A Story from the Past: P-Sta's Adventure in Seal Town
[I]At some point during P-Sta's time on Earth...[/I]
"A new report from GP Headquarters...." P-Sta stated aloud to himself. "Another dangerous criminal spotted on Earth! And luckily I happen to be in the visinity to catch him...now let's see..." he said, taking a moment to draw out his datapad and look ups information on the suspect. "Ah, Violi...Don of Parmeesian crime syndicate...and the sole member to have escaped arrest when the we raided their last base of operations a couple months ago..."
Little did the mob boss know....a tracker had been placed upon him just before he haves the Galaxy Police the slip. P-Sta flew around, a hand over his head as he found his eventual destination. "Excellent! I've finally made my way to his last known coordinates before he managed to destroy the tracker....now let's see....Seal Town, eh?" He asked himself. "Odd name for a place...kind of like a way too on the nose Dr. Slump reference..."
The utterly too presumptuous P-Sta made his way into the village, noting that it was what appeared to be the early afternoon. It was a small mountain town known for its archeological prowess and hot springs. "Looks like everyone's out to lunch right now. Perfect! I can accomplish my mission without much delay!" P-Sta stated, beginning to feel the uneasy feeling of being stuck in some self-referential filler joke chapter due to his writer not realizing he still had more than few days worth of time skip that he could utilize.
"The only problem is where to start looking!" P-Sta exclaimed, a bit clueless as to where he should begin his investigation.
"Delivery! Delivery for Mr. P-Sta!" A mailman (cat) on a bicycle rushed by in a hurry, slapping P-Sta in the face with an envemope before hurriedly moving on as he was being chased by two dogs.
"What kind of preposterous-" P-Sta began indignantly peeling the letter off his face and glancing over the envelope, which read, 'The Plot,' in a bold font. "Ah! Of course! The...the plot? Plot of what?! At any rate, let's see what the letter inside says....Check the saloon, eh? That won't be an issue. I'll get it done quickly and get back to my other case!"
" 'Scuse me Mr. Space Officer, sir, but is that your case?" A small rhino child, munching on a bag of potato chips asks, pointing to a nearby attache case that happened to be lying there.
"Er, no kid..." P-Stay shook his head, wondering if this day would get any stranger. "I can tell I'm in for quit a ca..." he trailed off mid-word as the rhino kid was already mid-way to pointing at another attache case lying on the ground. "Quite an investigation...."
Disciples of the Dragon II: The Challenge of Zxu'ro
[QUOTE=Cleric of Hell’s Brigade;3810366]OT: I’m going to step things up with Zaofan/Ochazuke if that’s ok.
IC:
The cold winds blew hard as Samson Balon, heated by the internal fire of the Dragon, awaited their approach near what looked like a crack in a glacier wall.[/QUOTE]
The flight against the winds was met unfettered, and the howl of the frozen plains only seemed to grow louder the nearer Ochazuke approached.
His face was grim as it had ever been since the day the Knife fell and Banefire took two of their comrades. As he landed his thoughts were only on the burden of having to return to the forsaken North a third time. It seemed as if all mysteries of his life in kind led back to this desolate place, and despite it all the lifeless expanse never failed to alienate living eyes.
[QUOTE=Cyke;3810941]His arms folded underneath the cape, holding it tight to keep himself covered as much as possible, Zaofan made way up the path to meet with Master Balon. Eyes narrowed, face grimacing, a tropics boy like the vagabond chef would prefer the warm waters of the southern beaches, but when Master Balon calls, Zaofan will answer.
"Master!" he yells out in greeting. "This is no place for a Dragon...!"[/QUOTE]
"We're not looking for a Dragon."
Even though he suffered in plain sight, as ever the sympathies of his martial brother were with others. Zaofan's spirited qualities had a way of reaching through the most dire circumstances.
Clasping his hands together, with a low exhale Ochazuke displayed the fruits of the labours under Master Balon's teaching, the [B]Karura no Kaen[/B] expressing that fundamental Dragon's teaching as his spirit wicked away the cold from his companions and made the arctic's disposition just a slight more bearable.
"It seems our mutual friend at Capsule Corp has not been idle. He is as good as his word," he said. "Perhaps now..."
