT team kicked down the door, South City Police Chief Sarah Delaw explained that Kotoma Tomoda was under arrest for attempted infanticide and murder in the first degree. The police had spotted the assassin as he had closed in on the woman, who had been stabbed twice. Fortunately, she was wheeled off to the delivery room to have the embryo removed and be placed into a preparatory womb developed on Vegeta, which had been prepared for pregnancies not planned for. (though it most likely wasn't ready to deal with a fetus that had survived an assassination.)
So the child was placed into a vat while his father was tried and sentenced to life in prison, causing his lawyer to kill himself and his father to go mad.
The child had been given a name unique to him, Tonker (his great grandfather's name, but adjusted to make it appear as 'the second') would remain for an extra two months inside the machine, and be placed into the care of his aunt and her husband. He would grow not knowing his parents, the history of his conception, and the method by which he was "saved" from death.
Until he found out.
When he reached the age of 16, his future looked brighter than his father, the father who came before him, and even the great grandfather who had founded the company out of his family's garage. (Beyond that nothing about their family was known, but for a story that had been mistranslated a handful of times to the point where it looked like an ancient legend, rather than an explanation to how their family had so quickly risen to riches on Earth and expanded beyond. They were only human, after all.) Yemma was definitely smiling down on the boy, making sure he got through all unharmed.
Confrontation was inevitable, unfortunately. The world is meant to twist and contort all in it, and to walk for so long without only a few cuts and bruises meant only one thing: it wasn't trying hard enough.
One night, all the questions that had been building within demanded an answer. Tonker decided that he would ask, no, demand them. Parents or no parents, he was entitled to know who they were. He was entitled to know why he was born. And more than anything else? He was entitled to hear it from their lips. But he couldn't do that since his father was in an asylum, and his mother had been hit by a car. So he would ask the people who had acted like parents to him all his life.
To his uncle, he would look angry and frustrated. To his aunt, he would look needy and pitiful. When he kept asking the same question, over and over and over without a single solid response, not a single answer as to if his mother's death was the real truth, if his father truly had gone insane, and why they had never given him any actual preparations to become the CEO once his uncle stepped down, he grew frustrated. But patience was something he had always relied upon, and he knew that no matter what, it would serve him.
He went through the next two years of highschool quickly, learning all that he could to make himself the best there could be. Living in Satan city left only one place to do it, so it was only natural that his alma mater would be Orange Star. Every single word that he heard stuck.
This gave little time to work with his body, leaving him in a precarious position. If he could find a way to strengthen his body without weakening his brain, he would find it. But being the heir to an interstellar corporation that sent Saiyans weapons, gave Earthlings tech, and even managed to wriggle out tiny pieces of information as to what the Arcosians were doing behind the backs of the collective cosmos was useful (a legacy he planned on continuing till the end of time) if a sale couldn't turn up zeni, it would give information instead. The Saiyans who didn't want scouters would comment on how their children wouldn't be needing them when they were older. The earthlings who didn't want weights would mention that their children didn't train at the Crane School to become lunks.
As for the tiny pieces of information that came from Arcose, the records were classified and had been since the Arcosians had found out that such things as moles existed. If Tomoda industries wanted any information at all, those getting it had to make sure that it would look as if the information was still safe. "What information?"
So Tonker built his body with the pen and paper as much as he did with the punch, the kick, and the ki. Even carrying milk around for a week, while looking odd to do on the streets of a city, was preferable to succumb to the urges of bookwormdom.
With the power of his mind and his body, he was ready to finally acquire the power of the soul.
Every night, he was reminded of what he desired most in the world. In the ache of not knowing his mother, in the ache of not knowing his father. In the anger that came when he began to think of how no one even bothered to tell him why.
Closure. He would get it. One way or another, he would get it...
6 years flew by like this, until finally, at the age of 22, disaster struck. While Tonker plowed through college, preparing to graduate with a masters in economics, across the galaxy, a partially salvaged message was returned to Earth, along with a partially living man.
If any word scared the people of Earth most, atop there list was "war." History books talked of the era that had ended 200 years prior. How the people of Earth were the only ones in the universe living in peace, while across the stars, planets were burning. People were dying by the millions at the hands of the Saiyans, and thousands more enslaved, tortured, and butchered for food. The Arcosians with there cold, calculating nature destroyed entire peoples and than sold the land they were buried on to the highest bidder. Even the mysterious Nameks had succumbed, but only for a moment. In the end, their ruler brought them universe the harmony that it desperately craved, and than sealed his people off from them forever.
