Duran was scouring through a pile of scrap metal in the outskirts of the ruins when it happened.
A sudden beeping from his artifical eye alerted his senses and made the Cyborg stand to his full height. His internal Scouter warned him of a vessel suddenly entering Plant's atmosphere, almost directly above his current location. Duran felt a chill run down his spine as the distant rumbling of a spacecraft muffledly echoed through the streets.
He looked up to see it's trajectory, and hesitantly assumed that it was headed straight for a ransacked Tuffle town near the outskirts of the decrepit Capitol. Uncertain of what was to come, Duran knew he couldn't leave anything to chance and felt obligated to head toward the vessel's destination.
While the previous two people he encountered within the Ruins held no ill will, there was no saying if that track record would be broken or not. Third time's the charm, after all.
And so Duran blasted off into the sky, Ki roaring wildly around him as he blitzed over dozens of destroyed Tuffle settlements. With his sights glued onto the incoming vessel, his heart thumped harder and harder as it fell down, the rumbling growing louder and louder.
Eventually Duran found himself in an empty square, surrounded by crumbling buildings and destroyed Tuffle technology. A thin fog of Destron rolled down the streets, cloaking the concrete at his feet in a sheen of purple.
With bated breath, Duran looked up at the blazing skies, and awaited the arrival of his surprise guest. Duran's PL: 58,100 (51,500 + 6,600 from Fusion) Items: Scouter, Destron machine, Minions+Shell
Thread PL: 180,000 | Items: Blood Ruby Pendant, Scouter, Battle Armor "Planet Vegeta," Amara spat aloud, vehemence for her home planet still high. With an exception for the likes of Kayen - who she couldn't even start to fathom why they ruled THIS planet - Vegeta and most other Saiyans here disgusted her. So great was her distaste that this trip was the first time she'd entered its' atmosphere in over thirty years... and at the request of someone she couldn't just ignore. Most of Amara's bad memories still clung to the hunk of space rock like fetid, rotting meat. Parental abuse, military academy, meeting the man who would one day ruin everything she had... all of it started here. At least the meeting place wasn't in one of the cities. The Destron-mired streets of Tuffle ruins weren't exactly pleasant, but the Stargoon much preferred them over having to deal with any mass number of monkeys.
Her masked helmet was already equipped, set to filter out any stray particles of the foul gas that tried to worm into her lungs. The scouter module on said mask, however, was off. Amara had forgotten to turn it on during the flight over, and so relying only on natural sensing... a certain android below still held the element of surprise on her. To be fair to the Yellow Star, she was entirely encased in her armored suit. No distinguishing bodily features could really be made out about her whatsoever, so unless Duran could recognize the star - emblazoned on the front of her suit - Amara's anonymity was protected. Landing her craft with impatience over precision, Amara hopped out and marched over to a half-destroyed building nearby, slinking inside. "You better have a damn good reason for requesting a meeting like this," The woman immediately growled upon stepping inside, a ball of crackling golden ki already formed.
The recipient of the threat chuckled weakly, harsh breaths amplified by a filtration mask placed over their mouth. "Is that how you greet your mother, Amara?" The Stargoon scoffed as she brought the ball of energy closer to the other Saiyan. "Spare me, Arsna. I could atomize you into particles so small they couldn't even recover your ashes, so allow me to ask again. Why the Hell did you want to speak with me? Why now, and why in a place like THIS on this gods-forsaken planet?" Arsna held up her hands in an attempt to placate her estranged daughter. "Yes, yes... first things first, did you make sure we aren't being shadowed?" Amara snorted, head shaking. "I didn't sense anyone or anything on the way here. People don't tend to hang around Destron pockets like these."
As the vessel haphazardly landed onto the cracked surface, Duran slipped into the shadow of a crumbled tower. He cautiously peeked his head out from behind a wall as the door to the spacecraft opened. What stepped out piqued Duran's interest even more; An individual clad in bright-yellow armor, facial features hidden behind a protective helmet and mask. He noted the large star on their chest, but besides thinking it was an odd decoration, it rang zero bells within the Cyborg's head.
