Original join date: 11/23/2004
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His eyes narrowed, arms uncrossing from their previous position across his chest. The brief temptation to end her here and now crossed his mind, but Rex had to remind himself; he was better than that. Long were the days of mindless combat of his less... sentient kin. That was not to say that the hatchling's words to be ignored, though.
"I have seen the rise and fall of empires. Civilizations have fallen to my anger and places where I once tread were turned into holy sites. Your ancestors most likely bowed at my feet, pleading to serve me... and you have the audacity to call me a thief? You dare say that I have no role in the fate of this world; a planet I have saved countless times before you were ever conceived? Your training has either placed you upon the same pedestal as gods for such confidence, or you've suffered enough brain damage for such ignorance."
"For someone so high an mighty, you sure do throw around insults like a commoner." Dash considered ignoring him and walking away, but her curiosity got the better of her, "If'n you're so self important, what brings you here of all places? Ah can't imagine anyone would have invited you."
Original join date: 11/23/2004
Eclectic Connoisseur of all things written, drawn, or imaginatively created.
"As the Strongest, I must protect the Earth from any upcoming threat, as this planet is mine and I will have no one be deluded into thinking otherwise." His gaze returned back to the surrounding sky, finding Dash lacking as a threat to him, "I was under the impression that your training was for this purpose as well unless you just enjoy wasting the time and resources of others."
The room of spirit and time was not something unknown to him, as he recalled being there through Zippa and Phospho. It was not something the Kami let anyone use so casually.
"Strongest, huh?" she gave him a skeptical look, then casually put her hands in her pockets, "We're just waitin our turn. More'n one way to become strong, more'n one kind of strength. Just don't'ca go an get yourself killed. We both know a green haired mage who'd be more'n happy to send you back to where-ever you came from."
Dash then turned as if to walk away.
Original join date: 11/23/2004
Eclectic Connoisseur of all things written, drawn, or imaginatively created.
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Suspended there in the silence of space, there was a brief reprieve to the bile chorus that served as his ill-fitting thanks. There always seemed to be a curious tendency of the universe for the Nevadian; for the man who can see everything, it was a curious oversight just how the circumstances surrounding him arose, and with such urgency to put them right.
For now the station had righted itself with no loss of life, and Held, perhaps, could simply take the moment to ruminate about the control reasserted over the sudden chaos.
Of course, that would be the moment the ringer blared out. Despite the cut comms, the notification flashed on the inner HUD of his helmet. This wasn't a domestic matter, this was the private line, its access granted only to a specific few for matters of the utmost confidence; which meant this was either a reversal of his current string of misfortunes, or something else entirely to add to the pile.
Held's incoming contact bore no name, only a singular initial: "U"
He just couldn't catch a break.
"Huh?" Held blinked absently for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion into his line of thought. His eyes narrowed from within his helmet as he made sense of a classified communication being sent his way.
It was obviously quite important. That meant nothing to him. Practically everything he found himself involved with now days was a matter of importance. If he wasn't helping save Earth, he was being tasked with a dozen other tasks of at least superficial importance. The joys of bureaucracy.
It shouldn't have been as surprising as it was, the classified call. He was an admiral after all, and the days of carefree wandering almost seemed like a distant memory. Despite all the busywork, planning, politics and various other tasks he found himself occupied with, this one was unique. Very few people had the clearance to even call him on a classified line, let alone someone he was unfamiliar with.
The "U" could have stood for anything, as far as he knew.
For a moment, the unknown caused the Nevadian apprehension he had not felt in some time. It was time to remedy that.
He pushed a button on the wrist of his suit, patching the communication in.
"This is He--" He caught himself. "This is Admiral Debon." He corrected himself, "I'll do myself a favor and assume that this isn't the head of Nevadian Janitoral...."
Even now he felt disease recalling the symphony of nausea and vomiting by his crew, barely pushing out of his mind the sheer horrifying mess that awaited him.
"So, let's get with who you are, and what I can do for you, U"
As the days passed, Rousong watched over and trained with the young hero. His progress and drive was... impressive, to say the least. Easily a match for his own, at least for the latter. Time would tell whether or not he maintained that drive, but, for now, Rousong had no complaints--a rare thing indeed.
