Dragonball M, Chapter 4: Kidnapping! Invasion! A new Threat Strikes First!

[Yun Lao]

" I was spying on them from afar for a time before I joined you here," Blizzar began. "Is that's coveted the landscape in some sort of magical blizzard. We need to even the playing field a bit I think. I suggest a bit of a pincer movement, hitting her from multiple angles at full force. We can't give her a chance to think...she's powerful but she can be overwhelmed."

"She probably wouldn't be expecting such overwhelmingly aggressive male attention..." He muttered, amusingly, to himself beneath his breath.

"The ice powers are a new bit, but your plan seems sound enough."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Parsley gritted her teeth to keep from crying out and looked at the construct disdainfully. "I've had enough of you."

The blood that bubbled from the would floated upward and shifted into another time. "Freeze," she stated as she rune flashed and spread across the construct like a sheet of ice.

Blood Sarada does so, freezing and falling from the sky.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Nearby, a certain individual sat, unseen, near the body of Voyavoda. It was, in fact, the disembodied soul of Voyavoda himself. Everything since his 'death' he had witnessed... the battle, their 'victory', and then Totoma's... death at Parsley's hands. From what he'd heard, it was necessary to prevent the enemy from achieving some greater gold, but it still hurt to see the boy simply die like that. In many ways, he was like another grandson to him.

The old soldier wanted to help, but what could he do at this juncture?

A fiery figure stepped up beside him, and Voyavoda glanced over. He knew well what this being was... himself. Or rather, his future self that would be reborn from the flames of palingenisis, soon enough.

"You... I don't suppose you could hold off on being born, now could you?"

His future self did not respond. After all, how could someone that had not yet been born even communicate? And yet... wordlessly, the older soldier knew that the him-to-be wanted to help in some way, as well. But how? Already the Flames of Palingenisis had begun the process of rebirth.

...

He sighed. He--they--had to try, and so the old soldier, one last time, focused his will, his past and his future turning to flame and re-entering the body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voyavoda jolted awake (alive), his body having de-aged considerably due to the Flames of Palingenesis. He appeared as a young man in his prime--late 20s at the latest--albeit one covered in intense flames. With great effort, he stood up, almost falling over as he did so. Voyavoda caught himself, however, and focused his intense, quite-literally-fiery gaze on Zaofan... and Totoma.



He took one labored step, his quickly rejuvenating body barely having the energy to spare for the action, but Voyavoda dug deep, found yet more reserves, and took another step. And another... and another... and another, until he had reached Zaofan, Totoma, and the Forge Lord. Just in time to overhear the Forge Lord mention 'consecrated phoenix blood'.

"Been to Nevada... have you? Not... surprised," said Voyavoda. There were phoenixes elsewhere in the universe, but Nevada was a world full of wonderous, mythical creatures... no better place to acquire such ingredient than there, if one could survive its dangers.

Turning to Zaofan, he continued. "You... Zaofan... I am... not long for this... world. Take my... my heart and use it... to replace what he... Totoma lost."

If taken from him while he was like this, it would be as good--no, better--than restoring his original heart. One would normally worry about the body rejecting it, but from what he knew of Totoma's human heritage, they were quite... adaptable, when it came to integrating foreign materials into their bodies, so to speak.

Banespell eyes the dying Nevadian, nodding at his question as he holds the item up still for Zaofan.

“I’d be quick, sonny. He won’t last long.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Blood Sarada does so, freezing and falling from the sky.

With practiced ease, she captured the Blood Sarada in a capsule to officially take it out of the fight. She hoped. Nothing had managed to escape one of those things as far as she knew but she was leaving nothing to chance.

With that done, she took a moment to take stock of the situation. Wolf God was continuing his pursuit of Sihn. In the far distance, she noticed a figure that looked like Shek'hinah had arrived and was helping Totoma take care of the souls that had previously been threatened by the cowardly so-called deity. "Tch."

Her nerves had become frazzled and she was sick and tired of the entire ordeal. She didn't know where these beings came from or why they felt they had the right to simply do whatever they wanted, but it was going to stop. She had had enough.

