Post by Ora on Jan 5, 2015 23:39:30 GMT
"How could I let this happen..?"
The darkness of space was something most Saiyajin were used to. Being as they traveled to and fro through the galaxies among the universe. It was just..this time. This time, a Saiyajin was traveling through the black of Space against his will and he was more than resistant enough to break away from the shackled around his waist, wrist and ankles. It was just the situation he was in, that kept him from executing a perfect escape from the prison he remain in. Orache. The bastard son of Orion. Captured by an Arcosian ally.
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Events Before
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"*Smack* *Chew, Chew*"
The sound of eating was loud. The rude smacking of lips and the sound of food being smashed and squished between canines and incisors bein one of the few sounds to really arise. Perhaps the one other sound being that of meat being torn from the bone. This was something considered to be a delicacy to the Saiyajin. His open mouthed chewing being a well sign of how little he was really into stupid manners or even wanting to be considerate of the Saiyajin around him- Not that they minded his sounds at all.
In fact, they joined him.
A woman and another male sitting beside him. His primitive garb something donned by the Warriors whom exiled themselves onto the outskirts of Vegeseijin. It was an entire, pack, yes: The teenage Orache, a woman named Karn and a tall, tall male named Motamo. The older male, Kali and his wife Bracoli. Karn doing the same as Orache; Tearing the meat from her prey's carcass and munching on it noisily. A true Saiyajin woman. The feeling of heritage being wholesome, more so than it did upon the garbage soil of Earth. It was only obvious that the conflict between Arcose and Vegesei would be resolved by the mighty fist of the race.
He was living proof of the race's greatness.
Motamo sat beside the younger Saiyajin, sitting upon the log they used as a seat and leaned toward the flames that crackle and burst. He was but eight feet tall, built like a tank. He looked to Karn and then to the eating Orache.
"Enjoying the feast, eh?"
"*Chew, chew* Gulp..I'd be lying if I said no!"
"Good. It is fuel for the fight."
The younger, smaller Saiyan nodded. He knew what he meant by such words. Kali, Bracoli and Motamo had been expecting someone to be coming toward their little settlement. As Orache swallow the last of his food, he stood up, still reaching but only Motamo's stomach. He looked up and nodded, leaving he and Karn be to join Kali and his loved one. The younger Saiyajin bowing before his elders before sitting cross legged and beginning to converse.
"Kali-Sama, Bracoli-Sama. What is this..foe, you are all expecting? Karn and I have heard of your chatter and have grown curious. Am I in correct jurisdiction to ask?"
"..Mm..Indeed, you are. We expect a rogue Arcose ship. Likely to come to the settlement before the main city. We plan on allowing Motamo as bait to capture and defeat the mercenary. You and the girl are far too weak to help."
"Mm.."
"But, Kali. I know I can assist somehow! Please, so long I don my tail and..!"
That was all that could be truly uttered. The pure flash of white filling the scene as the booming of explosion sounded off behind the three Saiyajin and the secondary sound of the more fit Motamo screeching his battle cry and techniques. After that..nothing. Orache blanking out in the middle of the battle.
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Present
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Orache awoke suddenly, a throbbing lash of pain splitting across his skull. Wincing, he opened his eyes to the harsh light that surrounded him and realized that he was on on the mercenariesship. Picking himself up to a sitting position with his left arm propping him up, he gazed around him. He was in the main arena, but it was different than he would have thought from his his imagination. It seemed…futuristic? If that was even possible. There were only a handful of people around, vastly different than when the Vegesei…rather Saiyans were there after the destruction of his settlement.
Then a familiar, yet strangely different face approached him with a dark scowl deepset into his features. "Awake at last? We need to-"
The voice, it was so familiar. The same voice that seemed to be in a perpetual state of agitation, yet much less grizzled than the last time he heard it. Orache looked into the face of the face, his tail twitching in curiosity. "Motamo? Is that you?"
Another flash- This time, a different voice.
"Just like rats, to hide in a hole."
Lifting his hand, He fired a weak blast of energy at the Saiyajin. It exploded in a shower of debris, bits of concrete and broken glass falling around him from the back draft as well as a nice bit of heat from the flames. His deep voice boomed across the arena's circular surrounding, filling the air with his bored voice. "Rats, come to meet your doom. That blast was merely the cheese, to lure you weaklings out of hiding."
At once, five auras burst free of the mess and rocketed towards the bored Saiyan. They were slow and inexperienced, as they flew towards him without even a strategy. Brigand stood his ground as each of the blows connected with his body, thunder claps issuing from every hit. But Orache did not move or even bat an eyelash at them, aside from getting up and avoiding His beam, simply smiling. "Come now, you surely have more than that. No? Fine." He jumped back and removed the pair of golden gauntlets at his hip, souvenirs of his time fighting countless the Saiyajin hordes…as each gauntlet was painfully and ruthlessly ripped from their still living bodies. In a flurry of punches and slashes that only a truly powerful warrior could follow, Orache tore through the five and dusted his gauntlets.
Each of the warriors collapsed to the ground, showers of their crimson life essence filling the dry air and pooling around their corpses. Orache shook his head, they were so weak that he probably shouldn't have killed them…but not like it mattered, they were in the way. He stood there, face impassive at stone as his voice rose out once more. "Mercenary, I know you're there. Probably laughing at the slaughter of these fools, like I would be in your position. But that isn't the point, I've been picked to deal with you and you're the only one that I can't sense at this point."
The Saiyajin's voice booming as loud as it could, while not apparent, he felt a slight bit of fear.
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In the smoking remains of the now destroyed underlings, a man sat quietly upon his throne. The two alone had been the only things undamaged from his weak assault, not even dust covering the man and his chair. He was smiling, a wine glass in his right hand while the other simply rested on the chair. Draining the last of the glass, he tossed it aside and strode out of the wreckage. He walked with a regal grace and demeanor that he recognized a friend of his moved with, but his name eluded him.
