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Post by Zaru on Oct 1, 2019 14:04:22 GMT -8
Once again, the desert was stretched out in front of him. The sound of the bike's engine roared through the sands, kicking up that very thing along with dust behind it as Daikon rode hard through the Southlands, a slight grimace on his face as he curled his lip. He was in a decidedly less good mood today than usual. Not because anyone had particularly spoiled it; well, not anyone he'd met yet, anyway. It was something a bit different. He was trying to be pissed off, more than it was coming naturally right now. He'd heard rumours of something that so far he hadn't considered; someone stronger than him around here. Sure, he could sense some of those powers around the place, so he knew he wasn't the toughest guy in the world quite yet, but someone so much stronger, so close to where he was? He couldn't stand it. He had to do something. The Fist of the South Star, they called him. He was never big into Astronomy or anything, but he hadn't heard of any particular South Star, at least not one that was gonna help him. That didn't matter, though. What did matter is he'd heard this guy was a master of some kind of long lost martial art, which was crazy all on its own. There were a lot of rumours flying around, most of them probably a lot of hot air. The ones that interested him most, though...he wasn't sure. They said that whoever this Fist was, they'd wrecked entire armies that had come in front of them. Any great demon, Namekian Lord or warlord that stepped up got not just knocked down; some of them with holes blown in them or whole parts of their body just bursting up. That was crazy power, if it was true. Absolutely crazy. A small grin grew across Daikon's face. Oh, man. This guy was already driving him crazy. He was so excited just at the idea of meeting someone like that, nevermind fighting him, but that was what the whole point of psyching himself up was. He couldn't miss this opportunity. If he acted like some thug looking for revenge, then he'd get his chance. How could he just leave it laying there? There was no way. The best part was, he'd heard about where this dude was. Some place out at the foot of a mountain. Driving his bike in that direction, he finally brought it a stop just outside where he was pretty sure was the place. His ability to sense energy was enough that he knew somebody strong was around here, at least. Stepping off his bike, Daikon lit a cigarette, keeping it in his mouth as he shoved both hands in his pockets, staring in the direction of the mountain, slowly looking up it, the reflection of the stalwart place showing in his shades. He could feel other sources of power here - maybe he wasn't the only one who'd heard of this piece of work. Usually he didn't like sharing, but who could blame them if they had?
WC: 517
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Post by Warr on Oct 1, 2019 16:15:27 GMT -8
There was not much of a bounty that Koma of the Bear Clan would refuse to go on if the person was a sufficient threat and they deserved it. That was why he had no qualms about beating those who came after him and that was why he did not normally beat them more than he had to. Today the slate grey eyed warrior was not so sure he would provide them with the little mercy of holding back. Why? Because he had not been faced in open combat. These fools had used a Burger Emperor food truck to drug him and after he was unconscious were speeding through the Southlands to try to get back to the Pig Demon Duchies and turn him over for his enemies in the those lands.
As his eyes fluttered awake, and he drifted out of the dreams of destroying these fellows, he stared at his hands and feet and considered his situation. In the back of a speeding food truck going down the dirt road while with his hands and feet tied up. Three guards total, the driver, one in the passenger seat, and one grinning at him with a gun.
‘Well what a pile of fudge with molten chocolate on top. A horse’s portion of fudge, even.’ That was his thought as they sped along, and as he considered his options. Gun aimed at him, swordless, without even his bowie knife at his side, the descendant of Yajirobe was not sure how to solve this situation. He furrowed his thick eyebrows and puffed out his cheeks before shifting slightly. He cocked his left eyebrow and squinted with his right eye and cupped his hands before focusing. Then he began to speak.
“You bunch of idiots think you’re real clever taking a fighter down with some sedatives in their food and drink, don’t you? Think you’re real clever and that you deserve the vast amount of Zeni that the cowards in the Saber Cat and the Boar Clans have on my head.”
The man with the gun cocked it, as if trying to say shut up but not saying it exactly.
“Because you even took my bowie knife, you all gotta be real scared of what Koma the Swinging Top can do. Made sure to tie my bonds carefully so I couldn’t escape, right?”
The man quivered now, no one simply ignored a gun cock while tied up. Koma of the Bear Clan did, though it seemed.
“Lemme tell you a secret. You don’t get to become a vice-commander of a clan, a next in the step to being a Daimyo, without having more skills than the average warriors. You think this bunch of boar shit is going to stop me?”
He spat on the ground, and continued to build up his spiritual energy. Then he fired at the center of the console of the car, letting the energy blast build up in his hands as best as he could and then firing the biggest blast he could. He barely was able to dodge the frantic fire of bullets before they crashed into a rock somewhere along the road and he was the only one who was conscious. Flexing against the bonds, he shattered them and then searched for his bowie knife, slipping it back into its sheath before trudging out of the back of the food truck and stealing a pre-made handful of burgers while he was. He would have to make sure these didn’t have sedatives before eating them, unless he wanted to have a nice nap somewhere secluded.
He of course walked out of the wrecked food truck with those burgers in his hand, sniffing the air. Of course, someone was smoking while he had just had a badass entrance. “You didn’t even consider that you could have died from that stupid speeding van?”
