Post by Deleted on Jan 1, 2017 19:00:50 GMT -5
(Power Level: 10,267)
(Medium Weights Equipped: 5,134)
It wasn't long after seeing the Outpost in ruins that the warrior known as Jicama would branch out into the world. His pride was hurt, for the second time in his life and he just couldn't bear to let that happen again. He needed to get away for a bit and go to train in different areas, so of course he chose a place where he knew the landscape would be a harsh environment, at least when it came to the weather. He'd choose to go to the Frozen North of the Earth.
The gravity of the small blue marble was nothing like that of Natto, but he could find places to train that perhaps would benefit him. Jicama's weighted boots made trudging through the ankle deep snow even more deep, the wind howling as it cut his skin. For a moment, he cursed himself. How could he had not decided to dress warmer? True, he was a big, tough Saiya-jin but this weather would be unlike anything he'd seen on his home world.
The sky above him was filled with grey clouds, and the wind was a biting cold on his bare arms. He trudged through the snow, grumbling angrily as flecks of moisture pelted his face. He'd chosen a bad time to decide to take a walk, that much was for sure. Of course, he COULD fly, but where was the fun in that?
So far, the blizzard hadn't let up. He kind of had a feeling that it wouldn't. After all, the area was known for being prone to blizzards. This came as no surprise to him.
Jicama felt his arms beginning to tingle as he moved through the snow, his vision blurred by the unprotected air drying out his eyeballs. Suddenly, he felt his knees beginning to shake slightly, and finally, he fell to a knee. Fighting off the exhaustion brought on by the biting cold was becoming too much for the would be Elite, especially since he hadn't eaten in three days.
Darkness would soon overcome the Saiya-jin as he succumbed to the freezing winds, dropping face first into the snow with a dull thud and a crackle.
Warmth? What was this? The sounds of crackling fire would awaken the Saiya-jin warrior, and he'd feel himself pulled back from the brink of a cold, sad death amongst the snowy peaks of the Northern mountains.
Blinking his brown eyes, he'd find that everything was blurred as if he'd just gotten away from a night of binge drinking. Blinking, he sat up, a straw mat underneath him scratching the bare parts of his skin as the heavy blankets fell backwards.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he shook his head and groaned. "Ugggggggghhhhh..." he'd sigh softly and turn himself so that his feet would touch the floor. His weighted boots felt especially heavy in his weakened state, but the warrior wasn't one to complain.
"Well, good to see you're awake..." the voice he heard was old, rickety. It was harsh as the words came out, hanging in the air. "...ya damned fool. Tell me, is it common for Saiya-jins to go outside wandering during a blizzard, or are you just that damned stupid?"
As Jicama's eyes would focus more, he'd see an older gentleman standing in front of him. The old man looked quite frail, dressed in his brown animal skins and perched on a cane. He was obviously a human, his oily grey hair laying flat against his head, a full bear hanging down to his abdomen.
Jicama was taken aback by the old man's boldness as he insulted our anti-hero. Of course, Jicama was in no position to argue. After all, he'd starved himself for three days and nearly died of hypothermia. So naturally, he simply asked. "Who the hell do you think you are, old man? You know, I am perfectly capable of killing you, if need be..."
The old man hobbled over to a pot, from which steam rose. He'd stir the pot and casually remark. "Somehow I doubt that, lad. I can't even feel your energy right now to be frank. You're lucky my dogs smelled you, or else you'd be laying dead in the snow."
(Jicama is at his weakest due to starvation, therefore flavouring his PL as 10.)
"Hrmf..." the Saiya-jin held his chin up proudly. "...you obviously have no idea of what yer dealin' with, you old fart. I am a Saiya-jin Elite! Who are you to sa-" -cough cough- as he'd try and stand, he'd fall to one knee. His stomach would growl...no...roar...he was hungry. Obviously, he was too proud to admit it.
The old man narrowed his eyes as he stirred the stew, filled with nutritious beef, carrots, and potatoes. Salt...pepper...chili powder..."You sir, are an interesting case indeed. Though you know that at the moment you couldn't hurt a fly, you still put on a brave face. Typical Saiya-jin warrior."
Jicama glowered at the old man. "You obviously know us better than you let on, Old Man. But make no mistake about it, I can hurt whomever I damned well please."
"Oh really? Well, if you hurt me then who will feed you?"
"Tch...I don't want your shitty Earth food..."
