Post by Erina Blade on May 23, 2019 22:59:02 GMT -6
Sometimes silence is the best partner. Erina sat on a lone boulder, surrounded by the vast nothingness of the wasteland. Her eyes traveled the blank pages of the notebook she held, words and ideas forming in her mind. The last journey to the capital had turned up more juicy material for writing, and now the woman was doing her best to capture it on paper.
“Maybe changing the Saiyan to a Demon would give the story more oomph...but then I would have to switch it from a legend to an original story. Hmm...or I could make the two fighters rivals from childhood. Kids love that kind of thing.” Nodding to herself in satisfaction, the woman picked the pencil up off the rock next to her. Setting the lead against the paper, she began writing the story that came from within. A little embellishment, a worthy battle, and a gallant fighter had come together into one amazing tale, which was now being scribble into the book she held.
The woman’s focus was so honed into the notebook and work at hand, she would scarcely notice the approach of anyone from outside. After all, a writer is the furthest thing from reality when lost deep in the world of their words.
A GALICK THAT DOESN'T GUN GALICK'S PL: 10,000 ------------ GALICK'S ITEMS: Destron Machine / Scouter / Armor
Life had grown quiet and repetitive. Galick didn't mind the change of pace for once- it gave him more time to better attempt to acclimate to his condition. Destron Gas was a deathly substance, capable of stripping stamina from even the strongest fighters. Galick housed the toxic vapor in his very body, immune to most of it's effects- and he could now use it's poisonous powers at his beck and call, to a degree. Still, that didn't mean being a walking container for the death gas was always a pleasant experience.
Galick had largely taken residence in the Destron Wastes for his training. The toxic smog was at it's thickest in it's depths- anyone who wandered this far out was either suicidally stupid or plain ignorant or stubborn. Many unsuspecting souls had perished, but now they had a cranky cyborg to kick them out before they died. Most of the time.
The gas tended to move in sporadic waves- like the coming of tides in the sea. Part of the deep crags and ruins had cleared, save for an inch of translucent purple haze lingering on the earth below. Bluffs and ruined structures dotted the rest of the valley, exposed from the usual sea of smog that hid them away. Galick's metallic foot tapped on the ground. He glanced behind him, eyeing the faint tinge of purple start to creep through the city once more. It wouldn't be long before all of this was covered in poison once more, but there was yet another blissful power level nearby, if his scouter was any indication. The word Destron rarely brought good things. Leaving alone a location that was plainly named after the gas seemed like an elementary feat, but here he was. His irritated grumble was quickly morphed into an incoherent string of buzzes.
After a short flight, the cyborg was only more baffled at the trespasser he'd spotted. Was she writing? Drawing? This was the last place for leisurely activities. The wind stirred as Galick's form was enveloped by his purple aura. Darting to stop above the unsuspecting saiyan, the android would call out to the other saiyan with a grating chain of buzzes and mechanical clicks- it wasn't like he could verbalize much else. The misshapen cyborg narrowed his eyes, turning his head back to the distant ruins behind him. Already, a distant smog of purple had festered over the horizon. Arms crossed, the irritable android gestured with his head back to the distant spires of the Cacumber Capitol. If the woman valued her life, then it'd be wise to move somewhere less deathly.
Post by Erina Blade on Jun 17, 2019 23:03:00 GMT -6
Erina’s pencil stopped scribbling when a shift in the wind brought her attention up. True to the name, the Destron Crag was shifting course and its deadly gases were flowing in different directions. Rising from her spot, the woman’s gaze shifted behind her. If her notes were correct, she was near what was once a large metropolis, before disaster and Destron tore it apart. She didn’t get far before a new figure caught her attention. From his lack of a presence, he was either a ninja or an android...based solely on his appearance and the tubes of strange gas hooked to his body, the Scholar was willing to bet he was an android. When a burst of crackling noise burst from where his mouth should’ve been, the woman nodded once.
Yep, definitely an android.
Reaching into her pocket, the woman pulled out a small breathing apparatus of her own. Activating the device and ensuring the air was flowing properly, the woman strapped it over her mouth and nose. Checking the seal, she nodded in satisfaction. Next to come from her pocket was a set of goggles, large and ridiculous. The size was to allow for her glasses to remain on underneath. Sliding them on over her mane of hair, the woman ensured they sat properly on her face. Finished with that task, the last thing to emerge was a pencil and a small pad of paper. Holding both out towards the man, the woman spoke through her own black mask.
“Maybe a pencil will work better than your voice, friend. I’m here for research and to learn more. Do you mind telling me your name?”