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The Next Step - [incomplete]; (Transformation 3) Hard Quest
Topic Started: Nov 14 2011, 12:36 PM (234 Views)
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The Real Red Magma
Transformation 3

Difficulty: Hard

Location: Planet Frieza

Description:
Write an RP to acquire Transformation 3.

Reward: +50 all stats, +30 Experience and Transformation 3

Available: Always
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The Real Red Magma
Night had slowly turned to day, snuffed out by the invading local star. Coming to kiss the very sky this sphere of hot gas had eliminated every distant star whom'd graced Planet Frieza with their gentle twinkle. Frieza's eyes turned away, seeking the sheltered recluse of his personal chambers. At last his great glacial palace had been rebuilt, far better than before. If anything it resembled a large laboratory - grey metallic structures, with windows few and sparsely located. The entire plot consisted of two individual blocks and a final tower positioned a few hundred feet away from the opposing complex, separated by a glamorous courtyard.

This tower, ascending up and into the overhanging cliffs, was entirely Frieza’s own personal living space. A large, formal lounge at the ground level, whilst his own quarters were poised at the very peak, surrounded on three sides by the protective mountain. The exposed wall was a slanted panel of windows, allowing the Prince to gaze upon his domain, (or but a mere fraction of it).

Frieza clamoured into the safety of his bed, evading the terrible sun that left him shielding his watering eyes. The changeling had been awake at all hours the previous night, left wondering if there was more to his changeling existence. Yes he knew he had far greater things to come in terms of conquest, domination and galactic monopoly. The Prince was lost in thought, picturing his power grow, his very body change and morph into something just as terrifying as his recently unlocked form.

The Prince had never achieved, and was unaware of, the next form that a changeling could utilise. It was every changeling’s primal goal, in fact, to seek out their true form. Frieza could feel that natural instinct burn within him, but couldn’t quite identify its cause.

As he lay there, Frieza’s mind played out the scene of the rising sun, over and over, imagining himself as the glorious ball of pure energy and sheer power as it lay waste to all opposing stars. The darkness and stars were all who oppose him, his light a resemblance of his mighty power. Oh if only such a dream could become truth. Just picture it now…

The changeling would be rolling in Zeni, his name would be forever spoken with respect and his power would be unsurpassed, just as it once was. The universe may think of the Prince a cruel being, but Frieza’s opinion of the universe is mutual. He was once a great, respected warrior and businessman. Then suddenly his great fortunes were lost and his power taken from him. It is a horrible thing to taste your dreams, only to have them ripped away.

The entire experience, however, has made Frieza stronger – mentally and emotionally at least. His dependence on minions to do his bidding has lessened (slightly) and his emotions have been exposed to influence his power, yet kept at bay to control his external reputation.

Yes the life of any Prince is a troubled existence, though Frieza’s could perhaps be considered a little more complicated than any other.

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WC: 516
Total: 5,250
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The Real Red Magma
However, as Frieza lay in the comfort of his new abode, a sinister plot had been brewing. Ever since the Prince’s reawakening the true perpetrator of the grief caused was still at large and, without the changeling’s knowing, this criminal had already set in motion another scheme.

It was then, during this moment of fragile insecurity and welcome sleep did Frieza dream. His lack of self confidence drew from his natural urge to grow in strength and yet, with his apparent loss of memory, he’d forgotten his true instincts. It seemed his unconscious was about to set him straight.

The world lay dark, sprawled out before Frieza’s feet. Soon this view grew to encompass the entire galaxy, a magnificent display of beauty soon to be dominated by the Prince’s dark influence. He watched with great fascination, the web of his conquer spreading through the star ocean like a virus, infectious and fatal. The bewildered changeling, however, stared on in relish, the powers within him stirring at the sight of such victory.

Why must you hold yourself back? Came a voice, nearly knocking Frieza off his feet. The changeling practically toppled over to realise he then had no feet…

I suppose I should have introduced with ‘fear not’?” the echoed voice admitted.

What is going on here!? Reveal yourself!” Frieza demanded, all the whilst searching for his missing lower half.

And why should I do that?

Because,” he began, giving up on the fruitless search, “I have issues with talking to disembodied voices…

A large sigh sounded, very well.

Frieza spun his neck in every which way direction, yet could not see the owner of the voice. Then, at the very corner of his eye, to the point that he nearly missed it, something caught his attention. The galaxy below that he’d been so lovingly admire in downfall began to ripple. At first just a few stars jostled, creating gentle waves that spread far quicker than the apparent influence already caused in this dream state.

Soon the entire scene was a true ocean of cascading waves, the very galaxy tumbling in upon itself, the core raising up to a great height. It was then that Frieza found himself to be quite small, the harsh wave now towering above him. Accompanied by a great flash of lightning, and the iconic pound of thunder, Frieza had been transported to an actual ocean.

The sea was a thick, unforgiving black, the sky just as relenting. Not a star could be seen. The only things barely visible were the sharp, precarious rocks that Frieza had been placed upon. Speechless at such a confusing situation, the changeling just stared up at the wave, awaiting his fate at the hands of a truly powerful force.