What did surprise him however, was that the armored individual immediately disappeared into the shadows of a broken building. Such a thing couldn't have been happenstance; They had to have had a purpose.
Duran grumbled in thought. Just what were they here for? These decrepit ruins offered little of value...Odd.
Silently, Duran appeared from behind the wall and took off into the air. He flew up toward a breach in the wall of the building his surprise guest disappeared into. With a barely audible noise, Duran stopped within the breach, balancing on the thin wall as he looked down.
Surprisingly, there was someone else in the building- an older-looking Saiyan woman. The armor-clad stranger immediately held an orb of sizzling, powerful Ki toward her face...It seemed they knew eachother.
Duran kept eavesdropping with an intrigued glare. A sudden reveal from the older Saiyan woman revealed she was the armored stranger's mother...Which could only mean one thing.
Despite the terrifying power the armored Saiya-jin showed, Duran felt compelled to do something. He couldn't stand by as two Saiyans roamed his home. Disregarding the hostility to eachother, it seemed that they didn't hold any further malicious intent to the Ruins. They likely thought this place was abandoned...
''They don't tend to, no.'' Duran suddenly announced his own presence from above. The towering Cyborg leapt down toward the two Saiyans and exchanged a grim glance with them. ''-But some still call this hellish place their home.'' His tone made it obvious that he was hinting toward himself.
With a displeased look, Duran glanced at the yellow-clad Saiyan. ''I don't particularly care for what you do to her, but your presence here isn't welcome.'' He spoke with an honest, cold tone before turning to the older Saiyan woman. ''And neither is yours.'' Some manner of venom seeped into Duran's tone as he adressed them. He didn't bother to explain why- to him it felt obvious as to why a Saiyan wasn't welcome in the area their ancestors committed genocide in. Surely there were more places where they could discuss their private matters. It didn't matter to him what ended up happening to either of them, as long as they stopped trespassing on his home.
''I'd really appreciate it if you two would leave and take this elsewhere.'' Duran motioned toward the blown-open 'entrance' of the crumbled building with a disgruntled tone.
''The Saiba wastes aren't far. I doubt anyone would care if something were to happen there.'' Amara
Last Edit: Aug 26, 2020 16:06:46 GMT -6 by Duran: taggg
Amara turned to face the intruder without any sense of urgency, tilting her head at the obvious mechanical nature of him. "A robot, huh." Placing a finger to her helmet, Amara fiddled for a moment before the built-in scouter finally activated, suddenly blaring a warning about a nearby power level. "Not welcome, hm?" She seemed unfazed by the threat entirely. "On what grounds? These are ruins. Considered part of the wastes rather than any territory one can trespass on." Asrna took on a grimace, pointing a finger at Duran. "I know your type, freak. Also skulking about on our planet... well my kin may call me crazy but I knew it to be true! A living Tuffle!!" Amara gave her mother a short glare. "A what?" The word held no meaning to the Stargoon at all. Amara was barely aware of Vegeta's basic culture, let alone tales of wars from long ago.
"Cretins from ages bygone that we got rid of. The vile Destron Gas and creations like this are all that's left of them. It's partly why I called you here... kill it and you and your mercenary friends can have the remainder of our wealth." Well, this situation got weird fast. "And you called... me here to deal with some ancient android or something why? There's some sort of 'beef' between him and Saiyans for whatever reason but that type of shit doesn't concern me. I don't consider myself to really be a Saiyan after what you've done." Arsna scoffed in return. "Does that matter? I assumed the pricepoint would be enough for you to enact a job." Amara shrugged. "Usually, yeah, but for you, I'm making a special case. Not just anybody can hire a Stargoon."
Duran held his tongue for a moment, a dark grimace covering his features as he let the two 'intruders' speak. The yellow-clad Saiyan didn't seem keen on taking up Duran's offer to leave, which he almost protested to then and there, but silencing himself allowed the older Saiyan to speak up with a curious little revelation.
She pointed toward Duran, painting him one of the 'Tuffle cretins' that skulked the Ruins. Venom seeped into her words as she adressed Duran, coaxing her daughter to destroy him for what could only be a hefty sum of money.
