Post by Deleted on Feb 11, 2016 0:19:32 GMT -5
"One!"
Crash!! Came down the steeled fists of Son Gouken. His body hidden beneath the starry skies of the Cold North. His body nude for the most part, his shirt and upper gi missing. Only his legs and feet encased in his usual clothing. Though, accessories such as his headband and wristbands had remained on his person. They were practically apart of the costume at this point! As his knuckles came down to the snow, they immediately were pushed back up and out of the white. His fists smashing against one another before coming down yet again. An augmented form of clapping pushups. Displaying his strength and endurance to nobody but himself. Something to note, though, was the position of Son's haircut. Pulled up, informing those who knew that he was in a powered up form rather than base. He'd need it, as the snow had still been falling. Even more so, as he was in the middle of the tundra held by the Northern Continent. Foolish, yes. But, character building, even more. His eyes remained up, on his twelve. Unmoving. Even as he rose and fell, he remained fixated on the horizon. Never looking down nor behind. Side to side, neglected. He had far too much to worry about and was in a deep rooted state of thought. The Saiyan's brow furrowed and lips curved down.
A single word had been engraved into his head; Weapon. Why? It was so harmless. It was the context used and who used it exactly that had put it to head. The term used to describe the greatest and most recent grandson of Son Goku. Uses by none other than the overcompensating ginger demon named Saki. The bio sword toting devil had referred to Son and his friend as weapons of the new generation. How dare he. A term that he had never been called before had struck him so deeply so. A gash remaining in his heart for the sheer fact of the obvious. Son was a descendant of a Saiyan mixed with a Human. The Saiyans, a warrior race, were all people who sought excitement and fought to their hearts content. Humans, a great variety bag that couldn't be pin pointed without hours being drowned simply listing the types of man. And that was without description! What infuriated Son Gouken so much was the fact that some demon who constantly preached and fluctuated from being on the offensive to the supportive side had dared to call him a weapon. A man bred to destroy. A man who was bore by two parents who only wanted him to pillage and take. When in all reality, it was quite the contrary. A devil born more than a millenia prior had the balls to believe that all men and women were identical. That Hell was even somewhat close to how Earth was. Just the idea that the fundamental concepts of Hell were even near similar to the functions of Earth got the Saiyan's blood boiling. However, there was a catch to this searing rage;
Son Gouken was such a friendly and happy person. This wasn't him. It was the remnants of animosity hidden beneath his core set by the spirit of the beast residing within his bloodline. Things like this bad triggered the anger of the Great Ape, but manifested itself in the controlled power up he had grown so used to utilizing at the moments whim. Being called an object set him off. That was an entirely new discovery. Not just any object, but something intended to harm people. Perhaps if he was called a 'Shield' or something similar, he would have been just fine. But, being called a weapon hurt and enraged him. But why? After all, it was called by someone whom he personally disliked and didn't care for the opinion of. He shouldn't have had cared. Heck, he had nothing to be mad about. He was a pretty lucky kid. Never experienced loss or harm to a incredible degree. So what was their to he mad about? Well, that was a complicated thing to truly answer. At least, without seeming selfish. There was no real denying that. Was there? Most heroes had true loss and reason, yet here was the latest Son member. Seeking reason and acting as a hero.
"Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven!"
He grunted. Releasing a number with each drop to the floor. A breath of air taken with each rise. The cold environment aiding to the heating of his body. At least, he had been left with his thoughts. Why he was seeking his own reason to defend and protect. What made him special and shine among all these stronger, more diligent men and women. The answer was so clouded that he could have long given up. The worst part was, he could have gave and not been remembered anyway. He was but a mere shadow to the titans of the galaxy. Why couldn't he be among the ranks? Why was be so low? Was it how he handled living and being? Or the assortment of his head and how he thought? Was he too gentle and needed a more angry, pressing approach? So many answers, yet most failed to properly assess his need for an epiphany. Perhaps the answer was obvious and he simply was not reaching out and stealing it for him self. Or, it was truly hidden behind the shadows of doubt and self loathing. What he had been thinking of was straight to the point, though. Son had taken several things to account. His body had kept moving in conjunction with his mind. Actually, quite the opposite. His mind had been running far faster. Gears turning and spinning at an incredible rate for someone of his caliber. Yes, quite the marvel indeed.
‘Why..? Why does it hurt? Why does it make me so angry? Is it true..? No, it can't be..Im me! I've never hurt someone who didn't deserve it..mom and pop never told me to hurt anyone, either..so, why? Is it my race? I know Saiyans are usually strong and meant for fighting, but even they differ and become more than meatsticks. Heck, I'm waiting on my peak day, m'self. Heh..hm. Look at Chris..he's a hero. He's from Vegeta, too! Yet, he's his own person. He's gentle, nice, everything a normal human is. Yet, he had his drive. His ambition. His call to heroism. He's working for something, honoring someone or some people. Even Leena had a force of muse. And she was a hunter from Vegeta, too! She's working for a strong cause! Everyone I've met has been more solid standing than me! It's not fair!’ The young man thought to himself. His brow twitching erratically, lips parting to reveal grinding rows of teeth. His pushups had halted, fists resting in the white sheet of snow, when suddenly, crack!!
