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Events
Universe 6 Event: Galactic World Tournament
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[Thread Power Level: 346.761] [Power Level: 268.353] [Flashback]
A plentiful of hours before the arrival of the Saiyans and Caesar on Earth, it was a day like any other on the blue marble that was known as Planet Earth, and as usual, it was just another day for the Earthling Saiyan too that lived nearby the Southern Island. He had not too long since taken up the title of Kamesennin-- Turtle Hermit. He was the Master of the Turtle School and supposedly, while he didn’t look much like a Hermit, he had genuinely accomplished mastery of the school in a short period, but he was sure that no knowledge would have brought him to his maximum potential. He needed to get even stronger if he wanted to reach levels of strength that people like Natto and Tomoroko had accomplished to wield before.
The power itself of the form that came next to the regular Super Saiyan was one difficult to accomplish as standard training wouldn’t usually do the trick; he could only think of gravity training to perhaps push him that far but he doubted it would have been enough. Maybe his mind itself had to lose its track before he could even tap into that power but, he was reasonably sure that it wasn’t impossible to unlock it.
On the other hand, he was sure he could have mastered it relatively easy in comparison to the first level of the Super Saiyan form. It was just like when you learned how to ride a bike, it was almost impossible to forget it, and if anger was the issue, he could have probably subdued such feelings without too much effort.
“Hehe. Reminds me I switched back to my base form when I first tried to master the Super Saiyan form!”
Cornatto’s thoughts resonated in his mind as he let out a chuckle and carelessly walked through a crowd of people. The man had recently heard of a tournament being held, for some reason, he felt like joining; by what he could tell, it was something that hadn’t attracted the attention of the strongest out there in the universe. He guessed everyone had better things to do, nor could he blame them. It looked like there were more problems than ever recently but he knew it would have been way too easy.
The Earthling Saiyan thought he ought to give it a try, either way, at best he might just end up feeling a little tad disappointed. It wasn’t like he could blame the handful of Earthlings that had come here to participate, it was refreshing to see there were so many people interested in the Martial Arts but so little knew their real potential and limits they could break; Humans were genuinely gifted just as much as Saiyans could be! Perhaps not to exaggerate it, but he had met humans stronger than Saiyans and even hybrids that were capable of using some incredible power!
It was a shame that most of them didn’t seem interested or not aware at all that there was something more than muscle training. At a certain point, it was more a matter of energy than actual strength which played an important role in combat. After all, you could have as much energy as you’d like but if you didn’t know how to use it, it would be useless. Not to mention the fact that most Earthlings didn’t have that same fighting drive unless they-- for some reason-- naturally leaned towards it. It was normal. There were even Saiyans that didn’t wish to fight. It was weird to imagine it, but there were exceptions everywhere.
Some Earthlings too were prone to combat more than some others. Each one of them for their reasons; whether it to be for enjoyment or perhaps to protect their planet. At times it was something as silly as showing off, which, by all means, Saiyans did that too! But not much to show off their looks or style, but rather their power! It was a lot more about how strong you were, not how cool it looked.
Cornatto himself usually preferred strong people over weak ones-- both in power level and spirit! He could tell some were just naturally shy or whatever, but he was all for a fight against someone who had the passion for combat. It was just stronger than him! That was why he had also joined the tournament; to find someone that would be strong enough to stand up against the Earthling Saiyan. He believed that somehow, he’d have found someone capable of fighting him or well, maybe with the potential! It was more of a feeling than anything else, but he wanted to believe it.
As such, the Earthling Saiyan registered to the tournament and was quickly welcomed in as most people could tell that he looked just like a martial artist. The Saiyan had put on his typical outfit; blue gi with a white obi, pink wristbands, ochre pants, and black kung fu shoes.
Registering wasn’t too difficult at all, anyone could do it! Now the real part was supposed to be the preliminary, but each one of Cornatto’s opponents went down like nothing, that until he got to the actual fun part, his first match in the tournament. The Earthling Saiyan stepped out of the participant's lobby as soon as he was alerted that his time had come, the announcer lifted the microphone up to his lips as he gladly raised his voice to the crowd, for their heart and ears’ content.
“Ladies and gentleman! In this next match, we have a new face but also one that represents one of the most traditional martial arts school that ever existed; Cornatto, the Turtle Hermit!”
Cornatto smiled and tightened his hands around his belt as he walked on the mat. “Man, that was a little bit too much just to introduce me, haha…” - he thought to himself as he stepped into the ring and eagerly waited for his opponent.
Memories; how bizarre they were, immune to one's aptitude of suppression. If so desperately chosen, of course, memories could be extinguished—but only impermanently; for, memories were embedded there, far within the osseous matter of any being, incapable of extinction. Not ever could they abandon one's bones, as thy sea's salt could not abandon thee; and much like a sea and its lachryma of sodium, memories become a part of one. Never shall they disappear, despite believing wholeheartedly so that they have; and for a maiden who could feel as deeply as the Earth, there in her heart of domineering humanity—the memories of him, they never disappeared. No matter how hard this half-earthling, half-saiyaness endeavored, the male was there, still embedded far within the maiden's very bones. Forgotten, had he been. But only...temporarily.
. . .
From aside the superior region of a voluptuous bosom descended two, ecru arms of a helical maiden, the lithe dame momentarily lowering oneself at the hips with a torpid rate of control; endeavoring to pursue a forward fold stretch. The taut abdominals that veiled this woman's lilliputian waist contracted inward as she hung with slack, neutralizing one's back as outstretched limbs sought for the algid veneer of timbered flooring. Upon compressing both palms amongst the wooden loam to increase the flexibility of one's hamstrings, a vexatious pain blossomed abaft the matron's patellae, eventually ascending amid the single tendon and segueing into the gluteus tie-in. Peering betwixt bare limbs of gait as one pushed further aback thou's hips, the flaxen blonde remained hung, the female's lips of bewitchment delicately disjoined from such tender association, departing from one another in result of producing calculated vocals. "Fifteen...fourteen...thirteen...twelve...eleven...ten..." articulated thy unearthly timbres of a siren's sublime croon, incandescent oculi of aurulent golds scrutinizing the innards of the locker room from an inverted, topsy-turvey perspective; a prepossessing pout of physical suffering postured itself there amongst Sonoshee Kinmokusei's fleshy labrum—this matron despised stretching, despite its immense benefactors.
