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Post by Samba on Mar 24, 2016 19:14:25 GMT
"Hmmm... now if I was a man named Master Beryl, had the power to megaton punch someone from earth to the moon without breaking a sweat, was the leader of an organization that promoted peace and fought corruption or something like that called the Galatic Patrol, and lived in the Eastern Lands, where would I be...?" Samba wondered to himself as he stood atop a hill overlooking the Eastern Lands. "Ugh, I should have probably asked Core for a more thorough description of this Beryl person instead of just asking about the Galactic Patrol and how strong was the man leading its forces," Samba muttered under his breath, swiping his forehead off the slight sweat he had acquired thus far in this seemingly endless search. "Hmmm... I wonder..." He had been trying to sense a large amount of Ki around the area for the past hour, trying to find a large one that would undoubtedly belong to this Master Beryl, but so far he had caught nothing, so perhaps it was time to start thinking outside of the box. Mind made the tall wolf Zoan began to burst his Ki at full power at random intervals, his idea was for the constant beeping that would be caught in someone's radar to attract them to this location to see what the deal was. "I hope that whoever this character is that they're the friendly sort, I wouldn't want to fight them or anything. Come to think of it, I wonder what kind of test would I have to partake in since I want to enroll for the Galactic Patrol. Pin's initiation was sorta... yeah not going there." Samba shook his head and hovered a few feet about the ground, soon enough he was sitting indian style on the air and meditating to pass the time until this Beryl came looking for him. Beryl Roarke
Heavy Weights used. Base PL: 11639 With Weights: 2910
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Mar 25, 2016 1:25:21 GMT
Finally, Samba would get a signal. It was a ki signature – an extremely powerful one at that. If it were recorded on a scouter, its power reading would be well over three million. Not only that, but it was close too, very close. Down the hill’s base was a massive ship, its design modern and sleek. It looked very well made and durable too; the ship was large enough to fit an entire mob of passengers on board. What was more interesting was the fact that the enormously strong ki signature was nestled right inside of the spacecraft. The only problem was how Samba was going to get inside? Should he go down to investigate, he’d notice a holographic screen hovering near the ship’s front. Electronic text scrolled across its surface. It read: To those who are interested in joining the Galactic Patrol or receiving martial arts lessons, don’t be afraid to come inside the ship and meet me personally. I’m currently training in the ship’s gravity simulation room; follow the maps located throughout the ship to find it. Samba shouldn’t have too much trouble locating the gravity chamber, unless he was illiterate or mentally slow. The ship’s entrance would slide open once Samba approached it, and he’d be granted full access to the ship’s interior. Everything inside the spacecraft looked pristine and brand, spanking new. It was obvious that the ship’s cost was up there on the price chart; hell – the ship was so well-equipped and designed that it was entirely possible for a large group of people to consider it their mobile home. By following the helpful, informative maps and signs scattered throughout the ship’s hallways, Samba would be able to eventually locate the ship’s artificial gravity training room. Or, he could just follow Beryl’s ki signature – the closer Samba got, the stronger it would get. The gravity training room in question had two large windows that looked into the chamber – one on each side of the tough, scanner-protected electronic door. The gravity chamber was surprisingly large and spacious; most of that was because the actual gravity machine was located in a separate room, connected to the main training room through a sleek, computer console. In the room’s center was a dark-skinned human with a bright-yellow beanie, a simple long-sleeved t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, gray sweatpants and black sneakers. He looked to be training furiously, throwing punches so quickly and from such odd angles, it looked like he was a character from an over-the-top fighting video game. If Samba continued to watch, he’d notice that the conditions the stranger was training under were rather extreme. A holographic screen above the gravity chamber’s entrance relayed the chamber’s current gravity in bright, neon letters. Current Gravity: x150 Normal Gravity. After a few moments, the stranger stopped his training. He turned towards the room’s entrance, more than likely spotting Samba peering at him through the window. He jumped in surprise, clearly spooked. Hurriedly, he jogged over towards the computer console, typed in a quick string of commands and disengaged the machine’s gravity settings. Quickly, the room’s gravity shifted back to normal, thus allowing Samba to enter without worrying about getting crushed into a gory paste by the unrealistically high gravity. Beryl then jogged towards the training room’s entrance. The door opened with a mechanical whirr. With widened dark-brown eyes, the much shorter Beryl looked up towards Samba – very obviously noting the wolf’s intimidating appearance. “… Can I help you?”PL -- 206,899; Spiritual Insight (x16P): 3,310,384Samba
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Post by Samba on Mar 26, 2016 0:19:40 GMT
"Hm!?" Samba stopped sending his Ki out like a homing beacon when his senses finally found a powerful Ki signature, and his eyes widened at the clear sheer difference between his power level and this person's power level. It was so vast that trying if someone were to compare the two of them together it would be like comparing an ant with a freaking whale. "This energy..." Samba paled slightly as he tried to put a number to this being's power, a bead of sweat slid down the side of his face as he realized that it might be over the thousand hundred. "Perhaps even the millions, it is so vast. How did I miss it!?" It almost felt like a hit against his pride, his Ki Sensing wasn't the most top-notch across the side of the earth but he at least prided in his sense to locate a strong energy without much trouble unless they were masking their Ki to almost nothing. "Could this be... Master Beryl's energy?" Samba once more acknowledged and toyed with the fact that this Beryl character could probably punch him from the Earth to all the way to the moon without breaking a sweat. He wisely decided to perhaps not antagonize this person and never get on their bad side. He cautiously approached where the energy clearly radiated from and blinked down at the hill's base where a massive ship lay, it