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Post by Tomoka on Jan 11, 2018 4:07:19 GMT
His hand trembled, as it tended to do. He knew why he was here, he had repeated it in his head, reminding himself of why he was doing this. “You’re going to win. You’re going to strike down anyone who even thinks of opposing you. You’re going to do that, and than you’re going to get your wish. You’re going to ask for power, power that would otherwise take another year of training in the land of the dead to get, and once you have it, you’re going to use that power to rip open whatever thin line between the living and dead planes of existence is in between life and death.” He would mutter, taking in a deep breathe. He’d repeat it, and then he’d repeat it again. He’d repeat it over, and over, and over and over and over. This is why you are here. This is why you fight. This is everything. Tomoka, the boy who had defied all expectations. A low class runt, a nobody, meant to die or take a world billions of miles from the only place he could’ve ever called a home. He barely remember the name, Pascaal, but it’s people… he could never forget them them. They were blue, and in some places, had scales. Besides that, they looked like him, but they didn’t act like it. They found an infant sent in a ship from yemma knows where, possibly minutes from dying. They saved him, and than they gave him a home, a name, and… a family. He called them mother. He called them dad. They called him Preesha, and they called each other Baro and Metter. They dealt with him as they would their own child, conceived between their own seed and womb. They cared for him, fed him, clothed him, and even began educating him. They had done that, and they had made sure to prevent him from doing anything he’d regret. If only they knew… He’d done it out of his own control the first time. When he looked up at that moon, he couldn’t stop it. Even though they had come into the room, even though they had started screaming, because he wasn’t moving at first, and his eyes had glazed over. They screamed for another reason soon though. The entire world collectively screamed, as he reduced them to ash. That first time, he had done it because he couldn’t, stop it. But after that… enjoyment. Sick, twisted enjoyment was all he could derive from what he was doing. The boy hadn’t thought of the consequences, he hadn’t considered right and wrong. Instead, he just killed. He killed, he killed, and he killed. Every single one brought a smile to his lips. Whether he crushed them, strangled them, beat them to death or simply punched them, all of it brought a terrible, sadistic pleasure he couldn’t even describe. And then a single man’s dying question gave him reason to change. But by that point it didn’t matter. Farmland was ruined, the only meat available were the dead, and any building still standing probably wasn’t even a single story high. The remaining few thousand left alive would kill each other over food, water, or any resource that would keep them going till the end of the day. Suffice to say, the damage was irreversible. Than finally, he was brought “home.” Of course, it would be the only thing he could call a home after he destroyed his own. Vegeta was his first step out of the cradle, and straight into hell. He suffered. He bled. He was disrespected, and yet he persevered. Than one day he knew what he would do, and he began to execute the quickly thought up and poorly executed idea he called a plan. In his hubris… no, his idiocy, he thought if he simply avoided Namek’s major players, he’d be able to do whatever he wanted. But even the planet’s weakest put him to shame. And then, a man gave him a new purpose. Not just a man. No… he was more than just a man. So much more… He’d open his eyes again. He had been watching recordings of some of the previous matches. The ones involving a certain Saiyaness, Kaile, were intriguing. But that wasn’t to important at this point. What mattered was that he push forward to the end. None he had been watching were proving to be capable of doing that, all but the Saiyaness. “No surprise there…” he’d mutter, observing her previous combatant being defeated. Tracking the brackets, it seemed like she’d be fighting a man called the magician, possibly even an earthling, Collan, or ANOTHER Saiyan named Pracross. The brackets were pushing him forward. Jormungar, than… he wasn’t even sure if he should bother considering them a challenge. Defeating