Post by Oboe on Sept 7, 2019 18:23:13 GMT -6
The apology was the only warning Oboe had as her speed was far too fast even for his energy sense to track. Gazing up, in what felt like slow motion, the Guru would stare at the glowing energy cascading him in a brilliant ambience. Even if she had said she was holding back, the Guru could scarcely believe that such a difference in strength could exist between them. Once again, visages of the one known as ‘Monster’ nearly killing him flew through his mind. He couldn’t escape this, with all his newfound power, with all of his combined power with Steno, this was all he could accomplish. The fire within didn’t matter, there was nothing more he could do against such power. He knew it and with that knowledge came a small pang of acceptance. The Namekian realized this was his limit. Even if he could fuel the fires within, burning embers representing the Warrior’s prowess that was Steno, how could it possibly be enough? No. This was fine. This could be where it ended and Oboe would be happy with it.
Once again, the shadow of the young lad, Tarch, would interrupt such a – what would be – lethal blow. This time however, the protection had come at a cost as he was sent flying backwards tumultuously. Oboe’s head snapped back to follow his trajectory yelling out;
“Tarch!”
A pit of despair filled him even as he watched the young man recover. Clearly a bit worse for wear for the damage, Tarch would still launch a counter offensive upon Nashua rushing at her full speed in an attempt to overwhelm her senses. Meanwhile, all Oboe could feel was the regret that once again someone had gotten hurt because of him. He was always in need of protection and it was always someone else who took the brunt of the pain. Why? Why couldn’t he protect himself now?! Wasn’t Steno and he – fused as one – enough?! It was maddening! Why were others constantly feeling the sting of the wounds meant for him? Typha, Steno, now Tarch? They had all been thrown into or ready to throw themselves into the line of fire for him – because he was Guru? Because he was weak? Why was this always happening?!
Its because you keep denying what we’re meant to be! You took me in but you have yet to accept me as a part of you. Its time Oboe – the true reason you cannot grow forward is this; You deny our existence, you deny who we now are. You’re afraid – I know. You don’t wish to relinquish control of who you are and I understand that; but I am not your enemy. You will have control but we will be…someone different…someone new… Steno’s voice spoke proudly, confidently before fading into the distance.
Slowly as the weight of his thoughts placed pressure on his mind, a violet miasma began to leak from his pores. Golden sparks of electricity began to illuminate around the outer edges of his outline. Slow, surely, a golden-white hum of light began to rise up and outward from around the Guru as another type of smoke – intermingling and flowing alongside the violet. His wounds began to steam with wisps of vapor, his eyes losing their pupiled appearance; his mind had become a void.
A voice spoke from within, deep and guttural, like that of a dragon;
Release me...
Who was that? Steno? Himself? Who…
You know me...we are one, we are what should be but you refuse me...but now you must release me...so that I may show you the way...the true way of our newfound power...let me in...accept me...
The low roar caused a tremble down his spine as his power spiked more and more. The light steaming out of his body shot upward like a pillar – a crack of thunder ripping into the air as a metamorphosis overtook Oboe. His figure, obscured by the brilliance encasing him, seemed to change. A magical glow emanated outward as his clothing began to change within the pillar. Straps of leather connecting overtop a new, battle rob, similar to his old yet more reminiscent to the Warrior Castes. In the center of the straps, his familiar Oros clan pendant – the brilliant orange orb emblazoned with a more violet outline of his its serpent motif.
Yes, Thats it, I will prevent anyone else from getting hurt because of us. I will be what we have needed to be. We will be...complete...
As swiftly as it had begun, the Pillar of light dissipated. Standing before the Saiyans – in a newly formed outfit, staff nowhere to be seen – Oboe had been reborn. The brilliant dual-shaded aura – both violet and gold interlacing – illuminated the now red pupils of his eyes. A single black line had appeared beneath each eye, these two physical changes the most noticeable indication of a change in his person. The Fused warrior had finally tapped into the essence within; Had accepted the presence of he and his guardians new being and as such had tapped into a whole new sense of power and being. His earlier wounds seemed completely restored as if never having happened. Proudly standing – a look of calm upon his face – Oboe seemed to have forgotten his brothers in attendance though they seemed shocked at the new form of their spiritual leader.
He himself stood in awe of the feeling of power now surging through his form. The Namekian whom had constantly been fearful of the next person who would come upon him, once more with murderous intent, who had been shaken to the core for months since his many near death experiences, had suddenly felt at peace with it all. He was finally as one with himself. The flaming aura around him sparked here and there, intense power as Oboe near matched Tarch’s current power.
With a speed that was faster than any he’d exhibited before in his life, Oboe rushed to Tarch’s aide as he attempted to create an opening for the warrior whom had been so willing to throw himself into harms way. Even if this was a Spar, it was that action – the action that had cost so many so much – that had been the emotional trigger needed to push Oboe over the edge; to allow him to synchronize internally with his newfound fused power. Thrusting his arms outward, the limbs extending to an extreme length as the Namekian would rain a flurry of whip like blows to assail the woman from afar.
This change in tactic came with an intensity that had not yet been seen from either Oboe or his brothers – as far as he was aware. Waiting until the moment was right, the Namekian would swing his arms out to either side – both palms facing Nashua – energy encapsulating their outstretched fingers and palm. With a silent acknowledgement, twin spheres of energy would form in both hands on either side of the woman as he declared its name;
Hodan
From both Hands two familiar orbs of Energy would shoot out towards the Super Saiyan lass; Their helix tails whistling as they approached, the intent to slam into Nashua with intense force from either side. He hoped that this would create the opening that Tarch would need to either retreat, for what he’d need for the next phase of his plan, or counter-attack. Unaware, Oboe did not notice that those Namekians in attendance would stare on in awe; Truly shocked at the depth of their leaders powers. Where had this strength come from? Were they all capable of such things? The morale around them had started to improve as a murmur overtook those in watching.
