Zasho Hirugetsu
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Post by Zasho Hirugetsu on Jan 10, 2015 21:13:03 GMT
For two days, the spacepod had hurtled through space bearing a single occupant.
A Saiyan amongst his kinsman, a warrior born and beaten until he was battle worthy.
Zasho Hirugetsu, of royalty and barbarism, was a Saiyan on a mission.
"Landing in twenty-seven seconds, Zasho," the computer chirped as fire encircled the pod, the roar of the craft's descent permeating through the thick metals of the orb's walls. The Saiyan ground his teeth in response, bracing himself with his ki and his physical strength as his aura flared within the craft, his arms bracing himself.
"Ten seconds, sir," the female voice offered, and the Saiyan smiled. Already the holographic screens pouring before his eyes offered several fighting powers in his own range, and several more that brought a gleeful spurt of laughter up from his lungs, through his throat, and out his mouth. Kajaso Catin had given him a year, and he would certainly require it should those six digits prove hostile.
"Three seconds, master Hirugetsu," and through the window the Saiyan took in the expanse of golden sands looming before him before he closed his eyes tightly. Normally he preferred a watery landing, but his calculations had been off. Chances were that his ship would not survive this crash landing, and those chances proved to be fact as the spacepod pounded against the surface of this planet so new to the warrior within.
The metal, plastics, rubbers, and fabrics were burnt away as the pod burrowed into the sand-dune, kicking up a mushroom cloud of superheated sands a mile high. Deep within the cloud of dirt, a cyan aura burned brightly as Zasho Hirugetsu lifted himself up above the impact crater, the swirling particles making way before his might that would most certainly be tested 'pon this backwater shit-hole.
As always, the Saiyan waited. The natives would respond, and they would respond soon. Within minutes the dust had dissipated, and the warrior stood where his crater began, his form relaxed and his features calm as his onyx eyes scanned the endless expanse for whomever chose to greet his arrival first. Perhaps there would be blood?
Hirugetsu grinned excitedly at the thought.
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Ora
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Post by Ora on Jan 10, 2015 21:35:24 GMT
This was becoming quite boring.
Searching the land for a target or someone who could prove worthy in the arts of battle was becoming a hassle. His previous encounter with an Arcosian had gotten him to become, rather, sour. His mood ultimately ruined by the turn of events and the large gap in power between he and the dastardly tyrant. However, he would have to digress, as he had heard something. Perhaps it was trouble or just a natural occurrence?
Either way, the Saiyajin named Orache, was to investigate. His speed had increased, his green tinted aura encasing his limbs and body from the added value in his time. His body looking much like a shooting star to the inhabitants of Earth below him. His spiked hair had been flowing back in the wind, a single band whipping rather wildly- the way his tail had done the same. His crimson red sash tightened around his waist and keeping his baggy trousers up.
Orache had reached destination quickly. Stopping before the mushroom like cloud had dissipated from existence and revealed whatever had caused it. The Saiyan arching his left eyebrow up and lowered his other out of curiosity, his lips puckered toward the side a small bit. His chestnut brown tail whipping about. His own eyes had lurched down to gaze upon the pod that caused such an incredible crater- Saiyan technology. Either this disturbance was of his own people or someone who believe them self slick enough to pretend they could emulate the proud race.
His suspicion was out to rest quickly, as he gaze upon the revealed life form. His eyes quickly averting to the tail behind him and then the striking features. One of his own people? On Earth? Why?!
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Zucceta
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Post by Zucceta on Jan 10, 2015 21:54:29 GMT
Sand. Its coarse, rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere. Zucceta frowns as she removes her battle armour once again, shaking the damn thing to try and free the particles that were trapped in the breast-plate. She had woken up at four in the morning, just as the first ray of sunlight had peaked up above the dunes. She woke shivering, her fire gone out a couple of hours prior, but she soon warmed up - a breakfast of snake, followed by a casual two thousand push-ups. Then, training began. The day prior, she had noticed a large rock formation to her south. She had decided that she was to whittle it into the form of herself, a test of strength discipline, and using only punches, relying on the amount of power behind her impacts and weakening certain points in the structure, to then be removed in a decisive blow. It had taken a large amount of the morning, from the position of the sun, now almost at the center of the sky, and the result had been imperfect, but then, she was training. But she had somehow got sand all up in her crevices, and she couldn't get the damn particles out of her armo-
That is when the sonic boom hits her ears, and she looks up, her eyes scanning the sky. She quickly spots the culprit of this disturbance, a spacecraft not unlike her own ages-worn model that was embedded in a forest somewhere. She clucks impatiently. Just about as she was about to start another round of training, too. Still, the day was young; she had about twelve hours left of good training time. Somewhat reluctantly she pulls the armor back over her under-suit, wrapping her tail around her waist, and raises into the sky just as the pod crashes with a great calamitous 'thoom.