Even his attire screamed royalty, his armor was polished to perfection. The red and black drew striking contrast to the man's naturally dark hair and beard. A crimson cape was draped behind him, attached to the massive winged shoulder plates of the armor. He was definitely one of the most important looking people Orache had ever lain eyes on. But that was a trifle matter, looks meant nothing.
Orache, in comparison, was wearing a standard black jump suit that covered all of the skin from his neck down to his waist. On his fists were mighty gauntlets, gold and black with precious stones inlaid. They were the last treasure of his battle against a horde of Saiyajin, that much remembered. His pants were made of the same material as his torso clothing, however much more loose fitting around the legs with a crimson scarf from a dead lover tied about the waist. And lastly, his feet were clad in simple stretching boots that were a commonplace in Saiyan armor.
"Ah, so I'm finally sought out. But alas, it isn't for a new henchman is it? No, you're a brash and pathetic display of Saiyan blood. Only a step up above those maggots whom you destroyed, but no matter…I'll find replacements." The Mercenary's voice was deep, much like his own and Orache only now noticed that the man was big, easily taller than he was by almost a foot. And Orache thought Motamo was a giant amongst Saiyans..
"I must applaud you for your display, it isn't often I see one of our race resorting to weapons as crude as those. Perhaps it is because you lack the skill necessary with your fist? But alas, I regress. My name is Raditto, true King of Saiyans." His tone was eloquent, yet forceful and it depicted a man of great strength and intelligence.
"May I know the name of the Saiyan who wishes to…what was it you said, deal with me?" The sarcasm saturated the last part, arrogance and pride radiating from the man. But it was also dark and full of challenge, a threat that Orache would not back down from.
Orache looked the man in the eyes, his tail twitching back and forth. "My name is Orache, Saiyan of the Planet Vegeseijin, clearly."
Removing the crimson band he wore around his waist, Orache tossed it aside onto the pile of corpses behind him. "I will not need these, I foresee an interesting fight between you an I. Let us begin, King Raditto."
Orache dashed forward, attempting to slam his left fist into the jaw of Raditto. But the man was fast, lithely dodging the blow and countering with one of his own, a solid knee to the midsection. It hurt, but not enough to really affect the warrior. Whirling around, Orache threw a punch directly past Raditto's head. But this was a feint, as his foe did not seem to realize. The smirk on the King's face quickly disappeared as Orache's hand grabbed the back of his head and force it down towards the traveler's quickly rising knee.
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Raditto's hands shot out, in an attempt to stop the knee but only succeeding in slowing it as Brigand's power pushed through and his kneecap collided with the King's forehead. He felt himself reel back in shock and pain, as well as a powerful grip latched onto his wrist and forearm. A sense of temporary weightlessness engulfed him before he felt the full effects of the ships's gravity pushing against him as he rocketed away and into a solid wall. His body sank into the steel, as easily as a hot knife sinks through butter, but the pain was intense. The man hit hard, harder than he'd have expected.
Pulling himself from the dented metal, he muttered a string of curses before looking before his now smiling foe. "What are you so smug about, you worthless pile of trash? Just because you managed to draw a bit of blood from me? Ha, this planet's mosquito's do the same when given the chance." The metal and steel around his body crumbled beneath his heavy footfalls, each step power radiating from his body. "I was holding back to test you, it seems that you're worth a bit more effort that I originally thought."
Charging forward and closing the gap, Raditto's body moved in a flurry of blows that caused the ground beneath Orache to crumble and give way. But Raditto noticed something strange, instead of dodging every shot, his foe merely took each blow with a smile. Was the man crazy or did he have some ulterior motive for taking such shots?
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Orache's body took each blow, swaying with each shot as they collided with him. They hurt, but not nearly enough to give him cause to worry. He'd been hit harder by an ancient and grizzled Motamo during his training, these were mere child's play in comparison. Finally a mighty boot collided with his chest, launching him backwards as his own feet ripped fissures into the earth to slow himself. Twenty feet away, Orache merely smiled and popped his neck.
"Here I thought I might have some cause to worry, especially what with the words I heard about you. There was cause for worry about your strength, but I see they are nothing compared to my durability." But the truth was much different. ~I'd dodge his shots if I could, but he's moving too quickly for me to properly dodge. It's best to just take them and throw him off guard.~
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Raditto had been focusing on the fight, rather than using his limited telepathy to hear the thoughts of his foe. But he did catch the last part about throwing him off guard, and that caused the great Saiyan King to smile. "So you want to throw me off guard, do you? I'll welcome that challenge, none has been able to do that since my youth." Raditto was far from angry at this point, more amused that there was a Saiyan so close to his level in strength. This would make for a great training opportunity, a stepping stone towards his ultimate goal.
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Orache then felt something raging inside him, the primordial anger that he'd been born with. He was different from most Saiyans, born with a gift so great and far between that it was the stuff of legends. His ki skyrocketed, doubling in amount and causing great chunks of the ground to raise around his body. After a moment, he regained control and his chest was heaving. "Alright, mighty Emperor," he mocked, sarcasm dripping like venom from the fangs of a great viper, "Round two."
Orache flew in close and assaulted his foe with various punches and kicks, his body moving faster than it had been previously. Raditto dodged and weaved every attack that Orache threw, except for the final shot which was a feint.
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When his right leg came in for a sweep, Raditto lifted his left leg and pulled his head in the same direction…right into the path of Orache's mighty left hook. It hurt more than the previous punch, he could feel that his jaw was now dislocated and it angered the great King. His body smashed against the ground, rolling and bouncing like a rag doll thrown from a moving vehicle. He laid on the ground for a moment, putting his jaw back into place before standing and dusting himself off.