one of them would put him at the end. With that thought, he’d suddenly realize something. Standing, he’d begin walking, until he stopped near the timer for the round. It was only now that he noticed the date… His jaw would unhinge, slightly, shock taking him. It hadn’t even been a year. Less than a year from when he had crashed upon that green marble… and here he was. On the precipice of becoming a Super Saiyan, and about to get a wish from the eternal dragon. Who… who else, in the history of the universe had done something like that? Who had pushed to the goal every Saiyan Man, Woman and child aspired to, and collect a wish from Porunga, all in less than a year? He doubted even the legends of old claimed it could be done. Had Mammon done it? Had Ginge done it? Had the Queen of the Saiyans done it, and had the pretender he would KILL do it? None had, and as he stood there, a smile would begin to creep onto his lips, before he'd look down at his chest, the emblem of the Mazoku still upon him, than back up. Less than a year. “If only you could see me now… Baro…”
OOC: This will pass time. But in all seriousness, despite all of the setbacks and delays, I'm still surprised I made it this far in less than a year. Than again Jules went where no Rp'er has f@cking gone before, but whatever. Lord Xylo
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Post by Lord Xylo on Jan 12, 2018 13:42:08 GMT
Mazoku was a powerful name. It wasn't everyday a new war-loving empire rose from behind the dirty ears of a peaceful, pacifist race of beings. Namekians weren't known for violence, but with Xylo's campaign, they certainly stopped looking like pushovers. Of course, not every universe had such a road. In some, Namek was merely another blip on the galactic map for some other conqueror to enslave. In others, the planet no longer existed; destroyed months or even years ago by who or whatever cackled maliciously behind the iron fist.
In others still, Namek was known to be the seat of power.
Xylo didn't live in that universe. His Mazoku stopped before war was over. It was thanks to those willing to stop the wheels of conquest and vengeance (and perhaps his own self-awareness) that Xylo stopped before the galactic map was drenched in blood.
The Namekian sneered as his gaze stayed locked. Each universe had its own large area for its fighters to wait around in, with sub-sections to separate fighters from different factions. Xylo's little slice of land in the spectators balcony of Universe 15 was sizable, sure, but it was nothing compared to his counterpart.
There was only one other Xylo here, though he did not deserve to share the name. This other galaxy had fell into a different direction. Xylo hadn't been advised to stop. Xylo hadn't been shown the error of his ways. Xylo had forced his own brother to fuse with him.
Xylo had won.
Suffice it to say, Xylo was glad he didn't win.
This twisted mirror of Xylo was bitter and cold. When he had lost in the preliminary rounds for using Makaioken in the ring, he threw a tantrum. He killed his entourage, leaving him alone in the charred pit that was Universe 11's spectating balcony.
Frustrated, Xylo of Universe 15 decided to stop scowling at his worse half, and focus on the festivities. Though he'd been bitter and a bit peeved when he first got here, it was admittedly enjoyable to watch some of the fights go down. (Embarrassed as he was to admit it, he was enjoying Vi-Poi's matches the most.) As his eyes shifted, though, he caught someone out of the corner of his eye.
Sitting right there in a small corner of the balcony was a soldier of the Mazoku. He was no Namekian, nor the common mercenary race like a Kabochan. No, he was a Saiyan. As rare as it was, Xylo had employed his fair share of Saiyans. Some were prisoners of war who simply switched sides, while others were, in a sense, freelancers looking for a permanent job.
This one was particularly memorable, though. Tomoka was the first Saiyan enlisted into the army. Perhaps it was a strange thing to remember, but no non-Namekian was as fiercely loyal as this one tried to be. Hell, he apparently died for the cause, if the halo swirling above his head was any indication.
Xylo sat up from his seat, approaching the Saiyan quickly. Now merely a few feet away, the Mazoku Lord would simply shout:
"Hey! Tomoka! When the hell did you bite the dust?"
It was an awkward conversation starter, but it was better than nothing, he supposed.
