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Post by Cayle Pota on Oct 10, 2020 19:11:30 GMT -8
Many Saiyans might roll their eyes at the mere thought of construction being good physical training for the martial arts and increasing their personal power, but Cayle was not many Saiyans. He had seen plenty of the 'greatest martial arts movies' out there, and was well aware of the almost stereotypical training styles of the Turtle School. Cayle had despite this stereotype in movie and real life about the school lauded it as a good idea, but when Carlos Alfonso de la Reyes, Friddar, and the Taco King cooks who had been watching it with him had laughed at Cayle's suggestion it was a good idea for even a Saiyan, when he explained himself further they stopped.
For the Saiyan it wasn't about the strength training, not really. It was about the endurance to work on it as long as possible and to contain your strength to do things with precision. Like anything worth while, building wasn't about just the strength it gave you from moving things or using tools. It was about the precision – Cayle made his point by pointing out that their training method for Saiyans in the kitchen had went well and that most cooks were stronger than average humans despite not constantly physically training.
When Cayle removed the scouter which he had with him since he had begun his adventure freely on Earth and used it to illustrate that of all the cooks, Carlos Alfonso, rotund and jolly hearted as he was was the strongest – with a suprising power level of 51. An increase of over 40 power level from the time he had first met Cayle and the Saiyans.
Out of the kitchen and to the matter at hand, Cayle Pota found himself doing a bit of guerrilla construction on the coastal and cliffside lands which he co-owned with Tiger Lily and Achido Nakamura. It wasn't an add-on to the building, or a training facility – it would be redundant to do that, there were training facilities back on Ensalada Island which were far better than any he built on this location, with better grub and with more people to train with.
He was simply building a classical metal riveted tower to use to build a radio receiver and transmitter and a secondary radio station for the station they had been building on Ensalada Island, as well as a set up to allow for secure communications between the island nation and this technical outpost of the Ensalada Kingdom.
So with every application of slight pressure to the steel alloy frame of the tower, every tightening of rivets or bolts and every use of his spiritual energy to form a minute and controlled blast of energy to simulate the heat of a welder, every fastening of ties to keep cords running from the power generators both outside of the receiver and upon it, even the tightening of the bolts on the windmill blades which he was using to help the breeze provide power to the receiver along with the solar panels, wave generators, and batteries which powered the Sapling Treehouse and the Ranch around It- with every action he was doing, he was actually training his strength and his control of it.
There was no point of being able to stop a speeding car with one palm if you couldn't hold a flower in your hand without crushing it to paste. It was all a matter of bettering yourself and building, he thought to himself as he finally finished the project and the guerrilla radio waves of the station began to pick up the island beats of G-RDN, 'The Garden', Ensalada Island's own personal radio station, which was operated by the hands of the energetic former Saiyan peasant who was now the first Saiyan on Ensalada to be a DJ Dee-Ell-Pee-Kay, who in his off time was called by his given name. Dill son of Stew.
The small orange radio that the Saiyan had brought from the shed just for this purpose suddenly transformed into musical rhythms where static had been before. Some Saiyans thought the use of technology was likened to playing with the devil. Tuffles relied immensely on Technology after all.
Cayle wasn't some Saiyans, either. As the illegally broadcasting radio station began to invade Pilaf Land's air waves, the former farm boy smirked and enjoyed the music before calling in a delivery order of Eastern Lands style fried noodles and orange chicken.