"...Three...two...one," illuminated this bewitching maiden with a tongue of relief, ceasing one's resplendent glare upon the inverted cosmos of beneficial torment and suffering. Stretching; an ephemeral suffering equivalent to an aeon in thy blasphemous depths of purgatory. Thereupon posturing one's superior region to poise upright, the elongated strands of silkened blonde laid idle amongst one's buxom posterior, each lock falling near the dame's gluteus muscles. A neutral hue of pallid caramel possessed the complexion of the woman's filament, a shade of blasphemy that adulated the Saiyaness' bronze skin. A clothed limb protracted outward as ecru phalanges grasped for the heap of obsidian cotton folded afore one, the woman desiring to utilize a cloak to evoke a semblance of dissimulation, solely to deflect thou's identification. Where the cloak had once been now resided a porcelain mask to assure one's identity remained unknown, its designs resembling that of a weeping fiend: twin lines of onyx hues brushed horizontally amongst the reflective porcelain as eye holes, a singular line of dahlia red seeping earthward amongst both cheeks, commonly perceived as sanguine tears; she was a maiden of solitude, not publicity.
It was bizarre for the essence of Sonoshee to appear in such a tournament, but upon disassociating thyself from the Saiyan Alliance years ago, it was not oft' that this woman found herself in a spectacle of battle. Having been reared for war, it was in one's blood, and ofttimes she conditioned in solitude to maintain one's combative capabilities. But had it been some time since the hybridized woman had sparred and thus, with due consideration, registered thyself; a registration that would soon tamper with one's fate.
And it was truthful, yes, that Sonoshee was a maiden lacking the omnipotence of a thoroughbred Saiyan, foredoomed at birth with thy crux of a humanitarian; predominantly of earthling blood. But it had been quite irrelevant to she who was a child of war—no such inheritance of Saiyan prowess was necessary to be strong, not to this matron who converted one's pain into power. It was a state of mind, truly; and strength was not solely defined by one's physical aptitude, but mental, too. Bequeathed a crux of resilience and dauntlessness, no foe was considered too powerful for this half-Saiyaness—because Sonoshee would still fight, still give one's all, no matter how impuissant she'd appear before one. The oculi of adjudicating souls may see this woman struggle, but never shall they perceive with those damned eyes, this woman quit.
Unraveling the obsidian cloth from its secured folds of pristine order, its bituminous fabrication was then enswathed amongst petite yet constructed shoulders, its charcoal veil swallowing a decent portion of the maiden's slight stature of five-foot-three; and due to its unshapely exterior of flowing garment, it had effortlessly, and fortunately, concealed the curvaceous figurine that existed beneath its dark drapery. Exposure; not one's preference. Beneath the beguiling cloak, the dame donned a short, long-sleeved dress that contained a monochromatic scheme, as well as a mid-calf pair of tuscany combat boots; a pair of footwear that would irrevocably be removed afore one's match. Sonoshee strikingly despised wearing shoes in battle—a peculiar feature that has shadowed this woman since childhood. Anyhow, it was a choice of attire that provided comfort with its lack of restriction, and one that would not interfere with her range of motion; less was more, no?
"Ladies and gentleman!" an ebullient and quite animated announcer bellowed from afar, the ecru phalanges of Sonoshee upheaving a hooded garment to envelope her blonde cranium, "In this next match, we have a new face—"ecru metacarpi arose to equip the porcelain mask of a weeping hellion,"—but also one that represents one of the most traditional martial arts schools that ever existed—Cornatto, the Turtle Hermit!"
The woman glaciated upon distinguishing the opponent's alias.
Just as the woman's metacarpi began to fasten the concealment of a porcelain mask, the very muscles within the dame's body instantaneously fell taut, the mask's equipment briefly ceasing; a diminutive tremor conquered the woman's once stabilized hands. No...way. The oxygen that once circulated throughout the moist lungs of this woman abruptly ceased as twin lungs collapsed, aghast by the preposterous hearing that her auditory organs had perceived. It couldn't be... That man...Cornatto. Forgotten had he been all these years, a past comrade of utmost respect, a male the dame had extraordinarily revered during one's alliance with the Saiyans; forgotten had he been until..now. Solarium oculi trundled upon hearing a specter's alias; it could not have been him...he had vanished years ago! It couldn't have been him...it couldn't have...been. Regardless to whether it was him, or some man with the eccentric namesake, it was so silly; not a morpheme had been produced, nor an appearance perceived, yet, this male Saiyan had silenced the stolid berceuse of a dauntless siren. "Cornatto...?" reverberated thy euphonious lingua of a siren's astounded coo, lips a sea fairer's sweven torpidly ceasing thereupon repeating one's name. Writhing roses blossomed amid one's inferior eyelids, the rubescent blush celestially contrasting one's honeyed skin. Shame; shame ransacking thou's crux—how disrespectful of she to have forgotten such a man of great reverence...a man she had once held in high regard as a young adolescent of war.
It was silent for a brief moment; and then, a boisterous conundrum abruptly erupted just outside the locker room within the participant lounge, the crowds praising the newcomer's appearance amongst the tourney mat. The woman could envision the male of humbled origins waving kindly to those who cheered him on from within the mountainous stands; he was always so winsome and jaunty in nature. Momentarily, the moist lungs of a hidden blonde exuded an exhalation of acceptance, fastening the tool of dissimulation to one's comely features. "Turtle Hermit, huh? ...I suppose it's been some time," the beguiling dame mirthfully stated to oneself, a metacarpal constricting into a clutched fist of humbled sportsmanship, determined to give one's all.
And before one knew it, Sonoshee's presence was to be summoned.
"And running up against the one and only Turtle Hermit is not only a new face, but a hidden fac—"from one's sensitive microphone could be heard a loud whack as the second commentator walloped the current announcer, chastising him in the background for his shit puns, "Ow—eh!? The mic is still on! S-sorry! I—I mean, an earthling inhabitant..." A comical sweat drop oozed alongside the hooded figure who stood silently at the mouth of their designated lounge, the crowd silent for only a moment."—Ōnshee Sō!" The crowd went wild despite the humiliating announcement, the veiled maiden beneath a pseudonym holding onto a pair of tuscan boots amid one's flank. Typical of this odd woman; the boots had been removed, revealing petite feet of warm, bisque hues. Disregarding the announcer's babbling, the barefooted being neglected one's footwear afore the five, concrete stairs that led to the stadium, now ascending empty-handed with a demeanor of tranquility; and it was indisputable upon one's arising that this opponent, now poised before this man of heightened length, was petite in stature; frail and delicate this dame may have been, but only a fool would believe such vulnerability to conquer she.