[644] [1161]
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Post by Zaru on Oct 2, 2019 9:47:19 GMT -8
Daikon still stared at the mountain, his senses reaching out as he tried to feel for the guy he was looking for. He glanced around, trying to see if maybe he could spot him with his eyes (hidden as they were, beneath his shades) due to him suppressing his energy. Huh. He couldn't find the guy anywhere. Had he taken a wrong turn? That couldn't have been right. The young half-saiyan was almost positive that this was the place, if the instructions he was given were right. He hoped they were right. Otherwise, somebody has just wasted a whole lot of his time, which peeved him a lot more than anything else. He reached up, taking the cigarette out of his mouth for a moment as he blew smoke into the air, still looking in vain. No fists or appendages of any stars round here, that he could see. Maybe he ought to check out the mountain itself. Suddenly, his ears pricked up. Not because he could necessarily hear someone coming, but rather something. He heard an engine, and not the hot-sounding type, like what the Wolf Fang had. Nah, it sounded kind of clunky. Like a people carrier, or a van. Something crappy, either way. He turned to face the direction that it was coming from, and sure enough, he could see a truck heading in his direction. Not just any kind, but a Burger Emperor food truck. They did delivery all the way out here? That changed things. If he fixed himself up a permanent residence out here, then maybe it wasn't a bad idea to fish out their number again, from whatever pocket he had that list in. One of his hands rummaged around in his pockets for the number as he glanced down, trying to see. Without warning, his senses kicked up. He could feel energy, pretty powerful energy too, building up inside that truck. He slowly put the cigarette back into his mouth, keeping his hands in his pockets as he stared towards the vehicle approachin from beneath his shades, never breaking focus on it. That build-up was still going, he could feel it slowly begin to reach a peak. It was starting to get him a bit excited to feel power that strong, too. Maybe this was the guy? Would he burst out from the driver's cab or through the roof and come flying in with an attack? That would be great, he'd love an entrance like that. He began to build up the anticipation even more in his head, even as he retained a blank expression on his face. Who was this dude, that he could do something like that? Daikon stared, still retaining his cool as the truck violently veered off course. This guy might have been tough, but he wasn't exactly the best driver. Ah, well. Nobody was perfect, right? Except for him, when he wanted to be. If he tried, he bet he could be perfect. Maybe once he kicked this guy's ass and established himself in the Southlands, he'd head home just to rub the old man's nose in it. That would be great. He could barely hold back from grinning, but managed it just barely. The very idea made him chuckle. The truck smashed into a rock now, and as it began to crash, it was heading straight in his direction. The careening vehicle still came towards him, but he didn't move or try to dodge, standing still as he simply watched it barely change course and avoid him, smashing to the ground to the side of him and laying there in a heap. He couldn't have dodged, anyway. His bike was right behind him. No way he was letting this hunk of junk smash his girl. He stared as someone walked out of the truck, but it wasn't who he was expecting. As the man approached, and then asked him a question, he realised. For as cool an entrance as that was, and as strong as this guy was compared to most people out here, this wasn't who he was looking for. He reached up, raising an eyebrow at the question as he took the cigarette out of his mouth again. "Why would I consider something like that?" Smoke drifted up from his mouth again as he glanced towards the mountain. "You here for this 'Fist of the South Star', too? Guy's supposedly one of the toughest around, could make a lot of money off of getting rid of him." He wasn't exactly open about his little addiction problem with fights. If someone thought he was a hitman, bounty hunter or just a guy who really liked money, that was much preferred.
WC: 787 TWC: 1,948
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Post by Koma on Oct 3, 2019 0:06:05 GMT -8
When the guy with the spiky hair and the leather jacket responded the way that he did, Koma cocked an eyebrow. What man in his right mind would just ignore a speeding vehicle? That was a good way to die, unless you were.. Koma of the Bear Clan closed his eyes for a moment and the focused outside of himself. He began to breath in a controlled manner before pushing his spiritual energy out of his body for a moment and in this effort activating his ‘Sense’ technique. He soon saw the considerable power level of the spiky haired person in front of him, or rather felt he considerable power of level.
The former warlord who had now turned into a vagabond swordsman- except where was the sword? Gave a nod to the man. “Glad that you weren’t just a normal person. I’d hate to have had my accident aimed at those bounty hunters to have caused an actual… accident or killed someone via car.”
To the Fist of the South Star, he shrugged. He had no real taste for bounty hunting myths, and that was what the man was- but then again Koma had no interest in staying here in the lowlands at the moment, either. Up in the mountain range was his goal for the moment, so he could get some rest and eat some food in peace away from bounty hunters and fighting.
“I personally think he’s a myth, but if you’re going the way of the mountain range, I’m more than willing to help you hunt for him until I get to my destination.” he did not bother to explain his destination was ‘any cave or comfortable looking spot that’s also secluded that I find’, though- and soon the slate grey eyed wandering samurai began to step towards the mountain side as if he expected the answer was a ‘Yes, Definitely’.
“Koma’s the name, by the way, stranger. What’s your’s?” he said as he began this travel. It was bad luck to passerby someone without a greeting and finding their name or their claimed name.
[349] [2297]
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Post by Zaru on Oct 3, 2019 9:23:24 GMT -8
Daikon just gave a nod to Koma when he was acknowledged as not being normal - the understatement of the century; before he dropped his cigarette from his fingers. He didn't even give it a moment on the ground before his boot came down on top of it, snuffing it out quickly. It might have seemed odd to do it so soon after lighting the damn thing, but he hadn't expected to be travelling with company. The only reason he'd lit it was to watch the mountains for a bit and see what he could feel out from where his bike sat. Now that he had someone else's time to think of, sitting around wasn't really the plan; besides, with potential backup, he was more confident about heading in there without too much warning beforehand, even if on the surface, that hadn't really crossed his mind. He could do this himself, of course. Yes, definitely. He shot a grin towards Koma as he began travelling towards the range, leaning down and actually picking up his bike with one arm. He gently carried it with him like it was no issue at all, as though he was carrying a couple of books rather than a large chopper with an incredibly powerful engine. The young son of Capsule Corp reached up, slowly taking the glasses off his face as they began approaching the range. He wanted to find a good spot to leave his bike. He'd go off if some numbnuts managed to sneak up and steal her from right underneath his nose like that, and he wasn't taking her up a mountain range. That was a good way to wreck the engine, even one this strong. His blue eyes stood out rather oddly with the rest of his look, and probably gave away even to strangers that he wasn't the full Saiyan he sometimes posed as. "Daikon. I'm not from around here, so I appreciate the assist. Would be a waste of time if I get lost in these mountains. I know people say this guy's a myth, but...there wouldn't be so much money out for something that wasn't real. From what I know of people with that much cash to throw around, they ain't eager to part with it unless there's something much more of a threat to it they can stop." Daikon let his bike rest near the foot of the mountain range, where he and Koma were now approaching. Keeping his hands in his pockets, he continued up into it without hesitation. He had to be up here somewhere. Daikon could almost taste it. "So, you are from around here, right? I'm from-" There was a hesitation in saying anything more, in case he gave too much away. He didn't want connections being noticed if he didn't want it. "...from West City. You?"
WC: 484 TWC: 2781
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Post by Koma on Oct 3, 2019 10:45:35 GMT -8
The slate grey eyed saiyan-human hybrid cocked an eyebrow at Daikon when he countered the idea of them being a myth with that logic. There were plenty of reasons to offer up that kind of money if it was a myth, after all people could be scared away from an area if they thought a dangerous psychopath martial artist lived there- and inversely rival corporations could send spies in by having hapless bounty hunters go into the area to try to scour it for the signs of the Fist of the the South Star. It all made sense to Koma, at least.
“There’s plenty of reasons why they’d still offer up the cash, to be honest. Myth or not. But I’ll help you look for this mythological being, just because I happen to be bored and its good luck to help passerby.”
The wandering samurai adjusted his tunic, laden with patches from sights as it was, and then loosened his hair before taking the time to readjust it and put it back into a ponytail. When he was done, he continued to walk up the foothills that lead to the mountain.
