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Post by Ginge on Apr 22, 2017 23:28:35 GMT
Late into the morning on Vegeta, the street was packed and bustling with activity. Residents of the capitol went about their business, some giving orders to soldiers and servants and others mumbling underneath their breath about who knew what. Others, mostly the aforementioned soldiers, carried on to take care of their own matters, many on their way to or from the launch pads, either leaving on a mission or returning from them.
Ginge was in her own category, as she made her way through the frustrating crowds in her new armor. It had taken several days, but her new armor had finally been finished, after being dropped to the bottom of the list several times. The black breastplate, with a dark brown color over the stomach and atop the short pauldrons, felt good to wear again. Without it, she'd felt naked; exposed. Now, she could show her face again, and do so proudly.
After a brief identify check, she was allowed into the landing pads site, and immediately made her way towards her own, personal ship. She hadn't been conscious for the landing, so she only knew what she'd been told after she'd awoken. To be honest, she didn't know what to expect to see, or whether or not the thing would even be in one piece.
However, much to her chagrin, the young Saiyan woman came to find the large, white sphere just where she'd been told to find it. In the back of a storage hanger, with a small card identifying her as its owner, she looked upon the ship in its unsurprising condition. The paint had been peeled by reentry time after time, and the metal was dented in more places than she could count. She didn't remember if that crack in the glass had been there before or not, but the overall judgement was the same, in the end.
"Poor baby." She cooed at the beaten machine, wrapping her arms around it as she did and rubbing her cheek against its side. "Don't you worry. Momma's goin' to make it all better." Before anyone had a chance to walk in and see her, she felt around the door until she'd found the release, and opened the pod to check its contents. Unfortunately, her scouter was nowhere to be seen. In his rush, Tomats must not have thought to grab the small computer.
"Damn." Ginge cursed underneath her breath. Well, she thought, the ship was intact. She could be happy with that much. After pushing the hatch closed again, she knelt and hoisted the great sphere onto her shoulder to carry it away. She rubbed its underside soothingly a little more before she'd come into view of anyone else, trying to remember the location of the nearest, cheapest shop that could fix up her ship.
Several hours later, after much wandering and backtracking, the young woman arrived at the mechanic near the outskirts of the city. It wasn't an astounding shop, but neither was she looking for such. The bearded, grizzled Saiyan man stepped out of the office beside the open-floored garage, just as she was about to call out for him.
"Oh, a customer." He almost growled the words matter of factly. The man walked with an odd limp in his left leg, and the many scars on his arms and face told his story well. Ginge grinned at the former soldier with a mild amount of respect as she neared.
"Yes, and a paying one, too, if you can tell me what it'll take to get this space worthy again." With more care than she'd ever given to a living creature, she set the pod down on the concrete floor and stepped aside for the man to perform his appraisal. He was quick to show his disapproval with a frown.
"What the hell'd you do to it? It looks like it an Oozaru used it as a damn club!" He exclaimed as he circled the pod, taking note of the severity of each damaged piece.
"I might as well have. An emergency landing missed the pads." She replied with a sour tone. With her arms crossed, her tail was left to flick back and forth in irritation as she awaited the older man's answer. Of course, there was more to the explanation, but she was still a little unsure about what exactly it was that she'd hit during the landing.
"Well, yours is an older model; built to last, I'd say. You're in luck." He explained as he opened the hatch and peered inside the small craft. She swore that she could hear his chuckling at the blood that still stained the seats and padding, and she smirked with a hint of pride.
After a few minutes and quite a bit of banging on the inside with a screwdriver taken from his pocket, the bearded mechanic climbed out of the pod and shut its hatch. He'd appeared to be deep in thought at first, which worried the young woman, but he was quick enough to speak that she didn't have time to dwell on it.
"Well, the outer armor seems fine and all, but your cage is damaged. I can flatten out the dents on the outside and replace the glass, though you'll need the seal replaced, too, but it's got no more than one more flight left in it, as it is." Again, he laid out the condition of the craft in no uncertain terms, speaking matter of factly in a way that was beginning to anger the woman.
