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Post by Kalaboo on Jan 18, 2019 15:40:04 GMT -6
Masque was not given to thinking about things at length - or at all - but Bozo’s sudden disappearance was beginning to worry him quite a bit, he couldn’t help but to wonder if he had somehow wronged the egomaniacal ratling - had the mask acted selfishly when it ditched the half-smirking half-glowering feline shtick? His comrades tried their best to put the possessed saiyan at ease, but they could barely keep up with the torrent of archaic belches and in turn Masque struggled to make sense of their chitters and chirps, so he began to chitter and chirp in return. After one too many malpurposed chitters and absolutely obscene chirps - all of them made in pure, child-like ignorance - Masque was gently kicked out of the tent (the cretin was at the end of the day not nearly as stupid as he was powerful, nobody in Big Camp was crazy enough to take him on) and given vague directions to somewhere very far...
The soldier made quite a spectacle parading in sunny South City, bearing the Fleet’s somber colors. Earth’s tropics were chock-full of pure and hybridized saiyans, South City was no different, the people there had no love for the Fleet, and a very wise distrust of any saiyan serving under it. The tension around him was palpable, soon enough Masque found himself hurrying at a half-strut, carefully pushing through the mob, as simply flying away would put him at risk of being hit by a superspeeding flying car, the explosion and rain of metal and fuel killing countless and setting half the city alight! Perhaps he was getting too nervous, he could deal with a glowering officer, but an entire mob? He dropped any semblance of cold bravado and absconded to the nearest establishment, a seedy little gym littered with funny-looking afroed figurines. In a hurry for something or somewhere to hide inside Masque walked up to the counter and slammed his hand on the cheap plywood. “Lynch me not, lynch me not! Skin of mine, pity! Pity and aid!” From under the countertop an old man appeared. He had a bulging upturned nose, a single tuft of hair, and eyes heavy from many a sleepless night spent training his youth away just in case some weirdo came barging into his family’s gym. Masque certainly looked the part of a weirdo, but more jarring than the raving lunatic was the restless mob following him. The owner put two and two together and came to the conclusion that they wanted someone to take care of the masked guy, permanently. Emboldened by the audience, old man sighed, pushed aside the cash register and hopped over the countertop. Masque watched silently as a toothless grin twisted the elder’s whiskered lips, either not noticing or plainly ignoring the punch aimed at his throat. The old man’s grin vanished once he realized that the saiyan didn’t as much as flinch… and that even for a fellow saiyan he was extremely tall, and superbly muscular, and very, very, scary. Overwhelmed by fear the geezer’s eyes rolled back and he fell off his perch. The crown went silence. “He… He killed him… Without even laying a finger!?” trembled a coarse rasp. And then more valiant voices joined. Masque was target of every vulgarity known by the hundred-strong chorus, but while their anger was immense not one of them dared to enter the gym. They were content to keep beating on the windows and clamoring for blood and justice, as long as the saiyan remained petrified in place, that is. Which he was, the blubbering coward. |
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Post by Om-Yogu on Jan 18, 2019 16:33:11 GMT -6
Thread PL: 102,725
Yogu was flying above South City, with a look of contentedness on his face. He had an intense feeling of nostalgia looking down at the city. He remembered sitting on his Grandfather's back while he flew around the city, and he even got to watch when he would deal with common criminals every once in a blue moon! But, that was years ago. " Alright... Which Graveyard is he buried at? It's been way too long since I was here. Why didn't we ever visit South City? I guess I can ask my parents all these questions once all this World Trade Fleet business is over..." Oddly enough Yogu was starting to miss his parents again. When he was in Heaven and when he had first run away from home to go around the world he hadn't missed them one bit. Maybe it was being back in South City that made him miss his parents. That didn't matter at the moment though, it seemed like Yogu wouldn't be seeing his parents for a long time if the World Trade Fleet was going to stick around for long. " Alright I think it's somewhere around here- The hell is that?" There was a mob... Surrounding a gym? " What did someone at a gym do to piss off that many people? Well whatever it is, it can't be good..." Yogu looks back and forth to the gym and the cemetery that his grandfather is buried at. " Damn it... I don't have time for this! I was on a time crunch before I decided to take this detour to South City to begin with!" Despite his protesting to himself, Yogu lands behind the giant mob surrounding the front of the gym. They were all shouting some pretty bad things at whoever was inside. " This mob better be pretty justified or else I'm gonna have to