“I’m not from around here, no. I’m from Three Caves Village back in the Pig Demon Duchies.” he remarked as they walked, unafraid of revealing his home because this guy wouldn’t know a thing about the Pig Demon Duchies if he hadn’t recognized Koma solely from the Roaring Bear mon emblem on his back.
To the other hybrid carrying a motorcycle, Koma chuckled, “Haven’t you ever heard of using a capsule for that kind of thing?” not at all realizing the irony of what he was saying- because he did not know who he was speaking to.
“I figure it’s probably three days on foot at a comfortable pace to reach the top of the mountain. What about you? What do you think?”
[314] [3095]
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Post by Zaru on Oct 3, 2019 13:25:57 GMT -8
Daikon let out a chuckle as he heard his travelling companion's reasoning for helping out. What a ridiculous thought something like the Fist of the South Star was, but helping out a stranger granted you mysterious luck, huh? Why not? In a way, Daikon could respect that idea of the universe. That there were all these weird little rules and bonuses you could get from doing things that it deemed as good to do, like a boss giving somebody a raise. Actually, once he thought of it like that, maybe he didn't like that idea of the universe at all. The laws of fate and how everything went being determined by obssessive, pedantic businessmen who needed to keep control of everything and what it wanted, or what its desires were? Yeah, that would suck. The half-Saiyan thought to himself about where Koma was from, and what a place like that could be like. He glanced up as he thought, the blue eyes seeming lost in wonder about it. Pig Demon Duchies, huh? Didn't exactly sound appealing. He knew that there was, uh....some king who'd lived out there, right? A couple of them, anyway. Or, at least just the one Pig king. He rubbed his chin for a moment with his free hand before his expression changed from wondrous to almost flat in a moment, hearing at Koma's suggestion regarding just using a Capusle. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, maybe. I just don't like using capsules. Call it dumb, but it reminds me of too many things I don't like." Daikon walked to a shady spot where he would leave his bike, just next to the entrance up into the foothills of the mountain range. He crouched down, taking off his driving gloves to place them in a compartment on his bike, folding up his jacket and doing the same. He wore a rather simple black tank top underneath it, walking back towards Koma waited and chuckling at his estimation of the time it would take. "Three days? Bro, I can fly us up there in five minutes." As he said it, Daikon's energy began to slowly bubble and rise, his hair and clothes lifting slightly before he followed them, floating effortlessly in the air a few feet off the ground. He rolled his neck and shoulders, leaning back in the air for a moment before he held a hand out towards Koma. "How's about it? I can give you a lift - once we deal with this guy, if he exists, I'll teach you how to do this, yeah?" He bet he was a great teacher. How hard could it be?
WC: 450 TWC: 3545
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Post by Koma on Oct 3, 2019 16:44:04 GMT -8
The youthful looking thirty year old warrior simply chuckled at all the extra work that the Saiyan in the Leather Jacket was doing to hide his motorcycle and protect it. The slate grey eyed man could understand caring about an object that much, and indeed when he thought about it he touched one of the fragments of what had once been his sword before its shattering. He was silent until the young man got back, and then he spoke up. “Yeah, I understand that, kid. Refusing to use something because of complex feelings about them.”
To the flight, he shook his head. Not that it wouldn’t be useful knowing how to fly, but he was not so sure that that could be something like that anytime soon and further than that, it seemed strange to assume that the Fist of the South Star would be sitting on top of the mountain waiting for someone to climb it and fight them. Surely they wouldn’t? That sounded like one of those Capsule Corp Computers video game console systems RPG plots.
“That sounds too convenient, to be perfectly honest. Even if he was up there at the top, we wouldn’t be ready for him if he could take down an army by himself without planning. Two guys, only one of who can fly? That’s just asking to get peppered by spiritual energy blasts as we approach.”
The wild haired samurai brushed his hair back a bit off of his shoulders for a moment and then began to walk, expecting the fellow with him to follow.
“My suggestion, we take our time getting up there. Give ourselves chances to adapt to the altitude and the area, as well as keep our bellies full.” the swordless warrior walked at a normal pace and tossed one of the hamburgers he had taken from the food truck. “Though I warn you, they may or may not be drugged with sleeping medicines. Great Hamburgers beyond that.”
He thought of the legends he had heard about this guy, about the way that his fighting style had inspired a rash of sword forgoing wannabes in the Pig Demon Duchies, where it was considered pretty silly to not carry a bladed weapon somewhere. How he had supposedly defeated twenty tanks with one strike. How he had defeated a hundred bounty hunters and when they thought he was dead he was suddenly regenerated his limbs.
“What kind of martial arts do you know, if you don’t mind me asking? It’s important for us to know for the purposes of working together, I think. Especially against someone like the Fist of the South Star. No?” He was trying to strategize, because for as much of a stupid bumpkin he looked, he was once a vice-captain of a Samurai Clan, a warlord in his own right. Not that his kid from a huge metropolis like West City would know that, and not that it meant anything if they didn’t find some camaraderie and knowledge of each other’s abilities before they got to the Fist of the South Star. While he waited for an answer, he stopped at a nearby tree and cut two limbs off of it to create walking sticks for them. It would be important to keep their stamina as they trudged through the mountains, and keeping their power levels suppressed would help with finding a big fish like the Fist of the South Star.
“We should keep our power levels suppressed, if possible. Not use spiritual energy when possible as well. If he thinks we’re just a bunch of mundane fighters, then that’s that much more advantage for us when it comes to fighting him.” the slate grey eyed samurai counseled, before picking up a few stone from the ground to use with the sling he carried as well. “At least, that’s what I think. Do you have any extra intel you can give me about the situation, Mister Bounty Hunter? Or rather Mister Daikon the Bounty Hunter from West City?”