"You can fix it, though, right?" Ginge retorted quickly. Her tail had ceased to flick, but was now looping reflexively around her side. Likewise, her hands gripped the flesh of her arms tightly. "I need this ship. I can't work without it."
"No." There it was again. His unwavering voice grated on her ears, as he denied her request. "I can make it look new, but without the cage, you're not going to be living through any landings. It'd be cheaper to buy a new pod than to take it apart and build a new one around a fresh cage."
The Saiyan woman's heart sunk, and quite visibly, at that. Her brown eyes swiveled between the older man and her pod, and she relaxed her arms as her anger sought to determine where it should lie. She'd feared hearing those words, or similar, all week. That's why she'd waited until now, but hearing them in person was more than she could bear. If she didn't have the money for a new pod, and she couldn't go on missions without it, then what was she going to do?
"What's it going to be, missy? I don't got all day." Now, the mechanic looked annoyed. He crossed his arms over his large chest and eyed her closely, his own tail taking its turn to wave back and forth in irritation.
Ginge didn't think about what to do next. The man's attitude had been getting on her nerves, and to be brushed aside when she was the only one around had been too much. As her anger flared, the old scouter lying in the office window began to beep rapidly, and she struck out quickly. Her fist had come to the man's chest in a blur, then he was gone and flying back into the garage before he'd known what had hit him. Though she didn't bother to look, it was unlikely that he'd be able to stand again for a while.
So, the Saiyan woman again hoisted the pod onto her shoulder and turned to leave. Surely, there would be ways to make zeni for a new ship. In the meantime, she only had to worry about her own survival. It would be easy, just like when she was a kid.
PL: 4,192
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Post by Ginge on Apr 22, 2017 23:29:53 GMT
Several days later, Ginge stood amongst a group of her brother and sister Saiyans. The red, midday sky was clear, allowing the heat of the sun to beat down on the crowd without mercy. The close proximity to one another only made the heat worse, as the crowd listened to the single speaker standing on a crate in the very center of them all.
“How long is he going to go on for?” The smaller woman groaned with her arms crossed, her tail wrapped around her waist to keep from being grabbed by others. For what she had come for, she hadn't thought that there would be so many rules. As far as she could tell, it all boiled down to a few simple things:
No flight. No large-scale attacks. Try not to kill.
To be honest, she didn't care for most of the rules that had been laid out for them. How was it a fight if there were rules? Restricting large-scale attacks seemed like a good idea, since there would be a lot of fighters in one area, but the restriction on flight puzzled her. Even without the ability to fly, herself, it just seemed needless and arbitrary.
Finally, the man had finished speaking, and Ginge raised her arms high to stretch her tense muscles before the matches began. She had already removed her breastplate, as had nearly everyone else, to make the fights more exciting. With only her boots, black spandex briefs and top, there would be nothing between her and her opponent's fist.
She could already feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her tail shivered a little in the excitement, and she palmed the few large bills that she'd brought with her for betting. If she could win just a few matches, then she'd be well on her way to purchasing a new ship, but her thoughts were anything but so small and simple. Already, she was thinking of the end of the day, where only herself and another fighter would be left standing.
Though it took some time, the zeni was eventually collected from everyone who would be participating. Those who would be abstaining from the fights, mostly non-Saiyans, would be placing their bets before the individual matches. The young woman tried not to laugh to herself while this was going on, though it seemed ridiculous how neat and orderly a so-called fight club would be. It was nothing like she'd imagined.
Finally, she stood across from a taller Saiyan man inside of the circle made up of their peers. The ring was small, if only for the crowd's inability to keep themselves back, but she wasn't bothered too much. With a wide, toothy grin on her face, she raised her fists into her preferred stance. Without a word, her opponent did the same, sliding into a low stance that still towered above her as they measured one another for weaknesses.
The two moved at once, closing what little space there had been between them in an instant as fists flew. Ginge blocked the man's blow with enclosed forearms, only for her own right jab to be pushed aside by his wrist. Another blow, this time from an open-palmed heel, flew by her face just barely as she dodged to the side. As she circled around the man's right, her fist struck out again, slamming into the larger Saiyan's temple just as his wrist spun and struck her similarly.