looked modern and very techy in its shape. Not to mention large and durable to host an entire fleet of people without a strain. So the Ki Signature was coming from deep withing the spacecraft since Core said that Master Beryl normally hung around here and had a spaceship he hazarded a guess that this spaceship belonged to Beryl. He cautiously flew down and approached what seemed to be the front of the ship, his brow quirking upward when he noticed some sort of futuristic-ish screen floating nearby, he blinked as he finally noticed the text that was scrolling across its surface. And made an 'o' face when he finished reading the message that it kept scrolling in an eternal loop, so he was right, this ship belonged to the person he was searching for and was waiting inside for those that wanted to join this little party club. He finally touched the ground and walked toward the ship's entrance, flinching slightly when the entrance slid open without someone having done anything, at least now he could enter the ship without smashing open an entrance or whatever, so that was nice. His nervous gaze looked everywhere at once when he finally touched the inside of the ship, he was afraid that his mere presence was dirtying the pristine and clean interior of the ship, but quickly brushed that thought out of his mind, this place probably had some sort of futuristic and automatic cleaning system for all he knew. He followed the convenient but at the same time useful signs and maps across the hallways of the ship, not to mention the very obvious Ki Signature blazing from within, and soon enough he stood across the artificial gravity chamber, or so, at least, the plaque above the room said it was named after. He watched through the large windows that overlooked the inside of the chamber, the first thing he noticed was how spacious the chamber was, likely enough to have a few people train inside without it being packed at all. There was also one of those geeky computers that he sometimes saw in various place around Satan City though this seemed to be of a brand new model and very sleek looking, not that he knew anything about computers or whatever to make a good estimate. Though his attention was soon centered on the being that stood inside the room, he noted that Beryl was a dark-skinned human dressed casually and for easy of movement, though in his opinion. the yellow beanie that the male wore makes him look adorable and harmless though the very present energy that the male radiated quickly pushed away that fact. His jaw opened slightly in awe as the male's punches were mere blurs, his eyes couldn't even keep up with how fast he was fighting against a seemingly invincible enemy. He wondered what was so different about this chamber that it was made specifically for training, the words Gravity Chamber finally clicked in his mind and he gazed at the door's entrance when he caught something in his peripheral vision, and his jaw hit somewhere on the floor at what he read. Holy shit, his possible new boss was a complete beast if he trained in such conditions! He didn't even wanna know how tough and powerful such a strain a gravity of that magnitude could be, and his boss was throwing those punches like the gravity wasn't even phasing him! And he was human?! That day Samba became more thankful, or rather prideful, that a human could reach such though conditions and become so powerful. He wanted to be like that, he longed to be as powerful as that one day, perhaps if he asked nicely and wagged his tail, Master Beryl would train him and help him become strong? Who knows, it was worth a shot, and if the male said no then he would prove it to him that he got what it took to become his apprentice. It seemed that the training was drawing to a close for the human in the room, as he stopped throwing those extremely fast punches and took a look at the windows that looked into the room, possibly feeling Samba's presence if he had to guess, and Samba gave a cheerful wave to the human even as he jumped in clear surprise from having someone watching him train. He watched as the male turned the computer off and jogged toward the entrance of the Gravity Chamber, and finally they stood face to muzzle. Samba's green eyes locked with those dark brown eyes, and he looked down at the human with a widening smile on his face, he could feel his tail wagging behind him but he could care less about that or the attempt to appear tough in front of his new possible boss. Samba nodded respectfully at the male and finally spoke after a silent beat. "Yes, you can help me. But first, let me introduce myself. My name is Samba, and I heard very good things about you, Master Beryl." Samba went for the title that Core gave the human, besides if the male wanted to be called anything else he'd happily do so. "The Arcosian named Core spoke about you and the Galatic Patrol, he told he how you trained him to be so strong, and naturally I get curious about you and your organization, and..." Samba suddenly trailed off, embarrassment suddenly taking over and making him look aside for a second, and if one looked closely they would perhaps spot the darker patch of brown fur across his cheek signifying that he was blushing. "And I was wondering if you wouldn't mind if I joined the Galatic Patrol." Almost too quickly he turned toward Beryl with determined eyes. "I'll take any challenge that you set before me if that's what it takes to enter the Galatic Patrol!"Beryl Roarke
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Mar 26, 2016 17:37:35 GMT
The first thing he noticed was how tall Samba was. It seemed as if everyone Beryl was running into were giants, and Samba was no exception. Standing over half a foot taller than Beryl (eight inches taller to be exact), the Zoanthrope’s shadow swallowed up Beryl’s entirety. His vibrant green eyes drilled holes into Beryl’s soul and as soon as the fangy smile slid across Samba’s furry face, Beryl looked about ready to scream. All those sharp, white teeth – teeth designed to tear and rend flesh, and Beryl could nearly see all of them in Samba’s mouth. Any moment now, Beryl expected for Samba to pounce forward, pinning him to the ground and begin tearing him apart with his fangs and claws. However, that’s not what happened. Instead, that’s not what happened. Samba introduced himself and even referred to Beryl as “Master Beryl.” “Master?” Beryl repeated, blinking in confusion. He wasn’t exactly a martial arts master – one who possessed a school or some other – so he wasn’t exactly sure who or what gave him the title. Once Samba explained further, the whole “Master” deal started to become clear. Apparently, Samba knew Core, and Beryl was serving as Core’s martial arts teacher. That was probably where the “Master” title came from. The entire time that Samba spoke, Beryl was completely silent. Hell – Beryl didn’t even blink, too afraid that if he did so, then Samba would