"Well…now you've angered me, you pathetic excuse for a Saiyan." He felt the strange increase of his foe's power, it wasn't something he'd ever felt before. Just what was he? But there was no time for his musings, he was going to have to step up his game and try different things. Going to blows at this point could end up being fatal.
Raditto clenched his fist and raised his power to match that of his foe, his body felt lighter and more powerful than before. The warrior he fought was slow, but hit like a truck. His best option was to use his speed and intelligence to his advantage. Dashing straight up this time, rather than forward, Raditto crossed his arms in front of his chest. He gathered ki, forming it in his mouth and throat as the power began to show in his aura.
"BE READY FOR HELL, FOR THE EMPEROR DEMANDS RETRIBUTION! CHOU MAKOUHOU!" The energy began to shine through his open mouth, forming what seemed to be a ball before it was released. The torrent of energy, lead by the orb that was formed, took the shape of a massive beam.
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Orache watched as the energy raced towards him, his fist curled to his side. Dark purple energy swirled around it and he merely smirked at his foe. The crimson wave coming towards him was nothing compared to his own, as his attack had a certain special property to it that made it fairly unique. Firing his fist forward, the small beam of purple energy encased around his entire figure to meet the crimson blast. As they collided, Orache's smirked widened as it seemed to be engulfed by the attack. ~Pierced right through, that arrogant fool won't know what hit him.~
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Raditto had been more focused on his foe this time, hearing the thoughts. His mind rewundrd at the thought for only a moment. ~Piercing? How did he managed to figure that out?~ He stopped his energy flow and dodged right, at the very moment the purple energy broke through. He dodged the brunt of the attack, but his shoulder felt the searing pain and following numbness of his nerve endings being burnt to a crisp. Removing his cape and tossing it aside, Raditto's rage was building with every passing moment.
But surprisingly, the King merely laughed at his foe. "Did you really think that would stop me? You must be even a bigger fool than I first thought."
Dashing down, he threw a barrage of punches at his slower opponent. Two out of every three connected with the man, shots to the face and body were beginning to make their effects know. Blood from torn skin began to appear across the body of Orache, his torso clothing turning to shreds. With a colossal kick, Orache's body rose into the air and the King pounded away into his midsection.
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Orache's body felt like lead in the presence of Raditto, every time he increased his own speed to dodge, it seemed like his foe put himself one step ahead of him. It was mind boggling, this man was definitely worth more mention than what legend made him seem. It was nearly time for him to stop playing around, however, his body was really beginning to feel pain now.
Trying to right himself, he battled back but each of his blows were deflected rather than blocked. It seemed that the King had figured out his area of expertise in melee combat. Throwing a wild kick, Orache's eyes widened as Raditto simply disappeared from his view. But he didn't have time to search as a punishing blow rained down upon his head, sending him spiraling into the steel below. The ground gave way upon impact, showering the area in a massive cloud of flame and a rain of fist sized scrapped metal.
The young man staggered up, his breaths heavy and exasperated. Despite his Ki being increased two fold, his enemy had done the same to match up. His speed something quite incredible. It seemed Raditto had truly claimed the false title of Saiyan King. He wasn't to survive this battle- Orache was to escape this dreaded clunk of metal, even if it took him hours upon hours. As he recover from the clash with the ground, he forgot to have looked up, as Raditto had crashed down upon the seasoned Saiyajin. Receiving a double handed axe punch directly against his cranium, sending him face first into the steel floor once more. He could hear, though; Emperor Raditto stepping forward and crushing Orache's head beneath his boot.
"Well, fool. Play time is over: Good. Bye!" Raditto opened his maw upon finishing his sentence, his jaw dropping and the single ball of concentrated ki resonating once more. His eyes widening as he prepare another Chou Makouhou at the point blank range. The Saiyajin beneath his boot at the brink of exhaustion. He had to pull, though. His fight for freedom being the most important thing he could do. As the beam escaped the Emperor's mouth, Orache had seemed to move as quick as he could. Darting from the ground to the Saiyan King Raditto's hind area before using his own technique.
The roar of the Oozaru crying out as he unleash the technique known as the Oozaru Combination. His fists smashing against the wicked emperor's spinal cord and crashing against the back of his skull. His every grunt accompanying each landed blow, his speed something fierce. "You, are already dead." Orache sighed as he unleash the final strike against the wicked King's neck. Striking each and every important nerve to end the Saiyajin's life. Raditto had crashed down against the floor, landing on his knees with a surprised and solid expression, taking a moment to throw up the essence of life into himself before falling face first.
Quickly, Orache had made a mad dash for the King's mainframe. The Vegeseijin tapping a number of keys and buttons with extreme haste. First going for an Attack Pod to escape. He could already see from the window the cold, cold life that was Arcose closing in. His fingers tapping along the buttons quickly. Without worry, the Attack Pod was given to him without too much clearance, the pod door opening where it would blast off. A second after, he clicked for the ships selfdestruct. He may have had killed the "King" but, he had to continue with the destruction for once and all.
"And..there. Sweet dreams, King Raditto." Orache smirked, waving to the King before jumping into the attack pod without hesitation. Closing the door with a serious haste and using his knowledge over Saiyajin technology to input the coordinates for Earth once more. A smirk on his slender face as he burst out into the depths of space once more. The reflection of utter catastrophic events occurring behind him, the luxurious ship of Raditto exploding in a firework of beauty.
He had escaped.
The travel ball had zoomed through the depths of space, escaping the cold aura of Arcose. One day. One day the forsaken planet of spoiled midgets would suffer the wrath of the Saiyajin empire. Just they await. Until then however, they could frolic all they wish. The Saiyajin would believe this with the utmost respect. The shadow of the Arcosian planet becoming less zoomed and close as he rocket through the black of the galaxy. With each drawing second, he'd get close to Earth- A land of refuge. At least there he could regenerate his health and forge alliance with certain residents.