Son's right fist had been raised, coming down to the Earth. Releasing a massive force of a hundred megatons unto the Earth. A massive amount of strength released from his inner strength and out through his hands. Shards of ice and debris piercing the young man's skin. The snow just barely cushioning the act. Son's mind was still racing all the while, though. Shouting, roaring the same thing. He hadn't realized how selfish he sounded. Crying like a brat who wouldn't get the toy they wanted at the moments whim. The idea that he was comparable to something like that stung twice as much. The young'un had brought his left fist up moments later. Smashing it down into the floor to dry and release the pent up emotions hidden away. The snow surrounding his landing ground stained crimson around his left and right hand. His body had gotten increasingly more cold, though. Snow practically encased him, as his raven black hair had been laced with the white sheet. His back and legs also touched. But, he didn't care. A fire inside of his stomach kept him warm. This was what Saiyan's felt, anger. He didn't like it. He hated the prickly, hateful feeling that came through his body like this. It was awful, yet he continued to use it. Keeping himself warm through the fire of rage. He felt himself slowly calm down, though. His body heat decreasing at a gradual pace.
‘Maybe I'm just not cut out to be one of them. I'm thousands of tiers weaker than the real defenders of this planet. I can feel 'em, so I'm not even pulling that one. Okay, so I'm not weak. That's for sure. I'm confident there, and it's the quality not quantity when it comes to this sorta stuff. Time to suck it up, I can't sulk and whine about it without even tryin'. There, I have my mission. I'm gonna train and expand my potential. I'll meet new people and get better, so that I can fight more people.’ The teen configured his thoughts clearly. His rage ceased in the snap of a finger and was replaced by his usual tranquility. It felt far better. By a great deal, his heart had soared and culled in beat time. Perhaps it was the cold seeping into his bloodstream, though. As his hands raised and shoved him back onto his rear end, the Saiyan had rubbed his palms together with fever.
He had to leave soon. His body had risen up, standing on his feet before slowly rising into the air. His bare body exposes to the cold atmosphere. It was a wonder how he wasn't frozen over already. As he took to the air, he had utilized whatever remaining Ki he had to rocket over the horizon. Exiting the cold weather and bursting into the tropical area of the Southern Continent. He'd need the warmth after throwing something of a tantrum in the frozen tundra of the north..
Crash!! Came down the steeled fists of Son Gouken. His body hidden beneath the starry skies of the Cold North. His body nude for the most part, his shirt and upper gi missing. Only his legs and feet encased in his usual clothing. Though, accessories such as his headband and wristbands had remained on his person. They were practically apart of the costume at this point! As his knuckles came down to the snow, they immediately were pushed back up and out of the white. His fists smashing against one another before coming down yet again. An augmented form of clapping pushups. Displaying his strength and endurance to nobody but himself. Something to note, though, was the position of Son's haircut. Pulled up, informing those who knew that he was in a powered up form rather than base. He'd need it, as the snow had still been falling. Even more so, as he was in the middle of the tundra held by the Northern Continent. Foolish, yes. But, character building, even more. His eyes remained up, on his twelve. Unmoving. Even as he rose and fell, he remained fixated on the horizon. Never looking down nor behind. Side to side, neglected. He had far too much to worry about and was in a deep rooted state of thought. The Saiyan's brow furrowed and lips curved down.
A single word had been engraved into his head; Weapon. Why? It was so harmless. It was the context used and who used it exactly that had put it to head. The term used to describe the greatest and most recent grandson of Son Goku. Uses by none other than the overcompensating ginger demon named Saki. The bio sword toting devil had referred to Son and his friend as weapons of the new generation. How dare he. A term that he had never been called before had struck him so deeply so. A gash remaining in his heart for the sheer fact of the obvious. Son was a descendant of a Saiyan mixed with a Human. The Saiyans, a warrior race, were all people who sought excitement and fought to their hearts content. Humans, a great variety bag that couldn't be pin pointed without hours being drowned simply listing the types of man. And that was without description! What infuriated Son Gouken so much was the fact that some demon who constantly preached and fluctuated from being on the offensive to the supportive side had dared to call him a weapon. A man bred to destroy. A man who was bore by two parents who only wanted him to pillage and take. When in all reality, it was quite the contrary. A devil born more than a millenia prior had the balls to believe that all men and women were identical. That Hell was even somewhat close to how Earth was. Just the idea that the fundamental concepts of Hell were even near similar to the functions of Earth got the Saiyan's blood boiling. However, there was a catch to this searing rage;
Son Gouken was such a friendly and happy person. This wasn't him. It was the remnants of animosity hidden beneath his core set by the spirit of the beast residing within his bloodline. Things like this bad triggered the anger of the Great Ape, but manifested itself in the controlled power up he had grown so used to utilizing at the moments whim. Being called an object set him off. That was an entirely new discovery. Not just any object, but something intended to harm people. Perhaps if he was called a 'Shield' or something similar, he would have been just fine. But, being called a weapon hurt and enraged him. But why? After all, it was called by someone whom he personally disliked and didn't care for the opinion of. He shouldn't have had cared. Heck, he had nothing to be mad about. He was a pretty lucky kid. Never experienced loss or harm to a incredible degree. So what was their to he mad about? Well, that was a complicated thing to truly answer. At least, without seeming selfish. There was no real denying that. Was there? Most heroes had true loss and reason, yet here was the latest Son member. Seeking reason and acting as a hero.
"Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven!"
He grunted. Releasing a number with each drop to the floor. A breath of air taken with each rise. The cold environment aiding to the heating of his body. At least, he had been left with his thoughts. Why he was seeking his own reason to defend and protect. What made him special and shine among all these stronger, more diligent men and women. The answer was so clouded that he could have long given up. The worst part was, he could have gave and not been remembered anyway. He was but a mere shadow to the titans of the galaxy. Why couldn't he be among the ranks? Why was be so low? Was it how he handled living and being? Or the assortment of his head and how he thought? Was he too gentle and needed a more angry, pressing approach? So many answers, yet most failed to properly assess his need for an epiphany. Perhaps the answer was obvious and he simply was not reaching out and stealing it for him self. Or, it was truly hidden behind the shadows of doubt and self loathing. What he had been thinking of was straight to the point, though. Son had taken several things to account. His body had kept moving in conjunction with his mind. Actually, quite the opposite. His mind had been running far faster. Gears turning and spinning at an incredible rate for someone of his caliber. Yes, quite the marvel indeed.
‘Why..? Why does it hurt? Why does it make me so angry? Is it true..? No, it can't be..Im me! I've never hurt someone who didn't deserve it..mom and pop never told me to hurt anyone, either..so, why? Is it my race? I know Saiyans are usually strong and meant for fighting, but even they differ and become more than meatsticks. Heck, I'm waiting on my peak day, m'self. Heh..hm. Look at Chris..he's a hero. He's from Vegeta, too! Yet, he's his own person. He's gentle, nice, everything a normal human is. Yet, he had his drive. His ambition. His call to heroism. He's working for something, honoring someone or some people. Even Leena had a force of muse. And she was a hunter from Vegeta, too! She's working for a strong cause! Everyone I've met has been more solid standing than me! It's not fair!’ The young man thought to himself. His brow twitching erratically, lips parting to reveal grinding rows of teeth. His pushups had halted, fists resting in the white sheet of snow, when suddenly, crack!!
Son's right fist had been raised, coming down to the Earth. Releasing a massive force of a hundred megatons unto the Earth. A massive amount of strength released from his inner strength and out through his hands. Shards of ice and debris piercing the young man's skin. The snow just barely cushioning the act. Son's mind was still racing all the while, though. Shouting, roaring the same thing. He hadn't realized how selfish he sounded. Crying like a brat who wouldn't get the toy they wanted at the moments whim. The idea that he was comparable to something like that stung twice as much. The young'un had brought his left fist up moments later. Smashing it down into the floor to dry and release the pent up emotions hidden away. The snow surrounding his landing ground stained crimson around his left and right hand. His body had gotten increasingly more cold, though. Snow practically encased him, as his raven black hair had been laced with the white sheet. His back and legs also touched. But, he didn't care. A fire inside of his stomach kept him warm. This was what Saiyan's felt, anger. He didn't like it. He hated the prickly, hateful feeling that came through his body like this. It was awful, yet he continued to use it. Keeping himself warm through the fire of rage. He felt himself slowly calm down, though. His body heat decreasing at a gradual pace.
‘Maybe I'm just not cut out to be one of them. I'm thousands of tiers weaker than the real defenders of this planet. I can feel 'em, so I'm not even pulling that one. Okay, so I'm not weak. That's for sure. I'm confident there, and it's the quality not quantity when it comes to this sorta stuff. Time to suck it up, I can't sulk and whine about it without even tryin'. There, I have my mission. I'm gonna train and expand my potential. I'll meet new people and get better, so that I can fight more people.’ The teen configured his thoughts clearly. His rage ceased in the snap of a finger and was replaced by his usual tranquility. It felt far better. By a great deal, his heart had soared and culled in beat time. Perhaps it was the cold seeping into his bloodstream, though. As his hands raised and shoved him back onto his rear end, the Saiyan had rubbed his palms together with fever.
He had to leave soon. His body had risen up, standing on his feet before slowly rising into the air. His bare body exposes to the cold atmosphere. It was a wonder how he wasn't frozen over already. As he took to the air, he had utilized whatever remaining Ki he had to rocket over the horizon. Exiting the cold weather and bursting into the tropical area of the Southern Continent. He'd need the warmth after throwing something of a tantrum in the frozen tundra of the north..