jump on him. Plus, Samba’s blushing confused Beryl even more; just what was he blushing about anyways? Only after Samba finished speaking did Beryl finally say something. “… Well. Um, it’s very nice to meet you, Samba,” Beryl responded, doing his best to remain calm and composed. However, the expression in his eyes made it obvious that he was still screaming internally. “But yes – I’m Beryl and I am teaching Core a few things. I’m not a master though; I’m just doing it to help him out. A lot of people have been requesting lessons from me lately. I’m actually surprised about it; I figured they’d go find someone who’s better.” With that, Beryl stepped out into the hallway; the gravity training room’s door closed behind him after he pressed a button near the door’s edge. “I’m glad to hear that you’re interested in the Galactic Patrol. However, as you probably already know, the Galactic Patrol is a small, elite force; w-we don’t accept just anybody even if they do have the desire to join.” There was a pause. “But I’m willing to give you a chance to show me why you’d be a good fit. F-Follow me please.”Beryl motioned for Samba to follow him. He’d lead the Zoan out of the ship and out into the open hilly field his ship was parked on. There was plenty of room for the two of them to move and since they were out in the middle of nowhere, collateral damage wasn’t a worry. Well, so long as nothing damaged Beryl’s ship. “I’ll find out more about why you want to join the Galactic Patrol later. Plus, something’s telling me that you want something more than just joining the Galactic Patrol.” It was a guess – one that Beryl based on the kind of vibe he was getting from Samba. “But first – I want to see your skills. Are you alright with a quick spar?” Beryl walked a few paces away from Samba before stopping. “I want you to use everything and anything available to you. Don’t hold back; if the spar gets too out of hand, then we’ll call it. Deal?”The Galactic Patrol leader then slipped into a very basic, simple fighting stance – one used by left-handed boxers. Beryl wasn’t sure if Samba was suppressing his power or not, so he decided not to suppress his own until he got an accurate assessment of Samba’s strength. Who knew? Maybe Beryl would be able to go all-out. PL -- 206,899; Spiritual Insight (x16P): 3,310,384Samba
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Post by Samba on Mar 26, 2016 22:31:41 GMT
Samba's tail swung slowly to and fro as Master Beryl, or rather just Beryl as he soon learned, explained about how Core knew about him and how some other people have been requesting to be trained under his wing. Though for some reason throughout the whole speech the male's eyes seemed to be... afraid? Perhaps alarmed? They seemed to be... it seemed silly to think such a thing but the expression that danced across those dark-brown eyes made it seem like Beryl was screaming internally. He wondered what frightened the male to be in such a state, perhaps he received some news or another before he came along? Or perhaps he was training hard because an intergalactic being challenged him to a fight!? That would certainly make anyone afraid for their lives, but when he sensed Beryl's Ki washing over him once more he send a silent prayer for anyone foolish enough to challenge the human male. In a corner of his mind, the male toyed with the idea that Beryl might be afraid because of him -him, of all people!- and almost wanted to laugh aloud at the absurd notion. Nah, that couldn't be, right? Before he could entertain the thought any longer, Beryl took a few steps away out of the entrance of the Gravity Chamber and closed the door behind him as he addressed him. "I heard about that, yes." Samba nodded his head and followed Beryl's heels. "I'm just glad that you even allowed me the chance to prove myself at all. I was afraid that you'd just laugh me out of the building..." Samba trailed off while looking aside, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head as he realized that he might have judged Beryl a bit too early to have been thinking that. The male seemed approachable and kind, as far as he could see, and not to mention strong enough to be considered a good leader in that aspect. He didn't seem to be cruel or cold, or that he would abuse his position on the Galactic Patrol as far as he could tell. Finally, they left the ship after a few twist and turns and stood outside and into an open field. He looked around the surrounding area, noting that it was large enough to move and not worry about anyone bothering them if they destroyed anything, well besides perhaps the ship but he'd do his utmost best to not scratch the paint job. He turned toward the male, unable to hide a wince as the male saw right through him, indeed he had another reason to join the Galatic Patrol, but he didn't want to bother the male with his dreams or illusions of hopes. Hopefully, if the male still remembered to ask him about that he'd have an answer ready to give him. But something told him that he'd forget about the wholly prepared speech when the nervousness set it. But then Beryl asked for a show spar, to show the man what he was made of, and who couldn't refuse such an offer? "I wouldn't mind sparring with you, in fact, it's an honor." The only thing he was nervous about was that Beryl's power level far surpass his own, so he was afraid that with a mere punch from the male that he would be send flying about a thousand miles into the distance, and that was without the chance of just becoming a bloody splatter across the ship's exterior. He shivered at the morbid thought that crossed his mind and quickly shook his head to get rid of it. The male thought about taking his weights off, since Beryl did say that he wanted to see his full power, to not hold back and use all the means available to him after all, but after a bit of thinking he decided against it, if Beryl actually wanted to see his full power then he'd gladly do so, but until then he'd keep them off for as long as he could, after all, they were perfect training material. The Wolf Zoanthrope watched the Galactic Patrol leader slip into a stance, and soon enough he did the same. He kept his stance low, rolling his shoulders slightly, looking like he was ready to pounce and tear everything to shreds with his claws and teeth. He narrowed his eyes at the male, trying to see if he could spot any sort of opening or weak spots in his defense, but was disappointed and excited when he found nothing of the sort as far as his eyes could see. Seeing as he would be the first to make a move, Samba decided to start with the basics, which was using his Ki to rain down on Beryl a small barrage of Ki blasts, his aim was to distract the male with the blasts so he could get in quick and deliver a haymaker followed by a claw swipe at Beryl's chest. Beryl Roarke
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Mar 27, 2016 19:30:15 GMT
