Zasho Hirugetsu
Archived
PL: 22,404; Oozaru(x10): 424,040; Items:One-Use Space Pod, Heavy Weights (4th of PL), Scouter; Zeni: 0
Tag: @zouren
Posts: 112
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Post by Zasho Hirugetsu on Feb 6, 2015 20:12:57 GMT
Heavy Weights : 8,770 Power Level
The sun beamed down over the harsh desert, the winds whipping at the sands and churning them into miniature, yellowed tornadoes on occasion. The hour was noon, the temperature was high, and the Saiyan was prepared both mentally and physically to finally test himself against one of the comrades he had gained during his short time on this backwater planet known to the four quadrants as Earth. A tiny rock in the black vacuum of space surrounding it, the planet itself had seen titanic clashes of differing ideals since the days of old.
Today would see another, though the ideals of the combatants quite similar.
The ideals? To gain strength so new heights of power might be realized, so enemies would be trampled underneath their oppressive, violent footfalls! The pair meant to come to blows this day were Saiyans, one simply Zucceta, death herself, a creature driven by a thirst for revenge! The other, a warrior of the Hirugetsu bloodline, the epic meeting of Hiruen and Koregutsu, Saiyan nobility, a seeker of the strength boasted by his ancestors!
The aforementioned stood determined, eager to test his doshi against his own ability and she against his! The sands battering his armored figure were ignored as sweat ran down his exposed skin, the heavy boots upon his feet, the gloves upon his hands, weighing him and strengthening him by the moment. His strength had begun to surge to a pinnacle unheard of, but still he hungered for more. The scouter over his right eye began to twitter and beep as the artificial intelligence within the computing systems as it offered information into his ear.
"Lady Death approaches, Zasho," her own demeanor just as excited as that of her master.
Hirugetsu smiled at the number flashing over the lens, a power rivaling his own though slightly higher; it made no matter! The pair were close enough to truly enjoy a combat between them, a test of skill. With a low growl Hirugetsu lit a cyan flame about his body as sand retreated from his force. The aura was channeled, his grip expanding as his greeting exploded to life within his palms.
The hello of Zasho Hirugetsu was issued to Zucceta as he hurled two energy spheres in her general direction as a pleased chuckle rolled up from his lungs, through his throat, and past his lips. He meant to waste no time speaking, Zasho yearned for conflict this very moment.
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Zucceta
Administrator
PL: 379,083
Oozaru(x10) MSSj(x15) S.Ooz(x22) SSj2(25x)
Zeni: 2290
Tag: @admin
OOC Name: therevolution
Posts: 2,309
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Post by Zucceta on Feb 8, 2015 22:45:06 GMT
(10499 PL w. weights)
Today was the day. Zucceta, saiyan anomaly, a being who had defied the jaws of her death, her title's namesake, at least twice in her life, having thrived on a world renowned for besting lower-class saiyan warriors in their infancy and emerging victorious and vicious, a bona fide success of saiyan warrior rite even when the intent had been for an early demise, an authentic biological war machine, the epitome of aeons of warrior culture, a psychopath whose tendencies were enabled by her upbringing and hired by her very own government. She was to fight Zasho, a noble Hirugetsu, a family whose name even she knew: ancient legacy claimed they were the descendants of gods among men. Did that name denote privilege and status to Zasho? Perhaps, and undeniably far more than Zucceta had been born with.
But one of the long-lasting legacies of King Boliko Koregutsu's regime had been the partial break-down of class boundaries. Although it was rare, it was possible for those born with a low-class power-level to eventually gain the actual status of an elite, rather than just the prerequisite power level being ignored in the face of your birth power. In the last ten years of her life, after her initiation into the covert unit Apocalypse Incorporated, she had been promoted to the rank of elite and endowed with all the social privileges this bestowed. However, Lady Death did not know what to make of her increased status: so what for more comfortable accommodation or better food? She would still be putting her fist through alien children all the same.
Honestly, Zucceta had little notion of economic privilege; the one true socialist.
The saiyaness was positively filled with a burning passion this day. She wanted to prove herself to one who would once have been her superior; even after her promotion, she was regarded in a way that 'old money' regards 'new money', her social status still scorned by old noble families. Still, she felt that Zasho respected her in a way most with noble names did not; and she, him. He acted in a way that seemed to carry the honor of his family's progenitors, and while she cared not for her own personal honor, she respected it in others. She had even enjoyed those myths of his ancestors, passed down and told on occasion, what might have passed for a substitute for a history lesson.
The sand blasted her face, heated wind whipping her long, unruly hair and great pony-tail. Zucceta could already feel her blood pumping with legendary expectance. It had been too long since she had a fight with a true saiya-jin: Toma hardly counted, and nor, really, did her own introduction to Orache and the nobleman who quickly came into sight range.
Her every muscle felt taut and ready; a rich layer of musculature barely hidden by her femininity. Her power was similarly suppressed as Zasho's, great enhanced training weights adorning both wrists and adjacent ankles.
She lands relatively softly into the earth, but sand still billows up around her, whipping with her jagged neutral-white aura.
"Senpai," she purrs, the saiya-jin dialect literally meaning senior colleague, though that was to be determined. The honorific was mostly ironic, but not intended in a harsh way: a mere reminder of their former situations. She didn't expect Zasho to reply verbally, and he didn't; she was always the communicator in most situations, quipping darkly humorous statements to the soon-to-be-dead.
The elite released a number of blasts her way; Zucceta thrust her right hand to the side, immediately generating a razor-blade technique from her palm, forming into the shape of a scythe. With two swift slashes, two blasts become four; but trail harmlessly to either side of the battle-won master of combat, detonating in the sand and whipping up the storm. The sand covering her form, Zucceta hoped it would come to her advantage as she dashes forward, taking a low position and intending to swing at his gut with her blade, her free arm loosely pulled against her chest for a minimum of defense.
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Zucceta
Administrator
PL: 379,083
Oozaru(x10) MSSj(x15) S.Ooz(x22) SSj2(25x)
Zeni: 2290
Tag: @admin
OOC Name: therevolution
Posts: 2,309
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Post by Zucceta on May 19, 2015 20:24:59 GMT
(zenni pls)
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Post by Deleted on May 19, 2015 20:38:48 GMT
CONGRATS! Zucceta you typed 681 words and earned a total of 801 Zeni, DON'T SPEND IT ALL IN ONE PLACE!
Zasho, please alert me as to what you'd like.
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