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Post by Tomoka on Jan 13, 2018 18:29:54 GMT
He continued to look up, something else in his eyes besides hatred or ambition. But that was all interrupted when a shout hit him, and he fell back out of shock. “Gah! What in the…” he’d start, a bit angered by the question, but even more by what had happened as a result. But the moment he looked forward, his words melted away. Boots. Armor, familiar to him from memories he could never forget. He would freeze, slowly bringing his head up, looking at the face he knew he’d see. The green finned face of his master. He’d right himself almost immediately after that, kneeling as he always had before Lord Xylo. “My… my lord… I should’ve known you’d come here, forgive me for not searching.” he’d say, breathing heavily, before remembering the question that he was obligated to answer. “It was on Beppa… not directly though. I had begun rendezvousing with outposts that weren’t required to continue our campaign. The enemy had brought reinforcements, and I believed that, if our own forces were stretched as thin as they were, than they would simply pick us off, soldier by soldier, squadron by squadron, outpost by outpost, until finally we were all dead or dying. I decided I’d give the orders in person, and make sure that nothing happened along the way back.” He would continue to kneel, though it wouldn’t be as normal. Tomoka’s body had aged in hell. Biologically, if he returned now, he’d be a year older, but the body he crafted was easily several years ahead. A boy wasn’t bowing before Xylo… it was a young man. “The plan had been working, as well. The enemy never showed up, and we were able to evacuate without alerting them. Our central base of operations was fortified in the process. I decided we’d begin an offensive once more, so I went out to begin searching and destroying the enemy. But than…” he’d explain, finishing up with a quivered lip, before gulping it back down. “I found an outpost under attack, it’s team being annihilated… by a single woman only half my strength, wearing weights. At that point, I reacted quickly. I realized that simply blasting her in the back may end the problem quickly… but she would be useful. She put our men, and the average soldier in the enemy’s ranks to shame. Anyone with a power level above only 10K would be useful in the campaign…” he would mutter towards the end. “So, I played along. I pretended to be another soldier, sent out to do exactly what she was doing. So I helped her, not attacking anyone badly enough to actually kill them. It was working, at first. I figured that when she wasn’t looking, I’d shoot her in the back of the head and lock her up in restraints on my ship, and wait for your return. It was all going well… until an android arrived… with the strength of a super saiyan.” “He had looked through the database… and found that I was supposed to be KIA, last seen on Beppa. I tried to escape, but that woman had other plans. When I finally came to, I was in an airlock, on the androids ship, headed for Vegeta. I said something stupid, than she tried to space me…” he’d clench his teeth towards the end, now trembling at this point. “So I tore through the hull and made it to her. I launched us BOTH into the vacuum, intent on tearing her head from her shoulders, and only than, in my rage, would I actually try to survive. It all ended with me blacking out, after firing a blast in her direction. I never saw if it hit…” he said, before his knee buckled, collapsing on the stone floor beneath them. “Then, I died. I spent a month getting what I needed for a body, and than I trained in hell, getting stronger. I could feel that it was working, that with only another week, maybe two… I might be strong enough to return, kill her, and become a Super Saiyan… and than, we would destroy the empire! We would execute the monarchs, the administrators, and anyone who held my people down and had brought all of this unending destruction to the galaxy! We would WIN this war! You wouldn’t have to rely on just two men who were only slightly strong…” he would say, looking up at his lord and master. “But when I heard about this tournament, I saw an opportunity. I would use the wish I would be granted to gain power, power to surpass even a Super Saiyan! I would be able to master the form in a couple of days! Escape from hell would be a no brainer, and only than would I return to your side. But… fate has been kind, EXTREMELY kind.” He would proclaim, standing up. “Because it’s brought me before you, my lord. I’ve become stronger, much stronger! The quarter finals won’t even be a challenge, and I doubt the semifinals will be either! Better yet, my final opponent may be a relative of Queen Zuccetta! It would be the ultimate, symbolic victory against THEM! It’s going to be glorious…” he would say, a smile on his face. “What shall I do, milord? More importantly, what should I expect after returning from hell? How close are we to victory?! Please… tell me! Tell me!” he said, a look of absolute devotion and adoration, of loyalty and worship in his eyes. This was the man who he viewed as his messiah… and now he stood before him, earlier than he had ever thought he would, and he would return him to the battlefield.