Beryl expected that Samba would be incredibly eager to spar and judging from the Zoanthrope’s fighting stance, he was ready to fuck Beryl up. It looked to be a blend between ancient martial arts and bestial instinct – one that still abided by traditional martial arts principles but allowed Samba to use his animal qualities, traits and strengths fully. There was a brief period of silence, and just seeing Samba stare at him with those spooky, vibrant-green eyes was making Beryl uneasy. Finally, Samba attacked. It was a ki barrage, an attack specifically designed to put ranged pressure on a target. Even as the hot blasts converged upon him, Beryl remained perfectly still, dark-brown eyes trained on the incoming projectiles. As soon as the blasts were about to crash upon him, he attacked. His fists flew, becoming mere blurs as he proceeded to smash each individual ki blast into a spray of harmless, pretty particles. Beryl noted the Zoanthrope’s power level, gauging to see if it was at its maximum or if Samba was suppressing it. Judging by how his power level didn’t spike upwards after launching that ki barrage, Beryl could confirm that Samba was using the full extent of his power – well, the power that he could willingly tap into. As Samba charged, Beryl noted the wolf’s speed. He was pretty damn fast – especially considering how he had those heavy weights worn underneath his clothing as well. Beryl’s power dropped tremendously; Samba would feel it, and it continued lowering until it was nearly equal with Samba’s power. Beryl was certain to account for the heavy weights. Like his spar with Gnash, he didn’t want the Zoanthrope to lose out on the immense gains training with heavy weights granted. The haymaker hit nothing but open air as Beryl side-stepped out of the way in a quick yet simple movement. However, the claw swipe was unexpected. Widening his eyes in surprise, Beryl brought up his forearms in a guard. Razor-sharp claws raked into the dark-skinned human’s flesh, enough to create visible though shallow cuts. "MMPH." The cuts oozed red, and Beryl furrowed his brow in pain. Samba was playing around, and it was only fair that Beryl didn’t either. In a lightning-fast movement, Beryl swung a left-handed punch right for Samba’s face. However, he purposefully missed; it wasn’t his intention to hit Samba. But rather to see how Samba reacted to his full extent of his strength. The air physically cracked, and light fissures formed in the ground below. Then, there was a cacophonous boom, and seemingly the entire earth quaked underneath Beryl’s god-like strength. All of this happened from a single punch. Had Samba actually gotten hit by Beryl’s punch, it literally would’ve launched him into orbit. The scariest part was that normally, fighters used their ki in order to enhance the power of their blows. However, in the punch that Beryl just threw, there was no ki in it whatsoever. That could only mean one thing. Beryl performed this feat of seemingly omnipotent power with pure, physical strength alone. Hoping that the missed punch would distract Samba, Beryl quickly pivoted and attempted to drive his right elbow right into Samba’s rock-hard (or flabby) stomach with enough force to send him rolling backwards. Beryl made sure to lower his power back down once he threw the elbow; he wanted to see how Samba handled himself against an equal-level opponent as well. TECH USED:Capsule Breaker [N1] 1,092,426 PL Capsule Breaker, in the simplest terms, is a technique that dramatically increases the concussive power of Beryl's punches. He proposes that if his power is great enough, he can literally launch people into orbit with a single punch. Is that true? It’s probably best if no one finds out for sure. Deals 33% of PL in damage. PL -- Suppressed to 3,000. Then, raised it to 3,310,384 for the purposefully missed Capsule Breaker. Lowered it back to 3,000 afterwards. Samba
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Post by Samba on Mar 27, 2016 22:55:11 GMT
Samba's eyes widened as Beryl dodged that blow, and it looked like the dark-skinned male didn't even tried when he moved away from his punch though he smirked when his blow landed straight and true, leaving visible shallows cuts behind. He blinked at the strange sound that Beryl gave out, though, it sounded like the fact that he got in his guard caught the male quite off guard, so that was a good thing? He hoped it was, perhaps it'd win him some brownie points with the leader of the Galactic Patrol. Though before he could relax in the fact that he got a hit in, Beryl finally made a move of his own, and Samba's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates at what happened next when he moved his head aside to dodge the very fast blow. Samba's sweat bullets, his dark-brown fur paling dramatically as the ground shook and tore apart at the strong blow, and he had to have his ears to almost hid in his scalp to protect his ears from the loud booming noise. And all of this happened because of a single punch!? And judging by what his senses were telling him, there wasn't even any sort of Ki in that punch!? Samba gulped and send a scared and yet awed look at the male, his respect for Beryl rising considerably but he also thanked all the Gods that the punch did not hit him because he was sure that it would have sent him to fucking orbit or something like that. He wondered to himself if he somehow managed to enter the Galatic Patrol, could he do such a feat of strength someday? It seemed impossible, but if Beryl could do it, not to mention as a mere human and not one of those Aliens roaming around, then it shouldn't be that hard, right? Amiss all of this happened he noticed that Beryl's energy dropped quite drastically, and he wondered if the male was taking consideration on his own power level so the match would be a fair one for the both of them. But he couldn't concentrate on that now since Beryl attacked once more, and with fast reflexes born of an instinctual need for survival, Samba's form shimmered and disappeared like a dream, and the male appeared standing behind Beryl, arms spread wide and ready to try something that might be really stupid or really stupidly courageous. He was going to try and get Beryl into a submission hold. "Got you!" Samba quickly closed his arms in an attempt to grab Beryl's middle, and if he was successful he would lift the male from the ground and apply a great amount of pressure in order to have the male submit or tire him out. If the grab was not successful he would quickly twist around and aim to deliver a crushing kick at Beryl's side to push him away. Technique used:[SU1]Afterimage Technique: Afterimage Technique (残像拳 - Zanzōken) is an ability to move so swiftly that an image of the user is left behind. Samba learned this technique in the wilderness to survive against the more quicker predators. This requires 1KP and dodges at a rate of 100% of current PL only.