A great brown-orange cloud erupts into the sky, rushing towards Zucceta. She groans, rolling her eyes, and ignites her aura, fizzing with a relaxed energy that was still strong enough from preventing her armor from getting even more full of sand. Once the cloud passes her, she flares up her aura strongly, making sure no stray particles would stay on her person. She takes a deep breath. In two hours time, a sandstorm would reach South Capitol, choking up cars and clogging up the rivers and canals of the surrounding country for days, until a rainstorm would wash it all away.
Her eyes, scanning the ground, confirmed an initial suspicion - the craft was indeed a traditionally saiyan design. While it was unheard of for other space-faring empires and species to use them, it was the model of choice for saiyans who couldn't travel in greater style... much like Zucceta herself. While she was working to change that, contracting... no, whoring herself out to these filthy Terrans to earn the money to do so, it was also a relief that she could still track down her original pod if need be. It had another trip left in it.
Zucceta whistles. The impact crater was particularly impressive; the craft must have been travelling at some speed, and at some heat. While it wasn't the largest radius she had ever seen, the sand surrounding it had turned to pure glass from the heat. In fact, there were probably some glass particles in the atmosphere right now, falling somewhere far in the distance. She chuckles. Saiya-kind always knew how to make the best entrances.
Her eyes travel to the side, spotting another dot moving towards the scene. She squints. Another tail. Zucceta couldn't help but chuckle. Half the notable people on this planet were saiyans, or had saiyan blood. What, wasn't Vegeta good enough for these people?
She laughs aloud. Maybe she'd finally meet some saiyans worthy of her attention. Dropping from the skies, she lands just across from Orache, and looks from him to Zasho Hiregetsu, a saiyan clad more like her. She smiles. "Nice battle-armor. Never thought I'd say this, but it's almost a relief to see a model like that."
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hi5jjXTPtyY)
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Zasho Hirugetsu
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Post by Zasho Hirugetsu on Jan 10, 2015 22:22:15 GMT
A pair. With calm eyes and the grin wiped away only to be replaced by a smirk, the one known as Zasho Hirugetsu glanced first to the male, and then to the female. From the teenager, Hirugetsu guessed, not a word was uttered, but the female had offered a compliment toward the dark armor he wore about his torso, the accents of orange new as the rest of it. Coal eyes were cast toward the woman, his tail flicking absentmindedly behind his muscular physique standing upon the heated glass which bothered not those feet of his encased in the thick cloth of his boots.
The Saiyan had expected resistance from the denizens of this planet, for two days he had parted the dark waters of space only to arrive and be greeted by his own people! The boy was an unknown, the woman offered compliment, and both were of his own race, the Saiyans! The tail behind him flicked faster with his agitation as his eyes glanced to and fro, his mentality awash with confusion. It was known that many Saiyan had taken up residence on this poor excuse for a planet, weaklings seeking to mate with the human females and males, and almost immediately Zasho dismissed them both as such.
Weakness must be eradicated, should their purpose be found to be the aforementioned thought process, he decided, and his arms folded over his chest with distaste.
"Deserters shouldn't wear that armor, woman," he offered with a cocky smile now wiping away the smirk. Zasho would have his welcoming battle one way or another.
His attention was turned towards the other male.
"Fuck are you, a mute? A small wonder you abandoned your home!"
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Ora
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Post by Ora on Jan 10, 2015 22:37:18 GMT
A second one.
He knew that there were Saiyans on planet, but assumed they all went primitive or gone native. It was a damned shame, really. Orache glared at the other Saiyajin whom had joined he and the unknown male. It seemed he was the only one of the trio that hadn't bore the traditional armor of his race. Too bad, he only wore his during special occasions.
“I don't talk to people weaker than me. It's pretty unfortunate that I hadn't left my home- Rather taken. But I'm not getting into that.” Orache smiled some, his tail whipping to and fro.
Mating with one of the earthlings was something he wouldn't plan on doing. His seed was to be planted in a strong, Saiyan woman that was even worthy of bearing his own. Though, Orache had figured that was the intent of Zasho as well; Causing him to begin a dark chuckle.