Halting one's freight just before a male colleague's sight, the concealed being discreetly allowed aurulent oculi to scrutinize Cornatto. Standing afore her with altitudinous height of five feet and nine inches, this male unintentionally harbored a stature of domineering exteriors. And although the man contained a vast height to his physique, it did not interfere with his bulk of mass; adorning his preference of attire that exposed portions of his physique, it was outrageously perceptible that Cornatto possessed an immaculate body mass, wielding a masculine physique of bulk. Primarily dominating the superior region of his embodiment were roughhewn pectorals and rotund deltoids, each striation effortlessly carving into linking muscles amongst a tapered physique. From beneath thy woman's mask of porcelain creation, the lambent oculi of Cornatto's opponent briskly fled from his being, rebounding back to a gaze of concentration. Damn him.
Inferior beneath thy omnipotent sun this woman stood, entirely concealed of one's identity; but little had spectating oculi known that beneath the charcoal drapery of a desired facade was a sufficient warrioress. Petite, but capable. Twin limbs of pulpy bisque appeared bare below the solar luminescence, a coat's veil of charcoal only reaching the midsection of one's statuesque thighs; trimmed and toned, yet, evidently feminine. Glancing back at Cornatto, the disguised hybrid arched a ravishing neck to gaze upon the revered colleague, and the woman could not help but suddenly become a smidgen concerned; not only had this woman appeared as a vulnerable child up against his statuesque height, but it was Cornatto she was sparring with—The Turtle Hermit. At once in the war he had been a male of absolute strength; she could not—nor had she desired to out of fear—fathom his prowess now. Regardless of his undeniable power...Sonoshee was still determined. From beneath one's cloak ascended a bisque metacarpal, the opponent's thumb positioned upward toward thy heaven's void of blue bonnet hues. A benevolent thumbs up. "Don't hold back on me," alluringly hymed the tongue of a masqueraded maiden, a sole hand descending as it retracted backward to rest abreast her flank once more; blithely encouraging him to do his best."Alright, fighters!" the announcer bellowed from afar, the dame gracefully retracting fifteen feet rearward to provide space betwixt she and Cornatto. A decent distance away from the thoroughbred Saiyan, the woman's dextral leg lithely swept rearward behind her, twisting the cloaked being's torso at a slight angle as the woman's sinistral leg remained fixed afore her; the concrete felt warm beneath denuded feet from its inevitable sun basking. Twin hands arose then, the left positioned at breast level whilst the right contracted into a fist abreast one's dextral hip. Eager oculi constricted upon the male, prepossessing hues of vibrant xanthous erupting with cavorting embers of sheer excitement. "Let the first match...beeeeeegin!" the sprightly announcer chimed; from within the surrounding crowds of spectators, the clamorous sea of writhing flesh flailed chaotically out of anticipation, cheering both combatants on.
From one's idle position, the dame forced slight pressure upon the very digits of her sinistral foot, depressing her being as she dexterously launched forward. And just as the woman's body maneuvered forth, she had jolted forth so expeditiously that the imagery of her being dematerialized into the placid air; she had only been imperceivable for a mere breath before abruptly spawning in mid-air abreast the solid being of Cornatto. The cloaked being tore aside their left arm at a vehement rate in an attempt to lodge an elbow into the male's jowl, launching it toward him with precise control. Internally, it had been predicted by Sonoshee that he'd deflect the assault; but that was perhaps expected, for she had gone into this spar with a scouting perception, wishing to preserve one's stamina as she observed the male's combative style and stratagems. And after all, it was The Turtle Hermit she was sparring with—his speed was far more superior than her own!
STAMINA: 3 | 3 THREAD POWER LEVEL: 100,000 POWER LEVEL: 100,000 APPROACHING ASSAULT: 5,000 PL [ 5% MF of 100,000 PL ] *Sonoshee attempted to throw an elbow at Cornatto!
It was already apparent to the Earthling Saiyan how things worked around here; it was indeed a fantastic gathering of people the one he had spotted earlier when he had come here. Now that he had finally got a look at the people that cheered on the warrior although the fact they probably didn’t know him at all. But he guessed that the martial arts were more about sports and entertainment for the spectators rather than actual fighting.
He didn’t know if the martial artist were interested in anything more than enhancing them and reach a higher state of power. Wasn’t it what martial artists were about on Earth? They were here to express themselves, not indeed to show off-- or well, not like Saiyans didn’t show off, but it wasn’t like Saiyans were that much acquainted with the refined earthling styles of martial arts; they were a lot more aggressive about it than you’d expect from a Human.
Natto himself once warned the man that martial arts were deadly-- made to kill, although it wasn’t indeed the case most of the time. The Turtle School taught not only the art of self-defense but also to attack, for the times where when there is trouble, one must act and defend! It didn’t encourage certainly encourage violence but it wasn’t a pacifist art either, it was just a matter as to how you’d take it, pretty much.
To ask a Saiyan not to be violent, whether it to be aggressively or peacefully just like how Cornatto had always been, it was a waste of time. No Saiyan would agree to be entirely peaceful; it was in their blood to fight at all, nothing else could make them feel any better than that, not that they couldn’t enjoy other activities of course. There were plenty of things to do on Earth and what Cornatto had discovered ever since he was young was that there were also other things other than fighting; he just loved to battle over anything else. It was only natural for his race to care more for combat than whatever else they could be doing, it was what they were good at, no?
Cornatto himself had already ascended beyond the average Saiyan’s battle power and was about the level of a Super Saiyan Two; he only needed to put a little more effort for him to rise and then go beyond the form that surpasses the regular Super Saiyan form. It was probably going to take a while, but he knew that he could arrange it somehow, it was just a matter of time and if thankfully he could have managed to unlock the Super Saiyan Two quickly.