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Mar 28, 2016 1:52:34 GMT
This wasn’t going according to plan at all. Normally, whenever someone got a glimpse of Beryl’s maximum strength, they were stunned to the point where they were incapable of reacting for a few moments. However, that wasn’t the case for Samba. If anything, the opposite occurred. The giant wolf figured out that if he didn’t want to end up getting punched to some random planet out in the nearby solar system, then he needed to get his ass in gear. He had to stay on the move; the longer he stayed still, the more of a chance he was giving Beryl to pummel him into a bruised, bloody pulp. Since Beryl couldn’t use ki externally, it was difficult to decipher which blows housed that monstrous strength of his. So, for Samba, that meant it would be best if he minimized the amount of times he got hit period. All it would take was one well-placed punch to screw his day up. At least Samba wasn’t just all muscle and good looks. He had a brain up there too. The afterimage caught Beryl off guard. He didn’t expect someone with Samba’s height and muscular stature to be able to move so quickly. Instead of colliding with the Zoanthrope’s trunk, Beryl’s elbow struck nothing but open air. The false image quickly faded, further cementing the fact that Samba was on the move. Before Beryl could so much as guess where the predator had darted off to, he heard a deep, menacing voice rumbling from directly behind him. “Got you!” As soon as Beryl looked around, he was met with the horrifying sight of Samba looming over him, buff-as-hell arms spread wide. Was Samba about to give him a hug? Well, that would’ve been alright, Beryl supposed. Except it wasn’t the type of hug Beryl wanted. The poor human wheezed like a squeaky toy as he was picked up in a bone-crushing bear hug. Okay, maybe Samba wasn’t made of flab at all; it was quite the opposite in fact. The wolf’s body was packed with muscle, hard and tough like fucking steel. Beryl felt like he was a tin can in a trash compactor. His dark-brown eyes widened to the size of full moons, and they stared directly into Samba’s own emerald-green hues. If Beryl didn’t do something soon, then he was either going to pass out or his bones would start to snap. Clutching his dominant, left hand into a tight fist, Beryl reared back as far as he could and sent a hook right for Samba’s stomach, aiming to hit him right above the navel. And Beryl could keep repeating the motion until Samba let go. It felt like he was punching a wall of sheet metal, but Beryl had felt worse pain before. If Samba let him go, Beryl would immediately launch a flurry of well-placed punches, aimed at all parts of the wolf’s body. In a way, Beryl was trying to lock Samba into a bout of high-speed, hand-to-hand combat, and that was one thing that Beryl excelled at. Samba
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Post by Samba on Mar 28, 2016 14:48:00 GMT
Samba was actually surprised that his sudden attack had worked in all honestly, he would have thought that Beryl would have dodged that attack as effortlessly as the last one, he actually had to blink a few seconds to process this fact, but once he realized that he was staring straight into Beryl's dark-brown eyes he quickly got back with the program, and applied a considerable amount of pressure, and almost did a double take at the squeaky toy noise that left the human lips, and in any other circumstance Samba might have dropped the human and laughed his ass off at such a sound.
"Grrr... come on, give up," Samba growled as he applied more pressure but not too much, he didn't want to break the human's spine or cause some really irreversible damage to the male's psyche, he also considered adding a "please" at the end of that sentence but decided against it as fast as the thought came to him.
He watched how those eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and felt a small smirk tug at the corner of his lips, he wondered if he had surprised the male with such a move as the one he made, it was certainly unusual but it was the best counter he could think of when dealing with someone that could cause quite a great amount of damage with their fist.
Only, he forgot to get those arms into a proper hold when he grabbed the male, and thus paid the price for his oversight by almost doubling over in pain as the dark-skinned human attacked his stomach, just above where his abdomen would be, with very strong and fast punches. With every strike, Samba felt his hold weakening and his body give under the constant assault. Finally, his hold could no longer be sustained, and he let go of the male and took a few steps backward, coughing slightly as he tried to get his breathing back against such a barrage of blows.
His stomach felt sore and it ached like he had been doing crunches for the whole day while using heavyweights at the time, not a really pleasant feeling that's for sure. He wasn't really something that would slow him down or stop him from continuing training or from doing something, he had felt worse pain before after all.
But the pain was not over, not by a long shot. Samba's face fell into one of nervousness, showed by how his lips parted to show his teeth slightly as he aimed to block and or direct those blows away from his body, five times out of ten he could block or evade them, but the blows that he didn't push away came with a considerable amount of force, and with every strike the wolf felt his body give away little by little.
Not content to remain like a sitting duck, Samba growled loudly before sending out blows of his own, they weren't as fast as Beryl's but they still were quite fast for the untrained eye or the slower individual, many times he could feel his fist strike against the male, producing slight shockwaves of displaced air when it did, and the only reason he didn't wince in pain at it was because he willed himself to push through it and keep going forward.
Finally having enough the Wolf Zoanthrope cocked his right fist back, feeling how his muscles tensed like a tightly coiled spring and with a roar the male let his fist fly on the male's stomach, and to ensure that it would have the most impact, once it hit the male's stomach he would twist his fist lightly and push outward with a great show of strength, the blow should hopefully be strong enough to send Beryl skidding back a few feet should it connect.