Her teeth gritted. Her aura flared as she lifted off and rocketed down Snake Way toward the battle proper. With the remaining blood from her wounds, she formed another rune. It flashed and activated a petrification spell to turn Wolf God into stone.

[KingofPie]

"She probably wouldn't be expecting such overwhelmingly aggressive male attention..." He muttered, amusingly, to himself beneath his breath.

"The ice powers are a new bit, but your plan seems sound enough."

Blizzar nodded and looked towards Lantro, who had been lying nearby, exhausted from his Omega Dunk attack. "He'd probably be more useful than me...But I'll hang around on the offskirts of the fight. I ay be able to blind-side her." Blizzar raised a hand and gave some of his ki to Lantro to get him going again. "Did you hear anything?"

"Got the gist..." Lantro shrugged, shaking his head. He looked to Charco. "You ready to make the play?"

[grampagen]

“Heh.”

Banespell says something in an arcane language and summons a small walking cane to his hand. He twists part of it, light flares and suddenly the entire room, forge and all, are whisked into it like a capsule. Zaofan is left with just a pitcher of water in hand and the table Totoma is laying on. The entire house is gone.

Banespell pulls on a small cap, puts it on, and than looks at them. He turns another section of the cane and suddenly a small ember appears. He grabs it and holds it out to Zaofan.

“You’ll need that, sonny, if you plan to save him. Consecrated Phoenix blood.”

As he rummaged through the Forger's kitchen, Zaofan found a pitcher, filled it with water, and then suddenly it seemed as if something in the ether began to swallow the entire house around them.

What the...? Space bent and folded, and the whole thing siphoned off into the old dwarf's cane. Nothing left but the earthenware jug in his hand, and the issue of a dead young man before them. When Banespell offered what he claimed to be a panacea for just this situation, Zaofan shook his head.

"Shut up. Just...," the water sloshed in the jug as he turned his back to the forger and turned his attention back to Totoma "shut up."

Peeling back the muslin he'd put on his face, Zaofan exposed the airways. Having stimulated the ki pathways through a strange balance of skills he'd learned from Ryuu Shingen and Samson Balon, it was his hope that, at least in part, Totoma's body might remember the rest.

"Cut out the grandfatherly routine, I don't want to hear anything out of you, short stack."

Gradually he poured water down his stilled mouth in a bid to activate Haurvatat, that regenerative skill he'd picked up from Ishtar so long ago to quell his Saiyan appetites. He'd seen it work before like a reflex; it might've seemed that Totoma had ended up face-down after a scrap, but whether a puddle or a snowbank, he'd found fresh energy within him shortly after.

"You're acting like you weren't directly involved in killing my friends. He hadn't done a thing to you and you still decided not only to shoot Held, but the Guardian of my home as well?"

All to snuff out the power of a wish, and yet for all that, this guy still had the gall to barter with Grinthorn.

"If that'll be all for the Greater Good, Smithy, if you're hiding everything but this so-called 'Phoenix Blood,' then I'd bet this is the only thing you're not willing to lose, isn't it?"

Voyavoda jolted awake (alive), his body having de-aged considerably due to the Flames of Palingenesis. He appeared as a young man in his prime--late 20s at the latest--albeit one covered in intense flames. With great effort, he stood up, almost falling over as he did so. Voyavoda caught himself, however, and focused his intense, quite-literally-fiery gaze on Zaofan... and Totoma.

*snip*

He took one labored step, his quickly rejuvenating body barely having the energy to spare for the action, but Voyavoda dug deep, found yet more reserves, and took another step. And another... and another... and another, until he had reached Zaofan, Totoma, and the Forge Lord. Just in time to overhear the Forge Lord mention 'consecrated phoenix blood'.

"Been to Nevada... have you? Not... surprised," said Voyavoda. There were phoenixes elsewhere in the universe, but Nevada was a world full of wonderous, mythical creatures... no better place to acquire such ingredient than there, if one could survive its dangers.

Turning to Zaofan, he continued. "You... Zaofan... I am... not long for this... world. Take my... my heart and use it... to replace what he... Totoma lost."

If taken from him while he was like this, it would be as good--no, better--than restoring his original heart. One would normally worry about the body rejecting it, but from what he knew of Totoma's human heritage, they were quite... adaptable, when it came to integrating foreign materials into their bodies, so to speak.