OOC: nothing like a bit of hero worship from a misguided follower who still things you're a power hungry warlord to remind you of your own failings, amirite? Lord Xylo
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Post by Lord Xylo on Jan 22, 2018 7:39:04 GMT
"I see... That's a shame. I'm sorry I couldn't have been there to deal with it myself."
Xylo hoped beyond hope that Tomoka would simply end his explanation, and they could move on to some other topic. He knew what he would ask, but it would hurt to answer. Of course, he hadn't simply finished his explanation; he questioned about the war, prodding and poking at the topic to try and learn about the fate of the battle between Namekian and Saiyan. It was a bit painful to tell such a devout follower a harsh truth.
The Mazoku Lord frowned, and averted his gaze. He watched the arena below for a moment, before speaking plainly.
"The war is over, soldier. We neither won nor lost. I called a truce, to stop bloodshed on both sides. Once this tournament is over, the Namekian and Saiyan people will hold a peace conference, and we'll decide how to keep the galaxy from crumbling on itself."
His voice held no disappointment. Instead, it seemed optimistic. As warmongering and bloodthirsty as Xylo had once seemed, the prospect of an end to this war seemed to perk the Namekian up some. His only sorrow was for the inevitable disappointment he knew would come from Tomoka. It was just the way soldiers worked. They craved war; needed it to survive.
"You can do as you wish when you win, boy. If you think it suits you better, maybe that wish can be used to simply revive yourself and be done with all this fighting business."
With a slow, calm breath, he waited. For what, he wasn't sure. An outburst was likely, but there was hope that this Saiyan would be more understanding.
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Post by Tomoka on Jan 24, 2018 21:40:03 GMT
Looking at his lord, seeing his face darken, Tomoka immediately assumed the worst. Had they lost? Had the empire taken Namek? That couldn’t be right, Xylo was still alive. Was he enslaved, made to work or fight for the empire? No, he wouldn’t be wearing such expensive looking armor. But what he was told was far worse than anything he could’ve imagined. “...” No words came from his mouth. He simply stared, up into the eyes of his… his… Trembling, he stood, silent, still looking up. It would be faint for the average ear, but for Xylo, with his fin and pointed, astute, Namekian ears, the rumbling, and the high pitched drone were obvious. It grew louder, the pebbles drinks, and small objects all around the ring vibrating, before it would stop, all at once. The blank look in Tomoka’s eyes had changed as it did. Replaced with an emptiness, gaping and obvious. It was now that he spoke, however faint it was. “Look at me.” He would whisper, staring into Xylo’s eyes. “You… created me.” he would continue, placing his hand on his lord’s shoulder. “When I saw you in that cell… when you made that promise… everything in my being changed. My loyalty. My beliefs. From there, I existed for the promise of that statue, that glory… that war. That war that would end what I didn’t know had kept me down, what had caused all my suffering.” He’d say, the face of a man who had been thrust into the world from a far to young age, all on his own, looking at Xylo. “When you made that promise… I was reborn. I was a soldier. My newest goal, besides getting my wish, to make my life everlasting… was your war. No matter what I did, every action I took, every man or woman I murdered, every bone in my body that I allowed to break… all of it was for your war.” Suddenly, his entire body rippled. It all unraveled, in a split second. His body became light, all colors all