smack all these guys around... Now that I think about it I should probably energy sense whoever's inside, just in case this is dangerous." Yogu does just that and finds a pretty large power level inside. " Shit." Yogu quickly pushes past the mob until he reaches the glass door. When he looks inside he finds that the source of the energy is none other than a Saiyan. Fully decked out with Trade Fleet gear. Standing over what looks like a dead guy. Great. Yogu whips around and faces the hundred-person mob. " EVERYONE GET OUTTA HERE NOW! IF YOU DON'T YOU'LL END UP GETTING HURT REAL QUICK!" Yogu turns back around and steps inside, not bothering to see if the mob would stay or not. It might not seem like the most heroic thing to make sure they aren't out of the way first, but he already gave his warning. Yogu gets a better look at the situation and sees the old man laying on the ground, looking pretty dead. Yogu's mind immediately drifts to his Grandfather and he's suddenly filled with an intense rage. His power spikes up for a moment before quickly coming back down. " Damn it! Stay calm!" Yogu takes a few more steps closer to the masked Fleet soldier. " Hey! Who the hell're you?! Explain what happened, NOW! Or, if you're with the fleet, I'm gonna give you 10 seconds to get the FUCK outta this town before I rip you apart!"
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Post by Tarch on Jan 18, 2019 17:04:23 GMT -6
Tarch PL: 100,000. Energy Setting: 40,000
South City was without a doubt Tarch’s city. It featured an open minded community of all sorts of races including the half saiyan teenager. It was easy to say he knew it like the back of his hand. There wasn’t a single thing he didn’t know about it. Tarch could tell you where to find the best restaurants, best stores for whatever you needed, and best of all a school that not only allowed but welcomed students gifted in using ki. It made sense since he spent most of his life in the area. It certainly helped that winter really only lasted for a few months if even that long. While Tarch enjoyed living in Saizomaru’s luxurious house in Central City, South City just had a homey feeling for the teen.
Today though seemed different. The usual sunny and cheery people were acting strangely. Something was definitely off. With his inner senses slowly coming back to their peak, Tarch was able to pick up an unusual power level nearby. It was huge, far surpassing the average Earthling. That wasn’t what made the hybrid concerned though. What worried him was how people seemed to actually be heading towards said energy source. Figuring he had nothing to lose, Tarch decided to investigate. However, as the teen pushed further and further through the crowd, the people around him grew more aggressive, shouting for blood, calling someone a monstrous criminal.
Finally, Tarch broke through a small ring of people surrounding a small family owned gym. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the masked man standing over the crumpled form of an elderly man. The city folk were shouting, calling him a murderer and the like. The masked man was wearing familiar armor, he saw enough of it on Namek.
“No… no no, not here!” A deep panic set into the staring teen. What was the World Trade Fleet doing here? This wasn’t right though. The masked man didn’t move, not a single inch as if frozen. Tarch managed to take a deep breath, letting his mind connect with the masked man. That was a mistake.
Tarch let out a shrill cry, his hands clutching at the sides of his head. Fear and loneliness. Ready to fight for his life if needed. It was immense, overwhelming to the young hybrid. Yet there was something more, not so much a feeling but a state of being. A smothering dark feeling, beyond anything Tarch could describe. Yet through all that, he swore he could feel something fleetingly familiar. One of the civilians next to him asked Tarch if he was ok, pointing out his bloody nose.
“I’m ok,” he dabbed a hand at his nostrils. A young man looking a few years older than Tarch showed up, taking half a second to assess the situation before ordering the crowd to flee. Tarch was floored by his insane energy. He was too overwhelmed by the fear coming from the masked criminal to notice it before. The man then screamed for the fleet member to make himself scarce before things got ugly.
“WAIT!” It was pure instinct. Tarch didn’t ever want to side with someone from the world trade fleet, but something about this just seemed wrong. “H-He’s… He’s scared.” Tarch’s explanation was barely a squeak. He felt as if he had to say more, but he was too intimidated by the two powerful people to get his words together.
permission for emotion feeling on Masque
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Post by Vocado on Jan 19, 2019 6:35:04 GMT -6
Thread Power Level: 120,000
Cities were hard to visit now. Hell, most things were harder now. Seeing people was rough; letting them know he was wounded in such a myriad of ways felt wrong. Vocado had gone his whole life feeling superior in a way he hadn't exactly intended. He was born an elite, in a time of peace that Saiyans had helped achieve. Privilege was a good word for it, he supposed. Losing that pedestal was tough on him. Tougher than he'd expected.