The water of life eased down Totoma's parched lips, and Zaofan monitored his condition. There was something like a weak, mechanical pulse that had been imparted through the systems of his body as the matter slowly moved through his veins. All it needed now, hopefully, was a spark of life.

Suddenly, he felt a billowing heat at his back that pulled him away from the work.

...what the-?!

The fiery-eyed youth lurched toward them, but it seemed he wasn't an enemy. No, he'd offered him something, but the means of which to attain it-

"...no! Enough! Would you-," he stammered, "Who even are you?! You can barely stand, I'm not going to rip out your heart!"

It was all so frustrating the way this entire day went down. Life and death being dispensed all around like an exchange of cheap tokens in some morbid game.

"None of that, shame on you!"

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

As he rummaged through the Forger's kitchen, Zaofan found a pitcher, filled it with water, and then suddenly it seemed as if something in the ether began to swallow the entire house around them.

What the...? Space bent and folded, and the whole thing siphoned off into the old dwarf's cane. Nothing left but the earthenware jug in his hand, and the issue of a dead young man before them. When Banespell offered what he claimed to be a panacea for just this situation, Zaofan shook his head.

"Shut up. Just...," the water sloshed in the jug as he turned his back to the forger and turned his attention back to Totoma "shut up."

Peeling back the muslin he'd put on his face, Zaofan exposed the airways. Having stimulated the ki pathways through a strange balance of skills he'd learned from Ryuu Shingen and Samson Balon, it was his hope that, at least in part, Totoma's body might remember the rest.

"Cut out the grandfatherly routine, I don't want to hear anything out of you, short stack."

Gradually he poured water down his stilled mouth in a bid to activate Haurvatat, that regenerative skill he'd picked up from Ishtar so long ago to quell his Saiyan appetites. He'd seen it work before like a reflex; it might've seemed that Totoma had ended up face-down after a scrap, but whether a puddle or a snowbank, he'd found fresh energy within him shortly after.

"You're acting like you weren't directly involved in killing my friends. He hadn't done a thing to you and you still decided not only to shoot Held, but the Guardian of my home as well?"

All to snuff out the power of a wish, and yet for all that, this guy still had the gall to barter with Grinthorn.

"If that'll be all for the Greater Good, Smithy, if you're hiding everything but this so-called 'Phoenix Blood,' then I'd bet this is the only thing you're not willing to lose, isn't it?"



The water of life eased down Totoma's parched lips, and Zaofan monitored his condition. There was something like a weak, mechanical pulse that had been imparted through the systems of his body as the matter slowly moved through his veins. All it needed now, hopefully, was a spark of life.

Suddenly, he felt a billowing heat at his back that pulled him away from the work.

...what the-?!

The fiery-eyed youth lurched toward them, but it seemed he wasn't an enemy. No, he'd offered him something, but the means of which to attain it-

"...no! Enough! Would you-," he stammered, "Who even are you?! You can barely stand, I'm not going to rip out your heart!"

It was all so frustrating the way this entire day went down. Life and death being dispensed all around like an exchange of cheap tokens in some morbid game.

"None of that, shame on you!"

“Not really, just an offer young man. I am bound by magic oaths that mean I cannot lie, ask Arch-Mage Etrina or Lady Inanna themselves if you wish. I have little against you or the half-saiyan. As to my house, I have little wish for your ‘friends’ to loot my house like brigands as they’ve done so many other places. Or have it destroyed like the forest around it.”

He gestures and the small sphere of precious Phoenix blood lands at Zaofan’s feet.

“Use it or not, it’s freely given. Maybe the dying Nevadian beside you can use it instead.”

He adjusts his cap, shoulders a bag, and starts walking towards the ruined forest with his cane. He pauses and starts looking around, as if searching for something.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

It seemed whatever power could not be arrested as it had before. As the Sword of Damocles appeared, a cold, subtle whisper seemed to carry itself through its bearing, and replete with the all-consuming maw of such undisciplined Hakai, it was as if this were the ultimate expression of this Ishtar's reason for being.

"You think your mettle has been refined by this..." The words left him, filled with disgust, at the proclamation that she did not fear death.