“It's a strange model of armor. My name is Orache. I dont know what the female or your name is. Care to tell?” He dismissed the hostility and awaited further action. Almost teasing for battle to occur, using some kind of cool and collected exterior rather than giving an outburst of reply.
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Zucceta
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Post by Zucceta on Jan 10, 2015 22:58:49 GMT
Her tail tensed, her teeth grinding together. There were two potent nouns in Zasho's dialect that had rendered Zucceta immediately furious. Calling her a deserter, which just was not true, and reducing her to 'woman'. If she were better tempered she would swallow the rage and turn it into a lingual venom, spitting up a snappy retort that would hopefully render her foe equally furious. But life had given her too much bullshit in the last few months, starting with a beat-down on Vegeta by a group of elite soldiers, and ending with a beat-down on Earth by a single saiyan, self-styled in Terran clothing and morality. She had dedicated herself to getting stronger, waaaaay stronger, and eradicating this piece of trash from the universe, the first stepping stone on her own personal path to greatness; but, for now, her pride still stung, a knife-wound bathed in salt.
She had almost been happy to see a fellow saiyan, then remembered why she was stuck on this planet in the first place. Lady Death swallows one deep breath, allows the third saiyan to speak, while closing her eyes.
And then, in an instant, she plunges forward, face twisted with an incandescent snarl. Her right hand was curled into a compact fist, all of her weight behind the arm, her legs swivelling as she reaches Zasho with all the confidence of a professional boxer. With irate purpose she throws the punch, aiming straight for the saiyan's nose, hoping to re-arrange his face, bend it into a shape of her own vengeful choosing. And, for a moment, her rage was replaced by the joyous pumping of her saiyan spirit, her warrior spirit. I'm going to make this bastard pay for that remark.
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Zasho Hirugetsu
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Post by Zasho Hirugetsu on Jan 10, 2015 23:25:06 GMT
It was a strange model of armor, but perhaps the other male had been removed from Vegetasei for far too long. A newer model that could actually withstand some damage at higher levels of combat as opposed to the more ornamental finery the younger man spoke of adorned Zasho Hirugetsu. The breastplate had cost a sizable sum of zeni, but it was a price Zasho had been willing to pay. From the short statement and questioning, Zasho confirmed that the woman nor the teenager knew the other, and the youngster bore the title Orache.
His name? "Zasho Hiru. . ." the Saiyan began, but suddenly a burst of speed bore the woman toward him. Battle-instinct overrode everything within him as he struggled to focus on the streaking form, letting his energy skyrocket to the fullest as she approached. Powering up did little to improve his perception of her approach, for the woman was far, far faster than he. The realization hit him immediately as she came upon him, her powerful arm lashing out with a practiced strike aimed directly for the center of his face.
Should the woman had been closer to his own power, her sudden burst of anger may have swayed the opening engagement in his own favor. Zasho was a famed counter-striker, and such assaults were his bread and butter. In milliseconds of milliseconds, he calculated the best course of action as his body responded to his reactionary processes and his body loosened after the initial explosion of his power. With a movement of his hips and a swaying of his spine, Zasho's form began to roll to the side to allow the attack to soar harmlessly past his face and his own right arm began to loop out in that crushing hook that had stopped so many in their forward momentum.
Sadly, he was no where near quick enough. His movement dampened the strike aimed for his nose, and her knuckles impacted with a resounding crack as his flesh split under her strength. The body of the Saiyan tumbled backwards, tearing up the sand and ditching it under his weight as his own Saiyan pride and anger rippled up through his inner being, amplifying the outer as he pushed himself up atop the baking sands with a fist to return to his full height.
"ZASHO HIRUGETSU!" he roared, the cyan of his energies tearing the dirt beneath him as his body levitated, the energies humming with his bio-electricity as his Tsurunoha sparked into existence. The twin spheres were densely packed orbs of energy, and they circled him as he ushered the woman forward for another attempt at disfiguring his features whilst blood rolled down from a split cheekbone, staining the yellow sand red.
"C'mon, WOMAN!" Zasho beckoned, his pride too injured to see he was vastly overmatched.
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Ora
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Post by Ora on Jan 10, 2015 23:42:01 GMT
“Zasho Hiru..?”
Orache raised a brow and tilted his head toward the side some. His confused look being replaced by one of excitement and joy- For the woman beside him had gone completely to her roots and allowed some rage to encase her soul like a lantern doused in gasoline, then lit by the flames of the damned below the heavens and earth. Not only such, but it was somewhat entertaining to see him get struck down by a female.
