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Post by Deleted on Jun 27, 2015 19:41:04 GMT
PL; 3,594
Behind him, where the harsh plains of the North gave way to the jagged peaks of majestic mountains, a column of smoke rose into the air. Anyone with a scouter or the ability to sense Ki - or, in this case, anyone with eyes - would know something had happened. And leaving it behind was a red, jagged streak through the chill air. Tail out behind him, Boreal's lack of expression belied the turmoil that lay within his mind.
How had they found him here after all these years? Granted, it was a given. But he had anticipated not being worthy of being found.
Even in his suppressed state he still charted far and away above the majority of this planet. Humans had never been an inherently strong race, at least in so far as power was concerned. That did not discount those that did, however. He had wiled away the time here studying the past; ancient fighters of old, tournaments, conflict. That had been so long ago as to be ancient history, but he knew that simply through interbreeding the humans were trending upward on the scale of inherent ability.
That filthy monkey had ruined it though. Those poor books.
Spitting harshly towards the ground as if to desecrate the mere memory of the monkey he hoped burned still within his former home, he angled himself towards the South. His pod was there, and likely he'd be blamed for the fire. He actually was, but he didn't feel like explaining why it had come to spearing a Saiyan through the chest with a beam of energy. The humans had become quite xenophobic as of late, and he'd only been tolerated because he kept to himself.
No, today was not a good day. Even as the whites and greens of the landscape blurred together below him, only one thought came to mind.
There was no way this day could get worse.
Well, he supposed the strongest on Earth could show up, but he likely barely charted as a blip on their radar. That stoic expression changed, becoming almost hopeful. He simply needed to put distance between him and the smoke.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 27, 2015 20:11:12 GMT
[Thread PL- 12603] [Weights on- 1/4 of PL]
Drake sat back in a small log cabin. There was a coffee mug in his hand, still warm. The dark wooden floor was stained with the red of blood. The wooden structure allowing him to rest comfortable tipped back. He suddenly launched himself up with the power of his Ki. Maybe he should have been less rough with his victim. After all, he had broken the chair partially, he reflected to himself looking at one of the back leg's destroyed bottom. His feet lowered from the air, slowly touching the ground. He set off on a walk, his useless right leg sliding above the ground by using his flight as a crutch. His only arm, the left one, reached out and a blade flew from the dead man's chest into his hand again. The door groaned loudly with a creak, the crippled assasin walking into the new opening. Little bits of white rained down from the sky, spiraling on the air. He felt the frozen moisture land on his cold skin. A drop of dried blood was stained into his hand and melted snow landed perfectly on it.
He felt a tiny tremor travel through his bones, vibrating with the wrist as the source. He glanced at the 'scouter scanner' radar set on the limb. It showed a small blip close to him. A power level of about 3,500 it shows when he selected it for more details. He wondered what this person was doing out in the cold. He switched the power filter to beings such as humans and noticed where there was a small cluster there was none. He frowned and lifted himself into the sky. There had been a fight, that was obvious. But between who? Obviously the blip that was leaving was the victor, but what was the reason. He jetted off as fast as he could while his weights were on coming closer to the person.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 27, 2015 22:26:49 GMT
"Oh yes, I'm quite the rocket man." The changeling says to himself, humming a quiet tune under his breath as he flies. Talking to himself reminded him that in this form his tone was muffled, and the air rushing around him made it almost impossible for him to hear the words coming out of his mouth. But even as he created a streak of ki energy across the dreary Northern sky, he realized he was now being followed.
Whoever was following him seemed roughly analogous to him in terms of power, and that seemed odd. Perhaps this was a hero, come to 'save the day.'
Or maybe it was someone who simply was traveling the same way he was; the quickest way they knew how. That would make sense. There'd been a tournament on this planet not too long ago, but his sense of time was horrendous. Still, maybe it was a wayward tourist. Deep inside his gut, however, he knew that to not be true. This was someone coming straight after him, and for whatever reason... it likely wouldn't end well.
For who, however, he didn't know.
Suddenly halting his forward momentum and standing himself upright - though still hovering in mid-air - he turned towards the source of energy coming his way. Inhaling slowly, broad chest expanding as he did so, the Arcosian known to humans as Archive settled himself in for what was sure to be a fun visit with, well, hrm.
He didn't know who it was. He didn't know anyone with that power level on this planet. "Contestant number one, come on down." He mutters darkly to himself.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 28, 2015 21:36:18 GMT
Drake flew after the source. Who knew what this puny warrior could hold. Maybe he wasn't even small, maybe he was just wearing weights like he was. As he pumped more energy into his flight, he overcame the slowness that the weights always brought him. He felt air harden around him as he pressed up against it, his speed rising rapidly. As he came closer, the form became more distinct. He watched as the vague shape began sharpening, with limbs obvious. He frowned as he finally could tell what it was. Some sort of alien, not like the human looking Saiyan alien. This one was much more obvious, not to be mistaken for an alien. He browsed through his memory, trying to think of the different pictures he had seen. Arcosian. That's what he was seeing. Just like most alien's and non-humans, he had never seen one before. The Arcosian began to slow down and stopped, turning around to face him. He came to a complete halt too, his one arm hanging limply. The two warriors watched each other. He peered at him, unsure of the next course. Perhaps a friendly battle would be neccasary. Perhaps the friendly part wouldn't be required. He looked the possible foe up and down. "An Arcosian are you? Might be interested to fight. You seem hostile enough, considering I don't think that fire caused itself."
