Post by Nashi on Nov 18, 2019 2:42:28 GMT -6
Oh, heck. I guess today just isn’t a great day for me. It made sense. After all, it was a Monday. And, as a cat, Nashi absolutely hated Mondays. Yes, that must have been it. These two Saiyans were generally unimpressive and not too bright, so it must have been because of what day of the week it was.
Knocking Cress out wasn’t going to be so easy, as for the second occasion in as many neurons Vocado managed to throw himself in the way of the attack like a moth to a lamp or a pre-nerf Trampling SIG to an A1. Vocado wasn’t faring well from that at all… and, yeah, it certainly wasn’t the intended target, but seeing that each of his opponents were so thoroughly hurt was rather validating, given that Nashi had been fighting two opponents each with Power Levels rather similar to his own. ”I’d congratulate you on getting this far, but an especially dedicated spoon could have done it in half the time!” Never underestimate what an especially dedicated spoon could do. That’s how they get ya.
Before Vocado’s attack was Cress’: a Raze Flash, the third in a line of Razes. But perhaps it should have been called the Raise Flash, for how it was about to raise Nashi to Heaven… or, perhaps it would have, were Nashi as strong as he thought he was. But, no, he was the teensiest bit stronger, and had the teensiest bit more of himself in himself. Nashi threw himself out of the way of the Raze Flash as fast as he could feasibly manage, and a bit further than that, to the floor while the Raze Flash smashed through the wall and, in doing so, made an aesthetically unpleasant window. Truly, Cress was a monster.
"Oh, heckin' danged nabbit hullabaloo..." Nashi’s claws, once again, were fingertips. His tails, once again, were blue. They were blue before anyway, but what was important was that they were blue now, too. Nashi collapsed, lacking even the energy to stand, as he made his last thoughts. He slowly dragged himself across the blood-smeared floors until, suddenly, he was stopped by something in the way: the television. The television. The one he spent hours in front of… the one he learnt what it was to be a hero in front of. What, thought Nashi, would a hero do in this situation? Win, was the obvious answer. But such a thing was not possible, not now, Nashi knew that. So, if winning was not possible, what was the next best thing? Preventing the villains from winning.
”Of all the ways to die,” started Nashi, his speech perfectly clear despite the gallons of blood in his mouth and lack of any gallons of teeth, ”I refuse to die at the hands of someone so inconceivably dumb.” Nashi forced himself onto his feet with energy he didn’t have, using the television as a support, blood smearing across its screen and side like Time’s appreciation over a clever analogy. Nashi’s double aura of red and gold, snuffed out of existence, snuffed straight back into existence as if it had only forgotten to exist for a smidgeon. Most of all, Nashi refused to let his last words be anything but a quip, and he had too many quips in mind to use given how quickly it seemed he was dying. ”So, in conclusion, you have the intellectual capacity of a collection of legs but with all the legs removed, your mothers almost mistakenly threw you into the trash upon first seeing you, that Super Saiyan hair is thousands of years out of fashion, your fighting styles are both frighteningly generic without even the slightest degree of personality or skill and you both look just, like, heaps dumb.” Pfew. If he weren’t on 0KP already, that would have sent him there. Nashi smiled, blood coming off his lips, as brilliant and powerful golden and blood red light shone out of his skin and orifices and self. This was so climactic, cool and heroic, Nashi was pretty sure he could actually hear his theme! It was far better than Vocado’s, in any case. ”So, adios, toodaloo, and I’ll be back before you know it!”
Marvelous as that was, Nashi was spending more ki than he actually, properly, had. Without any of the usual supply to ki to draw on, Nashi instead had to draw on the ki that regulated his body. For example, the ki— life force— that kept his heart beating. And, by bringing that out… well. Many lights in one, a thousand flashes together. Nashi was no more precisely one picosecond before Vocado’s attack would have hit, because screw that guy. The aurora that was born, the aurora that died, that aurora that came back only to die in a flash so bright the sun saw it and was like, ‘oh dang’. It was a bang of red and yellow able to see seen clearly from the surface or from the Lookout— and heard there, too. Vocado and Cress, if their retinas weren’t burnt into dust and that dust burnt into smaller bits of dust, would eventually open their eyes to see that Nashi was no longer present. Not there, not anywhere on Earth.
Everywhere, upon the floor and upon the walls and even upon the poor, still functional though messy television, was covered by a thin film of peace, oh and also the dust that used to be his clothes. The Power Pole was no longer there, not in its full form and not as dust, either. The Senzu Bonsai, too, was mysteriously missing, but the Dragon Ball Nashi had hid there remained. Another thing that remained was some of the potent fertiliser covering the Dragon Ball, which smelt like what poop would smell like if poop smelled more like poop. One last jest, one last quip, even in death.
Rest in Peace, Nashi. May the third time never come.