[741]
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Post by Will O. Wisp on Oct 15, 2020 18:01:44 GMT -8
Having recently dealt with an attempted alien invasion from a group of rabbit like aliens, and all of the other weird happenings that happened before that. Of course Will would be patrolling around Pilaf Land in the air with Flying Nimbus to make sure nothing else untoward happens. After facing a giant parasitic mushroom and an evil version of himself from another dimension nothing really surprises him anymore. He starts to wonder if any of his accomplishments back in his prime were this odd, it's hard to say cause all of his memories are not fully there yet, not quite total amnesia more so he can only vaguely remember some bits and pieces but the rest he knows like the back of his paws. Being in a coma for a while after receiving massive head trauma will do that to you it seems. Or it could be a by product of his old age. Then he began to hear weird noises, and started to feel a low Ki signature nearby, it felt familiar but albeit really small. Flying in for a closer look he goes to see some structure being built. Watching someone constructing something. Will had his power suppressed as well so it seems they haven't noticed him while they are busy working. It was hard for Will to tell who it was as he kept his distance, but as far he could tell it didn't seem some kind of doomsday weapon. He watched as they continued on until they were finished with a full on radio tower. Doesn't seem to be anything wrong with a radio tower, unless it is a radio tower spewing out propaganda from some evil organization or mind control soundwaves. The fact that Will thought of those things being a possibility shows he has been here in this land for too long. Stealthily making his way to get a closer look he goes to see that the person who built this radio tower was none other then Cayle. Good to see a familiar face and a friendly one at that. Still, it would be rude to sneak up on him and talk to him, don't want to start a fight, or get hit by a shocked Cayle. Instead he sneaks away, and then flies around but having his power shown a bit to be recognized for him to float down in front of Cayle and introduce himself.
"I see you have managed to learn how to suppress your energy really well, I didn't recognize you until I saw you, and you managed to build all of this too. So why are you building a radio tower in the first place? Is this a part of a second job of yours or did Pilaf Land got you to do this for them?" Will O. Wisp asked. Word Count: 471 Tag: Cayle Pota
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Post by Vidar (PROJECT: RAGNAROK) on Oct 16, 2020 18:28:22 GMT -8
How long had Vidar been in Pilaf Land? He had lost track of time, if he were being honest. Perhaps it was because of the constant activity? There was always something going on in this strange amusement park-like setting. If it wasn't a strange otherworldly temple rising out of the waters - and sinking back into them - there was a massive carrot shaped "meteor" hurtling through the planet's atmosphere - and, of course, it turns out that it was not a meteor so much as it was a massive carrot spaceship. Why was nothing in this place ever simple? And why was everything, aside from the temple, oddly vegetable based?
But, aside from the many strange vegetable based events which plagued Pilaf Land, all appeared to be going quite normally for the theme park. Vidar had yet to leave, but that was because he had yet to find someone who could fix his arm. His shattered limb was held in a sling draped across his shoulder and chest. He had attempted to repair it. But, the cybernetic arm was in such a bad state that even if he did manage to reattach it, it would not stay in one piece for long.
Where were all of the scientists that Riku had told him about? The cyborg samurai had mentioned something about scientists in Pilaf Land, geniuses, whom Vidar believed could repair or even replace his broken limb, if repairing was out of the question. But, in the amount of time since he'd been there, he'd only run into one scientist; that small bear beast woman scientist whom he had run into whilst helping Cayle and the others best a group of strange weirdos dressed up in varying different types of outfits, but they all wore one thing that was the same across all of them, a strange headband. He recalled the scientist then. But, the bear did not appear, at least in his opinion, to have the capacity to deal with something as complex or high tech as his arm - though, he was sure that his arm was no longer high tech given how much time he had spent in stasis deep within Dr. Kringle's hidden lab.
It was a painful realization that was slowly beginning to dawn on him. Sure, he had known that he was somewhat outdated; the world had moved on in many aspects and technology just happened to be one of them. But,he had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that he was not too outdated. But, he could not find anyone who could repair his arm. There were a few scientists here or there, but none of them knew much about his particular construction. Perhaps that was the problem? He had to find more information about himself, files, something that would help him in his quest of not just repairing his arm but improving himself in general. He had to upgrade a number of his systems, perhaps even give himself a significant power boost, improve upon his generator and increase his efficiency. Oh, he had many ideas. But he needed help implementing them all.
Another day had gone by and he had yet to find a single person who could help him in any way. Perhaps, aside from trying to strengthen himself through upgrades, he needed to improve himself in other ways? It was an idea that he had kicked around in his head a few times. Despite being a cyborg - a human augmented and upgraded - he was still partially human. He did have the capacity to grow stronger through training. But, even that was hard to find in Pilaf Land. Who was he going to approach to help him train? Well, he did know a few people; he had met quite a number of fighters since he awoke.
The people of Pilaf Land were going about their business. There were a lot of customers around, many clients enjoying the seemingly endless festivities which filled every booth and every building around him. There was an area that looked almost like an open air market, just outside an enclosed building that felt almost like a massive shopping mall. There were dozens of booths and he was walking past them all.