He wasn't sure what pushed him to visit civilization. Some sick sense of self-deprecation could have told him he needed to be seen by others. Let them shun him, so that his fears weren't just dreams. Or perhaps the hopeful spark still within wanted him to see his life wasn't meant for the gutters. Whichever end of the rope had led him here, it still wasn't clear. It might never be.
The peaceful early morning was abruptly halted by an angry mob. Frothing and furious, Vocado slipped into it, his energy nothing more than a pip higher than the rabble. He feigned shouting, keeping his motions more deliberate as he peered into the gym. Someone was being accused of murder, and a pair of heroes were ready to stop him.
A pair of surprisingly familiar heroes.
The Once-King groaned. Of all the people to see, it had to be the ones he weren't on great terms with. The last time he'd seen Tarch he'd spent a good few minutes brawling, and he only barely knew the other kid. He surmised that the Earthling wouldn't exactly hate him, especially since he was the one who wished the kid back.
Vocado waited a while. Watching them from the crowd with dull eyes. They were handling the situation poorly for fighters of their strength level. With a sigh of annoyance, the Saiyan Prince let his energy explode out of him, a blazing red aura knocking the crowd astray. Burly men were sent flying, and the few who kept their footing scurried across the street as quickly as they could.
"Forget my lessons already, pipsqueak?! When an enemy shows their face, you make it a point to get the job done quick!"
Ignoring any warnings his fellow fighters might give, Vocado launched into the gym, breaking a window as he flew toward the masked fighter. His fleet-born foe would be assailed with a kick to the face, intent on cracking that shroud and revealing the warrior beneath. It wasn't an intentional decision, but he supposed he was curious. Maybe the fighter below was a face he'd met before. He certainly knew a lot of Saiyans.
Attempting to unmask... Masque!
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Post by Kalaboo on Jan 19, 2019 9:01:46 GMT -6
Masque put a hand over his heart, feeling it beat furiously against his palm, he feared that at any moment it would just burst from the effort, such was his impotence facing the crowd. He hadn’t killed the geezer, or at least, not on purpose! If he had then the old man would have been reduced to red mush on the walls, and not a lukewarm body failed by a faulty pacemaker. It was not his fault! Why were these people screaming at him!? Masque seized his trembling hands and balled them into great fists. The front rows took a step back as he took one forward, anger veiled by the ivory white mask. Flickering ki surged down his arms, it was hard using another person’s energy, he had to stay focused and aim well his shot…
And out of nowhere came in a saviour, a tall(ish) human dressed in all green urging the people to step away. Masque was overcome with relief, dispelled the ki blades and collapsed against the wall, heaving with exhaustion as World Champion figures rained all over him. Yogu’s voice was a garbled mess to his ringing ears, but he understood the urgency, and the anger. Another boy appeared, this one younger and a saiyan. He also spoke with worry, but in a pleading tone, directed at his companion. Was he trying to defuse the situation? Masque was too stressed to think, so he just talked. “Idle hands bear no knives, idlemost are mine! Pray heed, pray heed, correlation of causation is ill-brother! And knife my throat the cadaver did, active hands those of his! What of Masque’s reprisal!? None, none, Masque wishes no harm, Masque wishes return! Of master and friend, whereabouts unknown, sent this way by comrades, chip-chip-chip and talons to the air!” With his defense made Masque hoisted himself back up, he looked at Tarch and Yogu through his ruby eye, unsure on how convincing he had been. “Of Bozo’s making, this one’s name is Masque...”, he then gestured at this body, “For Masque this body was borrowed. Of some Duke, it is, most ungrateful host, this Kala-” Before it could finish, another unexpected guest entered the scene with the perfect dynamic entry: a kick to the face.
