Post by Tomoka on Sept 18, 2017 20:02:36 GMT
"GRAAAA!!!!" he screamed, his fist connecting with the chest of the man, letting out a wheeze as he was thrown back, tumbling in the opposite direction. In response, two more men came running at him only for him to launch a set of energy blasts that would put both back on the ground. Any normal fight with normal people would end with those two men being dead, but since all of them had already faced the harsh reality of their death, the man who fired those blasts knew that within a few minutes, they'd be back up. And when they did get back up, they would either continue this senseless fight, or leave.
Tomoka hoped that, unlike previously, the 10 or so Saiyan grunts who had decided to pick a fight with him would choose the wiser option, and leave. Okay, this was a complete lie. Tomoka had needed someone to fight. He had spent to much time searching, and in a way, it wasn't that the Saiyans had picked a fight with him, but they had picked a fight with each other.
Tomoka had simply been walking, before he had spotted a sight he thought he would only see once he figured out a way to escape from the prison that he liked to call death. One he wouldn't be happy to see, because he knew that he would only ever see it on the battlefield. Yet, here it was: Saiyans. Almost a dozen of them, talking loudly and getting into fistfights. Tomoka had been over in microseconds, and had begun babbling out word after word after word. But, there was one thing these men noticed: the insignia marked on the chest plate of his armor.
When they had noticed this, they'd become increasingly more violent towards him, and Tomoka had responded with hostility. They were dead, it didn't matter. His nihilism and irrational rage had indirectly taken over, and... well, what happened next wasn't pretty.
One of the men who had been taunting him... he hadn't done anything different. He wasn't the first to join in, or the last. He didn't call him anything in particular, he didn't do anything that made him especially mad. But, he had said it at just the wrong time. For, as the phrase forming had finally uttered his lip, he would find himself unable to do another. As he had finished, an almost unseeable event occured: Tomoka's hand had pulled back, forming straight, almost into a blade. He didn't use ki at all, just raw, physical power. And, he would use that power to thrust forward with unimaginable speed, and force.
As it connected with the man's neck, it would slowly push through. The skin would break, flesh would tear, and blood would automatically begin spewing from the opened wound, all in the event of a split second. As this was happening, the eyes of the men would begin to widen, and as it ended, with their comrade's head being pulled off to the side as Tomoka pulled his hand like an axe from a trunk, they would all react with what was expected: fear.
Meanwhile, Tomoka pushed himself into the air, panting. What he had just done had taken all his strength, and he would need to recover. Unfortunately, the men who weren't completely shellshocked had begun yelling at him, flying up to treat Tomoka to a similar, equally gruesome fate.
Their assault began with punches and kicks, ones that Tomoka found absolutely pitiful, ones that Tomoka would've had trouble with when he first landed on Namek, all those months ago. Still, he wasn't sure if it had been months, years or decades. And neither did he care anymore. At least, this part didn't.
With some breathe recovered, he would begin to throw the occasional punch and kick back at them, most of them actually managing to hit. And so, they found themselves in a fight that they desperately wanted to win, but couldn't. A fight that they felt as if they had to fight, but wouldn't be able to. Not after death...
And so, that was where Tomoka was now. Fighting a group of idiots, who were fighting for the sake of fighting. And the only reason Tomoka sped away from them was because he realized the futility of it all...
OOC: didn't turn out as I planned, but I won't waste a perfectly good thread. PL with AL bonus please!
Tomoka hoped that, unlike previously, the 10 or so Saiyan grunts who had decided to pick a fight with him would choose the wiser option, and leave. Okay, this was a complete lie. Tomoka had needed someone to fight. He had spent to much time searching, and in a way, it wasn't that the Saiyans had picked a fight with him, but they had picked a fight with each other.
Tomoka had simply been walking, before he had spotted a sight he thought he would only see once he figured out a way to escape from the prison that he liked to call death. One he wouldn't be happy to see, because he knew that he would only ever see it on the battlefield. Yet, here it was: Saiyans. Almost a dozen of them, talking loudly and getting into fistfights. Tomoka had been over in microseconds, and had begun babbling out word after word after word. But, there was one thing these men noticed: the insignia marked on the chest plate of his armor.
When they had noticed this, they'd become increasingly more violent towards him, and Tomoka had responded with hostility. They were dead, it didn't matter. His nihilism and irrational rage had indirectly taken over, and... well, what happened next wasn't pretty.
One of the men who had been taunting him... he hadn't done anything different. He wasn't the first to join in, or the last. He didn't call him anything in particular, he didn't do anything that made him especially mad. But, he had said it at just the wrong time. For, as the phrase forming had finally uttered his lip, he would find himself unable to do another. As he had finished, an almost unseeable event occured: Tomoka's hand had pulled back, forming straight, almost into a blade. He didn't use ki at all, just raw, physical power. And, he would use that power to thrust forward with unimaginable speed, and force.
As it connected with the man's neck, it would slowly push through. The skin would break, flesh would tear, and blood would automatically begin spewing from the opened wound, all in the event of a split second. As this was happening, the eyes of the men would begin to widen, and as it ended, with their comrade's head being pulled off to the side as Tomoka pulled his hand like an axe from a trunk, they would all react with what was expected: fear.
Meanwhile, Tomoka pushed himself into the air, panting. What he had just done had taken all his strength, and he would need to recover. Unfortunately, the men who weren't completely shellshocked had begun yelling at him, flying up to treat Tomoka to a similar, equally gruesome fate.
Their assault began with punches and kicks, ones that Tomoka found absolutely pitiful, ones that Tomoka would've had trouble with when he first landed on Namek, all those months ago. Still, he wasn't sure if it had been months, years or decades. And neither did he care anymore. At least, this part didn't.
With some breathe recovered, he would begin to throw the occasional punch and kick back at them, most of them actually managing to hit. And so, they found themselves in a fight that they desperately wanted to win, but couldn't. A fight that they felt as if they had to fight, but wouldn't be able to. Not after death...
And so, that was where Tomoka was now. Fighting a group of idiots, who were fighting for the sake of fighting. And the only reason Tomoka sped away from them was because he realized the futility of it all...
OOC: didn't turn out as I planned, but I won't waste a perfectly good thread. PL with AL bonus please!