Ochazuke trailed off as he surveyed the glacier through his meditation field.
Tournament of Destiny: Challengers Step Forward, Part I
The night before the tournament, they released the official bracket. Out of the millions that applied, only 64 of the most powerful Super Elites advanced to the final drawing. From there, 32 preliminary matches were set. Many of the names Sarada knew. It didn't escape her notice that she and Parsley were on opposite sides of the bracket, meaning that theirs would be the final match of the tournament.
It also didn't escape her notice that Avoca had entered without telling her. If they both won out, they would meet in the fourth round. “That idiot. Doesn't she realize what this means?”
If by some miracle Avoca managed to beat her in their fourth round fight, Parsley was going to rip her limb from limb without a second's hesitation. Either that or expect her to simply lie down for the ten count. Which would not only be an irreparable blow to the girl's pride, but also be a tarnishing mark on the tournament as a whole.
Then again, it made sense for her to enter. Every Super Elite did; since so many were so close in power, they had to choose the entrants at random. It just so happened that Avoca's name was one of the ones chosen. She only hoped she lost before they met; but at the same time, she didn't want her to lose.
Damn it. Why did something as simple as a fighting tournament have to be so complicated. Shit.
As she scanned the names, some stood out more than others. Pinrut was the son of Callion's King Pinrit. Rugu and Zucci were both in her graduating class. She distinctly remembered the former ridiculing her relentlessly for four years. Oddly, he hadn't said a word to her since she returned from her first stint of training on Earth. Funny, that. Akchoy had a pair of big, soft... titties. Goddamn it, keeping her mind off breasts was going to harder than she thought.
Then, there was Dicchio. Big Dicchio Energy, as he was referred to as by some women, was an oddity. He wasn't like most men in that he wasn't only interested in training, fighting, and getting stronger. No, he was what had become known as a “ladies man”. Sarada had never had the opportunity to mate with him, but Avoca had. She showed him a picture of his equipment. While he wasn't as big as Ishtar, it was larger than the only other Saiyan dong she had seen. It was said that the women couldn't get enough of his BBC – that being his Big Blast Crusher, his attack of choice when sparing.
Sarada wouldn't have minded seeing it herself, but they likely wouldn't meet until the semi-finals.
She spent some time studying what she could find on her opponent, Sallot. She was a Super Elite with a PL of 7980. Fairly strong, but not nearly as strong as her. It wouldn't be too much trouble to get past her, but she wasn't about to fool around and get caught by surprise. There was shockingly little footage on her techniques, so she was going to go in blind. That was fine, she was sure that she could handle it. If all else failed, she still had Hitozaru to fall back on. Though, she would have rather saved that for the later rounds to keep a future opponent from figuring out its weakness.
As the nighttime hours waned, Sarada found herself getting nervous. This was the biggest moment of her life, by far. Everyone was going to be watching: her parents, her brother and cousin, Maiz, her friends, Ishtar. If she won, not only would she be queen, but so would the Oni. That... was going to be interesting. Not in a good way, but more in the 'how many people are going to protest this' kind of way. An off-worlder serving as queen was going to be a culture shock for a lot of people, including the more open-minded people of Pepa and Ruco. In a way, it made Sarada regret joining because the backlash against Ishtar had already gotten nasty. Some asshole “Super” Elite decided to give her a proper welcome by trying to kick her out of a restaurant she and Maiz were eating in. He tossed food in her face in an attempt to humiliate her. She punched him out of his clothes. When Sarada heard that, then saw it on OozTube, she didn't stop laughing for ten straight minutes.
What she wasn't laughing about were all the amorous looks her love had been getting from other women since then. Sarada had had to chase off – or rather render unconscious – over three dozen women who approached Ishtar with hopes of getting some of her succulent Oni meat. Sarada would die before she let another soul taste Ishtar, penis or vagina. Hmph. Bunch of vultures, the lot of 'em.
A night of passionate, tender love-making with her beloved calmed Sarada's nerves enough for her to fall asleep. She didn't know where she would be with Ishtar. Not in the position she was in right that moment – on the cusp of becoming a monarch – that much she was certain of. “When I win, you'll be my Queen,” she told her sleepily just before falling asleep.