"Are you sure? Your kind doesn't do well on an empty stomach, plus I do believe that you'll find the failsafe on your tail to be quite the hinderance. In any event, you really SHOULD eat. You'll catch your death if you don't." The wisdom in his voice was as calm as a still pond. So calm in fact that the old man seemingly had no fear of the potentially deadly Saiya-jin who sat there, grumbling.
Jicama sat there, head bowed tiredly. Deep, deep down he knew that the old man was right, but as stated before, he was too proud to admit it. Finally, the smell of the food began to permeate his nostrils and he'd let curiosity get the best of him. "Fine...if I am to eat, then what have you made human? What is that...delicious...smell?"
The Old Man simply whistled a tune as he pulled two bowls from a nearby stack. Jicama would take note of everything in the quaint little shack as the man quietly ladled soup into the bowls. Looking around, Jicama would see trophies scattered about the dark shed, furs hanging from the rafters, boars' heads mounted on the walls. This man was obviously a hunter.
Old Man finally walked over and held a bowl out to Jicama, who would take the bowl in his hands and set it on his lap. Old Man answered the Saiya-jin. "It's pork stew. Got it on a hunt this mornin' when I found you."
Jicama looked down for a moment, his thoughts going to the past few hours...or had it been days? He shook his head and then watched the Old Man as he ate...he couldn't be sure the human wasn't trying to poison him. He had just met the man, and knew how his kind felt about Saiya-jins.
Then again, was this man different? Was he not Xenophobic? After all, Old Man had saved his life. He'd begin to eat the soup slowly upon seeing the Old Man doing so and would make small talk. "So...you see my tail as a hindrance?"
"Far from see it as one, as much as know it is one. I've seen even the mightiest of your kind fall from a simple tug of the tail." The old hunter would go on to explain. He narrowed his eyes. "You do realize that you cannot become powerful unless you do away with all weakness, right?"
"I...you do have a point..." the Elite smirked. "...you humans are smarter than I thought. You know, I have tried to train the weakness away. That's why I came out here to the frozen wastes...it's the harshest place on Earth. Of course my power should have increased exponentially if I trained here, but..."
It was as if Old Man knee exactly what the young Saiya-jin was thinking. He knew...secretly he'd watched the Saiya-jin, dipping his tail in the coldest of ice water. He'd seen him throw off ki blasts just to zanzoken and appear before the blast and smack it back and forth with his tail.
The Old Man looked at Jicama as the Saiya-jin wolfed down his second bowl of beef soup. He knew what food could do for a Saiya-jin, and Old Man had always been kind hearted. Even with the dangerous ape people. Watching Jicama devour a third bowl, the Old Man smirked. "Don't you feel it yet, kid?"
"Tch! I am no child, Old Man. I am thirty fi-"
The Old Man would look at Jicama flatly. "I am one hundred and five. Your point? Listen, kid..."
"...Jicama...name's Jicama."
"Right..." the Old Man stood, hobbling over to the Saiya-jin with his cane. Raising the cane, he'd poke the Saiya-jin's tail.
Jicama's eyes went wide and he swatted the cane away. "What the hell are you doing?! That's..." he'd noticed something...his tail...it didn't hurt. As charred and sore as it was from his training, it didn't hurt. He looked on in surprise. "...it doesn't hurt...but...I..."
"It is no good to have a powerful machine if one does not provide it fuel, Jicama. You may not be liked for what your people did here, but you are a Saiya-jin. You are a war machine, and soon you will have an opportunity to improve at least your own public image."
It made perfect sense. He'd trained his tail weakness for three days straight without eating...and at his age, he should have known it. But now that he'd rested and eaten, he felt his training taking it's effect. He, as stubborn as he was, nodded in agreement. "You're right..." but he was slightly confused. What did the old man mean?
Old Man smirked, and then went deftly serious. "Good to see you understand. As I have said, soon you will have a chance to clear your own name. Soin, you will meet a group of people...and they will benefit you greatly. But you must be willing to listen..."
"...I can do that...but when will I meet them?"
"Within the next week. But until then, I need you to stay here...gain your full strength. They are all much more powerful than you are in this state and you need to be able to keep up." The old man would explain as he cleaned up the mess from dinner.
Jicama found himself laying back on the cot once more as his thoughts went to the people he would meet. The Saiya-jin in him wanted to yell and demand answers...but deep down, something told our anti hero that he should be patient.
Soon, Jicama would find himself once again drifting off to sleep, so comfortable amongst the fire blazing. Soon...he would begin snoring.