As unamused as Duran was, so too was the armored Saiyan. Duran's grimace darted toward her, then back to the older Saiyan. If she lacked any interest to attack Duran, maybe he could use it to finally lead them out of here. As much as he despised their people, he'd rather not get into a fight with the yellow-clad one. Her power would be too much for him to handle, he knew for sure.
''Are you insane?'' Duran spat insultedly as he glared toward the older Saiyan woman. He stepped forward until he was only inches removed from her, towering over her with a piercing glare casting down. ''Ever paid attention in history classes, you wench?'' Duran allowed his full hatred to seep into his words, which may have been a bad idea seeing as her daughter was standing right next to them. However, Duran felt it nearly impossible to keep his cool in the face of one of these Saiyan supremists.
''Tuffles were said to look like small Earthlings, frail and tiny...'' Duran leaned down slightly, casting a dark shadow over the Saiyan. ''If anything, you'd look more Tuffle than any of us here, we'd just have to rip off that tail.'' The Cyborg threatened in a low hiss.
He raised his metallic hand, giant in comparison to the smaller Saiyan, and hovered it above her head. ''Could a Tufflle pop your head like a grape simply by clenching their fist...?'' He paused, and removed his hand. ''I didn't think so.''
Duran clicked his tongue in resentment as he stepped back, positioning himself between the two Saiyans, far enough to signal that he wasn't really looking for trouble.
''The Tuffles are dead. I simply call this place my home. What the other Saiyans did to me is unforgivable, and so I resent them.'' He explained flatly, sprinkling in some lies that slipped into his words seamlessly. There was some truth to his words, yet if Duran were to avert suspicion, he had to keep up a facade.
He turned to the armored Saiyan, glare softening. ''You share that sentiment, from what I can understand. Apologies.'' He forced the words out, feeling sick to his stomach that he had to apologize to a Saiyan. A necessary evil.
''However, I still urge you two to leave and settle this in private. You're disturbing my peace.'' No KP used, brrrrr
Amara shifted slightly as Duran approached the other Saiyan, fully prepared to intervene in a flash if the android attempted any sort of violence. Arsna seemed unaffected by the man's proximity, returning his glare full force. "And my ancestors believed that for a time, too," She snapped back. "Thinking them weak and nonaggressive, they sat back. Content to let the Tuffles keep their sector of the planet... but oh what a mistake that was. Did you ever wonder why Destron gas and their parasites were so advanced? Because they had plenty of times to develop it... in order to try and wipe us out first." The woman vaguely gestured all around them and even to the mask on her face. "They were the ones who poisoned this land, committed foul acts of terror, forced their ways into the minds of our kin-! Yet everyone else on Vegeta had never heard these stories... but I know the truth. The Tuffles got what they deserved, but apparently the Saiyans of long ago weren't nearly thorough enough!"
The Stargoon stepped in, creating space between Duran and Arsna in case the android snapped. "Enough, Arsna. Leave it be. Even if what you said was true, I don't see a way for what seems to be a Saiyan-built machine to suddenly enact mass revenge in the name of a long-dead race." She didn't exactly like or trust the stranger in the room either, but Amara had not yet decided which route she wished to take. "Buddy," Amara snorted as if Duran had told a joke "I've done a lot worse for a lot less than disturbing the peace. I'm not going anywhere until I actually decided what to do in regards to this whole case..." It was strange almost. Amara, before meeting the Stargoons, was a full mercenary. If that Amara had come to this meeting she probably would've accepted the job. Yet now?
"Tell me, machine, what is your name?" He'd failed to say it this whole time, but undoubtedly was aware of the two Saiyans'. "If I decide you aren't worth my time when I've finished asking questions, I'll leave. Just let me make one thing clear... I very much hate blatant liars. If I discover you twisting or obscuring the truth from me, I'll gladly take that head from your shoulders." Leaning back, Amara scratched her chin in mock thought. "At the same time, I'm sure you're dying to know more about me. For every question you answer, I'll answer one of yours in return... probably. No promises on my end that I'll spill beans if I don't want to."
