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Post by Ronin Sashouka on Feb 20, 2018 18:43:28 GMT -6
The night was young, the moon having only risen a short while ago over Satan City. One of its many gyms, dedicated in some manner or another to the city's legendary namesake, was open in particular. Sashouka had made it his job to get in from the wastes, intending to accept any sort of challenge the town had to throw at him. Earlier today had been quite something, but tonight had to be even better. The dojo had to build up its reputation, starting with the master who could take on any challenge thrown his way. And considering the last two gyms he had outright dominated, this one was feeling pretty positive. Sashouka had left his shirt behind, some bandages sporting much of his bare upper half. Unlike most fighters who were outright shredded, Ronin lacked the "cut" definition on his arms and was even considerably light around his torso. Most of his fighting style didn't lend to training that defined it... though it definitely didn't stop him from looking tough as nails.
Carefully moving into the contained ring of this new gym, one made to accommodate the fairly decent number of Earthlings that at least had low-level ki capabilities, it was refreshing for once that there was some official air to things. Besides the elder, very little that the nomad did these days was tightly regulated. It wasn't exactly nice being in a big city, as someone who grew up in a much smaller village, but it changed the pace. Things like this provided a bigger challenge that only moved to better steel the Earthling for more uncomfortable challenges. Today was about building experience not just for the dojo, but for himself. Even with skill, someone who lacked experience would never win a fight. That was something he was painfully aware of, carefully letting the tightly-bound bun-like hair fall free so that the shoulder-length locks flowed freely. It wasn't a normal look in the slightest, with his buzzed short hair almost awfully backdropping it, but to expand his fighting skills, he would have to rely on everything... and one's hair was more a part of them than the sash he wore.
"Here's hoping this place has some stronger fighters willing to enter this arena... otherwise I might be going home without anything worth talking about."
PL: 5,000
Let's-a-go =3=/ think of the room as a giant, dome-like shape similar in shape to the gravity room of capsule corp.
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Post by Kalaboo on Feb 21, 2018 13:36:00 GMT -6
The night was dark, unpleasant with its likeness to the crepuscular stillness of Vegeta. So great was Kalabas' sadness that he had to cease his compulsive promenading; no longer did an ill-defined quest inflame his heart with the searing blaze of hatred, or the values he had been groomed to adore serve as a beacon of hope with which he could differentiate what mattered and what did not. As it stood, a prosperous and magnificent Vegeta was no more real or doable than shaping a planet into a humanoid form, although more than a few notable souls would certainly argue to differ if given the chance to escape Yemma's otherworldly shackles. Fanciful musings aside, the saiyan blamed himself for this newfound lethargy. Too much meandering, coupled with too little action, had instilled a wicked apathy that could only be curbed with a rousing combat. Combat which he sought after for a good portion of the evening. Time and time again, he entered gyms and dark alleyways, bars and brothels, in hopes of meeting someone willing to punch his face into mushy red paste. Alas, the ferocity of the saiyans was known to the people of Satan City, who either avoided Kally's presence or ignored him altogether. Fools! How could the people of Earth be so heartless and duplicitous? It took some effort, but the fool eventually found a gym of his liking, one that abounded with alien gizmos and marble statues of the mustachioed man beaming with pride and confidence. Taking into account just how omnipresent the character was, the saiyan deduced he had been a prophet of sorts, and that Satan City was erected in his honor. Kalabas could only wonder just how mighty the earthling was in life, and whether his spirit still protected the planet from sinister forces. An example to be followed by all of those who longed for a life of strife and battle. Even among the toned gym-goers, the saiyan stood out like a sore thumb. He was muscular and tall, a fine specimen of a fine warrior race. In an effort to carry on with his search in peace, Kalabas scowled and frowned, the dark circles under his eyes lending an outright villainous look to an otherwise aristocratic and dignified face. The mob of burly men and burlier women gave way as the saiyan passed by, fearing that he would strike them down like his long-forgotten ancestors. With ease, Kalabas found his way to a giant room, crowned by a dome that rose high enough to allow for some fight. The saiyan, maintaining the false mask of macabre intent, rose his voice at the youth he'd later call an... acquaintance, probably, "Young man, is this where your kind clashes fists and wits?"PL: 6299
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Post by Ronin Sashouka on Feb 23, 2018 6:47:53 GMT -6
"Hmph." Ronin briefly paused and allowed his eyes to open and the emeralds to glaze over the figure. "You would be unwise to mistake youth as simply finding places to throw down. Places like this exist because of older fighters who need a place to keep their skills honed."
Gyms, to his knowledge, were the modern dojo. Unlike dojos, where the young came to fight and study, gyms were places to remain and improve one's shape. Where a dojo was for anyone, the gyms seemed best fit for the elders than the youth. It was a place where technique wasn't important, but refining and building strength was. In short, while people threw punches, it wasn't for any other purpose than for youthful mimicry and drive to achieve that rush of youthful energy all over again. Perhaps that was the reason most of his fights had been with people who felt punch-drunk and too focused on their muscles. An agile martial artist didn't come to gyms for any other reason than to test the practical nature of their fighting against those who normally only thought they could fight. His right hand reached to his sash to first recover the band, then up and backward whilst the left squeezed and quickly tightened his hair up in coordination. In a flash, Sashouka's hair was once more in the familiar bun... and the martial artist pushed the button behind him that locked his door. Places like this were intended to support small numbers of fighters, so locking in would at least keep anyone from barging in behind him.