What did this premonition mean?
(Medium Weights Equipped: 5,134)
It wasn't long after seeing the Outpost in ruins that the warrior known as Jicama would branch out into the world. His pride was hurt, for the second time in his life and he just couldn't bear to let that happen again. He needed to get away for a bit and go to train in different areas, so of course he chose a place where he knew the landscape would be a harsh environment, at least when it came to the weather. He'd choose to go to the Frozen North of the Earth.
The gravity of the small blue marble was nothing like that of Natto, but he could find places to train that perhaps would benefit him. Jicama's weighted boots made trudging through the ankle deep snow even more deep, the wind howling as it cut his skin. For a moment, he cursed himself. How could he had not decided to dress warmer? True, he was a big, tough Saiya-jin but this weather would be unlike anything he'd seen on his home world.
The sky above him was filled with grey clouds, and the wind was a biting cold on his bare arms. He trudged through the snow, grumbling angrily as flecks of moisture pelted his face. He'd chosen a bad time to decide to take a walk, that much was for sure. Of course, he COULD fly, but where was the fun in that?
So far, the blizzard hadn't let up. He kind of had a feeling that it wouldn't. After all, the area was known for being prone to blizzards. This came as no surprise to him.
Jicama felt his arms beginning to tingle as he moved through the snow, his vision blurred by the unprotected air drying out his eyeballs. Suddenly, he felt his knees beginning to shake slightly, and finally, he fell to a knee. Fighting off the exhaustion brought on by the biting cold was becoming too much for the would be Elite, especially since he hadn't eaten in three days.
Darkness would soon overcome the Saiya-jin as he succumbed to the freezing winds, dropping face first into the snow with a dull thud and a crackle.
Warmth? What was this? The sounds of crackling fire would awaken the Saiya-jin warrior, and he'd feel himself pulled back from the brink of a cold, sad death amongst the snowy peaks of the Northern mountains.
Blinking his brown eyes, he'd find that everything was blurred as if he'd just gotten away from a night of binge drinking. Blinking, he sat up, a straw mat underneath him scratching the bare parts of his skin as the heavy blankets fell backwards.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he shook his head and groaned. "Ugggggggghhhhh..." he'd sigh softly and turn himself so that his feet would touch the floor. His weighted boots felt especially heavy in his weakened state, but the warrior wasn't one to complain.
"Well, good to see you're awake..." the voice he heard was old, rickety. It was harsh as the words came out, hanging in the air. "...ya damned fool. Tell me, is it common for Saiya-jins to go outside wandering during a blizzard, or are you just that damned stupid?"
As Jicama's eyes would focus more, he'd see an older gentleman standing in front of him. The old man looked quite frail, dressed in his brown animal skins and perched on a cane. He was obviously a human, his oily grey hair laying flat against his head, a full bear hanging down to his abdomen.
Jicama was taken aback by the old man's boldness as he insulted our anti-hero. Of course, Jicama was in no position to argue. After all, he'd starved himself for three days and nearly died of hypothermia. So naturally, he simply asked. "Who the hell do you think you are, old man? You know, I am perfectly capable of killing you, if need be..."
The old man hobbled over to a pot, from which steam rose. He'd stir the pot and casually remark. "Somehow I doubt that, lad. I can't even feel your energy right now to be frank. You're lucky my dogs smelled you, or else you'd be laying dead in the snow."
(Jicama is at his weakest due to starvation, therefore flavouring his PL as 10.)
"Hrmf..." the Saiya-jin held his chin up proudly. "...you obviously have no idea of what yer dealin' with, you old fart. I am a Saiya-jin Elite! Who are you to sa-" -cough cough- as he'd try and stand, he'd fall to one knee. His stomach would growl...no...roar...he was hungry. Obviously, he was too proud to admit it.
The old man narrowed his eyes as he stirred the stew, filled with nutritious beef, carrots, and potatoes. Salt...pepper...chili powder..."You sir, are an interesting case indeed. Though you know that at the moment you couldn't hurt a fly, you still put on a brave face. Typical Saiya-jin warrior."
Jicama glowered at the old man. "You obviously know us better than you let on, Old Man. But make no mistake about it, I can hurt whomever I damned well please."
"Oh really? Well, if you hurt me then who will feed you?"
"Tch...I don't want your shitty Earth food..."