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Mar 29, 2016 0:40:20 GMT
Seeing Samba’s fangy, cocky smirk lit a flame within Beryl’s core. The Zoanthrope actually believed that he had won, that he had Beryl in such a vice-like grip that there was no way in hell that Beryl could break through. Well, the Galactic Patrol leader had a piece of harsh reality for the bipedal canine, and the news started with his fist. The repeated gut punches were enough to get Samba to loosen his grip, enough to the point where Beryl could wiggle free. Taking advantage of the Zoan’s stunned state, Beryl proceeded to assault him with fast, accurate punches. Not all of them managed to connect; Samba managed to either evade or block at least half of Beryl’s punches – a feat that Beryl recognized. Hand-to-hand combat was Beryl’s sole specialty; many people couldn’t hold a candle to him when it came to straight fist-fighting, and here Samba was – managing to not get knocked the hell out right as the spar started. A deep growl rumbled in the wolf’s throat, signifying the beginning of his counter attack. Beryl adjusted accordingly. When Samba’s head-sized fists started flying, Beryl expertly dodged and deflected the punches. He made it look effortless despite the amount of power and speed Samba was pushing into his blows; the sight would possibly be even aggravating to the Zoanthrope as if Beryl was calling him trash without even saying anything. One particular punch from Samba was different from the rest. With a bestial roar, the black-furred canine unleashed a focused strike: a punch directed straight for Beryl’s core. The Galactic Patrol leader’s eyes widened in surprise; he did his best to adjust his guard, hoping that he’d be able to catch the incoming haymaker. However, he was unsuccessful, and the wolf’s fist, which was probably as big or bigger than Beryl’s entire torso, sank into Beryl’s stomach. Beryl gasped in agony; through his eyes, the world flashed black and white for a split second. The punch’s twisting motion added more force behind the blow, more than enough to send Beryl skidding backwards. Beryl slammed his right hand down on the ground, doing his best to slow himself to a halt. Eventually, he did, and he immediately buckled over, gripping his stomach with his left hand. He struggled to breathe, and it felt like someone had dropped a five hundred pound weight on his stomach. Straightening himself up the best he could, Beryl stared at Samba in silent acknowledgement of the Zoan’s strength. Alright, Samba wasn’t a scrub after all. After tapping his foot against the ground, Beryl casually walked forward. He didn’t seem like he was in any rush, and the expression on his face was unreadable – making it very hard to tell what his intentions were. He got about a foot away from Samba and stopped for a split second. Then, he darted forward, left fist darting right towards Samba’s left cheek. Beryl only wanted a grazing blow, but the punch had enough “oomph” behind it to cut and slice, and Samba would get a taste of that firsthand if he were unfortunate enough to be stricken by it. Grass Cutter [N1]990 PL Grass Cutter allows Beryl's physical strikes to deal piercing and cutting damage. It doesn’t matter if the strike is a punch, elbow, headbutt, kick, knee or anything in between; they all cut the same. This technique can allow Beryl to deliver frightening cuts and lacerations; if the blow is powerful enough, he can even lop off limbs or slice people in half with a single punch. This is a messy technique for sure, but it’s quite lethal as well. Deals 33%/66%/100% of PL in damage. Samba
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Post by Samba on Mar 30, 2016 2:31:08 GMT
Every time that Beryl deflected and or evaded his punches so easily, no matter how much he speeded up or how hard he aimed to hit, the male evaded all of them with what seemed to be some sort of condescending ease, like he was calling him trash without even saying it.
That thought, it fueled the flames inside of him, his annoyance was getting the better of him and it was letting the anger cloud his judgement, it wasn't a wonder that when he had thrown that focus punch at the male, it held all of his frustration and anger, and the moment the attack connected with the male's stomach, it was like the damn was released and it hit the man like a freight train, sending him skidding backwards quite a bit and the male had to use his hand to arrest his momentum slightly so he wouldn't be sending against the ground head over heels.
"Hah... hah..." Samba panted strongly as he stared at the slowly recovering human, the previous anger that flickered in his eyes disappeared and left startling clarity behind, and the male paled slightly at how his attack seemed to have done a bit more harm than he had expected. "B-Beryl, are you okay?" Samba fretted as he stared at the male, watching how he struggled to regain his breath and possibly not throw up whatever he had eaten. His ears folded against his head as the male silently stood up and acknowledged him with those eyes, the silence that descended over the battlefield was eerie compared to the previous racket that they were making thus far, and Samba had to hide his wince when the male started to casually walk over to him.
He tried to discern anything from the male's expression, but the blank face that greeted him told him nothing, and so he worried internally. 'Oh Kami above, is he mad? Did I screw up? Oh he's probably gonna tell me to turn around, leave and never come back, goddamnit I shouldn't have hit him that hard, what the hell was I thinking—' Samba blinked at the stinging pain he felt across his cheek, his head instinctively turning slightly to the side as his eyes finally focused on the here and now, and he blinked confusedly at the patch of rock before him.
He felt something trickle down his cheek and making it sticky. Tentatively the male flicked his tongue out, tasting something metallic and immediately he realized that he was bleeding when the scent caught his nose a second later. It seems that whatever Beryl did with that punch managed to cut him and made him bleed, but that should be impossible since the human had no claws to slash and tear with, so that meant... his punch alone was enough to do that?
Samba realized that if Beryl had used his true strength, he might have literally cut his head off, or even a limb off very easily and with no effort at all on his part. The Zoan swallowed at the thought and moved his head back to stare down at the dark-skinned human that stood barely a foot away from him. He stared silently at the man, blinking occasionally as he did so, his tail laying limp and unmoving behind him. His gaze flickered constantly, staring at the male's face, down to his fist, up where his strike had caused quite the effect on Beryl, and back to his face again.
The male shifted his footing, unsure if he should just continue to attack the male or if the fight was already over. "Um..." Samba hedged as he tried to think of something. "Should I just continue to attack you, or..." Samba's brow rose up to his hairline as he trailed off meaningfully. The ballpark was in Beryl's court now, depending on what he'd do it will change Samba's course of action.
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Mar 30, 2016 17:44:41 GMT
Beryl kept his fist near Samba’s cheek. Blood leaked from the shallow cut on the wolf’s face, confirming that Beryl managed to nick him just as planned. Being a pure physical fighter, Beryl had to find ways to add variation to his attacks. So, he managed to figure out how to strike so quickly and with such precision that his punches, elbows and other physical strikes had the ability to slice and cut like a blade. If the strike was powerful enough, it had the potential to lop off limbs, decapitate and even bisect people in half. It was a gruesome, brutal attack that Beryl opted to only use in serious combat situations, particularly ones where his life was on the line. Narrowing his eyes at the Zoan’s stillness, Beryl watched as the feral beast’s tongue slipped out of his fang-filled mouth, only to lap at the blood oozing from the cut on his cheek. Instantly, Beryl’s facial expression went from stoic to disgust. His wrinkled face clearly showed how grossed-out he was; wrinkles formed on his face where wrinkles weren’t even supposed to be. The two awkwardly stared at each other, and once Samba asked if the fight was continuing, Beryl retracted his left fist from Samba’s cheek and allowed it to rest at his side. He stared up at the much taller Zoanthrope, eyelids lowered slightly. “No, the spar’s over,” he announced. “You’re physically strong as I’d expect from someone with your size and stature, but you’re also deceptively fast as well. I’ll be honest; I wasn’t expecting you to be able to move that quickly. I guess that’s part of the reason why you managed to get me with that bear hug of yours.” Taking a few steps back, Beryl suddenly grunted and gripped his stomach with a hand; the bear hug and gut punch from earlier definitely put a hurting on him. Shaking his head, the dark-skinned human looked up. “Plus, you seem to have a good grasp on ki and how to use it. You’re doing a lot better than me in that respect. Let me ask: did you notice something odd about the way I fight? Anything off about my punches or anything?” Beryl just wanted to test how perceptive Samba was in evaluating an opponent’s fighting style. “Either way, you pass the combat exam,” Beryl stated, nodding once. He adjusted his oversized yellow beanie. “Why do you want to join the Galactic Patrol, Samba?” Beryl then asked, curious about the Zoan’s intentions. “Also, is there anything else that you wanted from me specifically?” Beryl had a feeling there was something else on Samba’s mind. Samba
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Post by Samba on Mar 31, 2016 3:10:01 GMT
Samba thankfully had not seen Beryl's 'I just sucked what seemed to be over nine thousand lemon' face when he licked his cheek to test if he had been truly cut by the male's attack. But that theory was already tested out so the male focused on the human before him, blinking languidly as he watched Beryl take a few steps back since they WERE just between a foot of each other just now.