"Bold words for one who deals in it so recklessly."

She bared the blade and asked him to choose.

Without a word, Ochazuke set foot on the ground. He drew upon the arts of the Wolf and the Bear and simply began to walk toward her. She'd left that world behind a long time ago, but at that moment, he seemed to walk in the shadow of the Sheriff, and the ground trembled as something else welled deep from within him.

A thing this one knew all to well. Life Energy.




His pace did not slow as he moved toward Ishtar as he stepped directly inside the field of Sarada's ki that rushed about her. His gradual steps remained steady as he moved forward, seemingly just one step ahead of the swarming path of Sarada's tempestuous energy storm.

When faced with life and death, very little remained to consider but a lifetime of training for these very moments.

Shoshin. Mushin. Zanshin.

Aware of everything in totality, it seemed as if something otherworldly shrouded him thinly as the energy projections flew around him; every passing moment, he drew closer.

OOC:
Wolf's Prowl and Bear's Strength activated
Shoshin Hiei: + evasion
Mushin Nehan: + hit%/- opponent's execution
Zanshin Touki: enhance next technique with Kiai

For a second, Ochazuke sees....fear? Doubt? In her eyes but she steels herself and lunges incredibly quick, blade aimed at Ochazuke’s heart.

Sarada had been slowly drifting behind Ishtar while the goddess had been speaking with Ochazuke. With her attention fully on him, Sarada knew this was the moment she had been waiting for. She probably was only going to get one shot at it, so she had to make it count!

One final bit of ki remained in her hand after her initial distraction, kept purposefully for this exact reason. She raised her arm in the air and molded the ki into the shape of a flattened disk. The edge of that disk was razor sharp. It was her hope that it would be enough to cut the goddess up while she was distracted with Ochazuke. Despite her bloodlust, Sarada had enough of her wits to realize that a killing blow wasn't going to happen, at least not yet. She needed to chip away. A limb was a good start.

She gave the martial master a glance, silently prompting him to prepare himself. Her ploy was only going to work the first time before she had to switch tactics. I need to make this count!

She tossed the ki disk and used her ki control to direct its path. She veered it to the side, then turned it sharply so that it, if it hit, would strike through her sword arm without hitting Ochazuke.

[Yun Lao]

Blizzar nodded and looked towards Lantro, who had been lying nearby, exhausted from his Omega Dunk attack. "He'd probably be more useful than me...But I'll hang around on the offskirts of the fight. I ay be able to blind-side her." Blizzar raised a hand and gave some of his ki to Lantro to get him going again. "Did you hear anything?"

"Got the gist..." Lantro shrugged, shaking his head. He looked to Charco. "You ready to make the play?"

"I still got a lot of fuel in the tank."

He still wasn't satisfied, his limits had yet to be reached.

[grampagen]

For a second, Ochazuke sees....fear? Doubt? In her eyes but she steels herself and lunges incredibly quick, blade aimed at Ochazuke’s heart.

Her handle on the blade was sure, and her strength formidable, but he could see it deep within her soul; the sheer power this thing brought to bear she had a small confidence in handling. There was already a tell, and the moment she exploded forth he was already in motion.

Shoshin

The blade flew forward, carried on that arm.

Ishtar's burning sword sought a target right before her. Curious, was this her last natural limb that carried it? A direct strike, yet quite unpracticed.

You never did pay much mind to your surroundings. Not when you could destroy them without consequence.

With the slightest movement, Ochazuke took advantage of that slightest hesitation stepped to the outside to dodged...but only just.

Mushin

Sarada had been slowly drifting behind Ishtar while the goddess had been speaking with Ochazuke. With her attention fully on him, Sarada knew this was the moment she had been waiting for. She probably was only going to get one shot at it, so she had to make it count!

One final bit of ki remained in her hand after her initial distraction, kept purposefully for this exact reason. She raised her arm in the air and molded the ki into the shape of a flattened disk. The edge of that disk was razor sharp. It was her hope that it would be enough to cut the goddess up while she was distracted with Ochazuke. Despite her bloodlust, Sarada had enough of her wits to realize that a killing blow wasn't going to happen, at least not yet. She needed to chip away. A limb was a good start.