Tarch | Nashua
Once again, the shadow of the young lad, Tarch, would interrupt such a – what would be – lethal blow. This time however, the protection had come at a cost as he was sent flying backwards tumultuously. Oboe’s head snapped back to follow his trajectory yelling out;
“Tarch!”
A pit of despair filled him even as he watched the young man recover. Clearly a bit worse for wear for the damage, Tarch would still launch a counter offensive upon Nashua rushing at her full speed in an attempt to overwhelm her senses. Meanwhile, all Oboe could feel was the regret that once again someone had gotten hurt because of him. He was always in need of protection and it was always someone else who took the brunt of the pain. Why? Why couldn’t he protect himself now?! Wasn’t Steno and he – fused as one – enough?! It was maddening! Why were others constantly feeling the sting of the wounds meant for him? Typha, Steno, now Tarch? They had all been thrown into or ready to throw themselves into the line of fire for him – because he was Guru? Because he was weak? Why was this always happening?!
Its because you keep denying what we’re meant to be! You took me in but you have yet to accept me as a part of you. Its time Oboe – the true reason you cannot grow forward is this; You deny our existence, you deny who we now are. You’re afraid – I know. You don’t wish to relinquish control of who you are and I understand that; but I am not your enemy. You will have control but we will be…someone different…someone new… Steno’s voice spoke proudly, confidently before fading into the distance.
Slowly as the weight of his thoughts placed pressure on his mind, a violet miasma began to leak from his pores. Golden sparks of electricity began to illuminate around the outer edges of his outline. Slow, surely, a golden-white hum of light began to rise up and outward from around the Guru as another type of smoke – intermingling and flowing alongside the violet. His wounds began to steam with wisps of vapor, his eyes losing their pupiled appearance; his mind had become a void.
A voice spoke from within, deep and guttural, like that of a dragon;
Release me...
Who was that? Steno? Himself? Who…
You know me...we are one, we are what should be but you refuse me...but now you must release me...so that I may show you the way...the true way of our newfound power...let me in...accept me...
The low roar caused a tremble down his spine as his power spiked more and more. The light steaming out of his body shot upward like a pillar – a crack of thunder ripping into the air as a metamorphosis overtook Oboe. His figure, obscured by the brilliance encasing him, seemed to change. A magical glow emanated outward as his clothing began to change within the pillar. Straps of leather connecting overtop a new, battle rob, similar to his old yet more reminiscent to the Warrior Castes. In the center of the straps, his familiar Oros clan pendant – the brilliant orange orb emblazoned with a more violet outline of his its serpent motif.
Yes, Thats it, I will prevent anyone else from getting hurt because of us. I will be what we have needed to be. We will be...complete...
As swiftly as it had begun, the Pillar of light dissipated. Standing before the Saiyans – in a newly formed outfit, staff nowhere to be seen – Oboe had been reborn. The brilliant dual-shaded aura – both violet and gold interlacing – illuminated the now red pupils of his eyes. A single black line had appeared beneath each eye, these two physical changes the most noticeable indication of a change in his person. The Fused warrior had finally tapped into the essence within; Had accepted the presence of he and his guardians new being and as such had tapped into a whole new sense of power and being. His earlier wounds seemed completely restored as if never having happened. Proudly standing – a look of calm upon his face – Oboe seemed to have forgotten his brothers in attendance though they seemed shocked at the new form of their spiritual leader.
He himself stood in awe of the feeling of power now surging through his form. The Namekian whom had constantly been fearful of the next person who would come upon him, once more with murderous intent, who had been shaken to the core for months since his many near death experiences, had suddenly felt at peace with it all. He was finally as one with himself. The flaming aura around him sparked here and there, intense power as Oboe near matched Tarch’s current power.
With a speed that was faster than any he’d exhibited before in his life, Oboe rushed to Tarch’s aide as he attempted to create an opening for the warrior whom had been so willing to throw himself into harms way. Even if this was a Spar, it was that action – the action that had cost so many so much – that had been the emotional trigger needed to push Oboe over the edge; to allow him to synchronize internally with his newfound fused power. Thrusting his arms outward, the limbs extending to an extreme length as the Namekian would rain a flurry of whip like blows to assail the woman from afar.
This change in tactic came with an intensity that had not yet been seen from either Oboe or his brothers – as far as he was aware. Waiting until the moment was right, the Namekian would swing his arms out to either side – both palms facing Nashua – energy encapsulating their outstretched fingers and palm. With a silent acknowledgement, twin spheres of energy would form in both hands on either side of the woman as he declared its name;
Hodan
From both Hands two familiar orbs of Energy would shoot out towards the Super Saiyan lass; Their helix tails whistling as they approached, the intent to slam into Nashua with intense force from either side. He hoped that this would create the opening that Tarch would need to either retreat, for what he’d need for the next phase of his plan, or counter-attack. Unaware, Oboe did not notice that those Namekians in attendance would stare on in awe; Truly shocked at the depth of their leaders powers. Where had this strength come from? Were they all capable of such things? The morale around them had started to improve as a murmur overtook those in watching.
Tarch | Nashua
OKAY! Whew, Alot! Sorry! Thanks for the Patience!
Oboe, synchronizing with his fusion, releases his second form; Gigun: Ryu Hado!
New Power Level: 1,749,000
New KP: 7/7
Oboe Uses Racial: Regeneration! Restores 100%.
Using his Extending Limbs, Oboe Uses: [UA2] Gigun: Hodan (Righteous Force: Cannonball) to slam into either side of Nashua with the intent to damage for 1,154,340 DMG
KP Used: 2
KP Remaining: 5/7