Both of the fighters moved to opposing sides of the circle. The young woman controlled her breathing, as she watched the larger man in great detail. He'd definitely had the advantage in reach, but her speed and mobility were the greater. She didn't want to win like that, though. Not only did it sound boring, but it'd have been too easy to keep circling her slower opponent. No, she wanted to do things differently.
As if on a cue, the two Saiyans charged one another again in tandem. Ginge easily closed the distance past his flying palm, then landed several blows to his body before taking a heavy knee to her own. As she retreated a half-step to adjust the range, his other leg came flying at the right of her head, and she blocked just barely with her forearm. However, with the moment bought by his kick, she struck out with her left, landing another blow underneath his arm before he could regain his footing, then followed with a hook from the right that caught the man's cheek.
The smaller Saiyan pressed her attack. Inside of the larger man's reach, she could keep him from putting as much weight into his blows. His knee continued to drive into her stomach from time to time, but she was wearing him down. The warmth of blood was on her knuckles, trickling down her hands as she struck her opponent again and again, until finally, he attempted to flee and catch his breath.
Grinning as wide as ever, her brown eyes told all as she gave chase in their small arena. Her blood was boiling, and mercy would be the last thing she'd show to an opponent. With a swift kick, she caught the backside of his knee, bringing the man low enough that her fist could more easily find the side of his head.
With a loud, wet smack, her bloodied punch connected, and he fell to the ground. She'd knocked out her opponent, cold.
Ginge stood over the unconscious man for a few more seconds, her hands still raised defensively and her breathing heavy. After two seconds... No, five... Once it appeared that he wouldn't be standing again, she lowered her arms and heaved a breathy chuckle. Her heart pounded at her chest and ears, and now that it was over, she was aware of the small trickle of blood on her lip, and the taste of copper in her mouth. She wiped the latter away on the back of her wrist.
“Who's next?” She called out to the onlookers, excited to see more eager eyes than fearful. Yes, she thought, this had been a good idea, after all. Taking the money offered to her for her win, she stowed the bills into the collar of her top, then turned to acknowledge the newcomer into her arena.
He was large, too. The Saiyan man wasn't quite as tall as the last, but he was much more broad and muscular. He smiled down at the woman, and she grinned in return. The crowd began speaking loudly, as people placed bets on whether or not the younger woman could win a second match in a row, but she didn't care to listen too closely.
While she raised her arms like the last time, he held his own aloft and to each side. With so many different fighters gathered in one place, she should've expected a great variety of styles. The woman licked her lip in anticipation from behind her hands, and her opponent was the first to move, this time.
A couple of hours later, Ginge sat amidst a much smaller group than before. There were, maybe, ten of them in total, mostly Saiyans. A few of the men and women that she'd fought during the day were present, and they all laughed at the stories of past fights and battles that were being told. Nearly all of the group were covered in bruises, cuts and welts from the matches, and Ginge was no exception. Over the course of her numerous wins and losses during the day, her lip had been busted, one eye was blackened and the recent injury in her shoulder had been aggravated.
However, she didn't regret a single thing. She joined in on the story telling, all the while holding a bloodied rag to the side of her head and thinking about the large wad of zeni stuffed into her top. At the end of it all, she'd had fun, even if they weren't allowed to kill one another. Maybe, she might make a habit of doing this sort of thing in the future.
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Queen Habana
Moderator
Queen of the Evil Space Monkey People Special Item: GPW Universal Championship Belt
PL: 415,489
Dark Power(x4); M.SSj(x14); U.SSj(x18/12), SSJ2 (x27)
Zeni: 0
Tag: @habana
Posts: 1,374
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Post by Queen Habana on Apr 30, 2017 1:12:52 GMT
Ginge | WC: 2655 | Zeni Gains: 1,991 | New Zeni: 2,491 In the future please do not break up your solo into multiple posts.
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