Jala jumped out of the arena, walking away as her ki sludge aura, slowly trickled down and off her. She was pissed as the electricity crackled around her, emitting a huge power from her. “As soon as I step into this form… Instant stopping of match. Tch, damn Vargas’ and there timer’s… If this was an actual fight, I woulda curbed stomped that wanna be fighter.”
She continues down the corridor, judging herself on her fight and what she did wrong, growing anxious at the judges. Most of the people there were spectators and a couple fighters but she paid the peons no mind. “Hmmm… I’m still a bit pissed… I wish I had someone to beat on to release this anger…” she muttered, venom lacing her voice as she walked, not caring who was in her path.
Chai Hey there Goat Man... I need a punching bag. Transformations: SSJ2 PL: 6,750,000 *Continuation from Tourny fight!*
After meeting with Bell and having a... sparring match against Commander Habana from Universe Three, Chai, of course, had to go heal up for a few minutes with his friend. Guardia was now taking his turn in the healing tank, leaving the goat to watch some of the recordings of the matches on the television. He was really invested in Collan's fight against Jala, hoping and cheering on his partner from the sidelines rather passionately the entire time. Alas, neither were fast enough, and now it was up to the judges in the break hour before Round Two.
Chai strolled down the corridors of the Middle League fighter bay, flipping open his journal and taking a few more notes as he strolled along. The little green book had pulled him through the thick and thin- he was awful grateful to whoever wrote it, whoever planned out the Universe Hopper to begin with, and whoever was that instilling hope in his life that brought him to where he was now.
He could feel his power crackling still, but restrained. His match was the first one for Round Two's Middle League, against some Pin fella. Chai hadn't heard the name, but he was hoping he wasn't a dirty fighter of the sort. The zoanthrope looked down at a band around his wrist, pulsating with an occasioanal flash of red energy- a device made by the Vargas to forcefully restrain the power of a fighter. If they wanted to, they'd be able to power down the zoanthrope remotely with the flip of a switch. Chai shook his head with a faint smile, though. At least a weak little earthling like himself stood a fighting chance this way.
Chai stood back up tall, only to bump into someone as he took his first steps back into the hallway beside the training hanger, dropping his journal with a quick bleat of surprise. "Oh- pardon me, miss, uh..." Chai spoke to excuse himself politely, only to find he had bumped into a enraged, unrestrained Super Saiyan Two- the one Collan was fighting as well. "...Jala, I think? Correct me if I'm wrong." He smiled, bending down to pick up the green record book, holding it close to his chest. "...Hoo boy, you sure don't seem happy. H-how about we go get some ice cream to cool down, on me? The Vargas REALLY know how to make food, I'll tell you that!" He smiled, fiddling in his pocket for some spare Zeni with another meek smile. Maybe after he cooled her down, he'd be able to talk to her about the... way she treated his friend Collan as well. But that was for later. "...If not, that's fine too, and I'll be on my way."
He strolled down the hallway like a train slides across the tracks, inevitable, confident, he'll reach his destination even if something or someone gets caught on his tracks, 'calling all stops, choo, choo'.
He wore a loose fitting shirt with the phrase 'let's rock' with a picture of three rocks with varying hairstyles ranging from metal to punk, it was groan-worthy and left one wanting to pinch their nose and sigh, ‘how could the world come to this’, but far stranger than that was the circlet of light above his head, it marked him out as one of the deceased, he had been dead up until recently and only given leave of it to join the tournament.
He heard it “I’m still pissed” Muttering to themselves, someone was on the verge of a mental break down, and he wanted to be there to see the fireworks. He looked at the Saiyen with mild amusement, then he heard the voice, that voice was like the sound of a mother’s voice, it pulled you back to a time you were smaller, weaker, more innocent. It was him, it was always him. “There a scoop for me Chai?” his hands balled into fists, his nails biting into the skin of his palm, he wanted to rush him, take him while he was still orientating on his voice, he who had ruined everything for him.
“You didn’t expect to see me again did you, I mean it's not every day you get to see the man you killed twice.”
He pressed his fingers together pulling his pointer behind his thumb before reaching up to flink the halo on his head, it passed through it, not even a sound. “How does it look, a bit goofy no, the horns don’t match it do they?”