The Saiyajin figured: Why not? The first strike was made and he wanted to fight. His blood was boiling just from seeing Zucetta break his cheeks skin and cause his essence of life to drip. Orache watched as the once cocky Saiyan below him had immediately gotten angry. Perhaps he was one of those narcissistic types that suddenly sprung into a fit of rage when their features were disturbed and the such. Orache sighing some before bending his knees and concentrating his inner chi.
His aura flaring out like a fire from a lighter, he gave a toothy smirk. Watching the female named Zucetta carefully as well the charging beam that Zasho had been preparing. His arched brow powered and furrowed with his other to give a Warrior's glare. Taking but a mere half of a minute, Orache moved like lightning as he zipped down and before Zasho, his fingers all curled into his palm, nails digging into the skin before he used his natural strength to rock the tightened fist toward the Saiyajin's side.
Orache and Zasho were more equal in power, thus giving the opposing Saiyan a bit more of a chance than he did against the Lady of Death, whom presumably had been floating above them still. She seemed to be culled after belittling the newcomer Saiyajin. Had the male failed at his strike, he would have been vulnerable to a full on burst from the Tsurunoha or even a charged fist toward the body. Had he been struck, either way, he'd be more charged with vigor and excitement.
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Zucceta
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Post by Zucceta on Jan 11, 2015 0:11:44 GMT
The blow connected, almost entirely successfully. Instead of breaking Zasho's nose out of shape, Zucceta carved a decent portion of his cheek with her bare knuckle. She releases a triumphant howl and jumps backwards as her foe bounces along the mixture of sand and glass. She runs her tongue along her bottom lip. "My name is Death, and I am no fucking deserter." Her aura, red as genocide, bursts up from her feet and surrounds her body, and along with the other two combatant's flaring auras, the combined energy output begins to whip the dunes into the air. She smirks. "Don't cry, dear, you weren't handsome to begin with!"
She watches, intrigued, as two orbs burned into reality and began to orbit the opposing warrior. What purpose might they serve? Due to Zucceta's inability to sense, she couldn't tell the nature of that chi, but it did not look like he was charging them into anything. Might they be defensive appendages, designed to block incoming blasts, or something else entirely?
With a chuckle she moves back towards her perceived 'prey'... but Orache struck first. A vein forces its way to her forehead in an exasperated growl. Why the hell would this guy get in her way? But, of course, he was a saiyan too, and wanted some of this action too. Well, she would give him action.
Moving swiftly closer to the action with a burst of chi and flare of the aura, he slams her leg out at the newest combatant, with two distinct purposes - one, to knock him away from her fight, and two, to crack his rib with the heel of her foot. She was enamored with Zasho's technique, and wanted to experience it first-hand; this fool could wait his turn.
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Zasho Hirugetsu
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Post by Zasho Hirugetsu on Jan 11, 2015 0:34:10 GMT
The younger male, named Orache, had joined the fight as a Saiyan should. Zasho smiled inwardly at the idea, letting his power wash over him while his striking orbs spun, their particles packed densely enough to mimic fists in weight. That crimson rolled from his cut, dripping over his jawbone before his tongue lashed out to taste the battle whilst the last to join the struggle approached, combat first and foremost his desire. The pair were Saiyan, that was without doubt!
. . .Zasho meant to show them that he too could stand amongst them as one of their race's finest and answer them blow for blow, or, as would soon be the case, blows for blow.
"That's it!" he exclaimed, excitement exploding within him in these throes of glorious battle as Orache settled before him, lashing out with a hook towards his ribs that those coal eyes could follow, and his body naturally reacted with haste. It seemed the youngster even held more power within him, Zasho gathered from the initial moments, but this was a man he could potentially best. Of unwavering confidence, the Saiyan was certain of the idea.
With planted feet and power the fist arched inward, and Zasho freed his own stance from the ground as he circled with his Bukujutsu, dampening the strike as he felt some oxygen leave his lungs. No grunt left his lips, no pain showed upon his face, NAY, the Saiyan smiled at his brother whilst his two arms guarded his injured cheek and the skull it rested upon with a tight guard. For the slightest wrinkle the fabric of time, it seemed Zasho Hirugetsu meant to offer no physical reply.
"Behind you," he offered, as the ferocious female approached and those twin spheres of his accelerated as they passed behind him in their revolution, lashing out and straying away from the tight path they had once held around their energy center, their lord and master, Zasho Hirugetsu. One sphere aimed for the jaw of Orache whilst the other accelerated toward his own ribcage.
