Dragonball M, Chapter 1: Silent Menace Aproaches!

[Ptrvc]

Chris shrugs, his aura flaring. Sasheem has prevented him from draining from the area around him much, but he was at least good enough to stand and fight. Good enough to avoid the hammer blow from Jack.

“I used them, they used me. I just ended up on the top of that arrangement in the end. Believe me, no tears shed from them had I died. The strong or the clever win out over the weak. They and the Raiders proved to be weak.”

Jack whirls the hammer around completing the motion, as he does so he he uses the momentum to bring the butt end of the weapon against Chris's leg in an attempted to trip him.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Adam watches the effort to save Willia, and briefly considers removing her head to settle the issue. Waste of time. But then, so was idle musing. The android walks towards Chris the Knife. "You are a sad imitation of true power. You leech the life from things around you, preserving your worthless existence. I am going to kill you. The more you fight, the more painful and prolonged I will make it. What happens next is up to you." It speeds up, cocking one arm back as it flows into a spike.

“Another day, perhaps.”

Chris vanishes.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

As he talked, the teal cloth silently wraps it's self around his ankles, binding him tight.

They do, but when he vanishes, it falls to the ground.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Jack whirls the hammer around completing the motion, as he does so he he uses the momentum to bring the butt end of the weapon against Chris's leg in an attempted to trip him.

It passes through open air as he vanishes.

[Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki]

Without looking, Ochazuke raised his hand to catch the luminous dicot hurled almost disdainfully at him from behind. A small smirk spread on his face as he felt a familiar swirl of energy grace the broken arena.

Tactful as ever.

He broke the bean between his thumb and forefinger, a hard little green thing, still moist in the centre and under the broken skin. He bit into something that had the texture and flavour of a peach-pit with an unassailable aromatic current of old fish.

Just like an ancient sage's medicine, it tasted absolutely awful, but he felt it go to work immediately.



So invigorated, Ochazuke moved over to Totoma where he lay in the dirt. Wordlessly he saw the young man, and how the hidden reserves he'd pulled from, which twisted his form to something new that could contain such energy, lay on his front writhing in pain.

Totoma's screams of pain carried with them intonations of a deeper wound. As Ochazuke spread his focus over him, immediately he saw that he was not crying out from mere trauma alone. Where the Half-Saiyan thrashed, Ochazuke reached down to raise him up, rolling him onto his back elevated against a raised section of the earth as he then attempted to anchor his thrashing and steady his breathing.

"Totoma," he spoke, trying to reach out to him through the fog of an agony he could not imagine, "Totoma!"

He offered half of the Senzu to him.

"Take this."

Even just those few moments of the backlash from pushing the Hitozaru form too far for his current level had seemed like an eternity. And the pain was getting worse, to an extent that Totoma had absolutely no metaphor to describe it. Whether that was because his thrashing had worsened his physical wounds or because of the backlash Totoma couldn't say, because by this point he could really only process two things: pain and a desire to escape it.

He'd very nearly withdrawn into himself, which would have... essentially severed or isolated him from his own body. It was the very same thing he'd done after the Jagam battle, actually. He'd locked himself in a little corner of his mind and refused to come out, save for Karine's sake... and even then only in the most dire of circumstances.

Ocazuke's words, however, gave him something to focus on other than the pain and wanting to escape it. His eyes regained some measure of cognizance and immediately focused on the half-senzu bean. He didn't really recall what it was at the moment, but if it helped...

He accepted the bean, chewing it briefly and swallowing it. The effect was almost immediate, as his body began to mend itself, and the pain receded, though not entirely. Still, compared to the world of absolute pain he'd been immersed in for those few moments, it was... manageable now.

Totoma sat up, face still scrunched in pain and his breath still rapid and shallow. "T-thanks... I... sh--" He coughed, spitting up a bit of blood.

"...pushed... too far. Backlash. Technique... not... mastered," he finished, barely able to form a coherent sentence.

Looking around, he took in what had happened while he'd been... indisposed. Battersea was dead--good riddance--and so was Willa, though Slak seemed to be attending to her... for some reason. Why?

Some of the others were fighting that assassin, Chris the Knife. Whatever, he hoped they tore that piece of shit limb from limb. He turned and looked at the bloody stump where his tail had been previously and grimaced.

"...bastard... took my... tail," he said, his tone belying the absolute rage at that fact.

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

Meagan slices through his back while Sarada does so in the front. This staggers him, so when Ishtar blows the big mech up via fire and fuel, he is caught fully in the explosion.

When it dies down, his burnt body stumbles up, healing as his technique feeds on the ground and plant life, alongside anyone too close.

When the fuel of the fallen machine ignites, Ishtar's world becomes heat, and light ... yet in her current state, such pain is fleeting.

And after a moment spent digging herself from the wreckage of that ruined mecha, the Oni reappears:

Her skin is now a ruined tapestry of blood, and soot. With what blue remaining underneath darkened from the flames that licked her body ... and yet there Chris stood.

Lip curling into a snarl, the golden-eyed Oni held up her hand, and with a whisper fired a massive burst of lightning towards the Knife.

OT: Stage 2, next.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Asha'rah had to lessen the flow of her overwhelming aura. What had once felt like an endless river now threatened to unbalance her, and she rationed the remainder to make it last. To draw any perceptive eye from the change, she stepped forward once, twice, bringing her closer to Fife's visage.