All on Earth lived in a world of peace, prosperity, and believed that if they remained the way they were, it would last forever. The message that they had received seemed to state that that was a lie.
On arcose, things were changing. The message would've specified more, but the empire had done something to itself, not even an empire any more. A "world trade organization" was repeated over and over and over in the message, and that could only mean one thing.
In the last 200 years, the Arcosians had been getting rear out their ugly horns against the galaxy. War would come again.
It was for that reason that Tonker was called home for a weekend. "All in good nature" his uncle had written. "We just can't wait till the summer is all!" His aunt had added in. "I'M CRAMMING FOR SAT'S YOU SENILE SONS OF-" was what could be heard from his dorm the week before he left, along with another set of words that this document cannot provide.
When he got home, he forgot all about any standardized testing he needed to do. The reason?
He was being promoted to chief executive officer, as a unanimous agreement had been made by the board to give him the position early. His uncle had decided to step down, providing the explanation that he wouldn't be able to continue with the stresses that the company would be put under in the coming years.
Tonker, noticeably confused, was presented with the broken pieces of data that their mole had acquired from Arcosian space. Furthermore, he was told that they would be seeking the culprit, the information, and anyone who read it. He didn't even flinch when he finished reading. When the board members began asking their new CEO why he showed no signs of concern, he would simply look up and smile. When they began to nervously raise their voices, he would speak again.
"If the picture you've painted here is reality, than it won't even matter if they find who got this information. We'll all be dead, and the rest of the world is going to be lit on fire, it's people turned to ash, and her cities, farms, beaches, mountains prairies and even her VATS OF TOXIC WASTE will be sold for a collective bundle of 200 zeni."
The room would grow quiet, and Tonker would stand up. "When Zuccetta destroyed Arcose, killed its emperor, and than planted a tree in the ground to suck the life out of every living thing on the planet, do you think the survivors of Arcose were thinking about Earth? Of course they weren't. Because even though the changelings can turn into giant monsters, bodybuilders, or midgets, you wanna know what doesn't change? The one doing the changing. That's why when they lose they stay pompous manchildren." he'd quip at the end, prompting a few laughs. "If the Arcosians were thinking about revenge, which they have been since the time of Lord Frisbee and kakacabbage," He'd continue, pulling the laughs out of anyone who hadn't already squealed, "than they're going to be focusing entirely on 'grinding whoever's on Vegeta's throne to space dust.'"
The tension was gone, and the room had settled. Satisfied, Tonker would sit back down in his chair, a smirk on his face. "So what will we do, you'll ask me, to which I'll ask you, what have we done with any information we've gotten from the Arcosians in the past?" He'd reply to himself, eyeing the room. They stared blankly at him. At that, he would lean forward in the chair, and reply, "What information?"
No assassins or diplomats or declarations of war came, but the activity behind the border was clearly growing. On Earth, however, the young CEO was doing well. Stock was up by 10% and sales were booming. It seemed to be that the planets of the universe were just as aware of the rising tension as their businesses were, and were already preparing for the inevitable spark that would ignite the flames of war.
But for Tonker... things had changed.
It had been on his 23rd birthday when he decided to figure out where his father had been kept. He boarded a plane, and by 11 pm the next night, he was at the South City maximum security prison.
He knew his father most likely wasn't expecting visitors, but he decided that it was finally time to clear things up. Walking in, he would state his intentions flatly. He was told he'd have to wait for around 2 hours.
By the time dawn broke, he was still wide awake.
"What's taking so long?" Tonker would snap at the guard, but quickly shake his head. "Sorry, I've been up for to long. Just tell me why he isn't here yet." He would apologize, but press again. The guard would frown, before shaking his head in response. "I'm sorry sir. He didn't want to see you."
Tonker would grimace, gritting his teeth. "Bring me to him."
The CEO would frown as he walked down the dimly lit hallways, but his eyes would soon widen as he entered the central catwalk. All around him, hundreds of feet down and several floors above, were cells. But his shock would diminish as he would focus again, reminding himself of why he was here.
Finally, he would stand outside a cell, looking in. Inside was a ragged man, in his made to late 40's. He shared a striking resemblance to his own self, and he was well built aswell. What set them apart were their faces. Tonker's hair was a golden blonde, almost stretching down to his shoulders in some places, while his fathers was a darkened brown, almost jet black. Tonker's eyes were auburn, almost crimson, while his father's were dark as coal.