at once, faint. His features were still clear, though, and he continued. “I am… a soldier. I am nothing but a soldier. This war… it was my life. Your war… my devotion to that, and to you… was my life. I gave up everything else, but for my wish, and for your war.” He would say, his voice distorted. Finally, he would return to normal. “My life… that I gave up for you… for your war… MY WAR… MY LIFE…” he would say, voice cracking as he did so, tears welling up in his eyes. “THAT is what’s ended. My life… everything I fought for is gone. What could have been the greatest year of my life… is gone.” He would say, the tears running down his cheeks, eyes widened as he would look up at his lord. “This… this is so much worse than what should’ve happened. Is THIS hell? Has all of it been an illusion? Is THIS the hell that I was doomed for?” He asked to no one, dropping to his knees, unable to keep his composure. Finally, he broke, everything shattered. His wrath, his greed. He was broken to pieces, only the memories of what he had done left to him. He let out a scream, sobbing as he lay on the ground beneath them, bringing his hands to his hair. “What… what have I done?! I’ve killed, maimed, murdered… all for this?! Why did this happen to me?!!” He sobbed, looking up at Xylo once again. “You… you promised… you said that I could be sent offworld, I could become one of your soldiers, or you would…” Suddenly, an idea flashed through his head, brought on by memories he had fabricated, memories he was trying to grasp for, in a broken, shattered mind. Taking Xylo’s hand, he would press it against his forehead. “You… would end my existence…” he would mutter, the tears slowly coming to a halt. Looking up, he would manage a smile. “My lord… can you? Can you end it? Please, just do it… I’m already dead, but I still exist. End that, please. I can’t go on… like this.” He would beg, looking up, before closing his eyes. He was ready. Lord Xylo *tissues.mp3 engaged*
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Post by Lord Xylo on Jan 25, 2018 13:06:35 GMT
For a moment, there was silence. Tomoka's monologue cut into Xylo harshly. A price to pay when your ideals shift so suddenly, he supposed. Was this what he was going to leave behind? Broken men and women who have no use? Soldiers didn't just start having normal lives, after all. Soldiers fought until they didn't exist.
Though... Maybe that could change, too.
As Tomoka pressed his head into Xylo's hand, his sorrow shifted to agitation. In an instant, he wrenched his hand away, and used it to backhand the de-stabilizing ghost that was once a proud warrior. His gaze did not meet the Saiyan a single time through all of this, but now, he turned to him. There was disappointment in the lord's eyes. Disappointment and anger.
"Look at yourself, you pitiful oaf. Don't you get it? You're free now. It's all done. You can take life wherever you choose. Just because your life revolved around war doesn't mean it needs to stay that way."
The Mazoku Lord turned away again, allowing his words to sink in.
"Do you know what I am, Tomoka? I was a child of war. My father birthed me for the sole purpose of conquering Namek-- no, conquering the galaxy. My entire life was dedicated to fulfilling my destiny." He chuckled, and shook his head. "For a long time, I was afraid. Afraid of failing my father, my people, and eventually the Empire I forged. But when it came to the final moment. The final choice was simpler than I thought."
With a dash of dramatic flare that wasn't entirely necessary, Xylo spun around on his heel, his eyes locked firmly onto the Saiyan he "created"
"I rejected destiny. I forged a path of my own and you know what? I quite like it. Maybe you should grow a spine and some free will and reject yours too."