Orache felt himself become rather drowsy. His head plopping against the crimson cushion behind him and his arms crossing over one another. The sweet embrace of sleep coming over him and making time seem to fly by. All the while, the white of the Attack Ball bursted through the intergalactic barriers between Arcose's coordinates and into another planets territory. Orache sitting tight and simply snoozing the way he did. His breaths slow and steady, in comparison to how heavy and pained they were during his clash against King Raditto. The cursed false King. He hoped he died in the destruction of the luxury ship.
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More than an hour later..
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The Attack Ball had crashed along unfamiliar grounds. The Saiyajin within awakened during impacted and opening the hatch that held him. Climbing out and stretching each of his limbs, Orache eyed the land. It was truly strange. It was reminiscent of Earth and Vegesei but not exact. Not only this but it was desolate. Weird. Terror must have struck- That, or it was conquered and forgotten about. Regardless, it was to be his place of refuge until he was at his maximum and could travel again.
Unbeknownst to Orache, he was on an uncharted planet. It's name being Sylor.
Orache huffed heavily, climbing out fully before bursting into the skies and zooming along the planet in search of nutrient and the like. This oughtta be easy..
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Nearly half a year later..
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It was well overdue. Orache was at his maximum. He simply had been living on the desolate planet for refuge from the Arcosians whom captured him the previous year. It was time for him to set course for earth. The Saiyajin climbing into the dusted Attack Pod and closing the hatch after sitting down, punching in the chart for the planet of legends. The orb picking up from the soil of Sylor and booming out into the outter galaxy once more. Making way for Earth!
The ball rocketed out into the outter reaches of space. He was back on track to the planet of Earth. While he did want to get to somewhere notably safe and populated a thought had cross his mind as he engage in the travel; Once he entered the atmosphere, he'd have to become one with earthly civilization again. He had grown rather used to living the life a seasoned Saiyajin warrior. The lifestyle his father(s) would have wanted him to have, over the one on Earth
And he didn't even want to do so, either. However, if he wanted to stay anonymous to the intergalactic races he would need to become like the Humans and the such on Earth. The pure white and crimson orb had darted through the stars, the thinking Saiyajin resting his head against the red seat and cushion behind him, eyes slowly beginning to drop and shutter closed as he grew increasingly bored.
He thought of where he'd stay, when he would get there and what would happen as an entirety. The one answer his brain could truly churn out was: Somewhere in the North, somewhere in a year or so and that he would be able to live out his days like any other lowly human that reside on that accursed planet. However it was required of himself to go. The needless thinking driving the Saiyajin to falling asleep in the pod. His breathing become even more slow and twice as calm than it was when he had initially jumped into the pod. His arms crossed and the golden gauntlets around his forearms and wrists grinding against one another with the the utmost ease. Even his sleeping face was calm. His eyes shut up and his mouth a little bit open, nose wriggling somewhat. A little bubble escaping his nostril.
The Attack Pod's coordinates had been locked when he set course. And they had to be accurate, as he input the landing space for Jingle Village. "X13, Y91". The thing set to pilot itself while its inhabitant rest himself for his life on the soil of planet earth. While he himself was indifferent to it, much unlike his estranged father, he had to admit there wa some qualities of living among humans. Their foods, goods and women. Certain luxuries that even Vegesei didn't have. While, yes, some women talked back they were easily swooned by the Saiyajin's way of speech and the way he worked his tail. However, such ways of speaking really weren't important. What was, was his safe travel into the Earths district. Otherwise, all else had to be back burner and that's final.
As Orache fell prisoner to sleeps sweet embrace once more, his dream state was quite something. Within the depths of his very mind, he imagined his adopted Father beside a vague image of his true Father. Orion, the Saiyajin who worked with an Arcosian. And the other, Pumpukin. He who raised Orache to be a fierce warrior the way his bastard father didn't. Both men rooting for their child the way Saiyajin did- Through abrasive love. Mocking him and telling him he couldn't amount to anything unless he pushed his limits. Issuing threats of pure shame and dishonor. These harsh truths making him increasingly angered. Orache's dream time version of himself shouting at the more powerful forefathers and attempting to strike them, his figure being pushed forward through concentrated Ki. His strike held short as an elbow from both men smashed into his spine. While it was a dream, it still made him shutter in the real world..
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A Year Later
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The Attack Pod was closing in. Orache gazing at the tiny orb of blue and green, small stripes of white glazing over it. The growing Saiyan laying back in the chair and his arms still crossed. He had made several stops along the trip from Sylor to make sure his body hadn't become useless after remaining in a sphere for an entire year. He was smart enough bot to allow himself become an utter vegetable the way the obese monsters of several planets he had come across. Needless to say, they had become his supper for obvious reasons. His belly had become somewhat swollen and his cheeks filled to the level of bulging during several trips but burned off immediately whenever he found a well gravitated planet. Something about the entire process made Orache chuckle to himself during the way to Earth.
Yes. The earth had become full, the Attack Pod bursting into the earths atmosphere quickly. Flames encasing the white sphere as it crash down into the world of the Humans and the inhabitants that guard it. Orache glaring down at the closing in ground, his arms still crossed as he show little to jo fear for the way he simply bursted down. He could see the white of snow that lay over most of the northern continent like a sheet of white that overlay a mans bed. The ground lying hushed by the graceful sheet of ice. In a matter of seconds, the pod crashed. The collective force behind it pushing up snow as it roll into the area of Yunzabit Highlands. Stopping at full as soon as the orb made contact with the Highlands beginning. Where one would ascend up into the arena for the most hardened of fighters.
Orache punching the closed hatchet of a door. The snow that encase the door freezing it over before his fist could bust it into bits. He was free of the spheres embrace once again. Jumping out of the pod, he somersault beside the piece of technology. Tapping it gently before spitting onto the pure white that crush beneath his boot. He was officially on Earth..