Nothing in those booths caught his attention; there was a menagerie of knick knacks from souvenirs, bobble heads, figurines, sunglasses, etc, to headbands, t-shirts, and even plush toys that, of course, resembled vegetables.
There was, however, one booth that caught his attention. In fact, Vidar had almost walked past it. It wasn't that he wanted to purchase anything from the booth. It was the old fashioned radio that sat atop the booth. It was maintained, he could tell, but it was told. It reminded him of an old radio that Doctor Kringle kept on his desk in his office, although the Doctor rarely listened to it. As he listened to the music pouring out of it, he recalled the numerous times he spotted a similar radio sitting atop the old scientist's desk, off to the corner, with its boxy design and simple dials and buttons.
There was a sudden burst of static. His eyes raised up from the ground, his mind focused, and he looked at the radio. The music was cutting in and out, faintly at first then it became hard to ignore.
'You are listening to G-RDN, The Garden, Ensalada's radio station!' a voice enthusiastically announced as the music was fully unceremoniously replaced. 'Let's play something with a bit more pep in its step,' the DJ chirped before music began to pour out of the radio once again.
Hm, that was new. In all of the time that he had been in Pilaf Land, Vidar had never heard of this particular radio station. It had good music though.
"What station is this?" One of the customers from the nearby booth heard the music, which Vidar noticed was now pouring out of every single radio in the area around him.
"Not sure, this isn't the regular broadcast," one of the attendants working the booth replied as they looked at the radio, looking somewhat dumbfounded.
WC: 1,015 PL: 26,067
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Flare
Other Race
Posts: 28
Power Level: Biggest in town
Effort Points: LORG
Reputation: 2 - Southern Islands
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Post by Flare on Nov 13, 2020 16:09:54 GMT -8
Working for some big state-wide fair seemed to pay well enough for the girl to stick around for a bit. With all this zeni that the place seems to just give its workers, it was worth it to have to deal with the myopic management and strangely clingy crowd. The Mai Outfit would be so much better than being stuffed inside a crazy mascot though. just took a bit of makeup and some other... things Flare wasn't too keen on. Oh well, that became less of an issue once things got a little routine. She'd probably have been there only a day or so before she got the hang of things and was able to be around without a certain fluffy majin. It must have been during a break when the girl actually took the time to listen to the radio. Barring some of the more eccentric tourists, the place can actually get boring if you're not the one perusing the rides or partaking in any of its many wild entertainments. It was always a little warm for the average person, but to Flare, basking in the sun all day felt just at home. She just wished it could be out of that stuffy costume that Mai gal wore. So she did. Relaxing in a chair with the wig, coat, and pants off to the side as she was relaxing in her normal getup. Minus the gi pants. "Can I not get anything on the radio not sanctioned by this place?"Ask, and you shall receive. The radio she had been issued started on the fritz, building up to Static till that was all present. The fiery redhead frowned at the thing at first. In reach of the thing already, the woman rose a leg to tap the radio a few times with a foot. Nothing. Further irritated the girl had to move and dangle with the radio personally. Picking it up in her hands and trying to realign it. Turn the channels back and forth, turn it off and back on. Nothing. "The blazin' hells. There ain't no way a big place like this would have such a big issue with so many towers everywhere.She was right and wholly fully unaware of the current hijacking of the frequencies around her. That flicker would suddenly stop, and a very new radio host made themselves known. Introducing Themselves with some weird name and place. Ensalada sounded like a salad, and the fire gal only vaguely knew of things on Earth better yet anything extraterrestrial. Though if there were one thing she'd not mind on the station, the music actually let a lot more energetic and her style than whatever entertainment sanitized drool Pilaf usually played. "If I ever find whoever's messing with our signals, there will be hell to pay!"A wandering tough guy sharkman, assumingly one of the other workers here in pilafland, seemed rather frustrated as he walked on past the break area here. Looking down at his own pocket radio that also just started picking it up. Flare perked a brow at the guy and picked herself on up. Arms crossed as he looked the big fella up and down. "So it ain't just me, huh? Well, if'n there was anyone who could deal with some meddlers, it's me. Ya got a way to track that?"The guy was just a bit taller than Flare, but in mass, they'd stand rather equal. He looked down and shot a toothy grin at the lass. Rubbing as his blue and white shark chin in thought. Up close, there was an obvious nametag on his shirt. "I might, I might. It's Juhnber, but just call me John. I'm the field technician around this area. Got a pretty good idea just by my peers and their own accounts where it probably is, but we've not really got anyone willing to meddle with it. Kinda aggravating, really."Finally, some fun she could have. Flare would jump at the opportunity to get up and do something other than wait for a next shift. She wanted just a little more out of Pilaf before she moved on, and this was the perfect point to find something else. "You've got my ears, John! Just tell me what ya know."