"You were once worthy of being Kami. That means there was a time when you would not have destroyed an entire city just to bring down a possible adversary. Even Evangeline would only be allowed to directly interfere with your activities if they pose such a threat to the Earth that mortals really needed intervention. You were Kami yourself, you knew this. To seek to use your power to right the perceived wrongs of the world is heroic in itself, and for what it is worth I commend you for your intentions even if they rendered you unsuitable for the role of Kami. But the you that ascended would not have sacrificed hundreds of children as a gambit. How could the simple foolishness of others change your moral perspective so drastically? What. Happened?"

For a moment, divine power ramping up her sight and senses, Asha’rah sees something. A grey thing, small and unknown, attached to Fife’s soul.

Or what would have been his soul, if he still had one. Only the grey thing resides in that spiritual place.

And then the former guardian, with no response, leaves.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

When the fuel of the fallen machine ignites, Ishtar's world becomes heat, and light ... yet in her current state, such pain is fleeting.

And after a moment spent digging herself from the wreckage of that ruined mecha, the Oni reappears:

Her skin is now a ruined tapestry of blood, and soot. With what blue remaining underneath darkened from the flames that licked her body ... and yet there Chris stood.

Lip curling into a snarl, the golden-eyed Oni held up her hand, and with a whisper fired a massive burst of lightning towards the Knife.

OT: Stage 2, next.

He has vanished.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

One life.

The life of a murderer and a criminal yet saving it gives him relief. Slowly, Slak stands up. He has stabilized her, but it would do no good to heal her all the way.



He is tired. He used most of his power to strike down Battersea. He probably should have saved what was left to heal one of his allies instead of Willa.

Yet rage spurs him on.

This type of creature... It shouldn't exist.

Dragon Shot!

He squeezes every last bit of Ki he has left into the blast.

Chris has vanished.

[Hazard]

Chris vanishes.

His blasts misses. The killer goes free.

Slak laughs as he falls into unconsciousness.

[Miburo]

“Another day, perhaps.”

Chris vanishes.

"Well, that was rather anti-climatic. I had hoped to see the rest of you primitives and primates tear yet another of our enemies limb from limb."

The voice came not from Koorimaru himself, but from a singular drone--one of the many flying about the battlefield, observing the combat.

"I had hoped I would be able to amuse myself further with this tale of intrigue and woe, but alas, I will have to make due with the despair the foolish spectators of this tournament will endure once they realize just how much of fraud their fallen hero was."

[rhyvurg]

Adam stops, his arm resuming it's normal shape. "Very well, you choose pain."

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Meagan slices through his back while Sarada does so in the front. This staggers him, so when Ishtar blows the big mech up via fire and fuel, he is caught fully in the explosion.

When it dies down, his burnt body stumbles up, healing as his technique feeds on the ground and plant life, alongside anyone too close.

He looks at Held.

“I wanted it. I was willing to play with their ideals, but they both failed me. The gun is mine as payment.”

Sarada's… no, Ishtar's blade tasted The Knife's blood for the first time. It hungered for more. She hungered for more. She thirsted to hear his screams of agony, his tangible pain and distress washing over her like a warm bath on a cool winter night. Before she could make another move, the mech under Chris exploded, sending the young Saiyan flying back

She twisted back and landed on her feet, then used that foothold to propel herself forward. Her blade, crimson succur shining in the bright sun above, sliced through the air, aimed for his throat.

A life for a life, as the ancient laws required.

The katchin blade tasted nothing but air, as the Knife vanished. He was gone without a trace.

"No," she snarled. "DAMN IT!!" Again! A kill was snatched away from her again!!

Angrily, Sarada stabbed the sword into the ground. The fight was over. It was done. Anaxam had made its mark on The Knife. If he was smart, he would remember how her katchin sword tasted, and would fear it for next time.

"Bastard."

Her breathing was haggard, animal-like as she began the difficult process of turning off Anaxam. She wasn't close to the barrier, so it was even harder than before.

OOC: Stage 2 in three posts

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"Well, that was rather anti-climatic. I had hoped to see the rest of you primitives and primates tear yet another of our enemies limb from limb."

The voice came not from Koorimaru himself, but from a singular drone--one of the many flying about the battlefield, observing the combat.

"I had hoped I would be able to amuse myself further with this tale of intrigue and woe, but alas, I will have to make due with the despair the foolish spectators of this tournament will endure once they realize just how much of fraud their fallen hero was."

A voice breaks into the comms.

“Mr. Koorimaru, Brock Lee here. Me and the crane girl got everyone off the island like you suggested to who wasn’t fighting. Damn close, but it’s clear. And yeah, that big powerlevel is coming still. Crane girl is heading your way, so am I and a few others. Brock out.”

This is heard over the comms. It seems the spectators are at least off the island, so casualties will be a minimum.

Because Fife is almost here. You can all feel him now.

[KingofPie]

“Another day, perhaps.”

Chris vanishes.

Sasheem begins to roll around on the ground and pound his fists against the earth in tantrum. "No kill! No killl!!!" He cried

Just wasn't his day.

Because Fife is almost here. You can all feel him now.

The Majin's head suddenly perks up. Perhaps all was not lost...