[670] [4215]
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Post by darthlunchbox on Nov 5, 2019 10:59:17 GMT -8
Cade stirred the fire as he said cross legged in front of it. His training had come to a stalemate and it was time to seek one he had heard of only in stories. Reaching over, he turned the rabbit on the spit, a scrawny desert hare but a welcome change to trail food. He checked it after a few minutes and found it was done. Pulling the rabbit off of the flame, he let it cool as he contemplated the legend of the Fist. One that he knew was at least rooted in truth. He took a bite of the rabbit and let his mind drift over the tales he had heard. The Fist of the South Star... hero of the oppressed. Victor of hundreds of battles no matter the odds. Able to smash the toughest demon into the ground, able outwit the wiliest of the human warlords. His granpa Morita must have told Cade hundreds of tales of the Fist's exploits if he had told one. His favorite tale revolved around the Fist coming to a small farming town, wounded and looking for safe harbor to heal and recharge. The people took him in and made sure he had all the water he needed, as he was a Namekian and apparently didn't really need to eat. The very day the Fist was to leave, a band of demon bounty hunters called the Oni's Tears. They were a fierce group of 5 that had never failed to take in their prey; their names were still passed down in the legend to this day. Ororo, the mighty powerhouse; Hiromi, the dark mystic; Kalazar, the brutal; Atlatl, the dark blade; and their leader Nero, cruel tactician. They came to the village where they had tracked the Fist and started destroying it hoping to draw him out. As they reached the town square, a young human martial artist stood ready to oppose the 5; he knew he could not succeed , he but sought to give the Fist time to escape. The demons laughed and began beating the human into the ground, his power and skill nowhere near the level to challenge even one of them. They smacked and kicked him around the square, landing savage blows every time he refused to answer where the Fist was. Finally he had fetched up against the edge of the fountain, barely conscious as Nero knelt in front of him, Red face flanked by golden horns and a deep pleasant voice telling him, "Last chance, human. Where is the Fist of the South Star?" The boy just smirked at Nero, "You'll never find him, freak. He will free our town from your grip..."Nero's fist snapped back to end the impertinent boy's life and was caught by a a cloaked figure that flicked into place beside him. The figure's leg smashed into Nero's face and sent him sprawling back to his comrades. His voice was rough as if it was not used much as the figure spoke, "I won't let you hurt these people or allow them to suffer for my sake." He stood between the Oni's Tears and the boy. The Fist flickered into their midst as Nero stood, ki bursts flashing and punches and kicks landing to devastating effect. Occasionally one of the demons would catch the fist with a blow... but mostly they were totally outclassed. With a mighty leap and flip into the air, the fist plummeted back down to the earth as he called out, "Prepare to meet the FIST OF THE SOUTH STAR!" He rocketed into the ground, purple aura igniting around him and exploding into a furious column of light. The boy had to look away and close his eyes as the wind generated from the power threatened to rip him from the ground and toss him away. When the light faded, he looked back to where the fight had been taking place; only the fist stood there. The Oni's Tears had been annihilated. The fist came to the boy and checked on him, "You were brave to stand up to those goons. Keep training, I think one day you will build your own legend. Go and get some help and heal first, boy. you have the Fist of the Southern Stars gratitude - what is your name?"
The boy beamed, "I will, Lord Fist. I will build my own legend and oppose those who would keep us down. My name is Morita."
Cade tossed the remnants of the hare into the darkness where a scavenger might get an easy meal out of them. It was time to turn in and try to grab some rest. Tomorrow he was on his way to find the Fist of the South Star. * * * In the morning, Cade placed the light saddle on Boko and made sure the ostrich was watered before he mounted up and lightly booted its sides. The bird grunted and started trotting southward towards the rumored home of the Fist. It was pretty a uneventful start to a great quest; he stopped and worked on a farm that afternoon for dinner. The next day he helped herd cattle in the afternoon in return for some food that would keep on the trail. The third day marked the first exciting thing that happened. He was stopped at another farm, this time he was helping to bale hay and put it in the loft. He gathered another bundle together and bundled it with the rough twine before pitching it up into the loft. He turned to keep going when he heard raised voices outside the barn. He reached inside of himself and cautiously tamped his power down to only a little more than a normal person as he quietly approached the barn door. He heard the farmer saying, "I don't have that much grain for taxes, it was a dry year! If you take that much I'll be ruin..."A high haughty and cold voice answered, "That matters not to me, peasant. We'll take what we're due. If you are ruined you had better find another way to pay your lord next time hadn't you?" a couple of voices rang out in unpleasant chuckles at the words. Cade casually walked out of the barn towards the thugs using the pitchfork as a walking stick. The leader and apparent speaker was a a slender well muscled demon with orange skin; his goons were huge musclebound types with white hair and purple skin. They almost looked to be twins; Cade dubbed them Ike and Mike in his mind. As he neared he called out, "Farmer Tulu, why don't you go and make sure I packed that hay right." He waited for them man to start nervously backing away before he turned to the demons, "Hey what's goin' on here you all? Man says he ain't got you're taxes. Maybe you should get on out of here." Ol' orange skin pointed at him, "Crush him and bring the farmer back here. Maybe it's time to teach them all a lesson."The goon to his left, the nearest to Cade, lurched forward and threw a power packed punch at him. He easily spun to the side and brought the handle of the pitchfork down on the base of his skull, sending him sprawling to the ground as the handle let out a mighty CRACK, with the tines of the pitchfork flying off to the side. The other brute came around and launched a flying kick over Ike's prone form. Cade sidestepped and leaped into attack as he landed, swinging the handle like a staff, striking the demon thugs on knee, stomach and then face before it broke once more. Cade cast the broken pieces aside and grunted as the goon managed to land a solid punch in his gut. Cade staggered back and felt a hand pawing at his ankle; he raised his leg up and stomped on the goons face hard twice, causing his eyes to roll up in his head. 1 down. He spun back towards the other goon in time to partially block a powerful kick to his ribs, lessening the impact. He countered with a flurry of punches and a high side kick under the brute's chin. It too slumped down. He started to turn around but a jarring force made his teeth clack together and a sharp pain racked through him as he hit the ground. He twisted around as punches began to rain down, dodging what he could, blocking a few, but taking a lot of damage as the orange skinned demon relentlessly pummeled down on him. Cade managed to work his feet under the demon and used his knees to lever the demon into rolling off of him over his head. He bounced up and assumed his fighting stance; one arm extended, one cocked by his head, feet planted evenly apart as he stood with his left side facing the orange demon. It growled at him and charged in, launching another flurry of punches. Cade dodged around them, barely. This one was much stronger than the other two... He did a quick roundhouse kick that made the demon jump back and then released his power; a roiling surge of blue ki exploded from his body. He suffused his body with ki and stepped through space... next to the demon, landing an exploding punch. flicker, punch. Flicker - punch. Flicker... punch! The orange demon slid back, dazed for a moment. Cade pressed his attack but the orange demon wa ready for him; twin blasts of bright orange light slammed into him, staggering him and halting him in his tracks. The demon send a wave of light at him next, the impact rolled him back and darn near knocked him out. Cade gathered his will once more and Flickered around the demon again, smashing concussive blasts to his face and body. The demon staggered back, starting to get a little wobbly. Cade smiled and tried to look steady as he motioned for the demon to come on. The demon hesitated then fled, kicking his thugs awake as he ran by, "Come on, let's get outta here!"Cade stood stock still, watching them until they left then crumpled down to one knee... that had been too close. he needed to find the Fist of the South Star so he could get stronger and protect these people from the strength of the demons. * * * It was a couple of days later as he rode Boko towards the growing mountains that he spotted two men looking up at the mountains and talking. He reached inside himslef and suppressed his power... Just in case they mean no good. He pulled the ostrich to a stop nearby and called out, "Howdy folks. Name's Cade Kendrick." He dismounted and patted Boko on the side, "I don't suppose you all could point me in the direction of the Fist of the South Star, could ya?"