Masque had the good luck of a quick death, certainly less painful than Kalabas would have liked it to have. The artifact split in two perfect porcelain halves and released a thick noxious cloud of thick purple smoke that was its reaped soul. Kalabas, however, was unlucky enough to survive, he suffered the brunt of Vocado’s boot, staggering a half dozen of steps back, covering his swelling right eye, grunting in stifled pain. “You…”, he rumbled through mouthfuls of saliva, transfixed by his childhood friend’s eyes, “Kicked me?” His thoughts were his own, his actions too, but Masque’s memories remained, twisted and hazy like some half-forgotten dream. Something about some weird cat zoan. He couldn’t help but nurturing an intense hatred for the creature, as if it had betrayed him.
His confusion was clear, he remembered the inside of his ship, mangled beyond repair so it would last longer, but now he was in some musty, shoddy building, with Vocado, some whelp, and a human. He gave all of them a passing glance, lost for words. “It worked. I am on Earth. Is Belle...” A strange sensation spread across his right arm, or rather, a complete lack thereof. He ripped his glove and saw a flimsy mechanical replacement of his hand, “By the ancestors… Am I dreaming?”
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Post by Om-Yogu on Jan 19, 2019 13:57:48 GMT -6
Yogu was just about to spring into action and beat the snot out of the Trade Fleet Saiyan, but is stopped! By another Saiyan no less, and one that looked like they were no older than eleven or twelve. The Saiyan kid says that the trade fleet soldier is "scared". " What? He's a Fleet Soldier and I'm about to rip him in half! Of course, he's scared!" Yogu takes another step forward and then the masked fleet soldier begins talking. Yogu stands there listening intently. Once the guy's speech was over, Yogu had many questions. " What. What even was like, half of that speech you just gave. Did he just mix some weird language from another planet into regular speech? Also, who's Bozo-" Then a window shattered and a prince from Vegeta kicks the masked man in the face. " OH! Hey, it's that guy! What's up King guy?" From what Yogu remembered, the King guy was pretty strong, so it looked like this situation was pretty much entirely handled. Yogu looks back at where the King had made his entrance. It was pretty clear that he barreled through a couple of people because they were just getting up off the pavement and running away. " Ya know, you didn't have to knock people over and all of that stuff. You could've just walked in and not injure a crowd of civilians." Yogu looks back over at the Fleet soldier, who's mask split in two from Vocado's kick. The soldier was acting all surprised and confused like he had just been broken out of some spell or something. He was talking about someone named Belle and asked if he was dreaming. The second he's done speaking Yogu shoves past Vocado and he begins to transform! His skin turns a pale gray and his ears become long and pointed as he turns into his Konatsian form. " BULLSHIT! You expect us to fall for that, huh? I don't give a damn if you're confused or not, you just walked into this town fully decked out in Fleet armor and killed a guy! YOU'RE GONNA PAY!" Yogu keeps punching the fleet soldier until he's stopped by someone.
OOC: Yogu enters his Konatsian Spirit form, his PL is now 308,175 |
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Post by Tarch on Jan 19, 2019 18:03:03 GMT -6
Tarch could barely process what the older teen was saying. He was too focused on the dark primal fear running through his soon to be victim. However, a voice snapped him back to reality. The hybrid looked over in time to see a familiar figure dart past him toward the gym. Now there was no way he could have missed a power so familiar. He must have been hiding it among the crowd.
“Mr. Vocado.” What was he doing on Earth? What was the fleet doing on earth? Why was any of this happening in his usually peaceful city? “No… Not here!” Tarch’s hands instantly balled into a fist. He left the war behind when he left Namek, refusing to go to Vegeta until it was safe. Yet here it was again. The war seemed to follow him. Of Course, Vocado had nothing more than a lecture. Yet something about was welcome. Perhaps it was because they were on earth, but hearing Vocado give a stern order made him remember his time under him on earth.
“Y-Yes sir, but something’s wrong.” Tarch knew his mentor at least tried to understand his emotion sensing. But he was too late to stop him from delivering a solid kick to the masked man’s face. When the mask fell, the young teen was hit with a wave a shock. Was this why you get the job done quick, so that if they're your friend you won't find out until it's too late? The saiyan wasn't a friend, but important to one.
“Mr. Kalabas?!” He was part of the World Trade Fleet?! No that can’t be right. He seemed so desperate to want to save his niece though. There was no way he would turn on her. Before Tarch could get another word out, the older teen’s skin suddenly went pale, his ears growing points. He was wailing into Kalabas with no remorse.