"Are you sure? Your kind doesn't do well on an empty stomach, plus I do believe that you'll find the failsafe on your tail to be quite the hinderance. In any event, you really SHOULD eat. You'll catch your death if you don't." The wisdom in his voice was as calm as a still pond. So calm in fact that the old man seemingly had no fear of the potentially deadly Saiya-jin who sat there, grumbling.
Jicama sat there, head bowed tiredly. Deep, deep down he knew that the old man was right, but as stated before, he was too proud to admit it. Finally, the smell of the food began to permeate his nostrils and he'd let curiosity get the best of him. "Fine...if I am to eat, then what have you made human? What is that...delicious...smell?"
The Old Man simply whistled a tune as he pulled two bowls from a nearby stack. Jicama would take note of everything in the quaint little shack as the man quietly ladled soup into the bowls. Looking around, Jicama would see trophies scattered about the dark shed, furs hanging from the rafters, boars' heads mounted on the walls. This man was obviously a hunter.
Old Man finally walked over and held a bowl out to Jicama, who would take the bowl in his hands and set it on his lap. Old Man answered the Saiya-jin. "It's pork stew. Got it on a hunt this mornin' when I found you."
Jicama looked down for a moment, his thoughts going to the past few hours...or had it been days? He shook his head and then watched the Old Man as he ate...he couldn't be sure the human wasn't trying to poison him. He had just met the man, and knew how his kind felt about Saiya-jins.
Then again, was this man different? Was he not Xenophobic? After all, Old Man had saved his life. He'd begin to eat the soup slowly upon seeing the Old Man doing so and would make small talk. "So...you see my tail as a hindrance?"
"Far from see it as one, as much as know it is one. I've seen even the mightiest of your kind fall from a simple tug of the tail." The old hunter would go on to explain. He narrowed his eyes. "You do realize that you cannot become powerful unless you do away with all weakness, right?"
"I...you do have a point..." the Elite smirked. "...you humans are smarter than I thought. You know, I have tried to train the weakness away. That's why I came out here to the frozen wastes...it's the harshest place on Earth. Of course my power should have increased exponentially if I trained here, but..."
It was as if Old Man knee exactly what the young Saiya-jin was thinking. He knew...secretly he'd watched the Saiya-jin, dipping his tail in the coldest of ice water. He'd seen him throw off ki blasts just to zanzoken and appear before the blast and smack it back and forth with his tail.
The Old Man looked at Jicama as the Saiya-jin wolfed down his second bowl of beef soup. He knew what food could do for a Saiya-jin, and Old Man had always been kind hearted. Even with the dangerous ape people. Watching Jicama devour a third bowl, the Old Man smirked. "Don't you feel it yet, kid?"
"Tch! I am no child, Old Man. I am thirty fi-"
The Old Man would look at Jicama flatly. "I am one hundred and five. Your point? Listen, kid..."
"...Jicama...name's Jicama."
"Right..." the Old Man stood, hobbling over to the Saiya-jin with his cane. Raising the cane, he'd poke the Saiya-jin's tail.
Jicama's eyes went wide and he swatted the cane away. "What the hell are you doing?! That's..." he'd noticed something...his tail...it didn't hurt. As charred and sore as it was from his training, it didn't hurt. He looked on in surprise. "...it doesn't hurt...but...I..."
"It is no good to have a powerful machine if one does not provide it fuel, Jicama. You may not be liked for what your people did here, but you are a Saiya-jin. You are a war machine, and soon you will have an opportunity to improve at least your own public image."
It made perfect sense. He'd trained his tail weakness for three days straight without eating...and at his age, he should have known it. But now that he'd rested and eaten, he felt his training taking it's effect. He, as stubborn as he was, nodded in agreement. "You're right..." but he was slightly confused. What did the old man mean?
Old Man smirked, and then went deftly serious. "Good to see you understand. As I have said, soon you will have a chance to clear your own name. Soin, you will meet a group of people...and they will benefit you greatly. But you must be willing to listen..."
"...I can do that...but when will I meet them?"
"Within the next week. But until then, I need you to stay here...gain your full strength. They are all much more powerful than you are in this state and you need to be able to keep up." The old man would explain as he cleaned up the mess from dinner.
Jicama found himself laying back on the cot once more as his thoughts went to the people he would meet. The Saiya-jin in him wanted to yell and demand answers...but deep down, something told our anti hero that he should be patient.
Soon, Jicama would find himself once again drifting off to sleep, so comfortable amongst the fire blazing. Soon...he would begin snoring.
What did this premonition mean?
~End~
1858 Words
1858 Words