The darkness of space was something most Saiyajin were used to. Being as they traveled to and fro through the galaxies among the universe. It was just..this time. This time, a Saiyajin was traveling through the black of Space against his will and he was more than resistant enough to break away from the shackled around his waist, wrist and ankles. It was just the situation he was in, that kept him from executing a perfect escape from the prison he remain in. Orache. The bastard son of Orion. Captured by an Arcosian ally.
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Events Before
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"*Smack* *Chew, Chew*"
The sound of eating was loud. The rude smacking of lips and the sound of food being smashed and squished between canines and incisors bein one of the few sounds to really arise. Perhaps the one other sound being that of meat being torn from the bone. This was something considered to be a delicacy to the Saiyajin. His open mouthed chewing being a well sign of how little he was really into stupid manners or even wanting to be considerate of the Saiyajin around him- Not that they minded his sounds at all.
In fact, they joined him.
A woman and another male sitting beside him. His primitive garb something donned by the Warriors whom exiled themselves onto the outskirts of Vegeseijin. It was an entire, pack, yes: The teenage Orache, a woman named Karn and a tall, tall male named Motamo. The older male, Kali and his wife Bracoli. Karn doing the same as Orache; Tearing the meat from her prey's carcass and munching on it noisily. A true Saiyajin woman. The feeling of heritage being wholesome, more so than it did upon the garbage soil of Earth. It was only obvious that the conflict between Arcose and Vegesei would be resolved by the mighty fist of the race.
He was living proof of the race's greatness.
Motamo sat beside the younger Saiyajin, sitting upon the log they used as a seat and leaned toward the flames that crackle and burst. He was but eight feet tall, built like a tank. He looked to Karn and then to the eating Orache.
"Enjoying the feast, eh?"
"*Chew, chew* Gulp..I'd be lying if I said no!"
"Good. It is fuel for the fight."
The younger, smaller Saiyan nodded. He knew what he meant by such words. Kali, Bracoli and Motamo had been expecting someone to be coming toward their little settlement. As Orache swallow the last of his food, he stood up, still reaching but only Motamo's stomach. He looked up and nodded, leaving he and Karn be to join Kali and his loved one. The younger Saiyajin bowing before his elders before sitting cross legged and beginning to converse.
"Kali-Sama, Bracoli-Sama. What is this..foe, you are all expecting? Karn and I have heard of your chatter and have grown curious. Am I in correct jurisdiction to ask?"
"..Mm..Indeed, you are. We expect a rogue Arcose ship. Likely to come to the settlement before the main city. We plan on allowing Motamo as bait to capture and defeat the mercenary. You and the girl are far too weak to help."
"Mm.."
"But, Kali. I know I can assist somehow! Please, so long I don my tail and..!"
That was all that could be truly uttered. The pure flash of white filling the scene as the booming of explosion sounded off behind the three Saiyajin and the secondary sound of the more fit Motamo screeching his battle cry and techniques. After that..nothing. Orache blanking out in the middle of the battle.
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Present
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Orache awoke suddenly, a throbbing lash of pain splitting across his skull. Wincing, he opened his eyes to the harsh light that surrounded him and realized that he was on on the mercenariesship. Picking himself up to a sitting position with his left arm propping him up, he gazed around him. He was in the main arena, but it was different than he would have thought from his his imagination. It seemed…futuristic? If that was even possible. There were only a handful of people around, vastly different than when the Vegesei…rather Saiyans were there after the destruction of his settlement.
Then a familiar, yet strangely different face approached him with a dark scowl deepset into his features. "Awake at last? We need to-"
The voice, it was so familiar. The same voice that seemed to be in a perpetual state of agitation, yet much less grizzled than the last time he heard it. Orache looked into the face of the face, his tail twitching in curiosity. "Motamo? Is that you?"
Another flash- This time, a different voice.
"Just like rats, to hide in a hole."
Lifting his hand, He fired a weak blast of energy at the Saiyajin. It exploded in a shower of debris, bits of concrete and broken glass falling around him from the back draft as well as a nice bit of heat from the flames. His deep voice boomed across the arena's circular surrounding, filling the air with his bored voice. "Rats, come to meet your doom. That blast was merely the cheese, to lure you weaklings out of hiding."
At once, five auras burst free of the mess and rocketed towards the bored Saiyan. They were slow and inexperienced, as they flew towards him without even a strategy. Brigand stood his ground as each of the blows connected with his body, thunder claps issuing from every hit. But Orache did not move or even bat an eyelash at them, aside from getting up and avoiding His beam, simply smiling. "Come now, you surely have more than that. No? Fine." He jumped back and removed the pair of golden gauntlets at his hip, souvenirs of his time fighting countless the Saiyajin hordes…as each gauntlet was painfully and ruthlessly ripped from their still living bodies. In a flurry of punches and slashes that only a truly powerful warrior could follow, Orache tore through the five and dusted his gauntlets.
Each of the warriors collapsed to the ground, showers of their crimson life essence filling the dry air and pooling around their corpses. Orache shook his head, they were so weak that he probably shouldn't have killed them…but not like it mattered, they were in the way. He stood there, face impassive at stone as his voice rose out once more. "Mercenary, I know you're there. Probably laughing at the slaughter of these fools, like I would be in your position. But that isn't the point, I've been picked to deal with you and you're the only one that I can't sense at this point."
The Saiyajin's voice booming as loud as it could, while not apparent, he felt a slight bit of fear.
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In the smoking remains of the now destroyed underlings, a man sat quietly upon his throne. The two alone had been the only things undamaged from his weak assault, not even dust covering the man and his chair. He was smiling, a wine glass in his right hand while the other simply rested on the chair. Draining the last of the glass, he tossed it aside and strode out of the wreckage. He walked with a regal grace and demeanor that he recognized a friend of his moved with, but his name eluded him.