But when the man in the cell looked up, his eyes would widen, and than he'd recoil, throwing himself back against the wall. At this, Tonker would step forward. "Do you know who I am, Kotoma? Please, let me talk to you. I'm your-"
"I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!" Shouted the man, swiping his arm forward. "I know EXACTLY who you are! I recognize that hair, and those eyes, those evil fucking eyes... you've come here for revenge, haven't you? When I saw you in court that day I should've finished the JOB!" His father would shout, suddenly throwing himself against the bars.
Tonker would fall back, hitting the railing behind him. If not for the guards rushing to help him balance, he would've gone careening over the side. Regaining his composure, he would look at his father, confused... and scared. "I don't understand. Uncle Totmoka said you had a mental breakdown after mom died in childbirth. What are you talking about?" He'd ask. At that, his father would sneer, but suddenly laugh. "Oh, that's what he told you, did he? I bet he told you that I loved you so much to, and that your mother was so happy to have you. Well, let me tell you. The look of terror on her face when she told me she was carrying you still haunts my dreams." He'd say, before letting out a sudden high pitched laugh. "And death in childbirth? They weren't even trying, were they?"
Suddenly, a horrifying thought ran through Tonker's brain. A thought so terrifyingly disgusting that he almost threw up than and there. "Well, neither of us wanted it, and I didn't want to be stuck married to a whore, so I-"
Suddenly, his hand would shoot out, and quickly pinc the older man's neck. The guards would rush forward, but Tonker would quickly squeeze, pulling him up, but than suddenly dropping him. His father would fall to the ground, suddenly coughing up blood, but this didn't stop Tonker. "WHAT DID YOU DO? WHAT DID YOU DO YOU UNHOLY SON OF AN ARCOSIAN COW, WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
He knew, in the back of his mind when his entire father's reply was a sly smirk as to what had happened. He knew that in the silence, he had tried to correct what he had perceived as a mistake.
He'd turn around, hands trembling on the bars... and leaving an imprint. The strength went unnoticed, as it should. To warriors of ki or galactic legends of old, he probably couldn't measure up to even a speck. But if he could crush a bar, he knew he could crush a neck.
"Show him," he would hear in the back of his mind, while sipping from a glass of wine to calm himself down. "Show him how strong his little mistake has grown."
It was that thought that put Kotoma Tomoda in the ground two weeks later, and what had driven it into the ground was a gloved fist. Black, rubber, attached to a man clad in a suit made of black, grey mesh, and with plating of midnight violet. It was the energy that flowed from his hands that smashed through the walls of his cell, pulled apart the bars, and the man caged in pressed to the back of the wall in terror. For all he saw was a plated mask, blocking even the eyes of the man behind it.
The news the next morning called the ki armed killer "The Mask of the Hyacinthe death." The first Ki related homicide in over 200 years had been committed, and news of it spread across the planet. The motivation was unknown, but the ripples were astonishing. The underlying fear had only grown, and with the arrival of Saiyan refugees, open war, and galactic chaos... many people were buying weapons. Many people were training themselves to protect the planet they loved. Many got on ships and high tailed it off earth, for they thought it was next to fall.
And that's why when Tonker found himself alone in his room the next morning, curled up in a ball on the floor, he suddenly began to wonder if the Mask of the Hyacinthe death should make a return. That little voice in his mind repeated to him, "Show them. Show them all how powerful that mistake has become."
To cope with these stresses, the young man took to vice, ignoring the fact that his company's stock was steadily declining and that Tomoda industries had his last name in it for a reason. Drinking, drugging, and all debaucheries the world offered. Unfortunately, his dalliances produced for him exactly what his company needed to continue.
A replacement CEO.
A son was born to one of the many cheap women Kotoma Tomoda spent his nights with. Neither knew what to do, but whether out of anger, or the horror of a possible mistake taking what belonged to him, the unprepared father decided to end the problem before it began. The woman was found dead near the side of the road, her chest cavity cut open and any trace of a child gone; finally, he no longer had to fear!
A week later, after a long board meeting, the now carefree boss would take a sip from his mug, knowing that when he finally was ready for a son, he would have all the women in the world lining up to provide.
