|
|
Post by Boryoku on Jan 5, 2021 20:12:14 GMT -6
The North City, a place Boryoku had few memories in. The predecessor rarely if ever visited here, but the memories he did have were just frustrating to think about. Amara had told him to venture here first, as Mumbo was expecting him. Whatever he had in mind made Boryoku nervous. He didn't want to see Mumbo, nor did he wish to come face to face with the past.
His eyes stared at the firehouse that was their hideout. The demon growling low as he did so. He could run now, disappear forever and never be found. But he hated the thought of not being more than Sensoa. After a minute of hesitation, Boryoku walked through the front door and came to a stop at the door. His eyes searching for Mumbo.
PL 116,000
|
|
|
|
Post by Majin Mumbo on Jan 12, 2021 3:19:32 GMT -6
Thread Power Level: 130,000
Mumbo sneered. A sick feeling dropped into his gut like a two-ton weight. It came from a familiar scent. The kind you couldn't ever forget. Disgusting and infuriating and altogether unpleasant. It was like rotten eggs, but Mumbo actually didn't mind the smell of rotten eggs. They were evil, you see, so rotten eggs had a purpose in the world. This? This... Error of life? It was worse than that. Like expired coupons or a refund that doesn't work at this particular branch of the store.
With an angered growl, Mumbo dropped from the rafters of the firehouse, looming in front of Boryoku as he entered.
"You."
This was Sensoa's kin. Amara called ahead; told him something lame was coming, but this was worse than he expected. It didn't just smell like him, he looked so similar. His Ki even felt the same. Talk about infuriating! It was like hearing a song on the radio that reminds you of an ex, or ordering your favorite meal only for them to spit in your food. He was the living embodiment of the failing Villain soceity.
He had half a mind to knock him into the stratosphere, but he waited, if only briefly.
"Whaddya want, Chump?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Boryoku on Jan 13, 2021 18:35:19 GMT -6
Boryoku didn't flinch as Mumbo stood before him, the Majin the same height as he was. While surprised he wasn't frightened, but it felt bad being here. He was sure Mumbo felt the same way, the majin disliked Sensoa immensely. He knew this was a bad idea, like someone walking into a snakes den expecting to not get bitten. Yet here he was, standing before Mumbo like a solid fool. Why had he done this again? Boryoku had to pause to think as to why he was being such a complete idiot but... He wasn't his predecessor.
"I..."
Boryoku faltered as he looked to the side, anger in his eyes but hesitation in his actions.
"I am not him... Whatever bad blood you had and he had... Its not my business! I came here because Amara told me too! I have no issues with you..."
Boryoku stated matter of fact before shrugging and sighing heavily.
"Look... I get it, you despise my predecessor... Sensoa. I understand that sentiment more than you know..."
With that Boryoku began to pace, fists clenched and head looking at the floor as he began to speak.
"Amara told me to come here... to get stronger... to teach me. I refuse to be a copy of someone and its hard enough that people hate me because of the fact I am a broken off piece of him... I won't pretend I don't have his 'issues' nor that I am not just like him in some regards. But I..."
Boryoku would throw his hands up, rage boiled in his veins, hands gesturing this way and that as he tried to talk. He was talking with his hands, nervous like a kid trying to explain to an adult something important.
"But... But I am part of him, and I have his memories... I have a lot of things inside that are similar, but I'm not him! So You..."
Boryoku then gestured to Mumbo, briefly looking at him before returning his gaze to the floor. His nervousness now playing into his actions. Mumbo's crew had killed Sensoa after all, and he was in their den. He was afraid, and he hated to admit it. He had only been alive for a few days and here he was... in a den of killers. He was not a good person, but he was still trying to figure out where he stood in all of this.
"You lot won... You killed him, and I'm glad for that... But I don't even know who I am beyond my name. I don't know where he begins or he ends within me. So... I'm... I'm asking you to teach me... I'm asking the Star goons to teach me their ways to be different than the one who came before. I want to be my own person... Teach me what evil means."
Boryoku's face was red as a cherry, both of embarrassment and shame. Boryoku, son of Sensoa the demon of war, asking someone else to teach him how to be evil... He despised the idea he was that demon's fragment, son, whatever you wished to call Boryoku, he despised it immensely. He didn't like the stargoons, but not out of personal spite... He was struggling within to become his own person among-st a sea of influencing thoughts and feelings. Despite this embarrassment, Boryoku stood firm yet didn't make eye contact with Mumbo. He felt as if he looked at Mumbo the pride he held would shatter into a million pieces. He wanted to be his own person but in order to do that he had to do things that only he would do. Not what Sensoa would do.
It was difficult, so much so he was visibly shaking from the feelings within. He was unsure if he could tolerate his own shame at this rate.
PL: 116,000
|
|
|
|
Post by Majin Mumbo on Jan 27, 2021 19:44:13 GMT -6
"Tch. I know you's ain't him you dope. I can smell da difference a mile away."
Mumbo listened to Boryoku's sad tale with passing interest. Anyone born of Sensoa was bad news; point blank period. Even still, the Majin did have a soft spot for potential evil. Helping it blossom into full villainy was part of his job- doubly so with Maple being gone for so long. Maybe he'd give this kid a chance. Not like he was gonna be talked out of some grand plan again, right? Irony isn't that cruel.
For a time, the mighty monster simply stared. Processing the request as best he could. He was on a good path, at least a better one than his pops. Maybe he had potential...
"Evil ain't a fad, yknow. It's a lifestyle; a choice you make every day when you wake up. You don't get ta sing karaoke wit da same dopes you're tryna kill, geddit? If you wanna do dis, you godda be in a hundred poicent. I don't want no buts or ifs or what-abouts. If you want ta know what I can teach ya, den you needa be in it all da way."
Was it even that simple? To some it certainly was. Mumbo had never had to teach evil before now; he'd only ever lived it firsthand. But if Boryoku wanted to learn, he'd try his best. Evil was floundering in the modern age, and they needed every able-bodied dork who walked through the doors.
Regardless of Boryoku's answer, Mumbo would turn away and walk into the firehouse, flicking a lightswitch to brighten up the room. It was a bit dingy, all things considered, but yet it somehow exuded an air of professionalism. The long and dented leather couch in the corner of the front office, sitting opposite a wall-mounted TV coated in a fine layer of dust, ran contrast to the surprisingly fresh coat of calming teal paint and brand-new water cooler near the front door. There was a small partition separating the main office from the waiting room they currently resided in. The office held only a single desk with a miniature fridge whirring away on the back wall, sitting precariously close to a set of stairs that led both upstairs and down.
Mumbo gestured for his new apprentice to take a seat.
"Why don't we staht with what you do know? What does bein' evil mean to a chump like you?"
|
|