Duran mentally spat at the older woman's reply, casting aside her outlandish blabbering of the Tuffle's evil intentions and diabolical inventions. All things produced due to the fear and violence the Saiyans struck them with, but Duran digressed. He simply allowed Amara to step in, as he himself stepped back, scoffing audibly.
''Fine,'' Duran annoyedly let out in response to Amara not intending to leave just yet. ''I suppose I've been dragged into this too much at this point, anyway.'' The Cyborg groaned, glancing daggers at Arsna for just a moment. The older woman's insane blathering resonated with Duran in the strangest way. It was like he met an older, more cynical version of himself- yet simply from the other spectrum. He could easily see himself prattling something insane like that about the Saiyans. But for him, it was justified. Right...?
Duran focussed his attention back to Amara, nodding faintly at her proposal. ''Very well,'' Duran replied, his tone clearly implying that he didn't feel particularly threatened by Amara. Duran leaned back, letting his back thud against the concrete wall behind him. He leaned a foot against it, and crossed his arms. ''This might be interesting, so why not?''
''It's Duran. Pleasure.'' It snaked his way out of his mouth with an all too obvious sarcasm. For a moment, the Cyborg pondered what he could ask Amara tthat was actually worth anything. He hummed inwardly, eyes slowly dragging toward the large yellow star on her chest. What was it she said she was part of? The Stargoons? What a childish name for someone trying to be so intimidating...
Awful naming conventions aside, it was likely Duran's best bet at getting to know something relevant.
''What did you say you were one of? The Stargoons?'' Duran asked for certainty, although he already knew the answer to that part.
''What kind of group is that? I assume someone of your strength doesn't just hang around with some lousy pushovers. I believe I've heard mention of it before, but never any details.'' He paused. ''...Might as well get them from the source, correct?''
The Cyborg allowed a clear silence to hang in the air for a while to give Amara the chance to ponder his question. Afterwards, Duran gestured toward her offhandedly, surprisingly seeming quite intrigued in keeping these little interviews going.
''Alright, I suppose it's your turn now. You must be dying to know something, so what will it be?'' No KP used Amara
The duo exited the crumbling former house, stepping out unto the dilapidated streets of the old Tuffle city. "...Heh, you probably won't like hearing this but man you two sounded basically the same to me." Amara stretched idly, uncaring if she had offended the robot or not. "I try not to get myself entrenched in grudges like that... though it's your life. Live it how you want to." To be frank, both Duran and Arsna aggravated Amara to no end with their species-wide disdain. So what if a monkey ten thousand years ago decided to ice the Tuffles? Amara certainly didn't have anything to fucking do with it. And some sort of sympathizing robot living in solitude among the ruins wasn't worthy of scorn either. What was he gonna do, go attack Cacumber Capital? At lest he introduced himself, regardless of the tone or nature of their conversation. "Amara, but you knew that already I'd bet." The phrase wasn't spoken out of arrogance but rather resignation, as if her name being popular was a fact she wouldn't be pleased with.
"'Sentai Space Pirates of Evil' would be the old tagline... but that was under Maple, whose long gone. A bit of organizational shuffling later and you have the current group. Essentially color-coded mercs who have special medallions that grant us boons and whatnot. Not tied to our own fighting capability at all - but a flavor gig that helps us stand out. I'd say I'm one of the stronger members, but all of us are in the same general ballpark." It was information vague and public enough to not reveal anything too critical to this stranger, but enough to fill him in on key parts that were missing. At least he kept his end of the deal - which Amara took him up on: "So were you a Saiyan before all those body mods? And just hold old of a Saiyan are you? I know mechanical enhancements can greatly slow aging, so for all I know you could be three-hundred."
Duran stifled a rebellious laugh; Guess they really did sound a bit alike, huh?
Well, he wasn't about to admit to anything of the sort, prideful as he was. The Cyborg remained silent, letting his silence speak for itself in regards to their 'pretty' grudges. She'd probably get the clue anyway. This 'Amara' seemed to be a bit more clever and quick-witted than most Saiyans Duran has run into.