It seemed the youngest of the assembled three had been caught between Zasho's violent rebuttal and Zucetta's sudden assault all at once.
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Ora
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Post by Ora on Jan 11, 2015 0:49:56 GMT
His attempt had failed? What a pity. He was a tad stunned, for he had simply gazed at the opponent whom had rushes up into Heavens above to avoid the hook toward his ribs. However, there wasn't a frame of breathing to be allowed, as he had spoke of some kind of warning, alerting the youngest Saiyajin to something coming for him. Orache twisting around to face Zucetta and, well, accept the attack coming for his rib cage.
The youngster sent tumbling toward the side and effectively, keeping him from the destructive impact that was aimed toward his chin and ribs. It seemed that was a favorite place to attack.. None the less, Orache had recovered from the tumble rather quickly as he spun on his back, imitating a hurricane before being put back onto his feet. His teeth being grit and grinded against one another. He had to thank the woman, despite her wanting to hog all of the action.
Orache wanted to shout and curse at her, but something had stopped him. A sharp pain whipping against his ribs, the pain so sensational that it felt like he was being shanked and stabbed with utmost power. His right hand grasping the struck bone and his attempt at speech interrupted by a nasty cough. The essence of his soul being coughed up and dribbling down the corner of his mouth. Though, his tongue lashed against the crimson liquid, his blood boiling like a pot.
“Why you little..!” Orache grunted, allowing Zucetta to fight before he could take advantage of whatever was to come out of it.
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Zucceta
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Post by Zucceta on Jan 11, 2015 19:30:46 GMT
Her blow connected. It had the side effect of knocking the youngest warrior out of the way of Zasho's own assault, but Zucceta was satisfied that her own attack had fulfilled its purposes. She barely registers Orache lamenting her attack, instead focusing directly on Hiregutsu's own technique, the two orbs circling his body. They had moved to hit Orache, and not like your usual energy blasts; they were moving as limbs, with the precision of fists. Something triggers in Zucceta's mind as gears begin to whirl, a memory long since forgotten surging to the surface like the final days of sickness.
A camp fire crackled in the night, two miles south of a burning city. Four warriors sat around it, each saiyan, and clad in the brown-coloured armour that was indicative of their status as members of Apocalypse Incorporated. The tongue-in-cheek name was real enough to the inhabitants of the planet Ghoccia, with all of the major cities decimated within three days of the saiyan team's arrival on the planet. A couple days of clean-up and their job would be done, another potential threat to the Saiya-jin empire laid to ruin, and a planet with untapped natural resources now in its possession. A job well done. But Zucceta was restless.
Cuke and Umber were talking to one another. It sometimes seemed as though the two shared the same mind, which was a boon on the battlefield but odd if you were to engage the pair in conversation outside of it. Still, Zucceta was fond of their quirkiness, they having earned her respect from their brutal combination techniques in the warzone.
They were talking about those old warrior families, and Zucceta wasn't paying any particular attention at the time... but she had heard the name Hirugutsu mentioned many times that night. They were, supposedly, descendants of the families of the great warrior king Koregutsu, and his gladiator-general Hiruen. The pair were still remembered by those who were interested in the history of their empire, when it still had the word 'Solar' in its title, warriors who were remembered as fending off an Arcosian threat, and aided in the defeat of a green-skinned devil. The name Hirugutsu had come about from the grandchildren of those two warriors fusing the families in an act of respect.
In particular, Lady Death was interested when the two twin horsemen began to talk about techniques. It was rumored that all warriors in the family passed down a technique to their children that was almost a sacred rite of passage to learn, a unique attack that a great genius from the Hiruen side had once created. Named after him, it was called...
... the Tsurunoha. Was that the technique her foe was using?
"Why would a member of an old, noble family like you come to this tiny planet, anyway?" Zucceta spits, opening her right hand. Flooding chi through her body, she forces it into a shape jetting from her wrist; a blade, in the style of a scythe. Let's see if his technique can hold up against my Razor.