WC: 717 TPL: 974 Cayle Pota Will O. Wisp Vidar (PROJECT: RAGNAROK)
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Post by Cayle Pota on Nov 22, 2020 1:41:39 GMT -8
One breathed, and then one exhaled. The life giving chemicals and elements in the inhaled breath was in turn used to fuel the limbs of one's body as their blood pushed it through their body to the beat of the drums of their heart. So too, from a metaphysical standpoint, was spiritual energy, at least in the sense of Cayle's understanding of it- both from Saiyan mystic traditions, and martial training as a very young child, and from Earthling martial arts films, especially the more archaic ones which Carlos Alfonso De La Reyes and the rest of the cook crew back at the Taco King headquarters restaurant preferred. One breathed and moved and through that their body- not just their mouth and nose, absorbed ambient ki. From their organs, ki was also generated, and stored, and this energy was used to push onward and further than mortal men could, with the martial artist's strength coming from increasing their ki control and capacity as much as their muscle control.
To control one's ki, they needed to know their limits, and to use their mind. To control their breath, control their movement, control their hunger, their lust, their greed, their wrath. So Cayle had slowly begun to form as his modus operandi when it came to the martial arts, so learning new things was good from a martial stand point in the same way that it was good for a sheer logistical and economic standpoint.
As if making a statement without moving or bothering to remark on Will O' Wisp's somewhat arrogant statement, Cayle cut his power level down. It went to one from its true power level, and then turned from the obnoxious, orange strapped lawn chair he was sitting in to look at the cat beastman. The icy blue eyes of the Saiyan former farm boy hovered over him.
“This is my second home, what do you mean a second job?” The Saiyan's tail pointed to the tower. “That's a hobby and an effort to get my country on the map, get our radio on the waves, and just test if what my technicians thought was right -is- right. As for you, are you here on your second job? Did you bring the noodles and orange chicken I ordered?”
Anyone who thought Cayle Pota, son of Pota Potaset, was some sort of Saiyan dullard had never met the man. Sometimes he was just as snarky as any human.
The Radio Station itself flipped from playing energetic techno, to island beats, to Islander Rap from the rest of the Salad Islands', to Saiyan Heavy Metal – three varieties of that, the synthetic kind you heard from West City and Capsule Corp Records, the Vapid, Hip-Hop infused Little Vegeta styles which were barely Saiyan Heavy Metal and not O-Pop, and a folksy, new variety, with fiddles, bag pipes, tin whistles and flutes accompanied at times by what seemed to be a cross between throat singing and yodeling and at other times accompanied by deep voiced, almost skaldic recitations of songs, sagas, and great deeds and battles- all in the meter and melody of an actual song.
While no one had announced it on the radio, Cayle knew from listening to it that the primary singer in that third style was Friddar, the presumptive 'happy great uncle' of the people of Ensalada. Cayle had seen the bearded, bushy haired Saiyan practice with the band when they had heard the Earthling perverted sounds and decided to bring more archaic, true to old saiyan, traditions and values to the songs.
The fact that one of the songs was about Pota the Proud, and another – about young Cayle Pota, the son of Pota Potaset, destined to be the King of the Pickles? That was just a plus. Cayle was friends with Friddar long before the old man and his band had decided to shower the icy blue eyed Saiyan with praise.
