Post by Raisu Hanamura on Nov 2, 2015 23:27:04 GMT
(Thread PL: 134,516. Heavy weights on. Weighted PL: 33,629)
Raisu stood beneath the warm sun of the Southern Islands, stripped down to his jeans. He was sweating. Perhaps not from the heat, but from the pressure he was putting on himself. His core was tight, and his entire body felt like it was about to shatter. His energy was burning, bright like a candle, trying to ignite into something greater. His chest hurt. He didn’t know why. It was not as if he’d taken a blow recently. No, he’d not done much fighting as of late. Just training and more training. Gravity training to be exact, but he was taking a break from that, at least for a couple weeks. The idea of pushing his body too hard might have been a distant one once upon a time, but now it was a stark possibility. It scared him. Of course, all he did was put himself in harm’s way. Hell, it wasn’t that long ago that he had fought the Saiyan traitor Natto. That had been particularly brave of him. Or stupid, depending on who you asked. But it had been a learning experience, as all things were. And an inspiration as well. Not that Natto himself was particularly inspiring, but the idea of punching his stupid, genocidal face was.
But he just wasn’t strong enough. Hell, Raisu couldn’t even hurt the guy. The man had shrugged off every blow Raisu had thrown at him. Natto was some kind of monster, the most powerful being Raisu had ever encountered. And Raisu liked to think he knew a lot of strong people. There was that mysterious girl who had interfered with Raisu and Jarvis’s fight. And, to think about it, Jarvis was also among those whose strength came to mind. Where did these people get so much strength? And could Raisu reach the same echelon?
That is why he was here. His toes dug into the sand on the beachside like claws as he tensed his entire body. He could feel his ki rising and falling rapidly, reaching amazing heights but quickly plummeting again. Was he tasting the power of a Super Saiyan? Maybe. Raisu didn’t particularly know what Super Saiyan was. An image flashed through his mind: the Saiyan queen, her hair all golden and spiked, delivering her ultimatum to Earth. Was that a Super Saiyan? Probably. It certainly fit the description Articho had given him.
Perhaps Raisu just wasn’t good enough to reach that tier of power. Compared to most folks, he was downright weak. Pitiful even. He couldn’t even maintain this power. Raisu tensed his body again, sand flying away from his as his energy flared to life. His power was climbing, climbing, but ultimately, falling. Had it been easy for those Saiyans, the ones who had came to Earth to slaughter? Did their Saiyan upbringing allow them to break through the ceiling that Raisu himself seemed to be hitting? Or perhaps it was something else entirely. Raisu might be missing something, some intrinsic part of Saiyanhood that was required to join the ranks of such warriors? Perhaps it just wasn’t in his blood. He was a halfblood after all. What good was this tail, really? Aside from turning him into a monster once in a blue, or full, moon, he’d never had a use for it. By Kami, it had even been a handicap at one point. Good thing he’d taken care of that. It had only taken one drunk with a hatred of Saiyans to disable. But never again.
With one final push, Raisu put all of himself into his ki. The aura around him became visible, a dull yellow in color. Fool’s gold, he thought to himself. But it dissipated as quickly as it had come. His knees buckled. Why now? Raisu had conquered gravity, for Kami’s sake. Why did this trouble him so? It even hurt him, he realized. That pain in his chest… It was from whatever stress he was putting himself under.
He collapsed to his knees, releasing his ki one final time. Sand flew all around him as he did, but that was the most impressive thing about it. He bent over, hands in the sand, gasping for air, trying to relieve the pain in his chest. Trembling, he brought his hand to his chest, massaging it. What in the world was wrong with him?
“Dammit,” he whispered. Was it even worth it, trying to become a Super Saiyan. He felt like he was killing himself whenever he made that desperate push to break on through. Some protector he was. How was he supposed to keep his promise to himself when all he could do was make sand fly about? Sure, he thought to himself, that’ll stop the maniacs who can destroy planets on a whim. Raisu had come to one final conclusion: he was useless.
With a sigh, Raisu rose to his feet, his body still aching. That was enough for today, he decided. For now, he’d simply walk the beach. He held a hand over his eyes, looking out to the sea. It was beautiful, especially the way the sun caught the sun’s rays, like crystals. He loved the beach. He really did. Raisu began to walk down the beach he loved so much, still stripped to only his pants. He’d left his jacket and tee shirt at home, the beach house. Or as he liked to call it: the waste of space attached to his gravity chamber. Whatever it was to him, it wasn’t far. Just a short fly away. He might walk for hours and be home in minutes.
