Refund? There ain't no refunds! (Solo)(MW)(WIP)

It was a damned shame. Crimson walked through the streets of the city that day, wearing his trenchcoat, his long tail hidden as a belt around his waist. His hair was tied back with an extra strength hairband, and just had the look of a wild ponytail, swaying behind him as he stormed down the sidewalk. See, Crimson had to do this. He had to hide who he truly was because the Earthlings had developed a hatred of his people and to him? That was okay, he didn't care. However, it could be detrimental to his mission which was to gain the power he needed to be a force of nature if they found out he was a Saiya-jin.

He was discreet, he could suppress his nature. All he had to do was stay out of the full moon light, because he knew the moment those brute waves hit him...he would turn into that raging beast and likely destroy this entire city. Once again, detrimental. He didn't need any "heroes" confronting him, not just yet. 

His brown eyes would dart back and forth under the black shades covering them, taking in the surroundings he'd come upon. The cool air around the warrior would be held at bay by the thick coat he wore, but nothing could hold the rain at bay as the grey sky began to shed tears. In a way, this was symbolic of the dark warrior's arrival on the most popular planet in the galaxy. Most populated.

His Scouter would pick up a few remarkable power levels as he moved down the street. None too out of the ordinary, mostly the karate masters frequenting the schools. Then there were those ditzy high school students. Lazy asses. They obviously didn't train on a daily basis, no. Not like him. Crimson was a man who knew he has to keep in top fighting form and this was due to the fact of a simple mission he'd given himself.

As a child, Crimson was known as Carva. But his father gave him this name before sending him away to a small asteroid about the size of a small planet over in another system. He'd been sent there in hopes that he would simply die, his father having been an elite but showing great shame in his son's low class power. Crimson knew this. He'd found this out, so he'd train hard every day to prove those of his race wrong.

So that would bring him to purchase Saibamen seeds, and attempt to use an old training method used by those same people. For the same ones who would shun him would be the very ones who made him powerful, leading him to the Saiyan Outpost where he would face off against a beautiful hybrid named Peppra. For what it was worth, the girl was a good unsuspecting training partner. But...it wasn't enough. He needed more. His addiction was one all Saiya-jins shared, an addiction to battle.

Which brings us back to the weak seeds he'd come upon, or what he thought were weak seeds. He'd felt his anger burning within him, the Saiba produced not giving him the challenge he so desired, boring him. He now sought out the street vendor, a young man who would catch an ass whipping had he found him. Honestly? He should be used to this firey temper by now, hell, he should expect it of himself. However, he still couldn't get over the fact that once the flame was lit then it just couldn't...no wouldn't be stopped. The fire of his anger would consume all.

He stopped in his tracks, smelling the scent of burning tobacco infiltrating his nostrils. This burned the insides of the Saiya-jin's keen nose, but he knew this smell quite well. Same brand of cigarettes. Full flavored, most like king sized...shorts. Crimson narrowed his eyes and followed the smell of the cigarette, and finally saw him standing there. "You little con artist..." his words came out, a low growl.

Standing on the corner of the abandoned street that day was that very same little punk. This kid had the "scene" look about him, what with his ripped blue jeans, white ashirt, blue dress shirt. His hair...it matched his shirt, the color of a beautiful tropical ocean. The kid threw his cigarette down and looked at Crimson, the angry Saiya-jin glowering back. 

"Ya...dude, can I help you?" he would ask. He knew full well who this warrior standing before him was, yet he had no idea what he was. To him, the man was just a human male, looking for Saiba-seeds to use in his training regimen. But once he'd gotten Crimson''s money, he'd thought that was it.

Unfortunately for Little Jimmy, he was wrong. Dead wrong.

(More coming)