And as luck would have it, a woman did provide him with a son. After the SWAT team kicked down the door, South City Police Chief Sarah Delaw explained that Kotoma Tomoda was under arrest for attempted infanticide and murder in the first degree. The police had spotted the assassin as he had closed in on the woman, who had been stabbed twice. Fortunately, she was wheeled off to the delivery room to have the embryo removed and be placed into a preparatory womb developed on Vegeta, which had been prepared for pregnancies not planned for. (though it most likely wasn't ready to deal with a fetus that had survived an assassination.)
So the child was placed into a vat while his father was tried and sentenced to life in prison, causing his lawyer to kill himself and his father to go mad.
The child had been given a name unique to him, Tonker (his great grandfather's name, but adjusted to make it appear as 'the second') would remain for an extra two months inside the machine, and be placed into the care of his aunt and her husband. He would grow not knowing his parents, the history of his conception, and the method by which he was "saved" from death.
Until he found out.
When he reached the age of 16, his future looked brighter than his father, the father who came before him, and even the great grandfather who had founded the company out of his family's garage. (Beyond that nothing about their family was known, but for a story that had been mistranslated a handful of times to the point where it looked like an ancient legend, rather than an explanation to how their family had so quickly risen to riches on Earth and expanded beyond. They were only human, after all.) Yemma was definitely smiling down on the boy, making sure he got through all unharmed.
Confrontation was inevitable, unfortunately. The world is meant to twist and contort all in it, and to walk for so long without only a few cuts and bruises meant only one thing: it wasn't trying hard enough.
One night, all the questions that had been building within demanded an answer. Tonker decided that he would ask, no, demand them. Parents or no parents, he was entitled to know who they were. He was entitled to know why he was born. And more than anything else? He was entitled to hear it from their lips. But he couldn't do that since his father was in an asylum, and his mother had been hit by a car. So he would ask the people who had acted like parents to him all his life.
To his uncle, he would look angry and frustrated. To his aunt, he would look needy and pitiful. When he kept asking the same question, over and over and over without a single solid response, not a single answer as to if his mother's death was the real truth, if his father truly had gone insane, and why they had never given him any actual preparations to become the CEO once his uncle stepped down, he grew frustrated. But patience was something he had always relied upon, and he knew that no matter what, it would serve him.
He went through the next two years of highschool quickly, learning all that he could to make himself the best there could be. Living in Satan city left only one place to do it, so it was only natural that his alma mater would be Orange Star. Every single word that he heard stuck.
This gave little time to work with his body, leaving him in a precarious position. If he could find a way to strengthen his body without weakening his brain, he would find it. But being the heir to an interstellar corporation that sent Saiyans weapons, gave Earthlings tech, and even managed to wriggle out tiny pieces of information as to what the Arcosians were doing behind the backs of the collective cosmos was useful (a legacy he planned on continuing till the end of time) if a sale couldn't turn up zeni, it would give information instead. The Saiyans who didn't want scouters would comment on how their children wouldn't be needing them when they were older. The earthlings who didn't want weights would mention that their children didn't train at the Crane School to become lunks.
As for the tiny pieces of information that came from Arcose, the records were classified and had been since the Arcosians had found out that such things as moles existed. If Tomoda industries wanted any information at all, those getting it had to make sure that it would look as if the information was still safe. "What information?"
So Tonker built his body with the pen and paper as much as he did with the punch, the kick, and the ki. Even carrying milk around for a week, while looking odd to do on the streets of a city, was preferable to succumb to the urges of bookwormdom.
With the power of his mind and his body, he was ready to finally acquire the power of the soul.
Every night, he was reminded of what he desired most in the world. In the ache of not knowing his mother, in the ache of not knowing his father. In the anger that came when he began to think of how no one even bothered to tell him why.
Closure. He would get it. One way or another, he would get it...
6 years flew by like this, until finally, at the age of 22, disaster struck. While Tonker plowed through college, preparing to graduate with a masters in economics, across the galaxy, a partially salvaged message was returned to Earth, along with a partially living man.
If any word scared the people of Earth most, atop there list was "war." History books talked of the era that had ended 200 years prior. How the people of Earth were the only ones in the universe living in peace, while across the stars, planets were burning. People were dying by the millions at the hands of the Saiyans, and thousands more enslaved, tortured, and butchered for food. The Arcosians with there cold, calculating nature destroyed entire peoples and than sold the land they were buried on to the highest bidder. Even the mysterious Nameks had succumbed, but only for a moment. In the end, their ruler brought them universe the harmony that it desperately craved, and than sealed his people off from them forever.