He knew that the third form of a Super Saiyan was achievable through intense training but it was still a long way ahead of him, and at the moment, he had to focus on what was currently in front of him.
At the moment, he had just stepped into the ring and showed off nothing more than what he had usually worn throughout his life, other than a Saiyan armor when he was a baby. But he had long since let his body adorn earthling clothes because he preferred them all over any additional armor that anyone could have offered him. They were lighter than anything else and honestly, Cornatto wasn’t one to dress just to look pretty but instead only to cover what mattered and show off his dedication as a martial artist.
Although, his blue top could easily let anyone peek into his superhuman bodily traits; the chest itself was a sight to behold as if it weren’t all that clear that the Earthling Saiyan was a man of due respect because of his sheer power and strength.
But it was also true that his kindness was twice as strong as his power level. Either way, though, the announcer soon announced his opponent who entered the arena without too much regard in terms of notoriety but with a mask over her face. It wasn’t that he minded, however he sure didn’t expect that his first opponent would be a masked lad but he could tell from her frame that she was obviously a woman.
However, if her looks didn’t say much because of her mask, it was obvious that the woman also possessed incredible power; he could sense it and she made no effort to even suppress it-- it was about the level of a Super Saiyan warrior, if it weren’t for the fact that he believed her to be an Earthling, but that aside, he could quite see the connection between the strongest under the heavens and the tournament itself; although, to be honest, there were certainly people a lot stronger than Super Saiyans-- before and now, too. Whether it were Saiyans too, or just other aliens or even humans had managed to tap into powers almost as great as the one of a Super Saiyan.
She had a weird name, though, for an Earthling too. Anyway, the Turtle Hermit blinked briefly before he let off a smile for the woman who gave him a thumbs up which he had seen as a fair and friendly gesture, to which he responded to with a nod of his head. “Of course! You may want not to hold back yourself,” - he said before he put a certain distance between the two as he had turned back and moved away, about more than a pair of feet away from the end of the ring.
Cornatto switched to his fighting stance and watched the opponent as she apparently decided to make the first move and charge at Cornatto with her elbow, unfortunately, she was just so much slower than the man who could easily read her movements and simply put his hand forward to block her elbow and hold her still before he pulled her closer and pushed himself forward with his fist aiming to hit her in the face, and possibly send her flying.
Stamina 5/5
Cornatto blocked for PL 80.505! 80.505 vs 5.000 = Corn wins! Cornatto used [AD] Martial Arts for PL 53.670!
It was inevitable. Deflecting such puissance was inexecutable—the herculean male of immemorial arts was much too powerful for this siren of foredoomed progeny, much too powerful. Of course, this the matron had known the moment Cornatto's name had been announced as one's opposer. Albeit, such was not to sulk or fret upon, as many of the damned would have done; instead, the prepossessing dame of solarized flush would withstand with resilience, for one's strength was nothing more than how well one endured injurious inflictions, internally and externally. Behind her porcelain masquerade of concealment was the existence of an impermeable expression of premonition, its taut expression gravely contorting the celestial features of this maiden. As twin jowls condensed in anticipation, the cloaked figure had began to drift earthward, no longer suspended within thy grasp of sudden impetus. And as the dame's elbow maneuvered toward the statuesque features of Cornatto's facials, a robust metacarpal abruptly appeared, effortlessly ensnaring the woman's limb and preventing one's elbow from executing a successful assault; his roughhewed hand monstrously enveloped the dame's elbow, the woman appearing diminutive afore the past colleague in his strapping hold. For only a brief moment was this woman pendulous in suspension as the Turtle Hermit held his opponent still; and in that moment the pallid-haired woman had apprehended the slight, fluid movement of the muscles of his posterior forearm twitch beneath thy brim of his cream skin—and then she had been pulled toward him. A feverishly drawn breath fled from betwixt thy warm externalities of freshly parted labrum, an upsurge of warmth flourishing amidst the dame's cheeks as Cornatto jerked her toward his being; but as quickly as the blush invaded twin jowls, it dissipated, for his fist was suddenly pressed amongst the porcelain plains of the hellion mask.
A rash warmth invaded the dame's chin, the blustering shrill of fractured glass erupting betwixt Cornatto and Sonoshee.
Promptly, the obscured embodiment of a hybridized Saiyaness was sent soaring rearwards from the male phenom's potent clout, the greedy phalanges of ferocious gales causing the dame's cloak to writhe chaotically as she flew; an accumulation of shattered porcelain freckled the tile flooring as Cornatto dismembered the dame's mask of concealment."WHAT A HIT!!" the sprightly commentator applauded, the array of spectators cheering wildly from the stands. The vexatious ache of a split lip amplified as one's adrenaline began to simmer, the woman soaring toward the outer boundaries of the tourney's stadium from such omnipotence. And to those who spectated with thy feeble oculi of mankind postulated defeat; to the naked eye, it appeared that the earthling woman was going to be sent out of bounds, claiming defeat and an effortless victory for the Turtle Hermit.
But Cornatto's opponent was not only an earthling.
In mid-flight, the cloaked being swiftly heaved one's knees toward their concealed chest, utilizing the momentum that ransacked her body and forced oneself to flip backwards with the weight of her legs and the momentum of his assault. As the woman's physique now spun into a straightened posture ten feet aloft the neutral tile and turf, her being ceased abruptly as she manipulated internal ki, hoisted in suspension as she now appeared to be levitating just outside of the stadium, hood still in veiling tact. Had it not been for the ability of flight, Sonoshee would have been knocked out of bounds by Cornatto—that man sure could pack a punch!"It looks like Ōnshee is recovering from such a devastating blo—huuuuwhat!? She can fly!?" the announcer began, his sentence having been interrupted by the elongated shriek of pure stupefaction; an irrelevant reaction the hybrid disregarded. Torpidly, diminutive spheres of sanguine fluid fell earthward and splashed amongst the emerald grass, the hooded figure disregarding the newfound injury; Sonoshee had grown accustomed to such pain back from the days of arduous training with her father. Perceptive oculi fixated their golden illuminance amongst the male down below, the woman's lower mandible succumbing to excruciating pain. 'His speed is much too exceeding; strength, too. I can hit all I want, but he'll still deflect my attempts. I can't match his abilities, he's far too superior,' the dame thought as meticulous oculi briefly dissected her current plight, the woman's bottom labrum bleeding profusely from its gaping laceration. 'If I can't lay a finger on him, I suppose I have no choice but to take each hit the best I can in order to learn his style and habits for now. If I search for his weaknesses, that might not work if he's one to fix his vulnerabilities in combat. My only advantage at this point would be to study his habits and do my best to counter them.' Languidly had an ecru hand ascended from beneath the charcoal cloak then, the woman obliterating the streaks of vital fluid that sluiced outward as she wiped away its existence with the back of her hand. He got her good.