Morning came hours later. Sarada awoke bright and early and prepared accordingly. She meditated to clear her mind of all thoughts not pertaining to the task at hand, that being her fight with Sallot. She had a big, nutritious breakfast to supply her with plenty of energy. Before she left for the Arena where the fighters were to assemble, she gave Ishtar as deep a kiss as she could muster. “I love you. I'll see you later.”
All 63 other fighters were there, as well as a team of referees and a two-person team of announcers. The tournament was going to be broadcast live across Vocado and the colonies, but the fights themselves were going to take place on Tarro, an large, empty planet that was annexed just for this occasion.
It hadn't been inhabited in three hundred years thanks to the previous inhabitants rendering the atmosphere unlivable due to extreme air pollution. It was still the case at present, but that was nothing the engineers on Turrip couldn't solve. An artificial atmosphere supplied the planet with clean air. Everything was clear to begin.
Before things began, the referees went over the rules with the fighters. Killing was strictly prohibited and would result in an automatic disqualification. If a fighter died unintentionally, no punishment would be brought down on the surviving fighter. Cheating of any kind – ki enhancing drugs, weapons, throwing a fight, etc – would result in an automatic disqualification. In the case of throwing a fight, both fighters would be disqualified. Cutting off an opponents tail was prohibited, as well. Other than that, any other unusual case would be left to the referees discretion. The only ways to win were to through KO, submission, forfeiture, or the aforementioned unintentional death. The entire planet would serve as the fighting ring, so ring-out was impossible. Battlefield removal was also possible if a fighter somehow found him or herself tossed into outer space with no way to return under his or her own power. A KO only counted if a fighter was unable to fight for ten consecutive seconds. If both fighters were incapacitated for ten consecutive seconds, then it would result in a double knockout. In that case, the opponent in the next round would enjoy a bye.
All 64 competitors understood and accepted the rules and regulations.
The tournament was split into two parts. The first part was the 64 person Challengers' Bracket, and the second part was the Incumbent Battle Royale.
The tournament was self-explanatory. The battle royale consisted of every current ruler. King Mato of Vocado; Queen Senerg of Ruco; King Pinrit of Callion; Ginge, Fennle, Mizuna, Aubergee, and Galanga of Turrip; Queen Becbaga of Langal. The winner would on to face the winner of the Challengers' Bracket to determine the first ruler of the unified Saiyan Empire.
Excitement was at an all-time high. Over 28 million eyes were glued on their televisions in eager anticipation of seeing intense fighting from fighters all throughout the Empire. The competition was sure to be intense and closely contested. Everyone knew the prize at stake and would stop at nearly nothing to win. The fate and future of the Saiyan race hung in the balance these next few days.
The Tournament of Destiny had begun!!
Tournament of Destiny: Challengers Step Forward, Part II
The first two fighters – Keel of Turrip vs Sprout of Langal – and two referees stepped onto a [url=https://i.imgtc.com/l3s0UFk.jpg]bluish-gray circular platform[/url]. The lights in between each section of the platform flashed brightly. When it faded, the four vanished.
They found themselves suddenly in the middle of a [url=https://i.imgtc.com/ehwCdCW.jpg]barren wasteland[/url]. There was nothing for miles in all directions. In fact, they four were the only living things on the entire planet, unless one counted microscopic organisms.
One referee stayed on the ground with the fighters, while another shot into the air. “Fighters ready?” Keel and Sprout separated, putting about three hundred feet between them. The got into fighting positions, faces steeled with determination. “Begin!”
The two fighters dashed toward each other and collided in the middle. Fists flew at hypersonic speed, either dodged or parried to open the way for a retaliatory attack. They were both of similar power levels, so they were evenly matched from the beginning.
“Flaming Missile Barrage!!” Keel bellowed as she shot into the air and fired a series of yellow blasts at Sprout.
The larger man was far more nimble than his size would suggest as he flipped out of the way of the incoming blasts. Once the coast was clear, he shot into the air himself.
“Hey, get back here!” Keel gave chase. She either didn't notice or didn't care that he was flying toward the sun. Seconds passed before he was completely obscured by the morning sun. She had to squint and shield her eyes to keep from being blinded.