[1825/6040]
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Post by Nal on Nov 6, 2019 6:00:51 GMT -8
Majin Nal traveled across the Demonlands alone, after her adventure in the forge - deciding to spend a little time around here, before returning up north to finish what she meant to do - that being finding Bryce and moving to the islands, or at least pointing him in the direction of Kiryu. Or perhaps just staying here a little longer - this land was weird and strange, but oddly… homely, for a majin. She knew it shouldn’t be - she wasn’t an actual demon, but something about the sandy exterior and the local just felt… right. Even if they were way, way more violent than Nal was or appreciated. There was still the case of that power she sensed earlier and - it was also the best place to start her journey, after all, what’s better than curiousity to sate when your time is free? Except a hunger for sweets, of course. On that note, the majin reached into her satchel to pick up a candy - a block of fudge, which immediately got tossed into her mouth after being relieved of it’s wrapping. With the tasty sweet being thoroughly, slowly chewed and enjoyed, Nal began her journey.
First, she needed to sense and like the last time, the girl closed her eyes, moving the antenna from the back of her head forward, turning it around the head like a sonar - it didn’t really have any effect on actual sensing, but it did help her frantic mind to focus on one direction at a time, especially with the block of fudge also being there to help. She faced the side where that energy came from before, confirming it - there was still stuff happening that way. Immediately, she began marching, with a happy hum under her breath. Frowning a bit - humming was fun and nice, but it didn’t exactly do the trick like that strange bike’s radio. She would have to find a way to get something to work for her like that.
And an opportunity came soon - not long after the journey began, a small city happened to be in the way. Industry in the Demonlands wasn’t any worse than that outside, in the southlands or elsewhere - there were ores to smelt, farms to tend to and roads to make, after all, the demon lords needed their servants to have something to pay taxes from, right? Nal hoped that included those funny headwears that Atalan had, and maybe other things of use. So, she walked right into the city, grinning ear to ear and tilting her head, looking at everything and everyone in there. The city was technically not all that different from Central, if smaller, but… people seemed more frightened, hiding around places, barricading doors and windows. She wondered why. Were they leaving? Or closing the city down? It was odd and shouldn’t be happening, and yet it was.
Walking faster, the gray gal managed to find a way into a store before the owner was done boarding it shut, looking up at the man with a smile. “Hey! I’m Nal. Why are you closing? I wanted one of those weavy face thingies because sand makes it hard ot breathe” - she asked, but was ignored - the man simply shut his vendor window and then put a board to it, beginning to nail it shut. This… at first, confused Nal, causing the majin to stagger back in surprise - then outright annoyed her, with the steam escaping her vent holes immediately once the irritation kicked in. She was about to knock on the door again - planning to punch the door into the shop and teach that rude clerk some manners - when another noise distracted the girl.
It was a sound of engines. Many engines - the majin lost interest in the clerk, walking towards the road to see what’s coming. At first, it was a cloud of road dust, visible from over the hill the city stood on, much larger than the vehicles which were making it. But soon enough, a dozen of choppers have appeared, with an ear-splitting roar of their engines. Riding them were twelve men, demons all - with various heights, from those as short as Nal to a towering, seven feet tall, some thin and spindly, the others broad and burly. Skin colours varied - yellow, gray, purple, green, with spikes and crests like the Imp man she met before in that forge, some with short, blocky heads, other with longer, thinner ones - a variety of all sorts of creatures and denizens of the demonlands. Armed with various weapons - one had a sword, another a thick, iron chain, one had a gnarly metal rod, another a club. Some had guns - she knew of those, but haven’t seen one until now, at least not on someone this close. This made her curious - what were these things like? Were they useful? Strong? That had to be checked at some point!
Probably sooner than she imagined. The biker gang rode down the street straight at her, shouting, taunting and throwing various things around, at the buildings - bricks, rocks and bottles with fire in them, those tended to ignite everything around them and cause panicked shouts if one fell through a window and crashed inside. But soon, the lot lost interest in closed, barricaded houses - because there was a short, gray person in the middle of the road, staring right at them. So obviously, the gang revved their engines, speeding up and turning with a roar of their bikes, making an impressively unified drift that stopped each of the bikes in a circle around the small majin, the demons laughing and high-fiving eachother at a perfect execution of their manouever.
“Got lost, little girl?” - asked one of them - a gray, long-faced man, with a slender, but muscular body, two spikes on each of the shoulders and unusually thick lips, curled into a scowl. Nal was about to answer - but didn’t get a chance. A chain whip the demon used cracked at her feet. “Get off boys! It’s fun time.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Of the twelve attackers, Nal sensed that two had any sensible modicum of strength - the rest were small fry. So those were the first she dealt with. One kick - and the broad, orange demon keeled over, clutching at his stomach and retching on the sidewalk, a series of three punches sent further two of them sprawling on the road. The fourth and fifth took a little more - Nal had to dodge a few hits and strike at them swiftly, because the remaining bandits actually fought together, rather than one by one like those bandits in the desert. This was different, more of a challenge, and deep down inside, the majin reveled in it, that revelry finding way to her lips - spread widely in a grin. Nevertheless, three punches and two kicks between the two have brought them low, one clutching his arm and groaning, the other - unconscious after his head struck one of the bikes. A little bit over half of them remained and they all attacked in unison - six of them hitting time and time and time again, while the seventh, the spindly, gray demon who attempted to whip Nal with his chain, used that weapon to lash at her.
The gray girl growled, feeling the sting of the weapon - even her rubbery flesh wasn’t entirely impervious to harm, and that weapon actually hurt, leaving marks. “No more miss nice majin.” she snarled out, before growing before the bunch - becoming easily as large and bulky as the first miscreant she had downed. With an enthusiastic, if angered, shout - the majin sent a punch, which thundered on the empty street, not only sending sixth of the dozen flying into a wall (crashing through one of the barred windows instead, his legs still dangling off of the display while the glass crashed and broke around the man), but with enough force to smack and stagger the demon’s partner in combat. That one has been kicked immediately, keeling over like his orange friend from earlier. Nal reached up to block a hit of a gnarly club, then another of the chain belonging to the raiders’ leader, letting that wrap around her wrist and using the leader himself like a flail, flinging three of his friends to the floor and causing the man to let go of his weapon, smashing into a wall and creating a small crater in it. That left just one demon - one of the two stronger ones.