As the ravenous waters crashed above him, Frieza felt no pain. He felt no impoverished discomfort, nor the fleeting sense of life. In fact he felt the opposite to all those terrible things, his eyes opening amidst a cleansing sensation. The wave had washed away his insecurities, his shame and his weakness. The wave, too, had revealed the owner of the voice.

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WC: 520
Total: 1,036 / 5,250
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The Real Red Magma
Perched so gloriously a top a column of rock, arcing above the now gentle sea, was the owner of the voice. Annoyingly there was an incredibly bright light source behind said individual, magnificent shafts of yellow and white cascading down, spattering about the back of this mysterious being. Despite this annoyance, Frieza was overcome with such a beautiful sight – he found in his dream states he was not the heartless tyrant he wished to be. (The changeling was also a tad dismayed to see he was still missing his lower half).

The oceans lapped against the columns of basalt and rock, a gentle sea spray floating care free between Frieza and the shadowed man. At last it appeared that the light was fading, or at least shifting into the changeling’s advantage. The identity however, was something of a great shock to the Prince, his lips near enough dropping off his face entirely. The being was soon revealed to be –

Tapion?!” he shrieked, eyes rattling with disbelief. Frieza stumbled back once more, tired of this falling about.

Yes, Frieza, it is I…” he warmly replied, an angelic smile painted upon his well chiselled face.

What the hell are you doing here?” he spluttered between mouthfuls of saliva. The alien warrior, however, just stood in a silent, warm smile. The soothing back drop of ocean spray and singing birds was certainly uncomfortable for Frieza, especially now that the red-haired being before him had fallen silent again. “Well?!” the Prince demanded, raging voice resonating through the dream world and it’s various scenes within.

Now, let’s not be so brash, hm?” he eventually replied, soon floating elegantly toward Frieza, unimpeded by the winds that hounded his clothing, hair and motion. “I am here because you requested my presence,” he continued, much to the bewildered changeling’s self-disgust.

I would never commit such a crime!” he was quick to deny.

Ah, but you did!” Tapion affirmed with a comforting laugh – it made Frieza sick to his gut. “It was your subconscious that summoned my image – I am to be your driving force!

What in the –” the changeling was near speechless, fumbling around his thumbs and words, unsure of what to make of the situation, “what do you mean ‘driving force’?

Tapion again produced the silent, wise smile. It was certainly wearing on Frieza now, his teeth grinding out of impatient chagrin.

To transform, of course!


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WC: 410

Total: 1,446 / 5,250
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Frieza's brain stung upon registering what 'Tapion' had uttered. Surely it could not be true. Why, of all people, would the changeling allegedly conjure up the red-haired alien? It made little sense, the Prince’s eyes rattling as he couldn’t bring himself to look at anything else other than the chipped, worn down column of rock that he stood upon.

You look so surprised, Frieza…” Tapion admitted with a mellow sigh, his body taking gentle flight and approaching the short changeling through the means of levitation. The taller warrior came to rest beside Frieza, a comforting pat to the head, “don’t wor-

Back off!” Frieza spat, slapping the hand away with a wild fury, his tail swing around to bat away the always friendly alien. “This is madness, I would never do such a ridiculous thing!” he affirmed, though his belief in his own words was shaky.

Tapion maintained his calm, collected composure and unbreakable grin, “is it a sign of weakness that you called upon me for help, Frieza?” The changeling’s fingers began to flex under the rage and taunting – anyone whom had met one knew that a changeling could never admit fear, weakness or defeat. It defied their biological programming; never could they lose; never could they show signs of weakness. A changeling was to prove his skill and power by himself – he did not need another.

I am fully capable of continuing on my path by myself, Tapion,” he muttered, turning his back, only to find the Konats had shifted positions near immediately. “Besides,” the changeling grumbled, forcing his way past Tapion, “there is another out there stronger than you, so you are not the logical choice, I’m afraid to say –[color]”

I’m glad you still remember me,” a deep, female voice snickered against the gentle spray of water below. Frieza’s heart sank ever further – why was he surrounded by his worst fears!?

Vega?!” the changeling cried out, spinning to look for the bitch whom scorned him so. Tapion, too, appeared to be searching for the Saiyan.

Who else?” A figure burst from an unknown position, launching through the sky and landing, boots cracking the very rock beneath them, her strength undeniable. Shrouded by a cape of some sorts, Frieza scrambled to remove the piece of cloth out of irritation.

Why the hell are you wearing this cape?” he demanded, shaking his fist with the material scrunched up within as though he were scolding a child.

I dunno,” she shrugged, “I just felt like it would make a nice change…

Frieza soon realised just how ridiculous this situation was getting. Had he been taking any drugs lately?! He couldn’t muster forward any memories, his head soon pounding, veins throbbing and heart racing as his two mortal enemies soon approached, their generally care-free attitudes fading into expressions of sinister intent.

What do you want from me?!

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WC: 477

Total: 1,923 / 5,250
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