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Post by Deleted on Feb 10, 2019 19:47:49 GMT -5
"You cannot squeeze blood from a stone!" His heel came crashing down upon the merchant's outstretched hand. A vicious pop filled the air, the unmistakable snap of fingers being broken. A wavering cry of pain erupted from the squat, squalid man. He squirmed to free his hand from beneath Brisk's foot, writhing in agony where he'd been knocked to the ground. The man's wife stood nearby, eyes wide in horror at the frost demon's cruelty. To the side of the rode lay an overturned cart. It had a rustic feel with its canvas covering stretched taut over the wooden wagon. Were it not for the hovering pods attached to its bottom to keep it afloat as they traveled, one would surmise it had come straight from an old pioneering age. Its contents lay strewn about the dusty road, splintered wood littering the path where the crates had fallen and shattered. "Such a strange sentiment, though frustratingly correct." The briefest of smiles touched his lips. "You, however, are not a stone."His tail snaked around the man's throat, lifting him from the ground. It cinched tight, closing off the man's airway. Feeble fingers, those that weren't broken, grasped desperately at his neck, but the man did not possess the strength to remove it. "You are but a worm."A crimson energy orb crackled to life in his hand. Brisk aimed his outstretched palm at the damaged cart, the wife's harried cries of distress falling upon his deaf ears. "Only upon the removal of what little worth you possess will you understand this pivotal life lesson." The orb grew larger, more menacing, more volatile. Red lightning trailed along its surface. "Do you understand, earthling? Which are you?" For the first time, Brisk met the merchant's terrified gaze. "Are you the stone, the worm, or the blood that shall seep from it?"The merchant fought and struggled, but to no avail. Just as it seemed Brisk would be forced to destroy their wares, a raspy cry met his ears. "Alright, alright! You can have it!" "Now, that's more like it." The tail unraveled from around his throat, dropping the man heavily to the ground. Brisk strolled toward the cart and away from the man, allowing his wife to come and console her ailing husband. Standing near the pile of broken crates, his eyes spotted his coveted prize. He reached down, clasping the old model scouter in his grasp. His smirk widened as he studied it for signs of damage. None could be seen. It was only recently that Brisk discovered how to properly sense ki to gauge the energy signatures of others, but it was still proving difficult for him to master. Thus, why he wanted another scouter. "You may go now." He didn't bother turning to address the couple, busy pressing a button on the scanner's side and studying the symbols and data that scrolled across the mini=HUD display. His standard military issue scouter had long since been abandoned for fear of harboring a tracking device by which any Imperial Patrolmen could find him. Staying under the radar was in his best interest for now.
tag: Lute, Cassava // word count: 526 / 526 |
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Post by Cassava on Feb 11, 2019 17:49:24 GMT -5
The days since Tiger Island had grown and become more bountiful. The Saiyan warrior, Cassava, was hard at work, training along the illustrious tiger of Earth, Tora. In a chance encounter the pair had met, battled, and became friends. Perhaps it was the good heart that Cassava could feel from within the martial artist that lulled her in. Promise of protecting not only the Earth, but the galaxy. Possibilities of leaving no one person vulnerable. Cassava wanted to make the war-torn galaxy into something that could resemble peace, if only for a fleeting moment. If only for a fraction of her lifetime. The Saiyan warrior and former Lieutenant in the Dominion had squandered and smashed many a life out of existence in her line of service. She had worked day in and day out to atone since then, still, it was hard to wash imaginary blood from your hands. Still, she tried. Spotted around the galaxy Cassava's most notable mention was traveling to Abbayor as a Saiyan diplomat and even providing aid to those less fortunate in the diseased and poverty-stricken lower levels of the planet. Alongside of that, she had helped a few others along the way, pulled a few cats from trees, and the like. Today was a break from training. Frankly, the woman felt as if she were coming down with some sort of sickness. A specific tickle itched her throat and occasionally she would have to wipe the leakage from her nose with a handkerchief. Other than that, she was out and about. Perhaps she would have to consider more modest clothing to keep herself from being vulnerable to the invading viruses and infections lurking in highly populace area. Alas, Cassava was still clad in her katchin accessories, their metallic sheen glimmering in the light as she flew through the sky. She was heading nowhere in particular and was mostly just waiting for some disaster or dinosaur to pop out of nowhere and start attacking. Alas, today was relatively quiet. Relatively. The woman's golden orbs intently were scanning the ground, taking note of anyone needing her aid. That's when she saw it. A frost demon, an odd sight, yes. In the vice-grip that was his tail, the husband struggled and gasped. His wife looked mortified. The entire scene resembled the perfect scenario of ordinary people needing help against someone extraordinary. This was a first. Cassava, despite her aims, had never been forced to battle or attack another to save a life. Unless you count that rabid racoon, she put out of it's misery last week. She stared from the sky, clearly in the sights of the frost demon, and his newly furnished scouter.
