Zucceta
Administrator
PL: 379,083
Oozaru(x10) MSSj(x15) S.Ooz(x22) SSj2(25x)
Zeni: 2290
Tag: @admin
OOC Name: therevolution
Posts: 2,309
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Post by Zucceta on Jan 7, 2014 12:28:09 GMT
A figure in a brown cloak stands at the edge of a small desert settlement. Red dust blows in the wind, the ends of his cloak rippling. He lowers the hood, revealing a head of spiky brown hair, and a pure white bandana that seemed to move with liquid fluidity and repel the desert sand. His blue boots, worn down by months of travel, lead him to the local bar. The sun was just setting, the cold wind piercing the traveller's robes; he needed a place to stay, and soon, or he would be spending another night out in the lonely wilderness. He pushes the hood back up.
The wooden structure was warm and comfortable, a low flame crackling in a stone masonry fireplace. Shadows dance and jive under the half-saiyan's hood. But, despite the homeliness of the place, the bar was all but empty for the solemn old man tending the bar. He looked up, surprised to see a customer at this time. His look of surprise turned to one of fear. "You should not be here, sir. This is only a town for the dead now." He anxiously glances to the door, seeing if anyone had followed him.
A quizzical eyebrow would be raised beneath the brown hood, the young warrior intrigued by this response. It was true, the town had seemed quiet, far too quiet for early evening. He had expected to at least see some youths on the streets, or clothes hanging from lines in the windows. What was happening here?
"Tell me what you know, then, tavernkeeper. I will have food, and an ale, and information."
There were two clans in the small town of Sanjuro, where once upon a time there was but one. The clan, a criminal gang that ran gambling rings, was split in two when the the head of the original clan, Seibei, decided that upon his death leadership of the clan would go to his son, Yoichiro. His right hand man, Ushitora, had disagreed with this ruling, desiring the place himself, and had thus left with many members of the original clan to form his own gang, setting up at the opposite end of the settlement.
And, regularly the two gangs would throw themselves at each other. Due to the constant fighting in the streets, all business had died in the town.
"And that's why you should leave," Gonji finishes.
The hooded figure takes the last sip of his ale, draining away the last of the bitter drink. Placing the glass back down 'pon the counter with a sharp rattle, the hooded figure smiles a mischievous grin. "My man, to me it sounds as if the town would be better off with these gangs dead."
Gonji's eyes widen. "You can't be serious! There are many more of them than you, sir, and each of them deadly!"
The warrior stands and tugs down his hood. Bright green eyes twinkle with youthful confidence. "I'll be fine, sir. Thank you for the meal, and your hospitality."
As he slipped away, the tavern-keeper screamed: "Foolish boy!"
The tavern, as it turns out, was situated just about in the centre of the town. From there, the distance to each rival clan was equal. And so Akio took to the right, for no particular reason - just that he was right-handed. No matter which gang he dealt with first, it didn't matter so long as the end result was the same.
The elimination of both gangs.
They appeared as soon as Akio had passed far enough. The door slams open, and a group of raucous men scramble from the light within. Many had weapons such as katanas and axes, others wore metal over their fists and the rest simply balled their hands into fists. And still they spilled out of the building, each of them talking loudly and abrasively, many of them far too drunk to possibly think about having a fight. They spill out, forming a crude circle around the young martial warrior, each one sizing up our protagonist with cold, calculating eyes... they couldn't possibly realise his true potential by merely looking at his body, however.
"What brings you to the Ushitora clan, traveller?" One of the men, taller than the rest and with an impressive scar trailing down his face and into an open-chested shirt, hisses.
"Pest eradication," Akio chuckles, before pulling himself into a loose defensive stance. He could already tell it was all he needed to do. "You're all tough, then?" He muses, voice potent with sarcasm.
"What?!" The giant of a man sneers, glancing around at his colleagues. "Kill us if you can!"
"It'll hurt."
And, from then on is a fluidity of motion that one could almost describe as a dance.
The large man swings his axe, his muscles popping as he releases a guttural roar, but Akio was already gone, the weapon merely crashing and splintering the wooden tiles on the floor. Akio moved through the legion of thugs like a furious lightning bolt. He slams one fist into the neck of a stubby warrior holding a sword far too big for him, causing the man to crumple into a gibbering heap: and as he sailed forwards, he grabbed hold of another gambler's collar and slammed him into the floor, embedding his face into the wood.
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Zucceta
Administrator
PL: 379,083
Oozaru(x10) MSSj(x15) S.Ooz(x22) SSj2(25x)
Zeni: 2290
Tag: @admin
OOC Name: therevolution
Posts: 2,309
|
Post by Zucceta on Jan 8, 2014 16:23:14 GMT
(sorry mate, was intending this to be a solo, just haven't finished it xP if you want to join my other one that'd be fun though)
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