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Post by Tomoka on Feb 8, 2018 22:51:53 GMT
The sudden pain, the sudden denial, the sudden shock, would pull Tomoka’s soul back together, and back into reality. He’d remain frozen, the side of his phase become a bright pink, and he’d look up in disbelief, barely believing what he was hearing. He… he had just begged Xylo to END him, and instead, he was INSULTING HIM?! His ki would momentarily flare to life, a hiss of rage building as he pulled himself up, before he would calm, though the look of anger still wasn’t gone. “You deny me? A simple request, to end the pain, the guilt, the suffering that I know will continue and grow, and you deny ME, a soldier who fought and died for a cause you gave up on?!” He would growl, any fear he had ever felt for the former tyrant vanishing as he stared back at him. “You… you don’t understand, do you? You think you’re special? Special because you were the only one on your planet who was going to be forced to fight to conquer the galaxy? HA!” He’d spit, his anger still apparent, even if he didn’t plan on acting on it. “Every Saiyan child, whether the most elite of the elite or lowest of the low is born for that EXACT purpose. Whether it be to lead armies or fight directly in them, or to run weapons factories while others build them, or to heal soldiers while others birth them- we are ALL BORN FOR THAT PURPOSE! You’re LUCKY to be the only one of your kind doomed to that path, and lucky all you’d be was afraid. You think Saiyan children could just be AFRAID if they failed? They CAN’T, because they’d be DEAD if they failed, dead if they couldn’t meet their leaders standards.” He would finish, eyes firmly locked on Xylo’s. “Forging my own destiny… in the end, that was what I was trying to do, it’s what you made me THINK I was doing. All that talk about honor, about songs and hymns being sung about me. Tomoka, the liberator! The first to fight back against the evil empire that had held him and his people down for so long, to save the galaxy!” He’d shout, throwing his arms out like it was some cheesy play, before anticlimactically dropping them to his sides. “Instead, I’m probably going to be a name on a wall of casualties, one of millions.” His rage would slowly subside, but his look wouldn’t falter. “Subconsciously, I joined you to avoid that. To be more than just a nobody. To be… something.” He would say, before finally looking away, closing his eyes. “If you value my freedom so very much… then let me tell you that my goal hasn’t changed. I’m going to be remembered… and I’m going to take revenge against them… all of them…” Lord XyloOOC: sorry it took so long to post! midterms are finally over, so I'm just about ready to do stuff other than finals again.
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Post by Lord Xylo on Feb 10, 2018 1:44:48 GMT
Xylo simply stared, silent and frowning as Tomoka's tirade escalated. It was fair for him to be so angry, he supposed. Fair, perhaps, if Xylo hadn't technically accomplished his goals. He did crush the Solar Empire, but he did so with words, like his brethren wished. Like his enemies wished, too. They weren't exactly enemies anymore, though. Allies in waiting was a better term.
Tomoka finished, stating his goals. Stubborn and pointless. It was what he expected from someone who followed his ideals, after all.
"Very well then."
Xylo turned, and walked away.
"Take some time to prepare yourself, Saiyan. You'll need to be able to beat me when you crawl from the pit."
Thread Exit with an ominous threat. That was a blast!
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Post by Tomoka on Feb 10, 2018 5:07:04 GMT
The response was short. Simple. Tomoka would scoff as Xylo would leave, clenching his fist. "Very well then to you to..." He'd bite back his tongue from continuing, about to say something he'd regret. Even if Xylo had betrayed him and all that he stood for, Tomoka still held SOME respect for him. The last line though, would momentarily cause Tomoka to pause. Defeat... Xylo? Was that even possible?
He'd suddenly laugh, continuing to quietly. Ofcourse it was. Xylo wasn't Yemma, and even HE had limits. He wasn't a kami either, or... a kai...
Xylo, however powerful he was, was mortal, just as Tomoka was. Mortal, and nothing would change that, especially not Tomoka's escape. What would change things, though, would be the strength he had when he came out. The strength he would win in this tournament. It wouldn't be enough to defeat Xylo, no, but if he could push further... if he could achieve legend...
No. Even than, it wouldn't be nearly enough. He would have strength, incredible strength, but Xylo was stronger. There was only one difference that might be able to close the gap.
"Which of us... which of us will keep getting stronger?" was the question that formed in his brain. "At which rate? Me faster? You? The same? We don't know, so we'll have to find out..." He'd think, before finally, his absent minded laughter stopped. "Very well my lord, I accept your challenge. When I pry myself from hell, when I tear Ginge limb from limb, when I achieve the birthright of my ancestors, and when I push further than any Saiyan who has ever lived... than the galaxy will finally fall to my will, the will of the Saiyan race, of all true warriors, and that will demands DEATH!" He would whisper, nails digging into his palm yet again. Healing quickly, he would turn heal, walking in the opposite direction. "But first... this tournament will have to end with me as it's victor..."
Lord XyloExiting thread! Dunno how this'll be graded, if at all, but hey, I dunno.
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