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Zasho Hirugetsu
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Post by Zasho Hirugetsu on Jan 11, 2015 21:28:24 GMT
The younger male had tumbled successfully away from his assault, a wondrous maneuver Zasho did not doubt enabled by the stationary stance employed when sending his own fist into the ribs of the conqueror. Orache's movement, however, had not evaded the attempt made by the woman, and for the moment he was indisposed whilst composing himself. A meeting of a trio of Saiyans had quickly devolved into an all out brawl in the eyes of various races, but Zasho, and probably, he assumed, the others, thoroughly preferred such a feeling-out process. Before him stood the woman, to his side the one known as Orache. Hirugetsu tightened his stance and readied himself as the woman extended words rather than attack.
"Why would a member of an old, noble family like you come to this tiny planet, anyway?" she spat whilst the digits upon her right unfolded and her energies manifested to produce a wicked blade from the wrist. Zasho eyed her wholly, his attentions never focused on any particular facet of an opposing fighter.
His own weapons revolved around him before one floated casually up to his features while he offered answer.
"For old and noble causes, Lady War," Zasho replied, his demeanor one of cool and calm. The fist-sized sphere positioned near his face pressed against the gashed cheek and pressed before gliding down to send a wash of crimson onto the front of his battle armor. Fresh red bubbled up from the marking the woman he was certain bore the name Zucceta had given him. The wrecking ball of compressed ki resumed that spiral about his figure as he pressed his own inquiry, intrigued now. This woman had been named by Kajaso Catin, and the son of the Hirugetsu clan had been charged with recruiting her to his cause.
"Much the same as you, to conquer, neh?" Ever wary, the Saiyan glanced toward Orache should the other warrior decide another wound should be dealt to the last practitioner of the Tsurunoha.
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Ora
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Post by Ora on Jan 11, 2015 22:18:10 GMT
"What..? What are you both going on about?!" Orache swallowed heavily on the internal essence of force, his tongue flicking against the areas his crimson ooze dribbled down. He wasn't to allow himself bloodshed on such a measly planet. He'd rather knock the lights out of any imbecile who challenge him. These two other Saiyans had been conversing, still. Talking of various clans and the name of the foe Zasho's special technique.
"Enough talking! Fire and show us what have you,scum! I am growing even more angry by simply waiting on your incessant jabber!" The Saiyajin held his rib cage, still, swallowing once more on the erupting life force.
Their chatter had been similar to his own intention. To conquer. However, unlike the other two Saiyajin, Orache hadn't descend from a royal or incredible bloodline. No,instead he had been born to lower class Saiyajin and one bastard father. The usual mix. Orache had become rather curious of what the attack could do, but decided to act. Darting forward and crouching down upon his skidding motion to attempt and circle the Hiregetsu, aiming to capture him into a Full-Nelson. He wanted to take down Zasho first and then feed off of the expertise presented by the supposed Lady War.
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Zucceta
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Post by Zucceta on Jan 12, 2015 0:05:49 GMT
Zucceta frowns. It made sense that an elite might know of her title, but she had long since shed that name. Lady War had died along with the rest of her squadron, in a docking bay in Vegeta's great city, betrayed by other saiyan elites jealous of their success. They had been weak from the conquest, and overwhelmed by numbers... and the truth was, the leader of that rival group had been more than Zucceta or Cherimoya, then-Death and the leader of the Apocalypse Incorporated, could handle on top of the wave of men he had bought with him.
She grimaces. "Conquering is the only goal worth aspiring to, but I have vengeance." She pauses. "Do your superiors not know that my squadron was betrayed? Did they not incline to tell even the elite warriors, privy to most secrets of Saiyan governance, that Apoc Inc. was destroyed? Or, perhaps, they were the ones who set it up?" She bares her teeth.
"I couldn't give a single shit who I fight for. I fight for my brothers and sisters. I fight for my own enjoyment! I FIGHT SO THAT MY FIST TASTES THE BLOOD OF THE WEAK!" She roars, spittle flying from a warrior's lips. "LADY DEATH WILL REAP THE HEADS OF ANY WHO WOULD BETRAY THEIR OWN BRETHREN! A FUCKING GRAND HARVEST!" She closes her mouth, her lip curled into a feral snarl, eyes bulging with psychotic ferocity.
Her eyes track Orache moving into position behind Zasho, but she was momentarily lost in rage. Her pride was insurmountable. She had suffered too much loss at the hands of traitors, and weaklings without warrior spirit. She truly did not care about allegiance to any throne, unlike Zasho; she would gladly fight for anyone if it gave her the opportunity to spill blood and enjoy a fight. But she had been betrayed, and it had probably been ordered by some faceless government official who had never seen a day's combat in his life.
What, then, was the course of action? What path should she take, once she was strong enough to return to Vegeta and avenge her fallen men?
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