All on Earth lived in a world of peace, prosperity, and believed that if they remained the way they were, it would last forever. The message that they had received seemed to state that that was a lie.
On arcose, things were changing. The message would've specified more, but the empire had done something to itself, not even an empire any more. A "world trade organization" was repeated over and over and over in the message, and that could only mean one thing.
In the last 200 years, the Arcosians had been getting rear out their ugly horns against the galaxy. War would come again.
It was for that reason that Tonker was called home for a weekend. "All in good nature" his uncle had written. "We just can't wait till the summer is all!" His aunt had added in. "I'M CRAMMING FOR SAT'S YOU SENILE SONS OF-" was what could be heard from his dorm the week before he left, along with another set of words that this document cannot provide.
When he got home, he forgot all about any standardized testing he needed to do. The reason?
He was being promoted to chief executive officer, as a unanimous agreement had been made by the board to give him the position early. His uncle had decided to step down, providing the explanation that he wouldn't be able to continue with the stresses that the company would be put under in the coming years.
Tonker, noticeably confused, was presented with the broken pieces of data that their mole had acquired from Arcosian space. Furthermore, he was told that they would be seeking the culprit, the information, and anyone who read it. He didn't even flinch when he finished reading. When the board members began asking their new CEO why he showed no signs of concern, he would simply look up and smile. When they began to nervously raise their voices, he would speak again.
"If the picture you've painted here is reality, than it won't even matter if they find who got this information. We'll all be dead, and the rest of the world is going to be lit on fire, it's people turned to ash, and her cities, farms, beaches, mountains prairies and even her VATS OF TOXIC WASTE will be sold for a collective bundle of 200 zeni."
The room would grow quiet, and Tonker would stand up. "When Zuccetta destroyed Arcose, killed its emperor, and than planted a tree in the ground to suck the life out of every living thing on the planet, do you think the survivors of Arcose were thinking about Earth? Of course they weren't. Because even though the changelings can turn into giant monsters, bodybuilders, or midgets, you wanna know what doesn't change? The one doing the changing. That's why when they lose they stay pompous manchildren." he'd quip at the end, prompting a few laughs. "If the Arcosians were thinking about revenge, which they have been since the time of Lord Frisbee and kakacabbage," He'd continue, pulling the laughs out of anyone who hadn't already squealed, "than they're going to be focusing entirely on 'grinding whoever's on Vegeta's throne to space dust.'"
The tension was gone, and the room had settled. Satisfied, Tonker would sit back down in his chair, a smirk on his face. "So what will we do, you'll ask me, to which I'll ask you, what have we done with any information we've gotten from the Arcosians in the past?" He'd reply to himself, eyeing the room. They stared blankly at him. At that, he would lean forward in the chair, and reply, "What information?"
No assassins or diplomats or declarations of war came, but the activity behind the border was clearly growing. On Earth, however, the young CEO was doing well. Stock was up by 10% and sales were booming. It seemed to be that the planets of the universe were just as aware of the rising tension as their businesses were, and were already preparing for the inevitable spark that would ignite the flames of war.
But for Tonker... things had changed.
It had been on his 23rd birthday when he decided to figure out where his father had been kept. He boarded a plane, and by 11 pm the next night, he was at the South City maximum security prison.
He knew his father most likely wasn't expecting visitors, but he decided that it was finally time to clear things up. Walking in, he would state his intentions flatly. He was told he'd have to wait for around 2 hours.
By the time dawn broke, he was still wide awake.
"What's taking so long?" Tonker would snap at the guard, but quickly shake his head. "Sorry, I've been up for to long. Just tell me why he isn't here yet." He would apologize, but press again. The guard would frown, before shaking his head in response. "I'm sorry sir. He didn't want to see you."
Tonker would grimace, gritting his teeth. "Bring me to him."
The CEO would frown as he walked down the dimly lit hallways, but his eyes would soon widen as he entered the central catwalk. All around him, hundreds of feet down and several floors above, were cells. But his shock would diminish as he would focus again, reminding himself of why he was here.
Finally, he would stand outside a cell, looking in. Inside was a ragged man, in his made to late 40's. He shared a striking resemblance to his own self, and he was well built aswell. What set them apart were their faces. Tonker's hair was a golden blonde, almost stretching down to his shoulders in some places, while his fathers was a darkened brown, almost jet black. Tonker's eyes were auburn, almost crimson, while his father's were dark as coal.
