Post by Helix Crust on Jan 19, 2017 5:25:54 GMT
Helix Crust had been down in Hell for a longer period of time than he had ever fathomed when he first arrived in the fiery wasteland. He had come down into the depths of the darkness in order to consort with the devils, and learn their plight. But the amount of time which the namekian had ended up hopelessly trapped in the suffocating space was beyond his original estimation.
Luckily for the prophet, he knew for a fact he was to be leaving the literal hell hole soon enough. Xylo had a detailed plan, with little room for failure. Although Helix had first been informed what seemed like ages ago, the words were still fresh in his mind. He was going to meet his brother and some of his dark consorts at a suspicious mountain on the edge of Hell, and from there, he would be brought back to the world of the living.
His return was long overdue. Namekian society was likely falling apart without a leader, as Nai himself was now passed, and the saiyans were known to be running rampant across the planet.
But in all of Helix's eagerness to exit the underworld, he had still been unable to off put the desire to make this prison a home. Only hours earlier, Helix had begun the construction of a small palace in the underworld, modeled after typical namekian abodes.
Filling his hands with bountiful dripping white energy, Helix had bent the world to his will with telekinesis. Cracking off a mountain tip from nearby, the prophet had decided to use that as the base for his construction. Slice by slice, the namekian had tapped different parts of the colossal hunk of rock, chiseling off shreds of stone with a spiderweb of mystical energy.
Once he had formed a suitable pedestal for his palace, the dragon caste lowered it to the ground and let it drop, sending dust pluming into the air and listening to the vibrations that were projected across the plains of Hell. But this hunk of rock was no home!
Soon, Helix had scattered marbles of white mystic energy across the surrounding landscape, and from the barren red rocks of Hell soon sprung beautiful namekian trees. Harvesting the trees by hand, one by one Helix chopped down the necessary lumber, and pushed the logs into a boiling cauldron, in which they were melted down into a pearly white paste.
Levitating some of the white cement into the air, the namekian quickly sculpted a dome onto of the newly formed rock pedestal, and a primitive namekian cabin began to take shape. The large hollow pill shaped building would soon be have doors and windows magically traced onto its surface by Helix's pointer finger, and the holes would be filled with bona fide namekian crystal!
The work from earlier had taken a toll on the namekian, and although the palace was by no means complete, it was a start. Helix sat comfortably on the pearly white floor of his new building and engaged in a bit of meditation, attempting to regain strength in order to finish the construction of his Hellbound home.
Perhaps an old acquaintance of his would stumble upon the hut; Helix couldn't help but grin at the idea of showing one of his companions the patch of namek he had created in the underworld. Soon enough, he would have a fully functioning Assija farm. Kizuki would love that.
But as the prophet closed his projected his mental presence out onto the open fields of Hell around him, his soul suddenly latched onto something peculiar.
Could he have a visitor in his new home so soon?
Heavy Weights! Kazoo
Luckily for the prophet, he knew for a fact he was to be leaving the literal hell hole soon enough. Xylo had a detailed plan, with little room for failure. Although Helix had first been informed what seemed like ages ago, the words were still fresh in his mind. He was going to meet his brother and some of his dark consorts at a suspicious mountain on the edge of Hell, and from there, he would be brought back to the world of the living.
His return was long overdue. Namekian society was likely falling apart without a leader, as Nai himself was now passed, and the saiyans were known to be running rampant across the planet.
But in all of Helix's eagerness to exit the underworld, he had still been unable to off put the desire to make this prison a home. Only hours earlier, Helix had begun the construction of a small palace in the underworld, modeled after typical namekian abodes.
Filling his hands with bountiful dripping white energy, Helix had bent the world to his will with telekinesis. Cracking off a mountain tip from nearby, the prophet had decided to use that as the base for his construction. Slice by slice, the namekian had tapped different parts of the colossal hunk of rock, chiseling off shreds of stone with a spiderweb of mystical energy.
Once he had formed a suitable pedestal for his palace, the dragon caste lowered it to the ground and let it drop, sending dust pluming into the air and listening to the vibrations that were projected across the plains of Hell. But this hunk of rock was no home!
Soon, Helix had scattered marbles of white mystic energy across the surrounding landscape, and from the barren red rocks of Hell soon sprung beautiful namekian trees. Harvesting the trees by hand, one by one Helix chopped down the necessary lumber, and pushed the logs into a boiling cauldron, in which they were melted down into a pearly white paste.
Levitating some of the white cement into the air, the namekian quickly sculpted a dome onto of the newly formed rock pedestal, and a primitive namekian cabin began to take shape. The large hollow pill shaped building would soon be have doors and windows magically traced onto its surface by Helix's pointer finger, and the holes would be filled with bona fide namekian crystal!
The work from earlier had taken a toll on the namekian, and although the palace was by no means complete, it was a start. Helix sat comfortably on the pearly white floor of his new building and engaged in a bit of meditation, attempting to regain strength in order to finish the construction of his Hellbound home.
Perhaps an old acquaintance of his would stumble upon the hut; Helix couldn't help but grin at the idea of showing one of his companions the patch of namek he had created in the underworld. Soon enough, he would have a fully functioning Assija farm. Kizuki would love that.
But as the prophet closed his projected his mental presence out onto the open fields of Hell around him, his soul suddenly latched onto something peculiar.
Could he have a visitor in his new home so soon?
Heavy Weights! Kazoo
