|
Post by Hiruen on Jan 11, 2014 3:31:00 GMT
It had seemed so much longer in desolate loneliness, the only thing that could have possibly held the strands of sanity together was the overwhelming need for a level thought process. Tried and tested time and time again, the prince had departed from his home-world nearly a decade before, a weakling. Inside the spherical confines of his craft, he recalled the gruff voice of his sire whilst it spoke the very word into his ear so that his mind might process the offense. Zasho Koregutsu II had accepted the very fact that he, indeed, was without strength. It was the acceptance of his state that had driven him across a dozen worlds in his quest that had allowed him to deny the title weakling, to grasp what was rightfully his. . .
"Power," his chapped lips murmured, the tongue tasting the word as it flowed up from his lungs, o'er his vocals, and into the tiny space that surrounded him, and outside that, the bleak and black darkness of space. Each passing second took the royal Saiyan closer to a home that had always seemed to wish him no welcome.
Many a sleepless night had been spent pondering the hurtful fact that his people, and more importantly his father, turned their back upon him in a variety of fashions. A hurtful utterance of word, a disgusted look, a chuckle; one and the same. Zasho's mother had coddled him and hid him from the harsh realities of Vegeta, but she had been unable to hide him from the life of a Saiyan when he departed from her loving arms and landed upon Jarus III.
The planet had been chosen specifically for the boy, and for twenty seven days his carriage had streaked through space until it arrived, burning through the atmosphere. Into the lush foliage it had crashed, breaking through tree trunks and dense earth before it came to rest. The scouting party to investigate the arrival of the unknown had been demolished easily enough, but the first village had proven too much.
For the first time in his young life, Zasho was not given the comforting arms of his mother in wake of crushing defeat. Instead, he was battered and bruised until he had no choice but to run for his life, and run he did. To the safety of his pod and then to the safety of the dark blanket of space, the child rested and healed from the grievous wounds, the first he had ever received.
The sleepless nights ceased when the child came to the realization that the beating he had endured during his first true battle on Jarus III. To become strong, he would need to truly push himself to the limits of his mind and body. The natives had been the first to do so, and they were the first to fall to the galactic rampage of the young prince as he slowly transitioned to manhood.
The child had left Vegetasei a weakling. . .
The pod bounced against the reinforced landing pad, each leap shorter as it came to rest. Two Saiyan guards stood poised, their fist and forearm 'cross their chests in the salute of their people. Hydraulics hissed, and the hatch of the pod opened with the power of all the glorious machinery within as two hands grasped the outside and pulled the future king of the Saiyan people into the light of twin suns.
“What does the scouter say about my battle power, soldier?” The firstborn son of Zasho Koregutsu I asked nonchalantly, though the soldier he had directed his question towards had been the first of his kind he had seen in oh, so long~
|
|
Zucceta
Administrator
PL: 379,083
Oozaru(x10) MSSj(x15) S.Ooz(x22) SSj2(25x)
Zeni: 2290
Tag: @admin
OOC Name: therevolution
Posts: 2,309
|
Post by Zucceta on Jan 11, 2014 18:23:10 GMT
670 PL gained here...
2170 PL.
BEGIN THE BLOODFESTIVAL
|
|