As the majin turned, she immediately had to dodge - sudden ki blast right past her face almost struck and harmed her. Annoyed, Nal charged the man with her hands open, capturing his fists - and beginning to push, trying to get him to kneel, but the demon wasn’t about to take it lying down - arching his neck, he sent a vicious headbutt towards his opponent’s own face! And it did struck, her neck angling back… lengthening unnaturally, before it sprung right back like a slingshot pulled too far, her face ramming right back into her opponent’s. He staggered, reached out to the majin - then fell down, unconscious.
Grinning to herself, Nal was about to turn - and then got struck right in the stomach, with a vicious and powerful punch from the leader she ignored for a while too long. The majin gasped, coughing as the punch knocked the wind out of her, and as the surprisingly spindly demon pushed on, her giant form began to dissipate - muscles softened, body shrank, even the crest she had made out of the hair tendrils collapsed, the hairtacles flopping around her face. She had no time to react before the gray demon punched with Nal still atop his fist, ramming her into the same hole she had made with his body, letting the girl slip off of his fist and collapse within the hole.
“Alright, I admit” he snarled, the hand pulling back, energy focusing within the fist he clenched, focusing on it. “You gave more of a fight than I thought, but you’re as green as Old Daimao’s wrinkly arse. Little advice, for the future. Either learn to not ignore your enemies, or wait for someone more substantial to come along. Like, maybe… the Fist of the South Star? Hah!”
As the demon rambled, Nal rested a hand on her stomach, reforming it’s surface into the chiseled abs she usually sported there, and began using her power. While at the very same time, her eyes glowed bright green for a moment - and suddenly, she was whole again, rested as if that powerful strike never happened. Not only that, but as those eyes looked towards the demon’s charging fist - it suddenly stopped, and the triumphant roar as he made while punching turned into a surprised yelp, as the strike touched her stomach - and barely grazed the toned abdominal of the majin.
“Hey, thanks. Those are good advice and I’ll make sure to use them later. Well, one of them at least. I don’t really know many other people, let alone that Fist guy, but I’ll definitely try to learn about them and wait for them if they are around.” - the majin said, then grinned. As the demon staggered back, she threw a powerful kick to his face, causing the man to stagger and fall onto the street, where he quickly scrambled back to his feet. But Nal was rather livid now - this hurt. A lot. And she didn’t like being hurt, even if it did give her an opportunity to show off those mystic magicks. The next hit, she gave her all - and also made it with the star sword, the very blade forged with her magicked ore. Opening a huge gash in the demon’s chest, causing him to collapse right back onto the street, losing consciousness from shock. Huffing with annoyance, Nal cleaned the sword with the demon’s jacket, then sheathed it on her hip, as it should be. Then - kneeled down before the bleeding demon, using her magic knit his flesh. A little more practice!
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Soon enough, people started coming out of their homes as the commotion stopped, notably the shopkeep whose window still had one of the invaders unconscious in. They noticed the bandits were all beaten up and this tired, gray girl near them - beginning to cheer and rush to their would-be oppressors, to carry them all (and their bikes!) off somewhere. Probably to bring them to justice, as Nal thought, blissfully oblivious of what would happen to these people. She didn’t know this world, nor cared enough now that the justice has been dispensed. And, well… they attacked her first, so even if they lose some of their things, that’s fair enough. Thieves get stolen from and that is the most poetic kind of justice ever!
Nal spent plenty of time with the people, who asked her what happened (and balked at the news that she just beat up twelve guys with chains and weapons alone) and offered some help to the girl in finding what it was she needed. First on the list was a keffiyeh, like the one her new friend from the smithy had - that baron Atalan. She saw him use that to travel in the sands and it definitely looked fairly pretty while at it, so now she would borrow his idea and do the same thing. Quickly enough, one was found, in the colours of white, black and orange. Nal liked that, the orange gave her a little colour, as her clothing was mostly white and skin - gray. Some colour was always good. Secondly, Nal needed a thing to listen to music on - while humming songs on the way was fun enough, that music thing from Kiryu’s bike was too fun and she wanted to hear more of it. And soon, she was led by the locals to one of the stores which still had this sort of rare luxury, willing to part with it in return for some help in the store - and Nal being a rather active girl, she agreed and did help around. It was mostly carrying heavy stuff, which was kinda easy anyway, though she did spend almost an entire rest of the day on it. But, in the end, she was given the precious item she so craved - a small box they called a “radio”, with a big, blocky headset she could plug into that and put over her earholes, to listen to the music and people talking through it sometimes.
What was needed next was something to eat - because obviously, after beating people up, getting hurt and using so much power, she needed some food to make up for all the energy spent. And so, to a bar she went, sitting, chatting and ordering some food. The barkeep set a plate of some animal’s ribs before her, alongside local delicacies - some of the crops Atalan spoke of, as well as candied scorpions. Nal found that weird, but after trying one, the entire plate disappeared in a blink of an eye. While eating and drinking, she decided to learn something. And so, once the barkeep came, she asked a question that was wandering in her head even since the fight ended.
“Who is the Fist of the South Star?”
And the man began to spin a tale. Fist of the South Star, a man named Djirodoo, a namekian of the Demon clan - like most namekians around here, obviously. He wandered the wasteland of the Demonlands, as well as the simple desert of the Southlands, with no obvious goal nor any sense to his traveling pattern. But there was one thing that he always did - and that was fighting oppression. Be it raiders, a warlord’s army, some random robbers or what else have you, he always stood against them and absolutely, to quote the barkeeper, “wreck their ranks”, end quote. He was a man of a few words, rarely speaking to anyone, including the oppressors he has been demolishing, but also the people that were saved from siad oppressors. Always wandering, like a force of nature, one that brought doom to any and every evildoer.
This story made Nal wonder if that was the man she felt in the desert - but probably not, if he was indeed this unnoticeable, showing up out of nowhere and just razing armies at whim, he was probably really good at suppressing his power. And after all this, Nal had an urge to go and find him - and obviously to do that, she’d need to follow the trail of beaten up bandits and raiders. That was what she would do - once the food was finished and everything else taken care of. So obviously, she began the preparations, doing so by finishing off everything that was still left on her plate, vegetables, ribs and candied scorpions all. There was surprisingly little in terms of candy in the city, so she decided to order up another bag of those for later use.
