Post by Tomoka on Feb 1, 2017 5:28:52 GMT
Planet Vegeta: 1000
He dreams.
He dreams of many things. He dreams of a life he can barely remember, on a planet he can no longer remember the name of. He knows why he went, but he forgets why he continued.
He dreams of persecution, of a single boy, in a single crowd, on a single world, being ostracized, and thinking if there were those beyond who felt the same, not wanting to be oppressed, but to be... the oppressor.
He dreams of planets, far and wide, orbiting a star. And that star processes energy, raw and powerful, going on and on. And that star orbits a black hole, a black hole that swallows all that approach it, not even light being able to escape.
And he dreams of himself, atop all of them.
Tomoka woke with a start in his bunk. It was the day after graduation. He had stuck behind at the school for a day, preparing to gather his belongings, and the new ones that he'd be given. He walked out in his black jumpsuit, a replacement from the one he'd been wearing for the past 10 years.
He walks to his locker, in the gymnasium, where he enters the code: 1618.
The locker doors open, revealing to him his battlesuit: the chest, black as night and the void of space, while his shoulder and leg pads are red as blood, with a separate crotch guard of the same red hugh. Coming with it are a pare of gloves and boots, a stylish bright red with a black overshadow that covers the tips of the fingers, and the tips of the boots.
Atop it, rests the device that will allow his fight or flight instincts to make the right decision: the scouter, the tool that had been used to prove he was a weakling up until only a few years before.
As he slips the battle suit above his head and down his chest and the crotch guard up his was waste, his tale wraps around himself, and he holds the device of his torment. He rubs the red lense with his fingers, pressing the various buttons. He reads his own, smirking. What he had read was only half his power, the only thing that people would ever see of him. The scouter was flawed in this way, but, never the less, it was useful to the average warrior. So, like any warrior with common sense, Tomoka uses the tools he is given, clipping it to his ear.
He than walks into the bathroom, where he remembers being beaten on the floor on numerous occasions. He looks to the sink, where the mirror stands above it. He stares, at a man he recognizes. Not at who he was, but at who he wanted to become.
No... accurately, a stepping stone. No, better still: the stage of a metamorphosis to a higher being.
The deep thinking had gotten boring, and he chuckled.
"Same old, same old," he mumbled, and he flexed his muscles in the mirror, doing various poses. "Hua, hey, ha!" He went, just as he did a rather ridiculous pose in which he stuck his head through his legs.
At that, a fellow classmate walked in, with a few others. He was silent for a moment as they stared. He than grinned.
"What's a matter gentlemen? I thought only fags stared at a man's ass for so long." he says, and they all laugh.
"Looking like a true planet killer in that, aren't ya?" Asks one.
"I already am, smartass!" he punches him in the shoulder jokingly and they laugh again, remembering his low born status.
For years, he had stood in isolation, in despair, in the void. He had always asked what he could do, to one god or another, and realized that only he could change his fate.
And so, he did. And for it, he was rewarded.
And soon, he would be rewarded completely.
He dreams of many things. He dreams of a life he can barely remember, on a planet he can no longer remember the name of. He knows why he went, but he forgets why he continued.
He dreams of persecution, of a single boy, in a single crowd, on a single world, being ostracized, and thinking if there were those beyond who felt the same, not wanting to be oppressed, but to be... the oppressor.
He dreams of planets, far and wide, orbiting a star. And that star processes energy, raw and powerful, going on and on. And that star orbits a black hole, a black hole that swallows all that approach it, not even light being able to escape.
And he dreams of himself, atop all of them.
Tomoka woke with a start in his bunk. It was the day after graduation. He had stuck behind at the school for a day, preparing to gather his belongings, and the new ones that he'd be given. He walked out in his black jumpsuit, a replacement from the one he'd been wearing for the past 10 years.
He walks to his locker, in the gymnasium, where he enters the code: 1618.
The locker doors open, revealing to him his battlesuit: the chest, black as night and the void of space, while his shoulder and leg pads are red as blood, with a separate crotch guard of the same red hugh. Coming with it are a pare of gloves and boots, a stylish bright red with a black overshadow that covers the tips of the fingers, and the tips of the boots.