“Heh, fool. Now! Corona Flash!” An impossibly bright light, aided by the natural brightness of the sun, flashed, blinding Keel for just a few moments. Those moments were more than enough for Sprout to close in and land a series of devastating punches and kicks that left his opponent reeling. He finished this up with a massive energy blast detonated at point blank range.
Keel was sent flying into a mesa and slid to a stop amid a pile of rubble. She didn't move.
“...8...9...10! That's it!”
With that clever move, Sprout won his opening round match against the younger Keel.
The loser was collected by a team of medics that appeared through the teleportation device, then they, the unconscious Keel, and Sprout left the planet. A few minutes later, the next fighters appeared.
Escaro of Turrip vs Coliflo of Vocado. This fight was also evenly matched and well-fought, but Coliflo managed to just edge out Escaro by lopping off his arm with a razor sharp energy disk. There was no rule against dismemberment, as long as the limb in question wasn't the tail.
In the third fight, Radis of Callion lost easily to Elery of Pepa.
Sarada's wait wasn't a long one, and before she knew it, it was her time. She and [url=https://i.imgtc.com/gbuDSYi.png]Sallot of Langal[/url] stepped onto the teleportation platform and were instantly transported to the wasteland.
Sallot flew back to put some distance between herself and Sarada, while Sarada didn't move. Instead, she merely folded her arms over her chest.
“Fighters ready? Begin!”
Sallot immediately shot into the air and gathered a swell of ki before gathering it into her hands. “Final Moon Shine!!” A massive sphere of white ki erupted from her hands and hurtled toward an unmoving Sarada.
The referee headed for the hills in a desperate bid to find cover, while the Ultra Elite Saiyan remained glued to her spot. “Hmph.” Her mouth yawned opened, letting out a mighty ki enhanced roar that shattered the incoming blast like it was nothing. “I hope that wasn't the best you can do.”
“Hardly! Take this!” She fired a thin white beam of energy. It seemed certain to pierce through Sarada's chest when it was suddenly slapped back at her. She hurriedly dipped downward to avoid being transpierced. “What the hell?”
“Hm. How boring. I expected better from you.” Sarada zipped toward her, her massive speed advantage on full display as she suddenly reappeared behind the shell-shocked Saiyan. A single punch to the back sent her opponent careening into the ground at breakneck speed. “Now, to finish this.” She extended her hand and formed a crimson ball of ki in the palm. “Take this! A gift from me to you!!” The ball, no larger than a basketball, erupted from her hand and hurtled toward her barely moving opponent.
It struck the ground a few feet beside her and exploded. The concussive damage and energy explosion washed over her, knocking her back several hundred feet and leaving her an unconscious heap of unmoving flesh.
“...9...10! It's over!”
“Hmph. Too easy.”
The final twelve fights were of varying lengths, with the final match taking place well into the night. The next day, the final sixteen fights were scheduled to take place. Parsley was up first against Dakon of Callion.
As soon as the fight started, he attacked her relentlessly, not wanting to give her a single second to regroup and come up with a strategy. Had any of his attacks actually hit, she might have been in trouble. Instead, she floated in midair, looking rather bored as she dodge punch after punch.
“Hmph. This is not very sporting,” he commented with unrestrained annoyance.
“There is no sport to be found in the weak,” she replied, deadpan. She casually lifted her arm to block a kick. Her forearm snapped his femur like a twig. “Pathetic. Is this among the best your sorry, backwards excuse of a planet has to offer?”
She turned her back on him. While doing so, her tail unfurled from her waist and smacked him in the face. He flew into, and through, a plateau.
“All too easy,” she commented when the ten-count was finished.
At the end of the second day, the first round had come to an end. The fights were quick, for the most part, with the stronger favorites coming out on top each and every time. The second round would surely prove to be more competitive.
Before Sarada could leave, she sensed Avoca walking up to her. “You did great out there,” she commended her friend.
“Thanks. You, too.” She stopped awkwardly, making it apparent that there was more she wanted to say. Sarada knew exactly what it was. “Look, we'll likely be fighting in the fourth round. I just want to say I won't hold back.”
That was what she wanted to hear. She didn't plan on holding back either. “I won't either. Let's both give it our all!!”