She gave the martial master a glance, silently prompting him to prepare himself. Her ploy was only going to work the first time before she had to switch tactics. I need to make this count!

She tossed the ki disk and used her ki control to direct its path. She veered it to the side, then turned it sharply so that it, if it hit, would strike through her sword arm without hitting Ochazuke.

The moment Sarada's razor-sharp disk flew in, Ochazuke drew back, wasting no movement as he raised a fist to his side and seized upon the window of time that grew almost imperceptibly wider.

His counter was deceptively simple; A reverse straight punch thrown toward the nearest target as he slipped below the level of Ishtar's smouldering orange eyes and threw his fist into her sternum.

Zanshin.

The first strike was meant to connect, but followed by a Mastered Kiai carrying the Spark of Creation in its wake, at this close a range he sought to snuff out her myriad, layered auras in the blowback.

Inanna squinted.

When she'd been imprisoned in an over glorified crystal ball, she hadn't expected to come back to a house on fire and its residents throwing hands.

But in a way, she was glad.

... A chance to vent frustration.

"When in Rome...".

Ochazuke closing from one side, Inanna closed from the other, unsealing her suppressed self mid-flight and turning herself into the equivalent of a planet sundering missile.

...and close the maneuver on a decisive pincer attack.

[Miburo]

Whis pauses before answering.

“We are trainers, mostly, for new Gods of Destruction. Mentors, guides, and helpers while being servants of the Grand Priest and Lord Zeno. Beyond that, we indulge our hobbies. Like eating good food.”

The Nevadians eating slowed considerably as he slumped in his chair.

"...A trainer, huh." He replied gloomily, "You don't say. I'm something of a trainer myself--when the money is right-- I was training someone right before I ended up here."

Despite his sudden change in spirits, he morosely continued eating. "I guess I'm more out of practice than I thought, if she managed to take me out...She's not half bad, don't get me wrong, but she still had a lot to learn..."

He sighed deeply.

"Then again, perhaps so do I, if she managed to put me on ice.....Maybe I just don't have it anymore."

He smiles and takes a bite as Vados picks up the conversation.

“Hammer.....haven’t heard that name in a good long while. You defeated him? That is very impressive.”

"Well, I certainly had help, and I would be lying if I said they didn't do all the heavy lifting." He replied, his mind still focused on how he was clearly past his glory days. It was only the absolute quality of his food and the joy it produced that kept him from excusing himself, to curl into a ball in the corner of the room and hopefully not weep bitterly at lost potential.

"And If I were to be honest with you, I...Think we were just cleaning up the mess someone left behind."

Even now, the putrid rotting being that was Hammer, apparently on the cusp of dead for ages untold, stuck with the Nevadian. He almost felt pity for the being, were it not clear that such a state was considered an inconvenience to it's greater goals.

"I'm...Not the foremost expert on Namekians or Gods or Destruction, but I don't think 'Walking Corpse' is the default of either..."

[grampagen]

“Not really, just an offer young man. I am bound by magic oaths that mean I cannot lie, ask Arch-Mage Etrina or Lady Inanna themselves if you wish. I have little against you or the half-saiyan. As to my house, I have little wish for your ‘friends’ to loot my house like brigands as they’ve done so many other places. Or have it destroyed like the forest around it.”

He gestures and the small sphere of precious Phoenix blood lands at Zaofan’s feet.

“Use it or not, it’s freely given. Maybe the dying Nevadian beside you can use it instead.”

He adjusts his cap, shoulders a bag, and starts walking towards the ruined forest with his cane. He pauses and starts looking around, as if searching for something.

Zaofan traced the path of Totoma's meridians, swiftly palpating with his fingers from the notch of his collar, to the solar plexus, watching the grisly issue as the veins surrounding the hole in his chest resisted spilling. All the while a vein began to pulse in his forehead as the Forger spoke.

"Yeah? And what about Held? For someone without a grudge you sure got a funny way of showing it." I ought to bind you in a magical bunch of shut-the-heck-up...

The Forger then began to pick himself up and just started walking away as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

"Of all the gall~!" If his hands weren't currently resting on his friend's body, they might have gone through the table. "There you go trying to pass the buck."