Atop it, rests the device that will allow his fight or flight instincts to make the right decision: the scouter, the tool that had been used to prove he was a weakling up until only a few years before.
As he slips the battle suit above his head and down his chest and the crotch guard up his was waste, his tale wraps around himself, and he holds the device of his torment. He rubs the red lense with his fingers, pressing the various buttons. He reads his own, smirking. What he had read was only half his power, the only thing that people would ever see of him. The scouter was flawed in this way, but, never the less, it was useful to the average warrior. So, like any warrior with common sense, Tomoka uses the tools he is given, clipping it to his ear.
He than walks into the bathroom, where he remembers being beaten on the floor on numerous occasions. He looks to the sink, where the mirror stands above it. He stares, at a man he recognizes. Not at who he was, but at who he wanted to become.
No... accurately, a stepping stone. No, better still: the stage of a metamorphosis to a higher being.
The deep thinking had gotten boring, and he chuckled.
"Same old, same old," he mumbled, and he flexed his muscles in the mirror, doing various poses. "Hua, hey, ha!" He went, just as he did a rather ridiculous pose in which he stuck his head through his legs.
At that, a fellow classmate walked in, with a few others. He was silent for a moment as they stared. He than grinned.
"What's a matter gentlemen? I thought only fags stared at a man's ass for so long." he says, and they all laugh.
"Looking like a true planet killer in that, aren't ya?" Asks one.
"I already am, smartass!" he punches him in the shoulder jokingly and they laugh again, remembering his low born status.
For years, he had stood in isolation, in despair, in the void. He had always asked what he could do, to one god or another, and realized that only he could change his fate.
And so, he did. And for it, he was rewarded.
And soon, he would be rewarded completely.
Planet Vegeta: 1300
Tomoka was a free man. Able to pursue his own conquests... for the time being. Mandatory servitude was required for males above the age of 15, and him being 16 already, it wasn't long before the saiyan higher ups would decide that they were finished waiting. But he figured that he had enough time to do what he needed to do...
Tomoka had been given the small sum of 500 zeni, with a single use pod. This was, of course, not much at all. But it was all he required.
Tomoka had gone out to the landing pad, his ship waiting for him. He pulled the control from the pocket hidden where only people with... strange desires would look: the underside of his crotch guard.
Tomoka put in the same code to all things he owned: 1618. The door opened, and he slipped in. He had eaten for an hour, devouring as much as possible. He would need the energy for the trip he was planning. The door closed as he sat, grinning as he kicked back and relaxed. He would be spending a long time in this pod, and after the training he had done to prepare, combined with the food he had eaten, it was time for him to kick back and... digest.
Tomoka set in the coordinates to his destination, and he grinned as the pod hovered in the air. The pod spun for a moment, and than, suddenly, shot up into the atmosphere. He was traveling at speeds he had never thought were possible. He had never flown this high before, but he had done it on occasion. His pod shot into the void of space, the stars a blur as his ship moved faster and faster. He smiled, and let out a "WOOHOO!"
Tomoka's journey to Namek... had begun.
Tomoka had been given the small sum of 500 zeni, with a single use pod. This was, of course, not much at all. But it was all he required.
Tomoka had gone out to the landing pad, his ship waiting for him. He pulled the control from the pocket hidden where only people with... strange desires would look: the underside of his crotch guard.
Tomoka put in the same code to all things he owned: 1618. The door opened, and he slipped in. He had eaten for an hour, devouring as much as possible. He would need the energy for the trip he was planning. The door closed as he sat, grinning as he kicked back and relaxed. He would be spending a long time in this pod, and after the training he had done to prepare, combined with the food he had eaten, it was time for him to kick back and... digest.
Tomoka set in the coordinates to his destination, and he grinned as the pod hovered in the air. The pod spun for a moment, and than, suddenly, shot up into the atmosphere. He was traveling at speeds he had never thought were possible. He had never flown this high before, but he had done it on occasion. His pod shot into the void of space, the stars a blur as his ship moved faster and faster. He smiled, and let out a "WOOHOO!"
Tomoka's journey to Namek... had begun.