"You sure can pack a punch, huh?" the levitating woman vociferated in timbres of astoundment, the tender phalanges of silent gales tampering with the loose folds of one's charcoal cloak in mid-air. "But I suppose—" the maiden began; as soon as she had vocalized the verb of assumption, the being traveled forward at a rate of speed that once again accumulated the visual of the cloaked being dematerializing into the air, only this time the cloak had been neglected. No longer concealing its female host, the hollow coverlet flitted earthward at a placid rate of speed, spiraling and swaying as it neared the turf down below. Before the attire of disguise had even the chance to initiate its fall, though, the woman had abruptly generated anaft the male's posterior, no longer enrobed to dissemble one's identity. As the porcelain mask lay in a pool of glistening shards amongst the tile—due to Cornatto's destructive blow—the face of a beauteous maiden was presented to those who spectated from afar, a subtle accumulation of bewildered gasps exuding outward from the surrounding crowds. Sonoshee was now perceivable to the naked eye. "—that's to be expected of an ex-elite warrior," the visible maiden cooed outward in a tone of recognition, an alluring grin encamping plump lips; a thick trail of sanguine fluid trickled along her bronze chin. Upon the dame's vocalization, the woman spun counter-clockwise as she positioned oneself behind Cornatto, briskly bending her sinistral leg ever so slightly as she leaned backward upon it. In response, Sonoshee's right, denuded leg tore upward with immense velocity, forcefully slicing through the air in attempt to roundhouse-kick the male's vertebrochondral ribs from behind. To exert the flow of strength and density into her limb, the woman flexed her quadriceps, the siren's oculi glaring from her slightly bent stance. Sonoshee knew he would simply counter this attempt, but she was no longer wishing to land a blow, for she was cognizant to the fact that it was highly impossible with that speed of his—her only advantage at this point was to imbibe his combative style and defensive techniques.
The first match had begun, and while Cornatto couldn’t say that his opponent was weak, she wasn’t that strong either; he knew that he shouldn’t have expected much. Most people on Earth weren’t indeed warriors, and he could also see why; they had peaceful lives most of the time. He could somewhat relate to that given the fact that he had gotten soft once because of his efforts that were focused entirely on raising Kabocha and at the same time, subdued his warrior feelings but they were difficult to contain and eventually returned. Stronger than ever, to be precise.
The Earthling Saiyan had almost finally reached the stage of the Super Saiyan Two, he couldn’t transform quite yet, but he was sure that he was close. He was close enough to surpass his power ten times fold than his natural Super Saiyan transformation, perhaps even more, but at the moment, he could only say that he wasn’t expecting this match to last long.
His grasp reliably clenched on her elbow, it was quite easy to tell just how confident he was in his abilities, just like any other Saiyan warrior. The man pulled her, not carelessly but with his incredible strength that was leaps and bounds beyond Sonoshee’s and then launched his fist at her which easily cracked-- no, wholly shattered her mask. Most of the pieces quickly ripped apart and flew away at the impact of the fist and left the blonde with nothing more other than her attire. No more mask. No more hiding.
On the other hand, the announcer got pretty excited; he probably didn’t get to see such a fight ever-- although it wasn’t much of a fight but rather the strength of the Saiyan himself was so enormous that it was unseen in most competitions out there among Earthlings. For one, in particular, the dark-haired man hadn’t ever participated in one of those-- out of maybe one when he was younger, but he couldn’t quite recall it either way.
“Hehehe, well, that sure was quite a hit… nothing much to get so much excited about, though!”
The Earthling Saiyan fixated his gaze over his opponent that slowly recovered herself from the impact, although it looked like she wasn’t certainly going to give up anytime soon. She was strong, but she wasn’t a good fighter at all; her fighting style was all over the place, and honestly, Cornatto would have likely obliterated her if he even tried to tap into the Super Saiyan power. He guessed that the tournament wasn’t that fun maybe, but he supposed he was still going to give it a try before perhaps leaving, or well, he could just stick around and probably win. But it wasn’t that fun at all! He was looking for a challenge after all.
“She’s strong! Man, I don’t think I see many earthlings like here around, but she lacks in a lot of places; her style is pretty raw, too! She reminds me of my old self before Natto taught me, hehe. Well, I guess you can’t blame her for trying!”
The raven-haired Saiyan stared at the woman slightly, perhaps in what she might have thought of as in recognition but Cornatto didn’t know who she was at all; he could just tell that she was a woman and that was about it. The two had already met years ago, but it wasn’t like the two knew each other at all, maybe Cornatto saw her a few times, but he didn’t quite recall ever interacting with her. Sonoshee was also from the Saiyan Alliance and admired the Major as some other fellow warriors did, but Corn didn’t even know who Sono was, so he was entirely clueless at her sight.
Nor could he tell that she was a Saiyan-- she didn’t look like one at all, she looked much like any other Earthling would have. On the other part of the ring, even though Cornatto didn’t have a tail, it was easy to tell that he was a Saiyan with his pitch black hair and pupils and not to mention his body itself was one that Humans would have hardly achieved without great effort. It wasn’t that much herculean or legendary because he wasn’t indeed a buffed up sculpture, but he was muscular and at the same time; he was just about right. It wasn’t too little, nor too much, it just felt like the body fit the man completely. Other people, specifically Humans, built majestic bodies which looked utterly abnormal if not weird.
Cornatto chuckled. “Haha, sure I can! You’re not too bad yourself, but you won’t hit me like this,” - he said and rested his hands on his hips as he exhaled out of his nostrils and lowered his head ever so slightly.