[img]https://media.giphy.com/media/pHb82xtBPfqEg/giphy.gif[/img]
“Damn straight!”
“Now, don't get mad when I win,” Avoca said with a cocky smirk.
“Ha! I'll be sure not to wake you up from that great dream, then.”
She started to reply, but stopped before a single word got out. She swallowed and looked around to make sure no one was paying attention. “Is... is it true what they say about your... bedmate?”
Sarada's face visibly soured.
“It is! She has a PL of over 20K!”
“Keep your voice down,” she whispered harshly. “I don't want these vultures to hear.” She sighed. “Yes, it's true. I never measured how strong we actually are, but I'm pretty sure that we've left the 20Ks a long while ago.”
“H-holy shit.” Slowly, her tail started to stiffen. Not even bothering with discretion, she started to fan herself. “Hey, is... is she DTF?”
“We're monogamous,” she replied curtly.
“Huh?! Since when are you tied down to one person??”
“Since I lost my human. I swore not to make that same mistake, so I've given up lusting after other people.” Specifically lusting after other women. It was hard. There were so many buxom beauties sashaying around in loose fitting dresses and tight shirts. It was more arduous that she thought to keep her mind on Ishtar and only Ishtar. Even still, all she had to do was think back to one of the many nights they've shared in the last three months or so to remind herself why Ishtar was the only person for her from now on.
“But, you're only 16. How will you survive?”
“Oh, I don't have to worry about my libido anymore.” She winked and started to walk away.
“What do you mean?”
“Um.. don't worry about it.”
“Come on, you can tell me.”
“Mind your own business! Jeez.” Sarada broke into a dead sprint, with her nosy best friend hot on her tail.
“Tell me! What does she have the rest of us don't?!”
Disciples of the Dragon II: The Challenge of Zxu'ro
[QUOTE=Cyke;3811561]"Au contraire, my stoic friend! Master Balon is as much a dragon as any I've imagined!" Zaofan lightheartedly slaps Ochazuke on the back, only to realize the mistake that, in doing so, means his cape opens up and releases his built up warmth. His kind gesture costing him, since no good deed goes unpunished, his free arm quickly scrambles to grab the cape and close it back again.[/QUOTE]
It seemed the wanderer's delight kept Zaofan's attitude as brisk as the chill winds that assailed them, blown to this frozen corner of the Earth.
[I]One without roots is affixed to no one place.[/I] It seemed the breadth and expanse of his view allowed him a measure of freedom. As Ochazuke saw it - in wistful, quiet, green moments - Zaofan could forge his own path on a whim and find the measure of his worth as he saw fit.
For himself, the mystery of Zxu'ro was a matter far nearer to his scarred-over heart, a world apart from the jollities of discovery. The senseless bloodshed that set the foundation for all he had acquired before this moment could not be made right even by a penitent path.
All the same, his brother's jubilant presence brought a small smirk spread to the corner of the apostate's mouth.
"Heh..."
The bloom of the Dragon's fire inherited from their common master swept from Ochazuke over to Zaofan again, and the resolve of the snow and chill was thawed anew. For now, they were wanderers both, holding a legacy in kind.
[QUOTE]Noticing the entirety of the glacier, Zaofan's eyes -- used more for expelling energy -- can't help but just drink in the majestic sights of blue ice and white, dusty waves over a grand horizon. After a beat, he continues, "Perhaps now the *real* hard part begins?"[/QUOTE]
"To brand truth as a heresy, I can imagine no less," Ochazuke replied. "Yet the walls of the Ancients will not hold us out."
[QUOTE=Cleric of Hell’s Brigade;3811610]Ochazuke’s senses register a large structure inside.
Balon gestured towards the crack they can squeeze into.
“Follow me.”
He squeezes in and disappeared into the glacier.[/QUOTE]
Ochazuke followed behind. Like the Old Turtle's cloister in the Frozen Fall, the clear ice soon thickened, mottling and eventually swallowing the light in its midst. Unlike Kamesennin Kuki's hermitage, rank with the scent and airs resplendent of endless expired and renewed life, there was little warmth to be held in this icy body.
[I]If this is your challenge, Ancient One, then let this dark matter be brought into the light once more as it should have been.[/I]