As the male estimated his fighting style and technique, he couldn't help how his tail swung as a result from it, at the mention of a bear hug the Wolf Zoan adopted a sheepish expression as he rubbed the back of his head. Since the spar was over the male let himself relax slightly, his previously tensed muscles loosening and his stance finally shifting so he was at ease.
As he did so the male suddenly grunted as his body throbbed with multiple stinging aches all over where the male's fist hit him. "Damn, even while holding back you hit like a freight train, I'm gonna be sore after this." Samba chuckled despite the pain he was feeling at the moment, besides his Mother told him that a good way to alleviate the pain was to laugh or chuckle, it didn't work seven times out of ten but when it worked it worked like a charm.
Just as he finished that thought the dark-skinned male doubled over and grunted as he held his stomach in what seemed to be in pain, the male zoan's ears splayed backwards as a concerned expression shifted on his features. "I think I might have overdone it with that last attack, though, my apologies." Hopefully, he didn't manage to break something or rupture an organ with that focus punch, he'd like to have the rest of the GP up in arms to get his head on a platter if he somehow managed to kill their leader.
Thankfully Beryl shifted the conversation into more comfortable territory, and the Zoan threw Beryl a searching look before replying. "First of all, though, I hope I didn't bruise you up too badly with that bear hug. And now that you mention it, every time you threw a punch or attacked me it seemed they were...hollow, lacking in that special energy that should always be present no matter what, whenever I concentrated my Ki to try and sense what you were about to do next I would always just received nothing in return except some white noise." Samba's brows furrowed as he tried to put this into words.
"Your punches... even though they don't have any Ki, they still came forth with a marvelous amount of strength behind each and every one of them. So I figured that I wouldn't want to get hit by your attacks, so putting you in a submission hold seemed the safest bet to keep your arms secured and out of reach..." The Zoan snorted softly. "Not that that helped me too much as you'll recall."
Samba felt his lips quirk upward into a wild grin once again, his tail wagging a mile a minute judging by the shifting of air that came from behind him. The male considered going for a double fist-pump into the sky, but Beryl's question stopped him cold. The male suddenly became a bit somber and melancholic as he replied. "Because I realized that what happened back with the invasion might also have happened to another place in the galaxy. And with people like the SSE and Zucceta leading them, not to mention Pin and his own organization roaming around, I figured that I could try and help the world become a better place if I could help it however I could." The male held his fist tightly, his claws almost puncturing the skin.
The male held his fist tightly, his claws almost puncturing the skin. "I just... I don't want to be helpless like last time, I don't want ANYONE to feel that same helplessness that I felt back then. And so once I heard about you, and how you are leading this faction, I knew that I needed to come and see for myself if I had what it took to become a Galatic Patrol member and perhaps... become a charge in your care..."
Looking into Beryl's eyes the male swallowed his hesitation before saying. "That is if you'd have me."