He gave him a rueful smile. “I thought about it long and hard what I’d say to you if I ever got the chance, I thought I might come up with a witty insult, maybe a threat.” he reached up to stroke his chin like he was pondering an important question. “That I was going to carve a path of carnage through the galaxy in your name. But that’s not what I want to ask you.”
“How did it feel, was it everything I told you’d it be, was it freedom of a kind?”
Death didn’t care, it was the bored administrator, it was the clerk who ticked boxes, it didn’t deal in things like an honorable death, a worthy death, a clean death. We all died with pants around our ankles in one way or another. It took the good, the bad, and the ugly. But yet here he was, rearing his ugly head once more, so. Here I stand.
"Do you believe in fate Chai, I believe we're fated to do it all over again, just a different crowd this time."
Jala bumped into Chai and looked up at him, just staring at him, the liquidly sludge aura now was building up around her feet, letting off a light glow; the aura nearly touching Chai. “... Yes? Chai is it? Yes, you look like my Chai… I had only a brief interaction with mine.” she said calmly.
Her calm attitude betrayed the enraged, unrestrained power she released, almost contradictory. “Yes. Jala is the name. Is there something you need, or did you just want to bother me?... Wow, you can see I’m not in a good mood. What are you, a fucking wizard? But sure, I’ll take some free food.” she said interested in the food.
Ice cream sounded good and cold. Maybe she could convince the goat to fight her over the bite to eat. “Hn? More people?” she muttered, turning slightly to see another person with a halo, signature of the dead. “A dead man? Ohhh! Is it possible to kill a dead person in the land of the living~? If we fight, I’d love to figure it out.” she joked darkly.
She let the demon talk, amused at his reactions at Chai. “Hahaha. This is pretty funny. What’s your retort Goat Man? I’m curious~.” she said playfully, winking at Chai hoping to mess and tease with him.
Post by Pracross Yendatta on Dec 17, 2017 17:33:15 GMT
[Anger Management] Pracross Thread PL - 44,650 Gain Bonuses - HW Current PL - Suppressed to 10 (100,000) Tempest PL - 100,000 (50,000) Current Event - Celestial Form - None It was official. Pracross was depressed. The events of this past month were taking too much of a toll of the usually joyful Saiyan. Vegeta, Konats, Chai, Kira, Jican… Everything seemed to just go… wrong. Needless to say, Pracross needed a friend, so he once more seeked refuge from his goat mentor.
The teen refused to look up from the floor, his eyes cold and bland as he walked down the quiet halls. Why was everything so messed up? Jican seemed so desperate to win, hell, he almost Super Saiyan in trying to win. It was honestly a little terrifying. He wanted Shibo back so badly and all Pracross did was say no. “Dammit Jican, I just wanted to help…” The boy growled and punched a wall, leaving a small crater in it. He’d held back. What a waste of anger…
Pracross leaned on the corner that lead to the middle league stay-ins, where three fighters were starting to gather. The Saiyan was listening in to them, finding two voices familiar. One was Chai, that was for sure, but the other one stumped him. The energy wasn’t one he remember though, so it was definitely someone he hasn’t seen in while… Pracross only had one feeling going through him as he thought about it. Fear. An energy with a bulking amount and another one that felt evil didn’t bode well for him.
It only readied a recipe for disaster.
The Saiyan teen turned the corner hesitantly, his cosmic scarf pulling on his neck since he was pushing it against the wall with his elbow. As the boy layed eyes on Mammon, it all made sense. The voice was the same as the Demon who seeked to destroy Vegeta only so far back. The room, er, hall, got a lot tenser as he approached the forming circle. As he walked to Chai, the sword on his back glew with anger, but quickly suppressed it as Pracross looked back at it.
The Saiyan looked at Mammon and the Saiyan in front of him. Was this that high energy he’d felt earlier? “Hi there, you two… Hope I'm not interrupting anything but...” With any luck, Mammon wouldn’t even recognize the boy with a different outfit, weapon, and power… But it was still the same energy and face it's always been, so Pracross didn’t put his hopes up too high. “I just need to talk with Chai here for a while, if you’d excuse us.” He was acting surprisingly calm for wanting to scream and run. Pracross smiled big and turned to Chai. “A moment of your time, please?" OOC: FUKFUKFUKFUKFUKFUK Up Next: Chai