“W-Wait, STOP! Please let him go!” Tarch would try to pull the green clothed teenager off of the saiyan. If that didn’t work, he would instead try to at least get between the two. Either way, he would continue pleading. “Please! I don’t know what’s going on but there’s no way he’s one of them!”
Tarch tries to stop yogu
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Post by Vocado on Jan 20, 2019 0:11:29 GMT -6
”Thanks for the advice, but I’ll start taking it when I’m not the one who has to clean up all the mess. Take some initiative next time and go in swinging, Earthling.”
Vocado’s cloak was still tight around him as the masked fighter’s facade crumpled. Even if he’d lost some love for his former student, he still didn’t want Tarch to see his new, lowly state. He’d tell him some other time. As the smoke expelled itself from the ancient mask of the Fleet Warrior, Vocado’s worry about his own self image faded.
”You’ve got to be kidding.”
THIS was what had happened to Kalabas? Of all the things. Vocado assumes he’d deserted the war front and gone to drink his worries away in some upscale bar, or better yet he could have died in the vacuum of space. No, instead he decided to get himself brainwashed by the Fleet. The technology seemed so similar; eerily so, he might say. Did he not heed Banzo’s warning early enough?
As Yogu launched himself forward, Vocado’s body shuddered like a powerless light, vanishing from sight before re-appearing between Kalabas and Yogu. Should the Konatsian-Earthling-hybrid continue with his strike, Vocado would be sent skidding backwards, blood spilling from his lips. This kid was tough. His energy probably could have rivaled Vocado’s Oozaru form. It definitely didn’t match up to his new transformation— but it wasn’t time to unleash that. Not on a kid.
”You’ve got a good right hook, Kid. Save it for the real threats.”
The Exiled Prince turned to Kalabas, a worried eye watching over his close friend from so long ago. He’d lost something as well. Something closer to him than what could be seen on the surface. Chuckling, Vocado ruffled his cloak, revealing the stump that remained of his tail. ”Glad I’m not the only amputee with royal blood. Think they sell birthday cards about this kind of thing?”
His expression souring, Vocado turned back to the others, and steadied his stance. ”I’m giving you this one warning. Both of you need to leave Kalabas alone and walk out that door. He’s Kingdom-born, so he is under my protection. Whatever problems he’s caused we can fix later, but that has to wait until he’s back to his senses. Understand?”
KP: 3/3
Used [SIG] Super Instinct to dodge INTO the way of Yogu’s Attack.
1 charge of Super Instinct used. 1 charge remains.
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Post by Kalaboo on Jan 20, 2019 11:39:52 GMT -6
“Fleet armor!?” repeated the insulted noble, more offended by that particular statement than the accusation of murder, “What the devil are you on about, you beastly cad?” It seemed to Kalabas that he was cursed to time and time again be accosted by damnable aliens, it wasn’t enough that they kept forgetting their rightful place under the Kingdom’s bootheel, now they dared to question his allegiance and honor! The nerve of some people... But the earthling rascal was, for the lack of a better word, special (a hybrid) and so his acts and words were justified to an however small extent - he most certainly had inherited nothing but the faults and shortcomings of two different people, poor bastard, just look at those ears!
But Kalabas did enjoy a good tussle as much as the next monkey, he already had a plan in mind and half-realized when he lifted the body by the collar. There was no need, however, as that dwarfish lout Vocado decided to step in and save the Duke from having his brain punched out of his cranium. “Well then...” he sighed as he placed his victim on a swivel chair, hiding just how greatly he was amused by the turn of events, “Mine is a loving king.” And then he saw the Fleetman.
Reflected on the dusty window pane was his most duchal person, he looked like a diseased moribund ready for the grave, with the dark circles under his eyes, a coarse stubble like father’s, the skin stretched over his skull as if there was no fat between the two, and worst of all, the symbols of the World Trade Fleet branded all over his armor. Kalabas lost himself then. He clawed at the cuirass as if it was a living thing, with anger such that his fingers ripped even through the jumpsuit and slashed his skin. The hateful deed was done in a flurry of swipes.
The saiyan wasn’t perplexed anymore, instead his mind was warped by anger. Even if justified, it was a foul thing. Kalabas was no traitor, how could he be one? He was a Strongbone, by the ancestors, a Strongbone! What horrors, what nightmares, had he been put through? What crimes against his people did he commit, how many of his comrades had he killed? He looked into Vocado’s eyes in search for answers, and in them he saw only worry. “Vocado, why save me?”