He looked at the Saiyan female in curiosity and wondered whether she was going to keep going or perhaps give up, but she was set on continuing the fight, which he admired greatly. Of course, though, she was going to get everything Cornatto would have sent her way, but he was probably not going all out at all. He was sure he could have possibly finished the fight quickly enough, but Corn thought he’d give her a few more chances.
“Alright then! Come at me with all you’ve got then!”
The man’s exclamation was soon followed by the woman who had charged at him but tried to pull a little trick off the man, but Cornatto was no fool and more experienced than Sono as his form disappeared and reappeared behind Sonoshee. He quirked an eyebrow and tapped her on the shoulder a few times.
“Uhm, ex-elite? What are you talking about?... I know the Turtle Hermit is apparently some cool thing in places like these, but that’s a little exaggerated.”
The Earthling Saiyan had been the Major of the Alliance, but before then, Cornatto was a low-class warrior, certainly not elite-- a rank that meant nothing in the Saiyan Alliance.
Stamina 5/5
Cornatto dodged for PL 120.758! 120.758 vs 5.000 = Corn wins!
"Uhm, ex-elite? What are you talking about?... I know the Turtle Hermit is apparently some cool thing in places like these, but that’s a little exaggerated." Behind her; in a breath's heated wake, this frivolous man had teleported behind her. Abruptly, thy hybrid's celestial features had contorted remarkably. Such disruptive features had not been in result of thy grasp of bewilderment; but rather, angst and perplexity—the colloquy held betwixt the two had almost appeared foreign to the male who abruptly spawned abaft she. He's questioning elite? Maybe he wasn't so aware of how highly everyone viewed him...? It was true; no, he was no Elite, lacking the entitlement of such superior and prominent ranking. But Cornatto had been perceived as such once long ago, outrageously revered for how indescribable he was as a Major in the Alliance. How could he have been blinded to such admiration by those who were his peers?
Bronze jowls clenched tautly.
Expeditiously, the lateral rectae of a sole iris barreled athwart as they followed the male's movement, alas stationing a lone iris to glare amongst the outer canthus of her ecru lids as the abrupt gusts of his rapid movement exposed his new location—behind her. Glimpsing aloft a clothed shoulder of onyx spandex, the sole iris of helical colorant coruscated underneath the cosmic veiling of the perspiring sol, its oozing incandescence masking emphasis upon the ocular organ that waspishly cinched amidst her old comrade; a galaxy of choleric nebulas scintillated deeply within, irritability invading her once tender oculi. "...Were you always this frivolous!?" the blonde opponent retorted in a subtle growl, quite vexed now by the male's unworldly demeanor. Had he always been so dipsy and jokey? Taking advantage of the momentum that veiled the woman's swooping leg, the maiden of bisque flesh lithely recovered from a dodged assault as she pirouetted her petite physique around at an expeditious rate, firmly planting a denuded foot down afore Cornatto and hooking a toned limb upward; a bright effulgence was expanding there in the midst of an ecru palm that flanked the maiden's waist, its flaring radiation quite blinding. The energized sphere of warm brilliancy flourished, its amber lambency amplifying rapidly as the dame fixated a profuse source of ki into one's dextral metacarpal, the woman's clutched fist growing taut as the blonde suddenly swung skyward with might; the bronze skin amongst the dame's knuckles converted into splotches of osseous-white as they were brought into prominence upon clutching an enclosed fist. Sonoshee had been flustered by this male's perplexed response—perhaps he had consigned to oblivion, and suppressed those days as one with the Alliance. Or, perchance this retired Major...had neglected to recall those days; if so...how disrespectful."Have you forgotten the Saiyan Alliance already!?" the hybridized Saiyaness of earthling features bitterly snarled, enraged by his doltish behavior. If there was one thing this maiden struggled to tolerate, it was those of dopey mentalities, and repressing her ill temper due to them. The woman had neglected her previous stratagem to observe his movements as a taut fist swung up toward the male's inferior jaw, the agitated, five-foot-blonde attempting to uppercut Cornatto with Siren's Fist.
STAMINA: 3 | 3 → 2 | 3
NAME: [ OT-1 ] | SIREN'S FIST
APPROACHING ASSAULT: 25,000 PL [ 25% of 100,000 PL in damage ]
DESCRIPTION: Predominantly produced by converging a middling source of ki into a single hand, Siren's Fist is a ki-enhanced punch that allows its caster to assault opponents with an amplified modification of the average blow. *Requires 25% of power level [ PL ].
*Sonoshee attempted to uppercut Cornatto with Siren's Fist!
The man didn’t know what Sono was even talking about-- he knew that Elite was supposed to be something in Saiyan culture, but at best, she didn’t realize that those ranks themselves didn’t make any difference in the Alliance. Elite, low-class, it almost made no difference unless you were in the Empire. Cornatto himself had never been in the Empire, the only Saiyan home that he had joined was the Alliance, and that was about it. He didn’t care for titles themselves, so even if he were an Elite, he would have at least recognized it but not accounted it for much.
The Earthling Saiyan had been born a low-class warrior; his power level was that low when he was a kid and perhaps his behavior had always put him into that category; he had never been your typical Saiyan warrior, but he did indeed love fighting, but yet he was kind. Cornatto was one out of a million. There were also a few more, just like him, but they were almost rare compared to how different the Saiyans were at the time and probably still were.
Although, Cornatto seriously didn’t remember Sonoshee. It wasn’t a matter of whether she had ever spoken to him or not, but Corn wasn’t one to certainly pay a piece of his mind to every single person he saw around-- only the ones that he noted to be important or noteworthy of being remembered! It wasn’t that weird not to recognize someone whom he had barely interacted with after all, but he seriously had no idea what she meant when she apparently got mad and called him frivolous.
“...Frivolous? Uhh…” - the man repeated cluelessly. He didn’t even know what she was talking about; hadn’t Cornatto always been like this? By all means, it was true that Sono didn’t probably know him that much, but hey, Corn himself couldn’t tell what she was trying to make him understand. One thing was for sure, though, the Earthling Saiyan had hardly changed but perhaps had given a few false hopes to the woman.
“Look, I don’t know whatcha talking about…”
Soon, the Turtle Hermit found himself to be confronted by the woman in action whom immediately tried to switch her situation through momentum and a few swift moves, but Cornatto quickly bent his back forth as he moved out of the way in a goofy manner. “Woah… man, this woman has no chill! What is she even on about?!” - the man thought to himself in wonder, but soon enough, he could only take a better look and wonder.