But there wasn't going to be any further patience. After all, there was no way to detect the strength of his foe. Waiting around meant he would only be punished with an attack. Left hand arcing back, he formed a simple orb of ki and lobbed it outward and across the open space toward the stranger. There wasn't even a need to exchange names, in an arena of combat there was time only to speak through one's attacks. Ronin had to show himself that he could do more than lose... even if it meant changing a normally defensive fighting mentality into an aggressive and dangerous knife of an attack-stance. Thrusting the right hand forward as the orb sailed onward, he fired another hot on its heels. Simple ki strikes were the best way to strike at a distant foe, as they were as solid as any punch. Both might have lacked the refinement and killing power of a proper ki technique, but the fiery orange-red orbs were apt for starting a fight.
I was informed we're unfortunately not going to be joined by Brock. So here's to a 1v1-style, I 'spose.
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Post by Kalaboo on Feb 25, 2018 19:19:23 GMT -6
Considering that Kalabas was fully endowed with at least above average intelligence and observation skills, he was somewhat surprised that the youth answered to a question he had not made. Did the strange creature not understand that the saiyan meant whether this was a proper arena or not? Alas, having a rhetorical question so unnecessarily and hastily answered left a sour taste in the young man’s mouth as he considered approaching the teenager, making no secret of his discombobulation.
Fortunately, Kalabas was no stranger to the usage of gyms as a means to hone his mind and body. After all, he was a saiyan, and therefore genetically predisposed to find such places havens worthy of attention and praise. He did not understand, however, why Sash was acting with unrequited hostility, but was there even a reason to bother at all?
As the door behind him locked, Kalabas let out a sibilant wheeze to voice his lack of interest in the “fight”. He knew not who he faced, nor was he concerned with unveiling the identity of the belligerent idiot, he was simply not going to fight a stranger who addressed nobility with a complete disregard to the societal norms that bind the lesser races into a servitude under the banner of the great saiyan race.
As unimpressive orange balls sped at moderate speed, the saiyan merely crossed both arms and braced himself for the impact. He could not care less about offending his forced opponent, as no earlier statements related to the rules and code of honourable conduct were shared between either.
The begrudging participant dodged the blasts by merely flying upwards, in equal parts frustrated and unamused. "Listen here, you spastic eggplant. I am of far too high status to leave this tomfoolery be. I am not your schoolmate, nor am I an earthling. I am a saiyan, and a noble to boot. You are yet another misaimed vagrant who mistakes errs with willingness to be punched in the face. Make amends for your transgressions and I might consider humoring this martial wish of yours. Proceed this crass assault and I shall notify the authorities."
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Post by Ronin Sashouka on Feb 26, 2018 10:09:13 GMT -6
The exploding ki orbs weren't intended for much, Sashouka walking across the arena toward the noisy male. The eggplant line failed to land, on account of Sashouka never having eaten or even seen one to identify the name. The talk about this one being a Saiyan and a noble, however, that he did know. Not too long ago, Sashouka had met a Saiyan woman named Vegia, after all. And now, the sash-wearing warrior had a chance to fight another... and that alone was like an invitation to battle unlike any ki strike or foolish taunt. But all the fancy talk was lost on Sashouka, not from a lack of understanding but a preference to simply not care for one word of it. Pleasantries weren't for the battlefield, nor for the fighting ring.
"A noble Saiyan... then you just might hit like Vegia of Karo. Good." Ki flowed out, the arena buzzing as the windows sensed the climbing ki as some natural defense measures kicked in to secure the room and prevent damage to the dojo outside. The glass of the viewing ports doubled up, onlookers looking in as the martial artist engulfed himself in the fiery, orange glow of his own ki with a smirk. Vegia's actions had given him a good assessment for a tool to provoke responses out of Saiyans, after all. Both of his hands opened up, forming two more ki orbs as the man planted both feet nearly ten feet from his own door and now quite a good bit closer. This was a distance where throwing something might be too easily read, so it was more for preparing for the first move. A pointblank ki blast could help elude trouble as well as an open-hand, or even meet another blast head-on and prevent anything further.
"Are you going to step up and face me in open combat, or are you going to make like an Arcosian?"
The statement was fairly open ended, given that the purple-haired man had little true knowledge about the species. Just the insinuation had set off Vegia before and led her to aiming a punch into the sensei's jaw. Her strength was enough that it got him antsy and willing to come out and test himself. Saiyans were invoking an inner lust for battle that lay beneath the warrior's calm and technique. And now, bending his knees and hunching forward ever so slightly in a wide defensive posture, Sashouka wanted to calm that lust with either a victory or a defeat. It was time to emulate the same sensation he acquired from facing Mal and Misuji... it was time to win or lose a fight that got the young man further enthusiastic about winning a victory.
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Post by Ronin Sashouka on Mar 4, 2018 18:06:38 GMT -6
Going to go ahead and end this here. Kalabas has been MIA and not responded to a PM sent a few days ago, so I'm doing this to open up the slot for others.
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