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Post by Om-Yogu on Jan 20, 2019 22:52:01 GMT -6
The kid wanted Yogu to stop what he was going to do, but that was pretty much static to him. He was going to beat the snot out of this guy, it didn't matter what anyone was going to do! Then, the King, whose name was apparently Vocado according to the kid, did some weird technique and he got in front of the Fleet soldier. Was... Was the guy who was leading Vegeta actually protecting a Fleet soldier right now? " What the hell are you doing?! GET OUTTA MY WAY! AND DON'T CALL ME KID!" Instead, Vocado just turns around and talks to the unmasked fleet soldier. " Wait... What? He's a member of the royal family? This is getting way too confusing..." Of course, Vocado continued to ignore Yogu, until turning back to tell him and the kid Saiyan to leave. " Y-You're joking, right? You've gotta be joking." Yogu looks over to the kid behind him. " He is joking, yeah?" Yogu turns back to Vocado, who didn't seem to be joking at all. " Oh, I didn't know you were King of Vegeta and Earth! Listen, I don't give a DAMN if this guy is Kingdom-Born. I don't even know what that means! A man is dead, his blood is on that guy's hands! And you just expect me to just walk away no questions asked?" Yogu would've laughed there if it wasn't taking everything he had to not slam his fist into Vocado's nose. "I ain't leaving until this guy explains himself. So, you can either step out of my way and let me question him or I can just go straight through you! And trust me, it won't be that much of a fight. Judging by that tail you lost you can't seem to be able to protect yourself let alone someone else." Yogu probably shouldn't have said that, but he didn't care! Vocado was defending someone who killed an innocent man! Even if he did have to fight him, there's no way he could lose! He wouldn't be able to transform into that Oozaru form! Yogu was ahead in power by quite a lot. If the next thing the Saiyan did wasn't step out of his way, then he'd have a fist to the stomach.
OOC: Yogu's gonna get his ass kicked.
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Post by Tarch on Jan 21, 2019 11:30:04 GMT -6
The situation was chaos. Tarch was just left gawking, completely ignored in his attempts to pry the older teen from Kalabas, while Vocado swooped right in faster than anything he’d seen before. Things were looking ugly, a fight likely to break out. He had to say something. The green clothed teen turned to the younger hybrid to ask if the once king was joking.
“N-No he's serious. Mr. Kalabas is a duke for the saiyan kingdom. But…” But what? Tarch barely knew Kalabas and judging by his reaction he didn’t remember him. The half saiyan’s mind was flooding with all sorts of ideas and questions. All he could do was stand there looking helpless. Then Vocado said something disturbing. He said he wasn’t the only royal amputee. On top of that, the other teenager pointed out the lack of tail. While it was hard to tell through his cloak, Tarch could see no belt of brown fur around the noble’s waist. What happened to him?
Before anything else though, the other kid started picking a fight with Vocado. Now Vocado was tough, but Tarch could feel the big gap in their power. Tarch was wondering if he should step in. He couldn’t help much in his current state, at least not physically. Then he remembered something far more important. It was something he had to tell Kalabas, something that he hoped would help diffuse the situation.
“Belle is okay! She’s on Earth somewhere!” He blurted it out, his attention completely focused on her uncle. “Sorry, Mr. Vocado but I can’t leave him. I promised I would help him back on Namek.” Tarch slowly walked towards Kalabas, who was obviously distressed seeing himself in fleet armor. “The world trade fleet still has her, but she’s okay.” He would hope to use that as a way to settle the older teen down. “Please, you have to let Mr. Kalabas go, he needs to save his niece.”
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Post by Vocado on Jan 23, 2019 3:32:11 GMT -6
"Don't question a miracle when it happens, Kalabas. Just be thankful I didn't willfully ignore your face and dent it inwards."
His attention laid squarely on the Earthling boy across from him now. Tarch spoke more but Vocado ignored it, his eyes and ears almost tunneling in on Yogu's actions. The kid seemed intent on getting revenge for this random geezer, who was still sprawled out behind the bar. Rolling his eyes, Vocado stepped forward, accidentally giving Tarch room to talk to Kalabas.
"He could have killed a thousand men and I wouldn't bat an eye! He was controlled by another--GUAARGH!"