Knocking Cress out wasn’t going to be so easy, as for the second occasion in as many neurons Vocado managed to throw himself in the way of the attack like a moth to a lamp or a pre-nerf Trampling SIG to an A1. Vocado wasn’t faring well from that at all… and, yeah, it certainly wasn’t the intended target, but seeing that each of his opponents were so thoroughly hurt was rather validating, given that Nashi had been fighting two opponents each with Power Levels rather similar to his own. ”I’d congratulate you on getting this far, but an especially dedicated spoon could have done it in half the time!” Never underestimate what an especially dedicated spoon could do. That’s how they get ya.
Before Vocado’s attack was Cress’: a Raze Flash, the third in a line of Razes. But perhaps it should have been called the Raise Flash, for how it was about to raise Nashi to Heaven… or, perhaps it would have, were Nashi as strong as he thought he was. But, no, he was the teensiest bit stronger, and had the teensiest bit more of himself in himself. Nashi threw himself out of the way of the Raze Flash as fast as he could feasibly manage, and a bit further than that, to the floor while the Raze Flash smashed through the wall and, in doing so, made an aesthetically unpleasant window. Truly, Cress was a monster.
"Oh, heckin' danged nabbit hullabaloo..." Nashi’s claws, once again, were fingertips. His tails, once again, were blue. They were blue before anyway, but what was important was that they were blue now, too. Nashi collapsed, lacking even the energy to stand, as he made his last thoughts. He slowly dragged himself across the blood-smeared floors until, suddenly, he was stopped by something in the way: the television. The television. The one he spent hours in front of… the one he learnt what it was to be a hero in front of. What, thought Nashi, would a hero do in this situation? Win, was the obvious answer. But such a thing was not possible, not now, Nashi knew that. So, if winning was not possible, what was the next best thing? Preventing the villains from winning.
”Of all the ways to die,” started Nashi, his speech perfectly clear despite the gallons of blood in his mouth and lack of any gallons of teeth, ”I refuse to die at the hands of someone so inconceivably dumb.” Nashi forced himself onto his feet with energy he didn’t have, using the television as a support, blood smearing across its screen and side like Time’s appreciation over a clever analogy. Nashi’s double aura of red and gold, snuffed out of existence, snuffed straight back into existence as if it had only forgotten to exist for a smidgeon. Most of all, Nashi refused to let his last words be anything but a quip, and he had too many quips in mind to use given how quickly it seemed he was dying. ”So, in conclusion, you have the intellectual capacity of a collection of legs but with all the legs removed, your mothers almost mistakenly threw you into the trash upon first seeing you, that Super Saiyan hair is thousands of years out of fashion, your fighting styles are both frighteningly generic without even the slightest degree of personality or skill and you both look just, like, heaps dumb.” Pfew. If he weren’t on 0KP already, that would have sent him there. Nashi smiled, blood coming off his lips, as brilliant and powerful golden and blood red light shone out of his skin and orifices and self. This was so climactic, cool and heroic, Nashi was pretty sure he could actually hear his theme! It was far better than Vocado’s, in any case. ”So, adios, toodaloo, and I’ll be back before you know it!”
Marvelous as that was, Nashi was spending more ki than he actually, properly, had. Without any of the usual supply to ki to draw on, Nashi instead had to draw on the ki that regulated his body. For example, the ki— life force— that kept his heart beating. And, by bringing that out… well. Many lights in one, a thousand flashes together. Nashi was no more precisely one picosecond before Vocado’s attack would have hit, because screw that guy. The aurora that was born, the aurora that died, that aurora that came back only to die in a flash so bright the sun saw it and was like, ‘oh dang’. It was a bang of red and yellow able to see seen clearly from the surface or from the Lookout— and heard there, too. Vocado and Cress, if their retinas weren’t burnt into dust and that dust burnt into smaller bits of dust, would eventually open their eyes to see that Nashi was no longer present. Not there, not anywhere on Earth.
Everywhere, upon the floor and upon the walls and even upon the poor, still functional though messy television, was covered by a thin film of peace, oh and also the dust that used to be his clothes. The Power Pole was no longer there, not in its full form and not as dust, either. The Senzu Bonsai, too, was mysteriously missing, but the Dragon Ball Nashi had hid there remained. Another thing that remained was some of the potent fertiliser covering the Dragon Ball, which smelt like what poop would smell like if poop smelled more like poop. One last jest, one last quip, even in death.
Rest in Peace, Nashi. May the third time never come.
doj’d cress’
went to tranquil delivery
activated double gated at 0KP, dealing 300% damage to nashi
vocado’s attack did nothing lol
get yote on, gamers
big RIP to Nashi
[a heckin’ zillion/7KP]"oh neat i'm a blue puff of spirit now"
RAMEN