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Post by Deleted on Jun 29, 2015 0:05:38 GMT
A human, it seemed. An injured one at that. Most perplexing. A cripple who could fly and use his Ki - such an oddity. Almost temptingly curious; there were so many questions he could ask the man, but the actual queries never coalesced in his mind. Rather, he just kind of stared in blank surprise at the figure before him. This was not at all what he had anticipated. In fact, this was the polar opposite.
But he was being spoken to, which means he should be speaking back. That's how conversation worked, at least.
"The fire? An unfortunate side effect of someone mistaking me for both a pushover and a target." And that was about all the explanation that required. But part of him didn't want to fight a cripple. It would hardly be fair. "And where do you get off judging me like that." Boreal's voice was monotone, and hardly serious. "Hostility and defense are two separatethings. You've jumped to quite the conclusion based on the fact I'm leaving a smoking wreck.
Maybe I just have a phobia of fire."
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Post by Deleted on Jun 29, 2015 9:11:07 GMT
He watched the Arcosian carefully, not knowing much about the race itself. He gave a smile as he studied the face and watched a blank face formed. Perhaps he was surprised that a human could be strong, or that he was a cripple. He expected questions to come but it seemed the Arcosian hided this school mans instead confronted what he said. He listened carefully, wondering what he would say. It seemed that someone had decided to attack the alien. His eyes lot up as he heard him being referred to as a target. Subtly, his hand dropped down to his side. A knife floated out of a hidden pocket into his hand. "Target? Whatever would you be a target for? Think these guys have a bounty on you?" he said trying to not sound malicious. If he could make money off of this man, he would. The Arcosian then went on about how he shouldn't assume he had done something. "I highly doubt that's the reason considering you just said you were defending yourself. And I am not a very kind man. I have known almost none who didn't want to kill me."
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Post by Deleted on Jun 29, 2015 18:42:06 GMT
"Monkeys don't have an eye for identification. You see, here's the problem." The figure motioned to itself, spikes and all. As this was his suppressed form, he had shoulder and waistguards not unlike battle armor, and spikes coming not only from his head, but his shoulders. Red eyes blinked at the man, lips curling faintly under the mask that covered his mouth. "We all look so similar. Spikes. Androgyny. Names that are synonyms for cold. Really, it's not his fault.
The poor monkey didn't know any better." Waving a hand dismissively, the Arcosian folded his arms once more and shrugged.
"A shame, really. He never got the chance to learn." Then, he muttered darkly. "Not that he ever would." Clearing his throat, he looked back to the man.
"And are you going to put that knife away? Kudos to you for doing it in a manner I couldn't see, but I don't take kindly to knives being drawn presumably for use against me."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 1, 2015 2:06:51 GMT
Drake watched the alien, it motioning to itself. It told how how 'monkeys,' there was that term again, didnt have an eye for identification. He wasn't entirely sure if it meant humans or Saiyans. While the Saiyans it would seem to be the obvious choice, they also meant humans commonly. He was told about how all of the person's race looked the same. He nodded in agreement, he supposed it was true. They did look similar. Then the tone took a darker tone. Apparently the 'money,' didn't get to learn the difference. Suddenly his possible for noticed his move. He dropped the blade and it plunged down to the ground, but at the point where you couldn't tell he levitated it in place. "Ah, so you caught me. Good eyes. So what's your name? I'm Drake Heln.'
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Post by Deleted on Jul 1, 2015 13:48:33 GMT
"Archive. The humans call me Archive." The alien says, noting the gears turning in the injured man's mind. Perhaps he was confused by words - how like a human. Or, perhaps, he was mulling the consequences of assuming the creature before him was a target for someone.
Someone who could pay.
Tilting his head, fingers drumming on a forearm, Boreal flicked his chin towards the smoke that was scarcely visible from this distance. "I used to run that library. A pleasant, quiet place far from crowds of annoyance. Ruined! Absolutely ruined!" The creature was clearly distraught at the destruction of the literature, although not emotionally crippled.
He was taking it in stride. Everything ended sooner or later. "It's such a shame, Drake. My poor books, as useless as your arm."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 1, 2015 21:58:59 GMT
He nodded at the arcosian, learning his name. Archive, or atleast that's what they called him. He looked at the scooter again. Of course if battle were to happen he wound easily win. But something felt odd... If he had Ki Sense he might be able to have the notion that perhaps there was hidden power beneath the man, or perhaps true power deep inside it. Instead he had the scouted telling him one number. He frowned, who did he feel worried. He looked up and noticed it turned out te other started talking. He seemed to be upset about something, books. He remembered the dusty old books he had read through during his training. It was odd that such a creature cared about something so trivial- then he heard it. Of course assumptions had been made of him, considering his arm. He almost smiled but wanted to keep it discreet. So he had been underestimated. While he was a cripple, he was much more powerful than this. If he wanted he would be taking out the measly creature right now. But no, maybe for once he could play nice. "What were they after you for?" be asked ignoring the part about his arm
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Post by Deleted on Jul 1, 2015 22:08:56 GMT
"I haven't the faintest clue." Came the response. Not technically a lie. The individual in question hadn't given him an actual reason - he'd just said he was there for him. Of course, Boreal had postulated out what the reason was... but that didn't mean he knew for sure. So, while he was 'lying,' it was more like a half truth. Those were the best ways to get around things, because you gave off none of the overt surety of a liar.
Most people telling the truth didn't have all their facts straight. Boreal was banking on that man making the same assumption.
He did wish to not fight right now. He'd already had a ton of things go wrong today, he didn't need this to go wrong either.
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