As for himself, he focused on mastering Super Saiyan 3. First, he focused on acclimating himself to the borderline uncontrollable ki output of the form--a tall order, but he did make headway. When he first demonstrated it, he could hold the form for perhaps five minutes at most, and doing so was exhausting. By a quarter of the way in, he could hold it perhaps fifteen minutes, with a bit less power drop-off over the course of holding it and less exhaustion. Not ideal, and even with his immense talent, he'd only be able to hold the form for perhaps an hour by the time this was all over.
Of course, with how these things went, the longer he could hold the form, the more his body would adjust to it, so his 'mastery' of it would follow an exponential curve, akin to a pandemic once it passes a certain threshold of infected. Still, even an hour, with the form's extreme level of power, would be enough to overcome anything he was likely to encounter.
Though to be fair, the same could be said of the first and second levels, as well.
Regardless, by the time the third month has passed, he felt that Pinach was ready. His normal form was roughly as strong as he had been when he'd first ascended... so all that was needed was, well, that need. While hypothetically possible to simply transform by "figuring out" how the transformation worked, that was... only hypothetical.
...
Though he had a feeling his mom could have figured it out. She had created hitozaru, after all.
Mm.
The method he used with Sarada wouldn't work--he and Pinach were far from friends, but they were hardly at odds--so... he was going to do this entirely up-front.
Staring out into the void at their usual training spot, Rousong turned his head to Pinach. "Alright, it's about time. I'll not mince words, the method I'm going to use to give you need to transform will be terrifying, and you may very well die. But I believe you can do it... I was just about right where you are right now when I transformed. However... if you wish for more time, I will grant it. Make your choice."
Normally, he'd punish someone in Pinach's situation if they backed down, but Pinach was still a kid--yes, a kid on the cusp of manhood, but still a kid--and... admittedly, he had grown fond of the kid. His drive and... yes, his sense of justice reminded Rousong of better days.
The poster formerly known as Daiyoukai Ramza.
Arriving at the entrance of the RoSaT, it was clear that those inside needed more time. "Ah guess we shouldn't be so impatient. Just the thought of finally getting to experience what's inside has me on edge, in a good kinda way." Dash leans against the corridor wall as she talks to Praxat, " Looks like we got some more time to kill, is there anythin you'd like to do while we wait?"
Original join date: 11/23/2004
Eclectic Connoisseur of all things written, drawn, or imaginatively created.
The call screen expanded to a visual in the HUD, and on the other end the caller stared, a gloomy shadow. His thin face creased with hard lines highlighted the one, coal-black eye set deep under a fine brow.
The wind-tossed foliage carried with it the buzz of countless hidden insects. Despite the ambient, hissing heat of the apaprent tropics around him, the deathlike pallor of the man only futher pronounced a peculiar, remote coldness. A detached, if formal, voice spoke from him.
"Let's spare the formalities and get straight to it. This is Captain Ulysses Prizzm from Starship Penelope, access code 091225. This transmission is encrypted and..."
He paused and cleared his throat, as if he just realized this was a video call.
"...is this a bad time, Admiral," Ulysses asked flatly. "Pushing paper throw off your spatial equilibrium?"
The man swept a hand over his brow with a low grumble - something about land-lubbers.
"Whatever the case, we've delivered on our end of the commission. That sector they said was abandoned? Well, we've found a planet there. You can barely call it a Type One, real bunch of Alpha-Primitives living in this bush."
Suddenly, a sharp grin split his features. "Except for the royalty, that is. Our...cargo, they were particularly interested, especially the gloomy one who gave us the vector. When we touched down though, things...may have gotten a little out of hand with first contact."
His armour, brandishing the insignia of the Navigator's Guild, bore the ashen signs of recent combat.
"That aside, you want the good news first, or the bad news?"
"We could dance or do some reading? Oh, by the way, Qaztoh had reconstructive surgery done on her pupils a while back to fix an abnormality. She had an eye abnormality that caused her to have star-shaped pupils," Praxat said.
" She got it pupils corrected, and now they're vertical slit pupils like mine. Oh, you should see how now. She's built like a tank. Six foot five and two hundred and forty pounds of muscle. Yeah, she got big and had quite the growth spurt two years ago." Praxat said.
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Characters: Cyber Samurai, Wilima Stonewall, Red Oni, Jaakobah , Giduiz Mazi, Midas Goldsteel
Gambit: Gambit see your bet and raise it, because the cards always be in my favor.
Original join date: 11/23/2004
Eclectic Connoisseur of all things written, drawn, or imaginatively created.