Yogu's fist was a blur as it raced its way into Vocado's gut. Blood splashed from the Once-King's mouth, spraying on the ground like a painting from some pompous art student. Before the Konatsian hybrid could pull his hand away, though, he'd feel a tight grip on his wrist. Vocado had latched on tightly, before turning his face up to smirk at the boy.
"You really ought to stop judging books by their covers!"
His aura changed mid-sentence, and in a flash his energy exploded outward. Golden light poured from his body, his hair spiking up elegantly like a craggy mountain. With a swift motion he kicked at Yogu's chest, intent on sending him through the wall of the building.
He didn't even turn his head to the other two before addressing them, instead opting to bring forth a shining golden blade of Ki from what once was his right arm. "Tarch. Get Kalabas out of here. The base in the north has been refurbished. They should recognize you and that oaf of a Duke. Let them patch him up." Vocado's body dipped low, his arm and Ki sword fanned out at his sides like two plane wings. "I'll make sure we aren't followed."
Vocado kicked off the ground, his cloak fluttering off his body and landing on the ground with a dull thud. Wherever Yogu was, Vocado would launch himself toward the boy, aiming a flying knee for the Earthling's gut.
He didn't care that he was being a jackass. This was going to be some much needed stress relief.
KP: 7/7
Super Saiyan (x15T) Active!
Current PL: 1,800,000!
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Post by Kalaboo on Jan 24, 2019 16:13:15 GMT -6
Whatever doubts that Kalabas had about Vocado and his right to rule vanished. Instead of envy he felt admiration, his contempt turned into wonder, the hatred he had diligently cultivated over the course of several years was proved wrong and now he ached with violent pangs of shame. He didn’t know how he could ever make up for his wrongdoings, but not letting his king’s efforts go to waste would be a start as good as any. “Thank you.” he said with uncharacteristic simplicity, unable to put delve deeper into his thoughts while surrounded by three shrieking, impossibly driven lunatics. The kid, what's his face, looked about as helpless as the unbrainwashed noble. To the latter’s surprise, not only did the boy know of Belle, he claimed that she was still on Earth, safe and sound despite her shackles. “ I can’t believe it…” mumbled the corpse duke, cynical. Then again, the kid didn’t seem the lying sort, and he somehow knew that she was his niece, so perhaps things were finally turning for the better, “But I must. You spoke of a promise we made on Namek, remind me of it later.” Wasting no time, Kalabas took a step in the door’s direction and got himself embedded into the wall by a massive surge of power, the greatest he had sensed yet. Kalabas felt a cold tingling spread from the crown of his head to the tip of his tail. So much ki, burning so strong, bright and warm... He knew that it was only a matter of time until someone reached such heights, but Vocado? What divine intelligence had orchestrated it so that the King of all Saiyans became the first of an era? It felt right, too right, almost a waste against such an opponent as the boy in green… And then Kalabas realized that Vocado deigned to use his golden form to protect his lifelong tormentor, for in a time before time they had been friends. Kalaba's bloated ego grew three sizes that day, but so did his gratitude. “A super saiyan…” The cycle would begin once more, Vocado would be followed by many others… Perhaps even the Duke? The exhilarated blur pulled Tarch by the hand and pointed at the door, “You heard the King, we must make ourselves scant!”Attempting Thread exit!