Even his attire screamed royalty, his armor was polished to perfection. The red and black drew striking contrast to the man's naturally dark hair and beard. A crimson cape was draped behind him, attached to the massive winged shoulder plates of the armor. He was definitely one of the most important looking people Orache had ever lain eyes on. But that was a trifle matter, looks meant nothing.
Orache, in comparison, was wearing a standard black jump suit that covered all of the skin from his neck down to his waist. On his fists were mighty gauntlets, gold and black with precious stones inlaid. They were the last treasure of his battle against a horde of Saiyajin, that much remembered. His pants were made of the same material as his torso clothing, however much more loose fitting around the legs with a crimson scarf from a dead lover tied about the waist. And lastly, his feet were clad in simple stretching boots that were a commonplace in Saiyan armor.
"Ah, so I'm finally sought out. But alas, it isn't for a new henchman is it? No, you're a brash and pathetic display of Saiyan blood. Only a step up above those maggots whom you destroyed, but no matter…I'll find replacements." The Mercenary's voice was deep, much like his own and Orache only now noticed that the man was big, easily taller than he was by almost a foot. And Orache thought Motamo was a giant amongst Saiyans..
"I must applaud you for your display, it isn't often I see one of our race resorting to weapons as crude as those. Perhaps it is because you lack the skill necessary with your fist? But alas, I regress. My name is Raditto, true King of Saiyans." His tone was eloquent, yet forceful and it depicted a man of great strength and intelligence.
"May I know the name of the Saiyan who wishes to…what was it you said, deal with me?" The sarcasm saturated the last part, arrogance and pride radiating from the man. But it was also dark and full of challenge, a threat that Orache would not back down from.
Orache looked the man in the eyes, his tail twitching back and forth. "My name is Orache, Saiyan of the Planet Vegeseijin, clearly."
Removing the crimson band he wore around his waist, Orache tossed it aside onto the pile of corpses behind him. "I will not need these, I foresee an interesting fight between you an I. Let us begin, King Raditto."
Orache dashed forward, attempting to slam his left fist into the jaw of Raditto. But the man was fast, lithely dodging the blow and countering with one of his own, a solid knee to the midsection. It hurt, but not enough to really affect the warrior. Whirling around, Orache threw a punch directly past Raditto's head. But this was a feint, as his foe did not seem to realize. The smirk on the King's face quickly disappeared as Orache's hand grabbed the back of his head and force it down towards the traveler's quickly rising knee.
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Raditto's hands shot out, in an attempt to stop the knee but only succeeding in slowing it as Brigand's power pushed through and his kneecap collided with the King's forehead. He felt himself reel back in shock and pain, as well as a powerful grip latched onto his wrist and forearm. A sense of temporary weightlessness engulfed him before he felt the full effects of the ships's gravity pushing against him as he rocketed away and into a solid wall. His body sank into the steel, as easily as a hot knife sinks through butter, but the pain was intense. The man hit hard, harder than he'd have expected.
Pulling himself from the dented metal, he muttered a string of curses before looking before his now smiling foe. "What are you so smug about, you worthless pile of trash? Just because you managed to draw a bit of blood from me? Ha, this planet's mosquito's do the same when given the chance." The metal and steel around his body crumbled beneath his heavy footfalls, each step power radiating from his body. "I was holding back to test you, it seems that you're worth a bit more effort that I originally thought."
Charging forward and closing the gap, Raditto's body moved in a flurry of blows that caused the ground beneath Orache to crumble and give way. But Raditto noticed something strange, instead of dodging every shot, his foe merely took each blow with a smile. Was the man crazy or did he have some ulterior motive for taking such shots?
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Orache's body took each blow, swaying with each shot as they collided with him. They hurt, but not nearly enough to give him cause to worry. He'd been hit harder by an ancient and grizzled Motamo during his training, these were mere child's play in comparison. Finally a mighty boot collided with his chest, launching him backwards as his own feet ripped fissures into the earth to slow himself. Twenty feet away, Orache merely smiled and popped his neck.
"Here I thought I might have some cause to worry, especially what with the words I heard about you. There was cause for worry about your strength, but I see they are nothing compared to my durability." But the truth was much different. ~I'd dodge his shots if I could, but he's moving too quickly for me to properly dodge. It's best to just take them and throw him off guard.~
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Raditto had been focusing on the fight, rather than using his limited telepathy to hear the thoughts of his foe. But he did catch the last part about throwing him off guard, and that caused the great Saiyan King to smile. "So you want to throw me off guard, do you? I'll welcome that challenge, none has been able to do that since my youth." Raditto was far from angry at this point, more amused that there was a Saiyan so close to his level in strength. This would make for a great training opportunity, a stepping stone towards his ultimate goal.
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Orache then felt something raging inside him, the primordial anger that he'd been born with. He was different from most Saiyans, born with a gift so great and far between that it was the stuff of legends. His ki skyrocketed, doubling in amount and causing great chunks of the ground to raise around his body. After a moment, he regained control and his chest was heaving. "Alright, mighty Emperor," he mocked, sarcasm dripping like venom from the fangs of a great viper, "Round two."
Orache flew in close and assaulted his foe with various punches and kicks, his body moving faster than it had been previously. Raditto dodged and weaved every attack that Orache threw, except for the final shot which was a feint.
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When his right leg came in for a sweep, Raditto lifted his left leg and pulled his head in the same direction…right into the path of Orache's mighty left hook. It hurt more than the previous punch, he could feel that his jaw was now dislocated and it angered the great King. His body smashed against the ground, rolling and bouncing like a rag doll thrown from a moving vehicle. He laid on the ground for a moment, putting his jaw back into place before standing and dusting himself off.