The woman did mention the Saiyan Alliance, and that left the Saiyan thinking on whether she’d be part of the Alliance or not, but he couldn’t see in her any of the usual Saiyan traits, she looked just like any other Human. Hardly though were female Humans that good-looking but she seriously looked nothing like a Saiyan. Given the Saiyan had such little choice, though, his orbs sparked in wonder but to think only of how this woman would know of the Saiyan Alliance.
Cornatto comically blinked as he stared at the gorgeous woman until he lifted his index finger up to his cheekbone and scratched it, blurting out a simple question. It wasn’t certainly going to be a smart question to ask, especially since Sono didn’t seem to be that bright at the moment, but it was understandable. Cornatto’s thoughts, instead, felt empty as he had nothing that he could fuel them with giving just how vague this woman was being; it had begun to turn a little bit awkward for him, especially since she seemed to know a lot more than he did at the moment. But, he ought to ask anyway.
"Do I know you?"
The Turtle Hermit asked nonchalantly, he evidently meant it and wasn’t joking at all. Nor was he trying to be frivolous or forget; he remembered the Saiyan Alliance quite clearly but honestly could not classify himself as an Elite, nor could he quite picture out who Sono was, but mostly because of the circumstances, of course. Nothing more than that. Cornatto immediately retorted with a faint chuckle and moved his hand in his hair, scratching the back of his skull.
"Look! Sorry if the Alliance did something bad to ya' or well if I was involved, but you're probably mistaking me for someone else. Not that much of a short memory but it's hard to remember all of that stuff."
Corn did mean it. Yeah, he was sincere. He was sure that the Alliance would have nothing wrong to anyone, maybe at least. But as far as he was concerned, he had never met this woman before and was likely never involved in anything that may have caused her to snap at him in regards to the Alliance apparently. Then, of course, it could just be a misunderstanding. Who knew, maybe she was mistaking him for Natto. The two did look quite soft, although their hairstyles were utterly different.
Though, hey, that would have severely cracked a laugh out of the Saiyan. To be mistaken for his good old friend would have been quite a ride for him, not to mention the fact that both Saiyans had similar names, although now that he thought about such a difference, he realized that he was the one mistaken right now.
There was no way she’d think he was Natto if the blonde guy over there just called him Cornatto a few moments ago, so there had to be something but what? Cornatto eyed her carefully, with both his hands resting on his hips that were just correctly followed by his superhuman frame and he stood there, proudly and still as he stared at the bronze-skinned woman. Perhaps Corn was just about to dig a little bit too deep within the woman, hopefully this wasn't going to anger her.
“So? Do I know you or what?”
Cornatto dodged for PL 120.758! 120.758 vs 25.000 = Corn wins!
WC: 1012 Total WC: 4076
Last Edit: Nov 28, 2017 18:49:22 GMT -5 by Deleted
The masculine physique of Cornatto awkwardly lurched to the side as the comely Saiyan bizarrely bent his back forth, the odd maneuver allowing the onyx haired male to evade the Saiyaness' ki-infused assault as he goofily pivoted aslope; thus, Sonoshee's fist made no such connection to the male's inferior mandible.. "E-eh—!?" the unearthly mistress abruptly squealed, her lilliputian figure thrusting upward from the uppercut's propulsion, but soon, gradually drifted back downward onto nimble, ecru feet. Posturing oneself to straighten up in, the woman gently twined around only to discover the five-foot-nine bloke gazing down upon her, his obsidian oculi innocently blinking as the male rose a singular digit to scratch his jowl. Did he always look so charming when dumbfounded? The golden effulgence that once emitted around the fist of Sonoshee momentarily dispersed, the woman's hand dropping to one's flank as the Saiyan suddenly spout out honest inquiry. "Do I know you?"
The woman's oculi sullenly bloated upon the Major's inquest.
As if Cornatto had become conscious of how discourteously he had proposed himself, the statuesque bloke promptly verbalized a weak chortle, his herculean arm cocking upward as his hand ascended to awkwardly rub the back of his cranium. Goof. "Look! Sorry if the Alliance did something bad to ya', or well, if I was involved," Sonoshee arched a brow out of dismay, "—but you're probably mistaking me for someone else." A vein appeared amongst the woman's left temple from sheer irritation as her brow spastically twitched. "Not that much of a short memory, but it's hard to remember all of that stuff," the muscular brute earnestly affirmed, both of Cornatto's strapping hands now resting amongst his hips as his ebony oculi fixated themselves upon the maiden afore him. And it was silent for a brief moment as he looked down on the blonde. “So? Do I know you or what?”
Did he know her, or not?
The scarce chromaticity of viscid roseate rapidly flourished amid the Saiyaness' twin jowls of sun-kissed complexion, a contortion of innocent mortification emerging as the woman became incredulously uncomfortable beneath his gaze. Upon acknowledgment of the treacherous blush, Sonoshee immediately glanced downward as her thick quills of delicate eyelashes interlaced, both orbitals now closed as the beauteous maiden no longer desired to adhere one's sight amid the eesome imagery of Cornatto staring; to gaze with a recherché blush would ruin this irked woman of pride. Amid the dame's bare and sculpted flanks convulsed the her clenched fists, indubitably irate by the oblivious male and his dearth of memory. Of course, the male was at no fault for his lack of recollection; the five-foot-three woman who stood afore the Major now was quite unnoticeable back in the day, a voiceless and disassociated warrioress who silently revered those above oneself from the shadows. It was not his fault, no, not at all; but even this hybridized Saiyaness would recognize those whom she spilt blood with back in warefare—even the insignificant ones. "What the hell is going on down there!?" the sprightly commentator inquired aloud, a hushed murmur arising amongst the flesh of innocent spectators. "It seems that our two contestants have ceased their fight!" It was silent for a breath's moment—until the blonde maiden finally glanced upward.
And there, deep within her oculi burned a fire no sea could drown.