Then, she began to prepare in the earnest. First on the list was to get some proper rest - she was tired after fighting and using her power. People wanted money for letting her sleep in the shoddy hotels there were around, but Nal decided to offer work in return for that. First, washing a lot of dishes in the kitchens, then mopping the floors and finally, folding and changing sheets on the bed covers. When she was finished, the place was clean like it probably hasn’t been in years! Feeling proud of that, the girl locked herself in the room she was given - and feel deeply asleep. In the morning, the majin went off to find supplies and rumours. Buying some food and what little candy was there, the gray gal asked around and learned that except these twelve that just got kicked in this town, there was another, larger group defeated further north, towards the southlands. A lead! Pulling her keffiyeh close around her mouth and turning the radio on, Nal set off, to find this namekian.
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If she was asked to describe the Demonlands in a single word, Nal would have had an easy time with it. It would be “brown”. Desert sands, walls, rocks, mountains off in the distance and even the fields were all littered with little more than that colour - at least to her perception of it. Everything seemed so dim and bleak in there - not like the Southlands and it’s yellow-ish colour, white cities and blue skies, everything here was so awfully brown from all the sandstorms and who knows what else. Though it might just have been the weather she was unlucky to find herself in.
Traveling with music on was much more fun - even if there were people talking in between the songs, those tidbits of what they were saying could be really interesting. She learned, for example, that there was a shortage of workers in one of the foundries and they needed help - and with her recently gained smithing experience, Nal could go and do that work no problem. Well… little problem maybe, forging one good sword was not at all a mark of an experienced blacksmith, but hey - as long as they didn’t want a masterpiece made, she could hit iron with a hammer or carry heavy things, like in that hotel not so long ago. It was definitely achievable! And they said something about a reward - not only getting paid, but also some limited edition plushie. Nal wasn’t exactly fond of plushies, but if it was rare, maybe it was special, and having special items could help her learn how this world worked. Since by now, she was almost sure this wasn’t the planet on which that mystic had imprisoned her on - none of the people she met and fought so far resembled that summoner who called her forth, nothing felt like it was there, and nobody was like that mystic either, now that she thought about it. Or maybe it just was a far away land from that place - if she wanted to hide something strong, she’d probably bury it far away too. It had to be either or.
The majin slowly traveled in the direction she was pointed at, sensing every once a while and trying to locate the elusive Fist man. She had come across people, talking with them and trading some of the candied scorpions for different sweets and supplies as the travel went on. Everyone met on the way have told her the same thing - the history of Djirodoo, the namekian (which, she was told, has been the actual name of the people she called the slug men) that wanders around and flattens whatever army or gang might be foolish or unlucky enough to come across the man. And that recently, something similar happened not so far away - she had also learned the news of her own heroic antics were being spread and attributed to the same man. This made her rather upset and as the girl explained to the merchant she’s heard that from that it wasn’t a namekian, but in fact, herself that did the thing, the man just laughed. Annoyed, she demonstrated her strength by lifting the car ( a “semi-truck” as he had called it) that he was carrying his goods in, carrying it a little bit down the road and leaving it there, so that the man had to run after her and get all tired. This amused her enough to award herself with a handful of candy and one scorpion, before traveling on. The city had to be reached.
And reached it eventually was. There were some broken windows in there, but little in terms of heroic pugilists. In the city, Majin Nal decided to wander around and ask for information, while also stocking up for the travel - water was needed, since there was very little on the desert and majins had to drink too. To get some, she had to help the people overseeing that water clean one of the huge tanks it was kept in - climb into the thing and scrub it thoroughly, bit by bit, until it was entirely spotless. Talking with some people about her music box revealed that she also needed something to power that, so she decided to get that as well - and in return for batteries that powered her little radio, the majin had to carry heavy boxes around, careful not to drop any and damage the things inside, then help the shop owner unpack them and put them back on the place. Nal also needed something for her eyes, since the sand was still annoyingly falling into them, slowing the travel down a lot. She found some goggles that people wore on deserts to keep the sand out, and to get them, the majin had to stand behind a counter all day, selling people things, making sure they pay the correct amount and wishing them a good day. At first, she loved that, but soon enough began to find it annoying, as people were either extremely rude or extremely stupid. Sometimes both.
Eventually, once she was prepared, with keffiyeh and the goggles covering the most of her face, Nal decided to travel on. She mused, briefly, over the idea of sleeping and eating in the town, but decided that finding this Fist person was more important. And so, the majin traveled on, wondering how it’ll be when she finally meets and trains under the powerful, clever hero, and- Voices. There were voices, of people talking, then of someone calling out. Nal shook her head, to chase away the distractions, and looked over - three men, one riding a big, tasty-looking bird. She decided to not eat the bird (yet), but instead approach. Maybe they knew something. Or maybe they had to be beaten up. She was about to find out - quickly rushing over to meet up with the bunch. "Hi! I'm Nal. What are you people up to?"
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Post by Koma on Nov 6, 2019 17:52:07 GMT -8
Koma had seen this creature- he wasn't sure if Majin really were 'men' or 'women' like other types of Demons were, before. In fact, she was yet again another person other than that silly duchess from the Pig Demon Duchies which had happened upon him while he was eating and challenged him to a spar. The son of a Saiyan was not exactly happy because of that, as part of him assumed that anyone he fought before would be back to fight him again at some point unless he put the fear of the gods into their hearts.
So while he had almost greeted the newcomer to their hunting party for the Fist of the South Star, he stopped his action to instead look at this young... woman? And glare for a moment. With a puff of his slightly round, boyish cheeks, he let out a sigh, before jabbing a finger in her direction. “You. You again. What are you doing here? Next thing you know that annoying princess of a girl from Orchestra Village will show up, too.”
He rolled his shoulders, hearing the crack and shaking his head for a moment before speaking to both of them at once.
“We were actually planning on hunting for him ourselves. To either fight and get the bounty on his head, or to see if he really is as masterful a martial artist that they say he is, in which case we aimed to get some training from him.”
The sword less Samurai tensed for a moment, before looking back down the valley and the mountain range and beginning to walk once again through it. The first step itself was important, and they had no real idea as to where the Fist of the South Star might be found or his hideout might be found, aside from that it might be somewhere in this mountain range because the radius of his appearances all seemed to circle around it.
If the grey skinned girl swung at him, he would be ready for it, but she didn't have the malicious personality of the so-called duchess of so and so village in the Pig Demon Duchies. He was rather skilled at dealing with strikes which he shouldn't have been able to sense, thanks to being able to sense ki and thanks to his fighting style after all. They did not call him Koma the Spinning Top for a lack of reason, after all.
He had an ally, and he did not think that the other human would join in on the grey skinned girl's side if this hunt for the Fist of the South Star actually broke out into a brawl before they moved forward, as well- so it made more sense to continue his task than to do anything else. They could join in and help if they wished.