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Post by Om-Yogu on Jan 29, 2019 17:35:51 GMT -6
WAS THIS PIECE OF SHIT ACTUALLY JUSTIFYING WHAT HAPPENED?! Yogu delivers a strong punch to his gut without so much as saying a word. " GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY WAY- Huh?" How did Vocado grab onto his wrist? There was no way he could've recovered from that gun punch that quickly! And what the hell did he mean by not judging a book by its cover? The Saiyan had no way to beat him! He lost his tail, so the fight was over before it even began! With no Oozaru, Yogu had a big advantage in power! Why did the air suddenly feel different? Then all hell broke loose. Vocado's hair suddenly changed from black to gold and alarm bells were going off in Yogu's brain. " Oh." Why did he feel numb all of a sudden? By the time he had a chance to recollect himself, it was already too late. It felt like everything was happening in slow motion, but also way too fast at the same time. Then he felt an intense pain rack through his body, starting at the chest. Before he was even launched he knew a rib or two were broken. Then he felt the weirdly familiar sensation of being tossed through a brick wall. Then he felt the shattering of glass as he was sent through the sliding glass door of an office building just behind the gym. He heard screams and shouts to call the police, but they were far off in the background for Yogu. " What the hell just happened?" Yogu was in a heap on the lobby floor of the tall office building, and there was a lot of blood everywhere. He manages to catch a glimpse outside and see the now unmasked saiyan flying off. " That kid said his name was... Kalabas, right...? Well... At least I got a name. That should help me in case I can't somehow get past Vocado and get back to him... WOW, THAT HURTS!" Yogu starts to sit up. " Alright, just gotta think this through- SHIIIIT!" But is immediately sent flying again by the Super Saiyan King's knee to the gut. A little bit of blood and vomit spew out of Yogu's mouth and he's sent crashing through another wall and back out onto the streets of South City. The teenager gets hit so hard he goes back into his base form. " Hey... VOCADO! THIS TOSSING ME THROUGH BUILDINGS BIT IS GETTING OLD FAST!" Yogu spews out some more blood onto the pavement. He looks to his side and sees that he's backed up the street, and a line of cars was sitting there. " Oh... SORRY! Just gimme a second..." He steps back onto a sidewalk on the far side of the street from the building. " Man... Talk about moving the goalpost, huh? Just when I thought I was getting strong enough to help out against the WTF too..." Oh yeah, he was fighting that behemoth of power. " Alright... Deep breaths Yogu." After calming himself for a moment and waiting for the hover cars to pass, he steps towards the hole in the building, and towards Vocado. " HEY VOCADO! Don't think you changing your hair color out of nowhere is gonna stop me! If you won't get the hell outta my way still, then I'm gonna follow through on that promise of going right through you!" Two balls of ki appear in his hands. " Damn, it's gonna be difficult to hit a target I can't see! Hopefully, Kanrin's accuracy training is gonna come in handy here! Guess I have Energy Sensing to help me get an idea of where he is- oh. Nevermind." Well trying to find him was going to be hard. If Yogu had to visualize the energy that he sensed, it would be like a massive dome was placed around the city made of the saiyan's energy. " GUESS WE'RE GOING WITH GUESSING!" Yogu unleashes a volley of ki blasts through the hole, aimed straight at the once-king. " I AIN'T BEING KEPT ON THE SIDELINES ANYMORE! I'M GONNA FIGURE OUT WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON AND I'M GONNA HELP TAKE DOWN THOSE FLEET PIECES OF SHIT! EVEN IF IT KILLS ME AGAIN!" Yogu follows up his ki blasts by dashing in and trying to elbow the king in the face! " How do you like getting hit through a building?! HURTS A HELL OF A LOT, DOESN'T IT?!"
OOC: The smackdown of the century begins! ...That would end in one ki attack from Vocado.
Yogu goes back to his base form. His PL is now 102,725.
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Post by Tarch on Jan 29, 2019 19:11:18 GMT -6
“You lost…?” Tarch was utterly floored. The once king Vocado was down his tail and more importantly his arm. Yet here he was on earth, emanating an aura of absolute power. His hair was shining gold, his power jumping to higher than anything Tarch had seen anyone attain. So how did he lose two limbs? The only thing Tarch could think of was that Kayen beat him. Of course, it could have been any number of things. He didn’t even hear anything Kalabas said beyond the words ‘super saiyan.’
“That’s a super saiyan?” The young hybrid was in dazed awe. Something about the form was scary, chilling to the bone. Yet despite how shaken Tarch was, he didn’t move yet. Seeing Vocado shining with such strength actually compelled him to stay. It was as if his saiyan blood was calling out, telling him to reach for this. There was no way he could ever reach this. He was only half saiyan after all, not to mention he had actually become weaker since he returned from Namek.
“Mr. Vocado…” He couldn’t leave, though seeing Yogu being tossed through a wall like it was nothing definitely snapped him back to his senses. Tarch had something far more important to do. Kalabas was back, which meant Belle was closer than ever. “Alright, I’ll go help Mr. Kalabas! Just… I want to… no, we’re going to talk after this, just you and me… is that ok?” Tarch would wait for an answer before flying off regardless. He had to know what this was about, not just this apparent super saiyan, but how he came to be about ten pounds lighter.
Tarch attempts to follow Kalabas out of the thread
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