"Well…now you've angered me, you pathetic excuse for a Saiyan." He felt the strange increase of his foe's power, it wasn't something he'd ever felt before. Just what was he? But there was no time for his musings, he was going to have to step up his game and try different things. Going to blows at this point could end up being fatal.
Raditto clenched his fist and raised his power to match that of his foe, his body felt lighter and more powerful than before. The warrior he fought was slow, but hit like a truck. His best option was to use his speed and intelligence to his advantage. Dashing straight up this time, rather than forward, Raditto crossed his arms in front of his chest. He gathered ki, forming it in his mouth and throat as the power began to show in his aura.
"BE READY FOR HELL, FOR THE EMPEROR DEMANDS RETRIBUTION! CHOU MAKOUHOU!" The energy began to shine through his open mouth, forming what seemed to be a ball before it was released. The torrent of energy, lead by the orb that was formed, took the shape of a massive beam.
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Orache watched as the energy raced towards him, his fist curled to his side. Dark purple energy swirled around it and he merely smirked at his foe. The crimson wave coming towards him was nothing compared to his own, as his attack had a certain special property to it that made it fairly unique. Firing his fist forward, the small beam of purple energy encased around his entire figure to meet the crimson blast. As they collided, Orache's smirked widened as it seemed to be engulfed by the attack. ~Pierced right through, that arrogant fool won't know what hit him.~
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Raditto had been more focused on his foe this time, hearing the thoughts. His mind rewundrd at the thought for only a moment. ~Piercing? How did he managed to figure that out?~ He stopped his energy flow and dodged right, at the very moment the purple energy broke through. He dodged the brunt of the attack, but his shoulder felt the searing pain and following numbness of his nerve endings being burnt to a crisp. Removing his cape and tossing it aside, Raditto's rage was building with every passing moment.
But surprisingly, the King merely laughed at his foe. "Did you really think that would stop me? You must be even a bigger fool than I first thought."
Dashing down, he threw a barrage of punches at his slower opponent. Two out of every three connected with the man, shots to the face and body were beginning to make their effects know. Blood from torn skin began to appear across the body of Orache, his torso clothing turning to shreds. With a colossal kick, Orache's body rose into the air and the King pounded away into his midsection.
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Orache's body felt like lead in the presence of Raditto, every time he increased his own speed to dodge, it seemed like his foe put himself one step ahead of him. It was mind boggling, this man was definitely worth more mention than what legend made him seem. It was nearly time for him to stop playing around, however, his body was really beginning to feel pain now.
Trying to right himself, he battled back but each of his blows were deflected rather than blocked. It seemed that the King had figured out his area of expertise in melee combat. Throwing a wild kick, Orache's eyes widened as Raditto simply disappeared from his view. But he didn't have time to search as a punishing blow rained down upon his head, sending him spiraling into the steel below. The ground gave way upon impact, showering the area in a massive cloud of flame and a rain of fist sized scrapped metal.
The young man staggered up, his breaths heavy and exasperated. Despite his Ki being increased two fold, his enemy had done the same to match up. His speed something quite incredible. It seemed Raditto had truly claimed the false title of Saiyan King. He wasn't to survive this battle- Orache was to escape this dreaded clunk of metal, even if it took him hours upon hours. As he recover from the clash with the ground, he forgot to have looked up, as Raditto had crashed down upon the seasoned Saiyajin. Receiving a double handed axe punch directly against his cranium, sending him face first into the steel floor once more. He could hear, though; Emperor Raditto stepping forward and crushing Orache's head beneath his boot.
"Well, fool. Play time is over: Good. Bye!" Raditto opened his maw upon finishing his sentence, his jaw dropping and the single ball of concentrated ki resonating once more. His eyes widening as he prepare another Chou Makouhou at the point blank range. The Saiyajin beneath his boot at the brink of exhaustion. He had to pull, though. His fight for freedom being the most important thing he could do. As the beam escaped the Emperor's mouth, Orache had seemed to move as quick as he could. Darting from the ground to the Saiyan King Raditto's hind area before using his own technique.
The roar of the Oozaru crying out as he unleash the technique known as the Oozaru Combination. His fists smashing against the wicked emperor's spinal cord and crashing against the back of his skull. His every grunt accompanying each landed blow, his speed something fierce. "You, are already dead." Orache sighed as he unleash the final strike against the wicked King's neck. Striking each and every important nerve to end the Saiyajin's life. Raditto had crashed down against the floor, landing on his knees with a surprised and solid expression, taking a moment to throw up the essence of life into himself before falling face first.
Quickly, Orache had made a mad dash for the King's mainframe. The Vegeseijin tapping a number of keys and buttons with extreme haste. First going for an Attack Pod to escape. He could already see from the window the cold, cold life that was Arcose closing in. His fingers tapping along the buttons quickly. Without worry, the Attack Pod was given to him without too much clearance, the pod door opening where it would blast off. A second after, he clicked for the ships selfdestruct. He may have had killed the "King" but, he had to continue with the destruction for once and all.
"And..there. Sweet dreams, King Raditto." Orache smirked, waving to the King before jumping into the attack pod without hesitation. Closing the door with a serious haste and using his knowledge over Saiyajin technology to input the coordinates for Earth once more. A smirk on his slender face as he burst out into the depths of space once more. The reflection of utter catastrophic events occurring behind him, the luxurious ship of Raditto exploding in a firework of beauty.
He had escaped.
The travel ball had zoomed through the depths of space, escaping the cold aura of Arcose. One day. One day the forsaken planet of spoiled midgets would suffer the wrath of the Saiyajin empire. Just they await. Until then however, they could frolic all they wish. The Saiyajin would believe this with the utmost respect. The shadow of the Arcosian planet becoming less zoomed and close as he rocket through the black of the galaxy. With each drawing second, he'd get close to Earth- A land of refuge. At least there he could regenerate his health and forge alliance with certain residents.