All of that aside, the topic slipped back to Duran's question as they left the ruined building and stepped out into the destron-filled streets. Considering Duran had literally been living under a rock for over two thousand years, he had no idea what a 'Stargoon' was, let alone that they were actually fairly popular. Most of the details went over his head, although he did understand the core of what Amara was explaining.
Evil mercenaries with some fancy, colour-coded hocus pocus flair.
Duran had to actively refrain from chuckling. A grizzled Saiyan like her, going around in a coloured suit with her colour-coded 'Goon' buddies. It sounded pretty ridiculous to Duran. ''So I guess that makes you the yellow goon?'' His brow tilted up as he glanced at Amara, a very sharp observation indeed.
Well, evil or not, atleast Amara wasn't a part of the Vegetan Saiyan army. There wasn't a bigger evil in Duran's eyes. Although he had to admit, he troubled himself trying to comprehend that all of her fellow 'goons' were in the same ballpark of power. Even if the colour-coding shtick was inherently silly, having a group of insanely powerful, evil mercs roam the galaxy... It sounded pretty terrifying.
On to Amara's question, which was admittedly a tough one. Duran inhaled sharply as he looked to the skies; Although he didn't feel particularly threatened by Amara anymore, he was still cautious in revealing too much of his past.
''Always been Saiyan.'' Duran admitted, lifting up his weaponized arm. ''This thing doesn't change any of that. Never will, either.'' Cautiously chosen words, spoken so casually that it was unsure if he was hiding anything else. His muddled Tsufuru-Saiyajin blood will forever remain a secret. Or hopefully, atleast for now.
Much to the Cyborg's surprise, Amara was able to piece together that Duran could be much older than he appeared to be. ''You're pretty sharp, Amara.'' He admitted. Did he just compliment her, a Saiyan? Strange. It happened so naturally, too... Duran grumbled inwardly. Setting the thought aside for now, he continued.
''I probably am that old, to be honest. Can't even remember.'' Duran's tone was cynical. Years of intensive training had made him well-versed in deceit, in case he'd ever be captured by the enemy. He pondered for a moment, then continued. ''I was deployed with my squad to silence a rebellious force on some offshoot, backwater planet. Got blind-sided, and woke up like this. It's a long story. Memory's too hazy to remember the details...'' Duran snorted cynically. ''Losing most of your vital functions tends to do that to you.''
He forwarded his fabricated story to Amara, hoping to whatever he could cling to that she'd believe him, or atleast not suspect him.
''...I'm curious, Amara.'' Duran turned his head to face the armored Saiyan, a genuinely curious look in his eye. ''Why do you detest this planet? The people that live here? It's a feeling we share, so I can't help but ask.'' The Cyborg paused. ''Feel free to ask the same, it's only fair.'' Amara
Last Edit: Sept 10, 2020 4:34:53 GMT -6 by Duran: reeee
"Yellow 'Star'," Amara corrected absentmindedly. "It might sound ridiculous... but underestimate a squadron of super-powered individuals with the backing of an ancient Demon God and you'll regret it." The whole Twobit thing was still a bit of a mystery to her. The entity was apparently the grandpappy of the Stargoons, and a shard of his magic was contained within each of their medallions. She didn't draw actual power from it - simply the ability to do a costume change. Maple, the original Purple Star and founder of this sect, was long gone. And with him went the chance to possibly gain more of Twobit's support. Duran on his end seemed to relax the more they spoke. This was a boon and a bane, firstly being that he'd be more likely to actually share information... but at the same time, it inherently showed that he was no longer viewing Amara as a real threat. A tad bit insulting!
Amara nodded along as Duran spoke. She didn't entirely believe anything that came out of his mouth to be perfectly honest - after all, it seemed his entire life to this point had been rooted in self-perpetuating propaganda and distrust. What reason did he have to spill any actual secrets to a Saiyan? If he claimed his heritage to be straightforward, she'd just have to take it at face value for now. They came to the topic of his apparent age, of which the android was quick to compliment her for even partially deducing it. "I'd like to think it was mostly common sense, but knowing most of the people around on this planet... yeah, was probably a smarter question than usual." She commented dryly, fully convinced that her 'fellow Saiyans' wouldn't have bothered to ask such a thing. He claimed to not know how old he was, but rather that he was just 'possibly' very old.