Lute @brisk || WC/PC: 447 |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 13, 2019 15:18:02 GMT -5
A shrill beeping emanated from the scouter.
"Huh?" He peered closely at the HUD, trying to gauge the numbers that scrolled along the screen. "Looks like it's detecting someone..."
Only problem was that the numbers continued to climb. 2,000... 25,000... 49,000... 82,000...
Brisk understood there were strong warriors in the cosmos. Even the late emperor himself was a galactic tier threat to be feared and respected, and he suspected his son Absolut would follow in his father's steps as well.
But to encounter such a being on this backwater planet...
One of the Z-Force members I've heard about? No way they'd be out in the middle of nowhere.
His jaw tensed, his free hand balling itself into a fist. It was just his luck one such figure would happen upon him at a time like this. He had no one to blame but himself—he'd had ample time to learn to properly utilize his ki in order to gauge the strength of others, without the aid of such a device.
Perhaps he'd grown lazy since he'd abandoned the Empire.
Taking a mental note to resume his vigorous training as soon as he was back aboard the safe confines of his stolen Arcosian space ship, Brisk steeled himself for the inevitable confrontation.
Turning around, he spied the intruder—an ebony haired woman floating high in the air above them. Her golden orbs locked onto his. Acid bile seemed to rise within his throat unbidden at the sight of her.
Filthy Saiyan.
Brisk rose from the ground, floating up to meet her in the air. Hands held behind his back, as much to present a non-threatening profile as much as hide the evidence of his theft, his cool facade was well in place as he observed the woman.
"I suppose you've drawn the assumption that I've harmed these people. You would be wrong." Deciding to play his only viable card, he revealed the scouter in his hand. "Call me nostalgic. This used to be my scouter, back when I was—" Thinking better of broaching the subject of his former Frieza Force connections to what could very well be a Dominion soldier, he opted for a different route.
"—served in a particular military."
Tossing the scouter into the air, his tail snaked around it, holding it firmly in his grasp. This was a casual way for him to free his hands, in case things devolved into a confrontation.
It always did with these brutish monkeys.
"I simply wanted an opportunity to bargain for it back. As I said—I'm nostalgic. This merchant refused my fair offer of galactic credits, and upon questioning his reasoning, he opted to slander me with a vicious racial slur."
Every word of it a lie. Every word of it sold upon his silver tongue.
"Alas, I was left with no recourse but to reclaim my treasured scouter against this man's will. In truth, he is lucky to have been left alive. I've killed far stronger for far less. Either way..."
His eyes narrowed at her.
"...your presence here is no longer required."
tag: Lute, Cassava // word count: 525 / 1,051
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Post by Cassava on Feb 13, 2019 21:51:30 GMT -5
Cassava hovered there for merely a moment until the frost demon finally caught on. His scouter fixated on her body, the look on the other's face not giving the Saiyan a clue about his thoughts. She folded her arms over her chest, covering her less than modest choice of an outfit. Suddenly, the frost demon shifted. His muscles became rigid, his body language screeching to a halt in terms of fluidity. Cassava took note, and slowly she began to descend towards the ground. It was at least 40 meters down, and her trip was rather lengthy to give her more control and time to access the situation she was in. What if this guy was suppressing his power level and he was some god, what if he surpassed her and she bit off more than she could chew. Being an analytical former militant, Cassava's mind was never at ease. Like a chess game she planed each move, mapped out her and her opponent's future moves, and tried her best to make an educated judgement based all evidence. It was the cleanest, and most precise way to be a soldier; and Cassava was once quite the soldier. Tap. Tap. Her katchin covered heels hit the ground before stirring up a bit of dust into the idle wind. The woman pointed an idle finger as the man spoke his peace. "Why do ya gotta assume I'm assumin' if I'm not assumin'. Tends to make me assume," Cassava begrudged. Her golden eyes looked around "Oh, so that is your scouter. I see I see," Cassava's eyes traveled with the scouter before it finally came to rest in the grip of his powerful tail. Her arms fell to her side as she let out an exasperated sigh. At first the man's story seemed innocent enough. Then it shifted. Darker and darker the word began to shift and warp. What began as the plight of a veteran aiming to obtain a memoir of his history, Cassava could probably sympathize. However, upon hearing that he was ready to kill the man over something no fault of his own, the Saiyaness looked unamused. "You speak as if you have some sort of superiority complex. However, your body language is defensive. I'm not here to hurt you, just make sure you're not being a clown. You hurt him, you should really compensate him for those medical bills, ya know?" Cassava let a sarcastic bout of convincing slip from her plump lips. Clearly, she knew the frost demon wasn't going to offer recourse for his moment of rage. No, if anything he would challenge the woman, and die. "Tell me, what brings you to Earth? You stay here?"
Lute @brisk || WC: 449 | 896 |
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