Orache felt himself become rather drowsy. His head plopping against the crimson cushion behind him and his arms crossing over one another. The sweet embrace of sleep coming over him and making time seem to fly by. All the while, the white of the Attack Ball bursted through the intergalactic barriers between Arcose's coordinates and into another planets territory. Orache sitting tight and simply snoozing the way he did. His breaths slow and steady, in comparison to how heavy and pained they were during his clash against King Raditto. The cursed false King. He hoped he died in the destruction of the luxury ship.
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More than an hour later..
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The Attack Ball had crashed along unfamiliar grounds. The Saiyajin within awakened during impacted and opening the hatch that held him. Climbing out and stretching each of his limbs, Orache eyed the land. It was truly strange. It was reminiscent of Earth and Vegesei but not exact. Not only this but it was desolate. Weird. Terror must have struck- That, or it was conquered and forgotten about. Regardless, it was to be his place of refuge until he was at his maximum and could travel again.
Unbeknownst to Orache, he was on an uncharted planet. It's name being Sylor.
Orache huffed heavily, climbing out fully before bursting into the skies and zooming along the planet in search of nutrient and the like. This oughtta be easy..
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Nearly half a year later..
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It was well overdue. Orache was at his maximum. He simply had been living on the desolate planet for refuge from the Arcosians whom captured him the previous year. It was time for him to set course for earth. The Saiyajin climbing into the dusted Attack Pod and closing the hatch after sitting down, punching in the chart for the planet of legends. The orb picking up from the soil of Sylor and booming out into the outter galaxy once more. Making way for Earth!
The ball rocketed out into the outter reaches of space. He was back on track to the planet of Earth. While he did want to get to somewhere notably safe and populated a thought had cross his mind as he engage in the travel; Once he entered the atmosphere, he'd have to become one with earthly civilization again. He had grown rather used to living the life a seasoned Saiyajin warrior. The lifestyle his father(s) would have wanted him to have, over the one on Earth
And he didn't even want to do so, either. However, if he wanted to stay anonymous to the intergalactic races he would need to become like the Humans and the such on Earth. The pure white and crimson orb had darted through the stars, the thinking Saiyajin resting his head against the red seat and cushion behind him, eyes slowly beginning to drop and shutter closed as he grew increasingly bored.
He thought of where he'd stay, when he would get there and what would happen as an entirety. The one answer his brain could truly churn out was: Somewhere in the North, somewhere in a year or so and that he would be able to live out his days like any other lowly human that reside on that accursed planet. However it was required of himself to go. The needless thinking driving the Saiyajin to falling asleep in the pod. His breathing become even more slow and twice as calm than it was when he had initially jumped into the pod. His arms crossed and the golden gauntlets around his forearms and wrists grinding against one another with the the utmost ease. Even his sleeping face was calm. His eyes shut up and his mouth a little bit open, nose wriggling somewhat. A little bubble escaping his nostril.
The Attack Pod's coordinates had been locked when he set course. And they had to be accurate, as he input the landing space for Jingle Village. "X13, Y91". The thing set to pilot itself while its inhabitant rest himself for his life on the soil of planet earth. While he himself was indifferent to it, much unlike his estranged father, he had to admit there wa some qualities of living among humans. Their foods, goods and women. Certain luxuries that even Vegesei didn't have. While, yes, some women talked back they were easily swooned by the Saiyajin's way of speech and the way he worked his tail. However, such ways of speaking really weren't important. What was, was his safe travel into the Earths district. Otherwise, all else had to be back burner and that's final.
As Orache fell prisoner to sleeps sweet embrace once more, his dream state was quite something. Within the depths of his very mind, he imagined his adopted Father beside a vague image of his true Father. Orion, the Saiyajin who worked with an Arcosian. And the other, Pumpukin. He who raised Orache to be a fierce warrior the way his bastard father didn't. Both men rooting for their child the way Saiyajin did- Through abrasive love. Mocking him and telling him he couldn't amount to anything unless he pushed his limits. Issuing threats of pure shame and dishonor. These harsh truths making him increasingly angered. Orache's dream time version of himself shouting at the more powerful forefathers and attempting to strike them, his figure being pushed forward through concentrated Ki. His strike held short as an elbow from both men smashed into his spine. While it was a dream, it still made him shutter in the real world..
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A Year Later
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The Attack Pod was closing in. Orache gazing at the tiny orb of blue and green, small stripes of white glazing over it. The growing Saiyan laying back in the chair and his arms still crossed. He had made several stops along the trip from Sylor to make sure his body hadn't become useless after remaining in a sphere for an entire year. He was smart enough bot to allow himself become an utter vegetable the way the obese monsters of several planets he had come across. Needless to say, they had become his supper for obvious reasons. His belly had become somewhat swollen and his cheeks filled to the level of bulging during several trips but burned off immediately whenever he found a well gravitated planet. Something about the entire process made Orache chuckle to himself during the way to Earth.
Yes. The earth had become full, the Attack Pod bursting into the earths atmosphere quickly. Flames encasing the white sphere as it crash down into the world of the Humans and the inhabitants that guard it. Orache glaring down at the closing in ground, his arms still crossed as he show little to jo fear for the way he simply bursted down. He could see the white of snow that lay over most of the northern continent like a sheet of white that overlay a mans bed. The ground lying hushed by the graceful sheet of ice. In a matter of seconds, the pod crashed. The collective force behind it pushing up snow as it roll into the area of Yunzabit Highlands. Stopping at full as soon as the orb made contact with the Highlands beginning. Where one would ascend up into the arena for the most hardened of fighters.
Orache punching the closed hatchet of a door. The snow that encase the door freezing it over before his fist could bust it into bits. He was free of the spheres embrace once again. Jumping out of the pod, he somersault beside the piece of technology. Tapping it gently before spitting onto the pure white that crush beneath his boot. He was officially on Earth..