Duran seemed interested in the reason behind her own distaste for Saiyans as a whole and Vegeta. While it wasn't exactly private information that she wished to be kept secret, such a topic rarely came up so forming thoughts into coherent strings of words took a bit longer than usual. "Where would you like me to start? The part where my younger siblings got culled for being too weak, or when I was essentially sold into the military as a toddler because I had 'potential' and my parents wanted the money?" She snorted derisively, anger boiling just a bit as the Saiyan recalled such horrid memories. "Then of course we have your average Saiyan: a dumb brutish thug with a penchant for violence and undying loyalty to the crown. It may seem like there are a lot of Super Saiyans running around these days, but that number is fractionally small compared to the masses of dirty, unintelligent footsoldiers Vegeta houses."
Perhaps he expected her to ask the same back at him, but Amara had something else in mind. "...Say, what powers you?" The Saiyan asked suddenly, glancing over at the android. "It's not a normal infinite energy core, I know that much, and from what I can glean on Vegeta Saiyan scientists don't exactly make cutting-edge synth bodies either. In fact if you were a natural-born Saiyan who has an age unknown... well, there aren't exactly too many options on where you'd get such a body from." Not like a backwater would be liable to have such advanced tech, either. A small planet might've been able to cobble together a working hunk of metal, but Duran's body was still pristine and in full working order. You needed an expert roboticist to create parts that could interface so perfectly with flesh and blood, nevermind the fact that it had endured for potentially hundreds of years.
A squad of super-powered fighters backed by a Demon God.
Well, if you put it that way, it really did sound a lot more imposing than it seemed on paper. ''I can imagine.'' He chuckled out offhandedly. Duran knew not to mess with people that held Amara's power, no matter how they looked or what their 'gimmick' might've been. Power was absolute, and those without would always be inferior to those with.
In the back of his mind, Duran pondered just why he felt strangely at ease in this situation that was essentially an interrogation. Was it really because he felt a connection due to their shared distaste for Vegeta? Or was he simply letting himself believe he was at ease so he could spin his web of lies without effort? Duran doubted he'd get an answer anytime soon.
What fueled Amara's distaste was...Expected, which was a sad discovery. The war-like society of Vegeta was dark and twisted. The weak were treated as less, and the strong thrived. Step out of line once, and you could kiss your future farewell. ''They itch to eliminate the smart soldiers; The ones that realize they're being used.'' Duran scoffed, obviously hinting toward Amara herself. ''People that share the will to not be turned into a mindless weapon, to serve the crown, are meaningless. They're a threat to Vegeta.''
Venom seeped into Duran's words as he explained his view on Saiyan society. Granted, Duran did not know much about the Kingdom, but his brief visit to their streets and the scattered bits of information he often found were enough to give him a solid view. Duran was adamant in his beliefs that Saiyan society hadn't changed in those 2000 years.
When Duran expected Amara's question to come, he had already prepared himself to tell her of his reasons for hating Vegeta. Ultimately, the Yellow Stargoon blindsided him with a completely different question. ''What powers me?'' Duran parroted, furrowing his brow for a brief moment.
Once the question actually simmered in his mind, Duran sighed out. He had no reason to hide the truth on this one. ''I am powered by what you see around you.'' Duran explained, raising his weaponized arm. He amplified it with the slightest bit of power, causing thin lines of Destron Gas to seep out of the gaps within the metal plating. ''Destron.''
He lowered his cannon, and continued his explanation. ''I was an experiment, to see if they could use Destron to power an Android.'' Duran looked to Amara. ''The experiment was a success, on paper.''
Growing silent for a moment, Duran gestured toward the empty streets around them, and the noxious fumes that swept the streets. How many hateful, malicious souls of the deceased Tuffles roamed these streets? Thousands. More than he could ever count. ''Do you know what Destron truly is? It's malice given form, harnessed and turned into a toxic gas.'' Duran paused. ''My entire body is fueled by this malice; I think you can imagine what that does to someone's psyche...''
He turned back to Amara, practically answering two questions at once.
''That is why I resent them. They made me into what I am now.'' Amara