But for now, he walked, welcoming whatever he found along the shoreline.
Raisu stood beneath the warm sun of the Southern Islands, stripped down to his jeans. He was sweating. Perhaps not from the heat, but from the pressure he was putting on himself. His core was tight, and his entire body felt like it was about to shatter. His energy was burning, bright like a candle, trying to ignite into something greater. His chest hurt. He didn’t know why. It was not as if he’d taken a blow recently. No, he’d not done much fighting as of late. Just training and more training. Gravity training to be exact, but he was taking a break from that, at least for a couple weeks. The idea of pushing his body too hard might have been a distant one once upon a time, but now it was a stark possibility. It scared him. Of course, all he did was put himself in harm’s way. Hell, it wasn’t that long ago that he had fought the Saiyan traitor Natto. That had been particularly brave of him. Or stupid, depending on who you asked. But it had been a learning experience, as all things were. And an inspiration as well. Not that Natto himself was particularly inspiring, but the idea of punching his stupid, genocidal face was.
But he just wasn’t strong enough. Hell, Raisu couldn’t even hurt the guy. The man had shrugged off every blow Raisu had thrown at him. Natto was some kind of monster, the most powerful being Raisu had ever encountered. And Raisu liked to think he knew a lot of strong people. There was that mysterious girl who had interfered with Raisu and Jarvis’s fight. And, to think about it, Jarvis was also among those whose strength came to mind. Where did these people get so much strength? And could Raisu reach the same echelon?
That is why he was here. His toes dug into the sand on the beachside like claws as he tensed his entire body. He could feel his ki rising and falling rapidly, reaching amazing heights but quickly plummeting again. Was he tasting the power of a Super Saiyan? Maybe. Raisu didn’t particularly know what Super Saiyan was. An image flashed through his mind: the Saiyan queen, her hair all golden and spiked, delivering her ultimatum to Earth. Was that a Super Saiyan? Probably. It certainly fit the description Articho had given him.
Perhaps Raisu just wasn’t good enough to reach that tier of power. Compared to most folks, he was downright weak. Pitiful even. He couldn’t even maintain this power. Raisu tensed his body again, sand flying away from his as his energy flared to life. His power was climbing, climbing, but ultimately, falling. Had it been easy for those Saiyans, the ones who had came to Earth to slaughter? Did their Saiyan upbringing allow them to break through the ceiling that Raisu himself seemed to be hitting? Or perhaps it was something else entirely. Raisu might be missing something, some intrinsic part of Saiyanhood that was required to join the ranks of such warriors? Perhaps it just wasn’t in his blood. He was a halfblood after all. What good was this tail, really? Aside from turning him into a monster once in a blue, or full, moon, he’d never had a use for it. By Kami, it had even been a handicap at one point. Good thing he’d taken care of that. It had only taken one drunk with a hatred of Saiyans to disable. But never again.
With one final push, Raisu put all of himself into his ki. The aura around him became visible, a dull yellow in color. Fool’s gold, he thought to himself. But it dissipated as quickly as it had come. His knees buckled. Why now? Raisu had conquered gravity, for Kami’s sake. Why did this trouble him so? It even hurt him, he realized. That pain in his chest… It was from whatever stress he was putting himself under.
He collapsed to his knees, releasing his ki one final time. Sand flew all around him as he did, but that was the most impressive thing about it. He bent over, hands in the sand, gasping for air, trying to relieve the pain in his chest. Trembling, he brought his hand to his chest, massaging it. What in the world was wrong with him?
“Dammit,” he whispered. Was it even worth it, trying to become a Super Saiyan. He felt like he was killing himself whenever he made that desperate push to break on through. Some protector he was. How was he supposed to keep his promise to himself when all he could do was make sand fly about? Sure, he thought to himself, that’ll stop the maniacs who can destroy planets on a whim. Raisu had come to one final conclusion: he was useless.
With a sigh, Raisu rose to his feet, his body still aching. That was enough for today, he decided. For now, he’d simply walk the beach. He held a hand over his eyes, looking out to the sea. It was beautiful, especially the way the sun caught the sun’s rays, like crystals. He loved the beach. He really did. Raisu began to walk down the beach he loved so much, still stripped to only his pants. He’d left his jacket and tee shirt at home, the beach house. Or as he liked to call it: the waste of space attached to his gravity chamber. Whatever it was to him, it wasn’t far. Just a short fly away. He might walk for hours and be home in minutes.
But for now, he walked, welcoming whatever he found along the shoreline.