Post by Deleted on Dec 27, 2016 0:58:19 GMT -5
(Key: Spoken - Thought. The musical piece used is intended to go along with the training. As the tempo picks up, so does Jicama's intensity. Use your imagination.)
It's quiet today. As usual, the man known as Jicama is the first one up around the sanctuary of the Outpost. He'd come here a few years ago following a dispute with direct contact with the Government of Natto. Jicama is a tall, strong looking male with a mullet of bluish black, spiky hair and the scars of battle covering his face and body. What a body it is. It's obvious that he works out and eats right, but can that really be said of any Saiya-jin? They will eat anything, after all.
Slipping on his black jacket, he steps out into the cool winter air, and walks with a proud stride toward the courtyard, the general training area of the outpost. Once there, he stops dead center and looks around, his dark brown eyes shining in the burgeoning sunlight which has now begun to consume the darkness.
His tail sways behind him irritably and he yawns, scratching his jawline. He was still tired, there was no doubt about that. But he had to continue his training because he knew that at any moment, there would be a warrior who would challenge his power. He'd seen it happen many times in the past. He knew that it never hurt to be prepared.
His aura wasn't necessarily anything to write home about right now. He was an elite...but he hadn't reached his full potential. However, as he began to power up and practice his katas, pebbles would rise from the ground beneath him.
His movements weren't lightning quick in this state, but his movements were deliberate. They were aimed at some invisible opponent, and as he practiced, his power would waiver and fluctuate.
"Ssssss..." he thrusted his arm out slowly as he exhaled, his open palm containing his energy as it slid down into his hand like flowing water. As he'd draw his fist back, his power would flow back into his shoulder and he'd direct it into his left leg as he lifted it, and extended it...fully straight. He'd bend his knee a couple of times and kick the air, focusing to keep his balance.
Lowering his left leg, he would pivot on it with his right foot slicing the air. "Hah!" And upon landing, he'd drop on his pivot leg and sweep the ground, dust floating upwards as he himself stood straight, fists beginning to piston the air. Each quick jab would send a slight shock wave through the air as he held back his true power slightly, just enough not to throw blasts forward.
Sweat began to pour down his brow as he trained, but he couldn't help but have a strange feeling. The Saiya-Jin warrior felt as if he were being watched, but he continued his rigorous training regimen. This rage that filled the mysterious warrior would be what fueled him, as with each passing glance he would see the destruction wrought by the attackers not long ago.
Crumbling pillars, dilapidated houses that he'd helped to build, they were falling apart. And knowing about what had happened when the minions attacked the outpost made the Saiya-jin warrior see red.
How could this happen under his watch!? He was an elite, damn it!
He growled after flipping through the air and fired off a few precise shots, striking clay pots hanging from what trees were left standing. A few trees would fall as he did this, the force of his shots becoming increasingly stronger as his rage built.
Not only had he failed, but those fools...they were more powerful than him. He couldn't stand for it!
His thoughts ran wild as his fists shocked the air before him, heart pounding fast and hard like a drum. Tch. Those guys hit the outpost out of nowhere. Hell, they nearly destroyed it! What kind of bullshit was that?! When I made this my home, I did so with the intention of protecting it! Gah, what the hell happened?! I should have been able to keep this place standing! Am I this much of a failure!?
As his anger intensified, it showed in his spike in power. Though he felt the pain coarsing through his shoulders, so weighed down by his weighted jacket, he pressed harder than before. His chest glistened in the morning sun, warming the warrior. But his Saiya-jin blood did boil so that he didn't need this warmth, his ruggedly handsome, battle scarred face a blood red color.
His burning rage would manifest itself in a blazing white aura and he would spin with a series of fast kicks. His thoughts continued to race through his mind, thoughts of the past that he'd once been able to put back in his mind but would come flooding back as his eyes began to burn. We're these....tears? Was this the height of his power!? Where was his PRIDE?!
"HAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" His yell shook the very heavens as he pushed his taut body as hard as he could, muscles bulging against the Saiya-jin's tattooed skin. What built in scouts around the compound, in the cameras, would go haywire as he drew on the well of power within him.
Every bone in his body would ache, his heart would skip beats as he tried to force himself past his limits. His dark eyes would take on a dull glow, aura licking the air like an inferno. Suddenly, his aura faded...and he began to stumble a bit...
"Hah....hah...hah..." he panted, trying to keep his footing. Finally, the old gunslinger took a knee and looked at the ground..."...damn it...how could this possibly be my limit? I was an elite back on Natto...and now? I can barely...barely...stand..." despite the aches in his body, he tried to stand once more...but...
He only found darkness as his exhausted body hit the cool ground with a loud thud. The warrior had pushed himself to is limit...but would he ever be able to break it?
To be continued.