"We're the source of all your misery?! Who decided a man should die today based on what he might do? Who decided they knew better than anyone else how people should live their lives and killed a Guardian for it? Who made a wish upon G- That Man without even discussing the issues of the Universe with the God of Destruction before pulling the trigger?!"

Grumbling under his breath, Zaofan took a breath, channeling his anger to something that would at least be productive.

"'Loot and destroy,' you sound like an *******! Nobody twisted your arm to do this! This happened because you brought this upon yourself!"

Whatever horrible change they'd plotted, he'd see it through by his own means. The small sphere of Phoenix's blood rolled by Zaofan's feet...and it remained there. He already had some trained into his hands.

Channeling the fire of Zxu'ro's Phoenix, he threw a pulse of Ho-ou Sosei through Totoma's body, hoping to rekindle the living fire within him.

Right now it's not a matter of opportunities, but doing what's right.

The ki flow surged between them, hopefully kickstarting his conditioned regenerative response, as he threw one draining pulse after another into his patient on this makeshift operating table.

The rest of the journey back was up to Totoma, and he'd stand here until then.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Zaofan traced the path of Totoma's meridians, swiftly palpating with his fingers from the notch of his collar, to the solar plexus, watching the grisly issue as the veins surrounding the hole in his chest resisted spilling. All the while a vein began to pulse in his forehead as the Forger spoke.

"Yeah? And what about Held? For someone without a grudge you sure got a funny way of showing it." I ought to bind you in a magical bunch of shut-the-heck-up...

The Forger then began to pick himself up and just started walking away as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

"Of all the gall~!" If his hands weren't currently resting on his friend's body, they might have gone through the table. "There you go trying to pass the buck."

"We're the source of all your misery?! Who decided a man should die today based on what he might do? Who decided they knew better than anyone else how people should live their lives and killed a Guardian for it? Who made a wish upon G- That Man without even discussing the issues of the Universe with the God of Destruction before pulling the trigger?!"

Grumbling under his breath, Zaofan took a breath, channeling his anger to something that would at least be productive.

"'Loot and destroy,' you sound like an *******! Nobody twisted your arm to do this! This happened because you brought this upon yourself!"

Whatever horrible change they'd plotted, he'd see it through by his own means. The small sphere of Phoenix's blood rolled by Zaofan's feet...and it remained there. He already had some trained into his hands.

Channeling the fire of Zxu'ro's Phoenix, he threw a pulse of Ho-ou Sosei through Totoma's body, hoping to rekindle the living fire within him.

Right now it's not a matter of opportunities, but doing what's right.

The ki flow surged between them, hopefully kickstarting his conditioned regenerative response, as he threw one draining pulse after another into his patient on this makeshift operating table.

The rest of the journey back was up to Totoma, and he'd stand here until then.

Banespell chuckled sadly a bit.

“I envy you, boy. Your naïvetée. Your hypocrisy. Your very allies just about destroyed my planet just now and the few billion that live on it. Without even a second thought because they were angry. Or Reshlan. Or even the Saiyan homeworld, yet you claim a moral high ground? And I assure you, human, there is far less blood on my hands than Inanna, or your Saiyan friends, or even Blizzar and that Rex fellow.”

He turns and looks at Zaofan, magic in his eyes.

“I know my sins, human. I know the names of those who have died under my authority, and I understand punishment awaits at the end, which is more than I can say about some. But I will protect this universe from the threat Lady Inanna and Genesis both pose, and I will not fail. The havoc both can cause........”

He eyes the Phoenix blood on the ground and shakes his head.

“Pride goeth, boy. Remember that. I hope our paths don’t cross again, for both our sakes. I’d rather not add your name to my list.”

With that, his hand comes up and in a very familiar gesture, places two fingers against his for head and disappears.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Zaofan, you have managed to stabilize Totoma’s body. It’s up to his soul now.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Ruination Ishtar’s arm isn’t cut by Sarada’s attack, but the distraction and his parry does leave her open to a sternum punch that bows her over.


And than Inanna slams into her like a thunderbolt from on high and an eruption of energy follows, flinging any nearby away as she planted Ishtar five miles down into Darkle’s crust and into some lava.