But when the man in the cell looked up, his eyes would widen, and than he'd recoil, throwing himself back against the wall. At this, Tonker would step forward. "Do you know who I am, Kotoma? Please, let me talk to you. I'm your-"
"I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!" Shouted the man, swiping his arm forward. "I know EXACTLY who you are! I recognize that hair, and those eyes, those evil fucking eyes... you've come here for revenge, haven't you? When I saw you in court that day I should've finished the JOB!" His father would shout, suddenly throwing himself against the bars.
Tonker would fall back, hitting the railing behind him. If not for the guards rushing to help him balance, he would've gone careening over the side. Regaining his composure, he would look at his father, confused... and scared. "I don't understand. Uncle Totmoka said you had a mental breakdown after mom died in childbirth. What are you talking about?" He'd ask. At that, his father would sneer, but suddenly laugh. "Oh, that's what he told you, did he? I bet he told you that I loved you so much to, and that your mother was so happy to have you. Well, let me tell you. The look of terror on her face when she told me she was carrying you still haunts my dreams." He'd say, before letting out a sudden high pitched laugh. "And death in childbirth? They weren't even trying, were they?"
Suddenly, a horrifying thought ran through Tonker's brain. A thought so terrifyingly disgusting that he almost threw up than and there. "Well, neither of us wanted it, and I didn't want to be stuck married to a whore, so I-"
Suddenly, his hand would shoot out, and quickly pinc the older man's neck. The guards would rush forward, but Tonker would quickly squeeze, pulling him up, but than suddenly dropping him. His father would fall to the ground, suddenly coughing up blood, but this didn't stop Tonker. "WHAT DID YOU DO? WHAT DID YOU DO YOU UNHOLY SON OF AN ARCOSIAN COW, WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
He knew, in the back of his mind when his entire father's reply was a sly smirk as to what had happened. He knew that in the silence, he had tried to correct what he had perceived as a mistake.
He'd turn around, hands trembling on the bars... and leaving an imprint. The strength went unnoticed, as it should. To warriors of ki or galactic legends of old, he probably couldn't measure up to even a speck. But if he could crush a bar, he knew he could crush a neck.
"Show him," he would hear in the back of his mind, while sipping from a glass of wine to calm himself down. "Show him how strong his little mistake has grown."
It was that thought that put Kotoma Tomoda in the ground two weeks later, and what had driven it into the ground was a gloved fist. Black, rubber, attached to a man clad in a suit made of black, grey mesh, and with plating of midnight violet. It was the energy that flowed from his hands that smashed through the walls of his cell, pulled apart the bars, and the man caged in pressed to the back of the wall in terror. For all he saw was a plated mask, blocking even the eyes of the man behind it.
The news the next morning called the ki armed killer "The Mask of the Hyacinthe death." The first Ki related homicide in over 200 years had been committed, and news of it spread across the planet. The motivation was unknown, but the ripples were astonishing. The underlying fear had only grown, and with the arrival of Saiyan refugees, open war, and galactic chaos... many people were buying weapons. Many people were training themselves to protect the planet they loved. Many got on ships and high tailed it off earth, for they thought it was next to fall.
And that's why when Tonker found himself alone in his room the next morning, curled up in a ball on the floor, he suddenly began to wonder if the Mask of the Hyacinthe death should make a return. That little voice in his mind repeated to him, "Show them. Show them all how powerful that mistake has become."
Techniques
but the
Offense:
[N1] Hyacinthe strike- an attack of low magnitude but dangerous if underestimated, the hand foot and even weapon can be infused with basic ki energy to damage an unsuspecting opponent.
Defensive:
[N1] Hyacinthe wall- concentrated energy, the same as with the strike. An outraged pedestrian who decided to strike would think twice after an attack, because their target wouldn't flinch.
Utility:
[UT1] Multiform- creating multiple, equally weaker copies of himself, Tonker's strength is decreased, but his presence becomes ever more... intrusive.
but the
Offense:
[N1] Hyacinthe strike- an attack of low magnitude but dangerous if underestimated, the hand foot and even weapon can be infused with basic ki energy to damage an unsuspecting opponent.
Defensive:
[N1] Hyacinthe wall- concentrated energy, the same as with the strike. An outraged pedestrian who decided to strike would think twice after an attack, because their target wouldn't flinch.
Utility:
[UT1] Multiform- creating multiple, equally weaker copies of himself, Tonker's strength is decreased, but his presence becomes ever more... intrusive.