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Post by darthlunchbox on Nov 8, 2019 13:24:50 GMT -8
Cade looked at the strange grey girl and then back at the man who was obviously a warrior. It seemed like he was an intense focused kind of fella. Cade could respect that. He tried to place his accent but couldn't figure out where the fella was from. Conversationally he asked, "So, where you from fella? I'm From the south Demon lands myself. Going around the world trying to build up power to protect the folks there. Kind of like the Fist does, funny enough. I'm hoping he can give me a few pointers to help me on the way." He let out a soft laugh.
He turned back to the grey girl and tentatively held his hand out, "Nal, call me Cade. Good to meet you. Seems you two know each other, huh?" He kind of pointed between the two of them to show he was talking about the warrior and her. He followed the other human, leading Boko along as he went. Looking back over his shoulder he waved the little grey girl on and called out, "I guess you can come with us if you're looking for the Fist of the South Star, Nal. We all seem to be going to the same place, we might as well band together. What are you anyhow, if you don't mind me askin'?"
Cade contentedly walked up the mountain, keeping his eyes out for signs of the fist. He wasn't really sure what to look for, exactly; but it was a very nice day and he was enjoying the walk. There was a coolness and freshness to the air as they climbed that you didn't get a lot of back in the desert and a scent of growing things all around. Lots of trees too, maybe he could find an apple tree up here and nab a few to eat while walking. He tried to shift his focus back to the job at hand; he knew Namekians didn't really need to eat food like normal folks. Maybe they would be best served by finding a good source of water? He shaded his eyes and looked up the mountain and spotted what looked like a stream high up on the mountain. He pointed it out to the others, "I know the Fist of the South Star is a Namekian; so he wouldn't need food. I see a good stream up yonder towards the top of the mountain, maybe that would be a good place to start?" He scratched Boko's head as he walked, eliciting a pleased warble from the ostrich.
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Post by Nal on Nov 9, 2019 2:03:31 GMT -8
Nal opened her mouth to answer Koma's question, but then, this new guy on his delicious bird spoke first. Actually, he seemed to have hopped off the bird and lead it - and all the staring this gray girl gave the bird may have been a little unnerving. But, fortunately for the bird, she decided to look at the people and talk with them instead. "I'm a majin and I'm actually looking for that Fist man too. I heard he is punching the lights out of everything around here and is really strong, so I want to learn from him, obviously, because if he is really that strong then he can teach me to be too. And I like being strong and mighty. One day, actually, I decided to be so strong that I will be able to punch hard enough to make myself a house in one of the mountains, because everyone has a house and I don't." the majin nodded sagely after the onslaught of words. However, the group wasn't spared her rambling for long. "And once we meet that man, I will train and then punch so hard that I will make myself a home in the rocks. Like, punch open a cave. And make some tables and beds and other things people have in homes... I will have to ask you guys what that is, I never saw a home from the inside" - Nal spoke and spoke, while at the same time, just absent-mindedly following the rest. Her rambling was far more absorbing than looking where they walk, so glad she was the rest was doing it for her.
Deciding to give the lot a moment to answer her questions... she was immediately deterred by something, blinking as she looked towards Cade. "No need for food? Do you mean the namekians don't eat? Like, at all? No wonder they're angry all the time... speaking of, are you gonna eat that?" - one last question was shot towards Cade, while the majin pointed at his ostrich, eyeing it curiously. Birds were food for her - and she really, really regretted that the huge bird she accidentally made in the desert shrunk and flew off. It had to taste great.
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Post by Koma on Nov 13, 2019 22:39:13 GMT -8
Koma was increasingly worried that the grey colored creature which he had now run into in two separate places was somewhat slow, at least in the manners of the world. Something about her mannerisms made him almost worried for his acquaintance, but he did not voice that as he listened to the two of them talk. Instead the half-Saiyan samurai simply continued to glare and keep his stern expression.
“You do know that there are simpler ways to make a house, and to have a house, right? And living alone is a lonely endeavor.” the wild haired warrior said to the Majin before turning to the three impromptu allies, who happened to meet at this seemingly spot and beginning to plan out the hunt itself.
With four people they could split up the territory more equitably, but first and foremost they would need to head up the mountain, to the highest mountain in the range and find a good spot on the mountain to take in a lay of the land. The Samurai knew this was the first aspect of any true battle, and as such while he silently thought on it and brooded, he became certain he should speak up.
“We need to find the highest point in this mountain range we can get to, then get a lay of the land. If the Fist of the South Star really is a Namekian and does not need food, then we should find a place where he could get plenty of fresh water and sunlight. Anyone who doesn't eat has to get energy somewhere.” the monks who had raised he and the others who would become the Bear Clan of Samurai had made sure they studied botany and herbalology as a matter of practical knowledge and survival.
Not even bothering to wait for a reply, the slate grey eyed man began to trudge in the direction of the highest mountain, so they could begin trying to climb its peak. He did not bother suppressing his power, if this warrior was someone who was as strong as the others seemed to think, he would have already picked up their power signatures and known they were here. He might even be preparing a trap for them.
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Post by darthlunchbox on Nov 14, 2019 10:10:35 GMT -8
Cade scratched at the side of his face, and looked at the grey lady as she told him what she was and answered, "A May-Jan? Never heard of such. As far as the Fist, my granpa Morita says he met him once when he was a boy. If'n you're looking for a strong teacher, he's the one. I'm looking for some pointers my own self." He listened to her talk of homes and felt a pang in his heart for her as he said, "One day maybe I can show you what a home looks like. My pa would let you come into ours. It ain't that much to look at, but it would give you an idea of what a home is like at least." He pointed up towards the fella they was following, "He's right, too. A house can be pretty lonesome if'n your one your home. A building don;t necassarily make a home."
They walked a little further and Cade started rubbing Boko's beak to comfort her as if she could hear the may-jan asking about eating her. He cleared his throat and patted the thin leather saddle on the ostrich's back as he said, "Boko is a riding ostrich, not an eatin' one. There are ones to eat, for sure, but my Boko would be tough and stringy. No good for eating since she was bred for long striding and endurance." He hoped that would deter the little may-jan from trying to eat his bird... he patted his mount again protectively.
They found a path and started making their way up the mountain side. The path was gently sloped at first but quickly started getting pretty steep. After they had walked for about 15 minutes up the path they came to a place where it evened out and flattened into a wide circular area. There was a rumbling sound and a sheer and solid wall of rock popped out of the ground, blocking the way forward. A disembodiedd voice sounded all around them, sounding strong and confident it said, "This is the first trial; if you would see me you must persevere and assert your will. Only when you reach the top will you be able to learn what you have come here to seek."
Cade turned and looked towards his companions, "Whelp, anyone got any bright idears? I guess we could try to punch our way through..." He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully and studied the wall.
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