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Mar 31, 2016 21:18:53 GMT
Beryl waved off Samba’s apologies with a hand. “Don’t apologize; you didn’t do anything wrong. You wouldn’t have hit me if you didn’t use all of your strength.” It was a fact. Had Samba not fought with the same intensity and ferocity as he did just now, he wouldn’t have laid a finger on Beryl. It was true that Beryl did suppress his strength to match Samba’s power, but even then, Samba had to use everything and anything available to him in order to prove to the Galactic Patrol leader that he had what it took to be called a Galactic Patrol officer. That wasn’t the only thing though. Samba’s personal reasons for joining the Galactic Patrol were honest, genuine and heartfelt. Beryl listened quietly, sensing the raw emotion permeating from the Zoan’s being as he explained why he was going through all of the trouble of becoming a Galactic Patrol officer. The Saiyan Solar Empire had taken nearly everything away from Samba, except for his will to live and his determination to become stronger. Beryl was lucky to have his mother and father and extended family still alive after the SSE’s invasion of Earth; the SSE had claimed millions upon millions of lives, and the death toll was still going to climb expotentially unless something was done to stop them. The Galactic Patrol was a beacon of hope for the galaxy; however, Beryl couldn’t do it alone. He needed officers like Chili, Gnash, Kaito, Belle, Core, Samba and many others supporting him every step of the way. It was the only way, Beryl believed, for the galaxy to be restored to its balanced and peaceful state. “You’re in, Samba,” Beryl stated suddenly. “Welcome to the Galactic Patrol. I’ll take care of your paperwork and all that, but as of now, you’re officially a Galactic Patrol officer. Congratulations.” Beryl nodded in acknowledgement, pleased with the Zoan’s strength and resolve. “And for your second request, I have no problem teaching you a thing or two. However—“ There was a pause. “Unlike many, I don’t have the ability to use ki externally. That’s why you couldn’t sense any ki within my punches; I wasn’t using any. The most I can do is use it internally, just like any other living thing, but even then – it’s a challenge for me. So, if you were wanting to learn how to blow stuff up better with ki blasts and how to do other fancy ki techniques, I can’t help you there. Still, if that’s alright with you, then I’ll help you out to the best of my ability. You have a lot of potential – enough to surpass me. I hope you realize that.”Beryl then stepped closer towards Samba, head craned upward to look the obviously taller Zoanthrope in the eyes. “You, along with the other Galactic Patrol members, have the potential to be stronger and better than I am. I’ll do my best to help, but it’ll be up to all of you to achieve your final potential yourselves. You can do it, but it’s going to be a lot of hard work, and I’m not being cliché when I say that. I’m certain at some point – you’re going to want to die.” Beryl’s stare intensified. “But, given the vibe I get from you, I don’t think that’ll deter you one bit. Am I right?” The stare relaxed. “Whenever you’re ready to train, let me know. Oh – two things. First, who is Pin? Second—“Beryl lowered his eyelids. “Try not to do that weird face licking thing, alright?” Samba
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Post by Samba on Apr 1, 2016 3:10:45 GMT
Samba considered Beryl's admonishment, and couldn't help but agree with it. If he had not fought with his all, he wouldn't have even put a scratch on Beryl, the fact that Beryl had set his power level accordingly so the match was even for both sides was also taken into account. Otherwise, the match would have been over before it could have even started, him probably being just a red smear across the ship's surface or perhaps planted six feet under the full moon. After he had poured out his heart to the man the Zoan chose to stay silent as Beryl made his judgment now that all the cards, sort of, were finally laid on the table. He hoped that the male didn't saw his reasoning as something childish or very naive way to think of. He really wanted to stop any sort of evil like the SSE from causing destruction in their wake, and he knew that the job would be very dangerous and hard, considering that the galaxy was a very vast place filled with millions of thousand of characters all around. But the Zoan was determined and steadfast in his decision to enter this team and help them protect the galaxy from criminals. The tall Wolf Zoanthrope finally breathed a sigh of relief, unaware that through all of Beryl's inner musing he had been holding his breath as he waited for the man's verdict. Samba's smile almost splits his cheeks since it was so wide, and the male's tail almost broke into match speed 2 at how fast it was wagging. No longer containing the need the male did a double fist bump towards the sky. "Yes! I'm in, baby! Hell yeah!" Samba finally realized that he was making a complete and total fool of himself in front of his own boss and hastily made to stand up straight and bow slightly towards Beryl. "You have no idea how much this means to me." He said, the words true and heartfelt and easily discerned should the male heard his voice. He straightened back up and listened silently as Beryl explained how different, and not to mention arduous, training under his wing would be, but the thought of finally having someone willing to teach him something only made him that much more persistent to do this. "I don't mind at all, I still remember many of my family and village's techniques to keep myself busy as I learn them. And besides, attacking someone with nothing but pure if augmented by Ki, psychical strength sounds awesome! I'd love to have the strength enough to literally punch my enemies into another galaxy far away."The fact that Beryl even thought that he might be able to surpass him one day just made him more giddy to actually go and accomplish that. He wondered if someday he'd be able to reach Beryl's strength and ask for a real fight, no Ki blasts or tricks, just their fists flying all over the place in a test of wills. That day was a long way off but if he trained hard enough and was determined he didn't see any reason that he wouldn't catch up to Beryl's strength some day. The thought was already making him giddy with the anticipation of a fight for the ages. He blinked down at the male, watching him get near and look up at him since the size difference was quite a bit apparent if you put them side by side. By the end of Beryl's speech, the male was ready to do another fist bump again. "No worries, Beryl! I won't back down or run away from any challenge that you set before me!" If there was one thing that Beryl could, at least, link Samba to was that he was certainly full of energy. Though the weird request that he gave made him a bit confused, the Zoan tilting his head to the side in the typical show of canine confusion. "Um, sure? And in any case, Pin is an Android as far as I gather, I only managed to met two so far, one Doctor Breech Arias and this Pin character. And let me tell you, both weren't exactly pleasant at all. I had to fight Breech and his small robot minions with two Saiyans as reluctant allies before they could lay waste to some part of Satan City, and Pin literally put a small bounty on my head and told the candidates that the first one to take my down would get a higher position."Samba finally stopped speaking for a second, but only because he was grumbling lowly to himself at the Android's gall to use him as some sort of guinea pig or whatever. "The bounty was 200 Zenni by the way, he did that because I refused to take part in his mercenary organization of his, nevermind that once I realized that he was from the SSE with the insignia he has on his person I did not want anything to do with him. So far I counted about three or so possible new recruits for his faction before I lost consciousness. One was an Arcosian, mostly green and very sure of himself as far as I recall. The other was a Saiyan with the typical 'holier than thou' attitude and the normal black hair coloration. And the last one..." There was a pause as Samba tried to work around how to best explain this, after a few silent seconds the male gave out a deep sigh before saying. "Beryl, listen. The last one is a friend of mine, and I think of her as a sister of sorts. She— She's just so young, younger than I, not even a teenager yet and she's joining this organization without knowing the things she'd need to do!" Samba fretted as he started to pace back and from in front of the dark-skinned man. "She was about to tell me about this Pin character before we were interrupted. I don't know what kind of relationship do they got with each other, but I know that Kay-El, my friend's name, really wanted to be with Pin for some reason or another so before anyone could reach she knocked me unconscious by..." The male blushed in slight mortification before saying. "By her singing a melody, it must be a technique of hers, some sort of stun."Samba growled as he scratched his head sharply. "It really annoys me that Pin could very well be forcing her to do something that might break her! It's maddening!"Beryl Roarke
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