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Post by Will O. Wisp on Nov 23, 2020 18:39:50 GMT -8
"No, I was just patrolling the area to make sure another weird catastrophe won't happen until I sensed you and decided to stop by, mind if I lay here and listen to some music with you?" Will said. He then stopped and laid down on a spot next to Cayle's lawnchair. While he wasn't much of a fun of the energetic techno. He almost fell asleep to the island beats before the islander rap woke him up. And then there were the Saiyan Heavy Metal versions which were...surely different than the usual heavy metal but still not Will's style. Though he noticed that the lyrics of one of the songs seemed to be about Cayle upset revering him as some sort of king. Now Will has been very busy training and what not so he hasn't been keeping up with what Cayle has been doing but he feels that when Cayle was talking about making the radio station for his country. He was really talking about his country. With that song over he Will remembered all the feats he has seen Cayle do, lift a big metallic ship on his own, beating him in a spar so quickly he barely even realized, and of course, there was that time he witnessed what he did inside that spaceship. Long ago Will thought Bass and Clove to be good candidates to help train him to get strong and ready for the upcoming Budokai Tenkaichi. Though now that he's spending time with Cayle and looking back, perhaps he should've realized sooner. "You know I am in the Turtle School again as a student now, working my way from the bottom trying to get even stronger than I ever was, but of course I can't do that alone. Cayle, you're not only the most powerful person I know but the most skilled fighter too. After all, when you sparred me long ago when we were at equal levels you managed to beat me with fighting prowess I could only hope to have. So please can you teach this old cat some new tricks oh King of the Pickles?" Will pleaded. While waiting for his answer Will opened his eyelids to show his sapphire blue eyes, making a cute pleading face as he held his paws up in a beckoning manner as if pleading or begging. While Will is not desperate he knows he can never find a chance to be trained under someone like Cayle ever again. So he has to make sure that Cayle will say yes to his offer.
Word Count: 428 Total Word Count: 899 Tags: Cayle Pota , Vidar (PROJECT: RAGNAROK) , Flare
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Post by Vidar (PROJECT: RAGNAROK) on Nov 27, 2020 6:54:40 GMT -8
The music that rolled out of the radio was catchy, yes, but it confused the booth owner. The man stared at his radio as if the thing had sprouted legs and begun to do a beautifully choreographed dance routine right in front of him. It was just...not the usual music that played over that particular radio channel. Then again, as he stood there, and Vidar stood nearby, it became clear that something had changed. Someone had hijacked the radio waves? That caused the look of confusion on the man's face to become one of slight amusement and he laughed as he shook his head. Oh, who could have done that? It didn't bother him, it actually made him laugh; deep strong boisterous laughter.
On the other hand, Vidar was still somewhat confused. He did not listen to the music that poured out of the radios or PA system, which was set up all throughout the park and constantly drowned the place and all of its inhabitants with music. He hardly paid any attention to it at all. But now that the music had changed, it was hard to ignore.
The music was... different. But it was not unpleasant. It had a strange yet somewhat appealing beat. He canted his head, listening to it, allowing it to filter in and he almost swayed to it then he shook his head, as if breaking out of a trance. "Where is the source of this broadcast?" He commented to no one in particular; although his internal HUD took that as a command to start scanning the airwaves and triangulating their specific source.
EXTRAPOLATING BROADCAST ORIGIN LOCATION... CALCULATING...
As he waited for that to work, he listened to the music. It went from one song to the next and he tapped his foot somewhat, although he did not appear to notice that his foot was tapping along to the beat.
LOCATION FOUND.
His foot stopped and data flowed down across his eyes, coordinates. He turned to face the direction the coordinates pointed him to and lifted up off the ground and took off. The force of his take off rattled the booth but nothing was harmed as he flew away from it, leaving the booth owner shocked and staring wide eyed and slack jawed.
As he flew towards the location, he picked up a familiar energy level - no, two of them - and he thought back to just whom they belonged to. One of them was Cayle, the owner of the Taco King restaurant. The other was Will-O-Wisp, the odd floating cat that had just kind of wandered off after the group had dealt with a group of pirates that had attacked the Taco King restaurant in hopes of taking their food, despite them having more than enough money to purchase all of the food without starting an almost literal war over tacos. It was odd how the same group of people kept running into each other; he was not complaining, though. They were an interesting pair of individuals. They were also quite capable.
He soon spotted them and flew over to them, dropping out of the sky and landing, with barely a sound, on the grass before walking over to the pair of them.
"I like the music."
WC: 545 | 1,560
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