Without warning, the bronze maiden induced her dextral hand to instantaneously whisk toward the male's striated sternum, delicate fingers nimbly intertwining within the soft fabric of Cornatto's olympic-blue gi; stubbornly disregarding his chiseled pectorals. Instinctively, Sonoshee's muscles tautly contracted upon tugging him forth, both the dame's right rhomboid and latissimus dorsi being the primary sources of strength whilst several secondary muscles acted as stabilizers, such as her brachii. Due to this, the woman was able to indomitably yank the heightening man down toward her face—which contained quite the comically livid expression upon it. "'Do I know you'!?" the tantalizing lips of this Saiyaness reverberated in a low snarl, Sonoshee's plump labrum having crafted into a scowl of frustration. Within the hybrid's honey-dew colorant oculi had there been the scintillating embers of immense infuriation, the five-foot-three Saiyaness proceeding to clutch onto the gi of Cornatto as choleric orbitals glared amongst him; and when enraged, how furiously alluring, was she."YOU WERE MY MAJOR IN THE SAIYAN ALLIANCE!" the petite maiden irritably shouted, "WE FOUGHT TOGETHER IN THE ALLIANCE-EMPIRE WAR!"Even the gods above could swear to thee that their ethereal oculi captured a glimpse of steam comically arising from this woman's head.
"What on earth is going on?! It seems that our two contestants have ceased their fighting to converse, but about what!? Do they know each other? Are they old flam—" Without delay, the voluptuous dame twirled oneself toward the commentator's box, proceeding to grip onto Cornatto's attire as the blonde maiden scowled at the announcer, furiously shaking her other fist at him. "And YOU!" The sprightly sportscaster shrieked out of fright. "I'll come up there if you don't stay quiet, you hear me?!" Sonoshee barked, the devious chromaticity of a fair blush still conquering the bronze plains of the maiden's cheeks. "Y-y-yes ma'am!" the announce stammered in a meek utterance. This Saiyaness was, undoubtedly, a beauty filled with rage; and she was just as feral as she was graceful.
The Earthling Saiyan was absolutely sincere. He had never seen Sono around, perhaps because the latter had never actually tried to approach him or anything? Not to offend her, but it wasn’t like she could expect Cornatto to know her if the man hadn’t ever even exchanged words with her. It was obvious that Corn hadn’t forgotten a single bit about the Saiyan Alliance, but that was about it; he remembered his comrades, the people he had fought with but not just every single Saiyan that was part of it.
He did still remember his old friends, for one. Like Natto or Tomoroko, there were also Karota and Totoma. They were a bunch of nice guys and the man was glad that he had the chance to meet them, although everything almost fell apart after the war. It didn’t seem to have too much of an influence over the world now, almost that he wondered whether it was worth it to fight that war or not, but after all, Lettis was no more, wasn’t she? In the end, that was about it. If only things could have been handled differently, it’d all be better now probably.
But, he didn’t mind this peace either. It was a peaceful Earth, like the one he had grown to like over his childhood. Of course, there was still trouble but he wouldn’t expect anything else. It wasn’t going to be his favorite place to be without some conflict, after all, because conflict usually brought along super powerful guys that would either fight for the Earth’s sake or to destroy it. Either way, Cornatto would still preserve the Earth’s safety, but also wish to fight stronger guys the more he progressed.
It was kind of selfish, yes.
But was he in the wrong? That’s what a Saiyan was. Or well, what one could expect a good Saiyan to be. Corn was quite the particular specimen, though, not like he was faking it, if there was anything that could get him to jump up in excitement was fighting someone strong-- whether they were equal to him or not, he liked to put himself to the test, it was the righteous thing to do in his opinion. How did they say? Do not patch up your head before you break it! Or was it? Uhh, he wasn’t too sure about it but it was something along the lines of it.
The Saiyaness didn’t seem way too pleased with Cornatto’s questions and all and how to blame her? She had probably just realized her idol or something wasn’t even aware of her existence before, not that he did it on purpose again, but it was that much to expect, after all. But Cornatto himself didn’t actually understand what this was all about, as his fingers didn’t display any sort of reaction or anything to her silence, his expression displayed the same amount of cluelessness as he actually felt pretty dumbstruck.
It wasn’t wrong that he had forgotten about someone, right? Or maybe it wasn’t that he had forgotten, but he simply didn’t know them. By all means, Sono was a beautiful girl, but it wasn’t certainly one of the traits he looked after in a person; it wasn’t even a matter of strength. Corn wasn’t just the one to look straight at that kind of stuff, he was a lot more interested in simple interactions, then again, if he hadn’t interacted with Sonoshee at all, it wasn’t surprising that he’d barely remember her.
The man exchanged a quick look with the announcer as the latter announced the current situation of the encounter and as much as it was still a little bit exaggerated to point out such a small thing, he could agree with him that it was quite the weird match. He had expected this to be over for a while already, but it was taking its sweet time to even get anywhere.
Though all of a sudden, the blonde-haired warrior finally made a move as she approached Cornatto and the man decided to give a free one as she clutched onto his gi but instead of fighting, she barked at him in a manner that made Cornatto almost retreat ever so slightly with a sweat tracing down a small path over his temple. His brows were furrowed and his mouth gaped as he stared at her in confusion, it was true that he had no idea about who Sono was but she was about to get a little bit scary.
“Y-you are a Saiyan?!... You don’t look like one at all! Hahaha… Sorry about that. But did we actually fight together?” - the man inquired with a curious look on his face as he tilted his head left and right. “I mean, you sure weren’t part of my squad. And I battled Metal Aspargus with Karota, so, uh… yeah. Who are you again?”
Corn looked at her curiously, she didn’t exactly look like the part, after all. She looked more human than Karota herself! And she looked plenty human more than Saiyan, although she was a hybrid, he guessed that Sonoshee was one herself. It was quite easy to recognize hybrids, after all if they didn’t have black hair and eyes— then that was the clue.
“There are so many Hybrids, though. And here I thought there were more Saiyans than half-bloods, huh. I suppose she’s Human, too. She looks very Earthling, at least.”
The Earthling Saiyan once more glanced at the announcer as he spoke out loud and grimaced as he saw the terrible exchange of words between the man and the woman as the tan-skinned Saiyan shut the hell up the poor guy and caused the Saiyan to giggle softly.
“Haha! Oh, come on, no need to be like that—!”
As the man exclaimed those words, he meant to pat the girl’s shoulders, but inadvertently he forgot to control his strength and thus forced his powerful force on her, which would probably cause her to fly off the ground.
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