Post by Kiryu on Oct 7, 2019 22:47:43 GMT -8
I can't stand it, I know you planned it
I'mma set it straight, this Watergate
I can't stand rockin' when I'm in here
'Cause your crystal ball ain't so crystal clear
So while you sit back and wonder why
I got this fuckin' thorn in my side
Oh my god, it's a mirage
I'm tellin' y'all, it's sabotage
As it had so often lately, the sound system in his custom, prototype motorcycle blasted out music from Kiryu's playlist. The thundering bass crashed through him, and in response he opened the throttle all the way, a massive dust trail filling the sky and marking his passage. His blood roared through his ears, and as never before in his life, he found himself in the grip of blinding, consuming, all encompassing rage.
It was well for him that his objective was not close by, because if he faced anyone in combat, on this night, he may have abandoned his own code and not held anything back from his opponent. He may have used his facility with ki to send blasts of energy that did not merely disable his foes, but blew holes the size of fists through them. He may have used his supernatural strength to stave in breast bones and shatter spines and snap necks and rend and tear and destroy. Kiryu may have used his preternatural skill with pressure points to rob his victims of the ability to breathe, or cause their organs to rupture and their hearts to explode in their chest.
Kiryu would be sorely tempted to kill each and every single one of the low life scum bags that he came across.
Kiryu's journey lately had been one of revelation, reflection and growth. Ever since he had left home, nearly every day had brought something new. From his duel in the deep desert with the Cobra Master, Caffey, to his delving of ancient ruins with a Namekian more powerful than anyone he'd ever met, to the massive group combat between Bass and a team of Kiryu, his new ally AHri and the martial arts fanboy Duke Luciferus Satan, it had been a wild ride. Nothing, however, had been more emotionally affecting to Kiryu than his rescue of his friends from the Desert Demons. He had gone to save his friends, and he fought many men to do so. He had not killed them... but neither had he saved them. The robot, Zero, that had come across Kiryu while he was attending to his mission, had ended their lives with a sort of cold, ruthless efficiency backed up by relentless logic. She showed Kiryu just how fragile normal people were, as she tore through their foes iwth a brutality alien in it's lack of rancor.
That was when Kiryu had started to question himself.
He believed in the Path of Joy, in his decision to preserve life if the choice was his... and yet he was now confronted with the fact that there were people that he had trouble believing were worth saving. And he had to live with the fact that he had let men die, and forever ended their Paths.
He had done so, and moved on... or, at least, he thought he had.
That was when he got the news. He had been planning on returning home, but in Manitou, one of the villages, the chieftain had recognized him. Had heard of his strength, heard that Kiryu was a man of the people. He told him, then. Of the bandits that had come, demanding tribute. Of their refusal. Of how the bandits crept in at night and killed some of Manitou's guards and took his daughter.
About the demands they had made and the terrible cost their refusal would inflict on the girl.
The chieftain did not even have to ask Kiryu for his assistance. That morning, Kiryu was on his motorcycle, a vengeful arrow aimed straight at the heart of the wicked that thought they could dominate the innocent.
And as music thundered through his bones, as bloodlust and righteous anger and the desire to purge evil for all time thrilled through him, Kiryu prayed that, when the time came, he would remember himself and the path he was walking soon enough not to betray everything he stood for.
[WC=716]
It was well for him that his objective was not close by, because if he faced anyone in combat, on this night, he may have abandoned his own code and not held anything back from his opponent. He may have used his facility with ki to send blasts of energy that did not merely disable his foes, but blew holes the size of fists through them. He may have used his supernatural strength to stave in breast bones and shatter spines and snap necks and rend and tear and destroy. Kiryu may have used his preternatural skill with pressure points to rob his victims of the ability to breathe, or cause their organs to rupture and their hearts to explode in their chest.
Kiryu would be sorely tempted to kill each and every single one of the low life scum bags that he came across.
Kiryu's journey lately had been one of revelation, reflection and growth. Ever since he had left home, nearly every day had brought something new. From his duel in the deep desert with the Cobra Master, Caffey, to his delving of ancient ruins with a Namekian more powerful than anyone he'd ever met, to the massive group combat between Bass and a team of Kiryu, his new ally AHri and the martial arts fanboy Duke Luciferus Satan, it had been a wild ride. Nothing, however, had been more emotionally affecting to Kiryu than his rescue of his friends from the Desert Demons. He had gone to save his friends, and he fought many men to do so. He had not killed them... but neither had he saved them. The robot, Zero, that had come across Kiryu while he was attending to his mission, had ended their lives with a sort of cold, ruthless efficiency backed up by relentless logic. She showed Kiryu just how fragile normal people were, as she tore through their foes iwth a brutality alien in it's lack of rancor.
That was when Kiryu had started to question himself.
He believed in the Path of Joy, in his decision to preserve life if the choice was his... and yet he was now confronted with the fact that there were people that he had trouble believing were worth saving. And he had to live with the fact that he had let men die, and forever ended their Paths.
He had done so, and moved on... or, at least, he thought he had.
That was when he got the news. He had been planning on returning home, but in Manitou, one of the villages, the chieftain had recognized him. Had heard of his strength, heard that Kiryu was a man of the people. He told him, then. Of the bandits that had come, demanding tribute. Of their refusal. Of how the bandits crept in at night and killed some of Manitou's guards and took his daughter.
About the demands they had made and the terrible cost their refusal would inflict on the girl.
The chieftain did not even have to ask Kiryu for his assistance. That morning, Kiryu was on his motorcycle, a vengeful arrow aimed straight at the heart of the wicked that thought they could dominate the innocent.
And as music thundered through his bones, as bloodlust and righteous anger and the desire to purge evil for all time thrilled through him, Kiryu prayed that, when the time came, he would remember himself and the path he was walking soon enough not to betray everything he stood for.
[WC=716]