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| The Source Quest; JL | |
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| Topic Started: May 4 2013, 02:49 PM (140 Views) | |
| Rem | May 4 2013, 02:49 PM Post #1 |
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The Super Namek
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| Kularian | May 5 2013, 02:33 AM Post #2 |
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Undefeated ADBZ Tourney 2013 Champion
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Weightless. Free. Alive. These words managed to come to mind, of the thing that wasn't. There was little that he had thought about in many years, but there was nothing more that he could do, now. Whatever that... wolf thing had done, by killing him, he'd been freed from the Shadow Realm. He was... alive. Breath came suddenly, a ragged gasp of air in a darkened room. Heavy coughing followed, and then a hand reached out, seeking something, anything. As if by luck, or perhaps fate, a decanter of water was nearby. The frail arm reached out, grasping it, and pulling it closer to him. He began to drink, coughing several times as the water flooded his time-dried throat, opening the passage that hadn't been used in... too long. “I'm...alive...” the voice spoke, without really knowing what that meant. And then the memories came rushing back to him. He was one of the studies under Ja'zel, and somewhere, something had happened, and his mind had been severed from his body. But the Astral Realm had not been his home; it had been the other realm, that of the shadows. He didn't recall how he had managed there, but he had survived. There were others, that arrived. Always, the animosity of the shadow realm turned them against one another, no matter how much he craved an ally. They fought, and then he killed them, robbing them of their lives and mind, devouring it to keep his own intact. But now... now there was something different in his body. He didn't recall, but he knew that at one point, he had been a Kanassian, like so many others. But now... he was something else. Something different. He reached out his hand, but could not see; there was no light, here. He would have assumed that he would have been buried in some form of crypt, but there had been water. Why had there been water? Then a noise, and a crack of light flooded the inside. The man hissed, his eyes closing shut as the pupils contracted, trying to shut out any and all light that came in. It had been... aeons, it felt like, since he had last seen sunlight. How long had it even been? How long had he been trapped in the realm of shadows? There were no answers, but he heard the sound of someone approaching. His eyes opened a crack, the pupil closed to a pinprick as he saw that the decanter of water that he had drank from had held a flower at some point. It had been a vase, not something meant for him to drink. Whatever it was, there was little that he could do. With a grunt, the body tried to move, to roll over, but he could not do so. He continued to hear the sounds of approach, and wondered what would happen when they found him. Would they be elated? Frightened? Horrified? He did not know, but could not put together anything more from there, as he tried to move, but his body was atrophied, it seemed like. The reach of his arm... had that really been him? Had he done that? A form came around the corner, a young Kanassian in robes, with a cart, full of vases. He approached for a moment before turning left, taking the vase upon the pedastal near another body, before replacing it with one of the ones he brought with him. And so he moved, going around in a circle, replacing each as he came, until he paused by the one where our hero lay, and looked at the spilled vase. “Do you breathe?” The question was a simple enough one, and the body did not answer, at first. Mostly because he didn't know if he could, or should. But the hooded Kanassian simply watched him for what seemed like several minutes before he finally managed a “Yes,” out. The hooded priest simply nodded, and continued to make his rounds. He finished replacing the vases amongst the different pedastals, before he returned to the lone figure, who lay in the crypt bed, as he figured he was located at. “Welcome back to our world, elder. It has been over four thousand years since you last walked upon this ground.” The words were simple, calm, and matter-of-fact, but they sent chills through his body. Four thousand years? How was that even possible? “Your mind has returned to you from beyond the Veil of Shadows. Those who led this insurrection have all since perished, and peace reigns. But as each calamity befalls our people, one of those who had been imprisoned is freed, and able to make one last sacrifice for our race.” He looked up then, and saw the Kanassian's eyes. They were completely white- this one was blind. “What... what is happening?” he responded, not fully understanding the situation at hand. The Acolyte said nothing, and simply handed the vase to him, which was taken. The Acolyte simply watched, the milk-white eyes staring into tnothingness, but seemed as though he saw the void of his very soul. Again, the figure drank. “The flower is a Nuesz herb; it is an ancient remedy, and will restore strength to your body. Please, drink.” The words were, again, so completely without emotion and thought that he wondered if this one even had an idea of what was going on. But his voice was soft, and the figure could detect no signs of lying or dishonesty from the Acolyte as he finished off the water. It did not fill him, and seemed to gather within his limbs as he sat there, letting the water flow through his body. And then, he moved. Strength returned to his limbs as he sat up, looking around. “Where... am I? What is happening?” The words seemed to echo emptily around, as if his body and soul didn't belong here, as if he lacked an aspect of life. “Sadly, Elder, you lack time. The reunion of your soul and body is only twelve hours. With the water of the Nuesz herb, you may have as many as sixteen, before you perish.” The words were again, simple. Nothing unnecessary in what was spoken. “Those who had imprisoned your mind within the Realm of Shadows have resurfaced, and are killing our bretheren. They infect the mind, and shatter the psychic link that connects us all, and then devour their mind. We've had a half-dozen deaths within the week, and more will occur as it spreads.” The man frowned, shaking his head slowly. “What... would you have me do?” he spoke, and the blind Kanassian extended a hand, pointing to the stairwell that he had come from. “You are the only one that can combat them, Elder. You returned to us for a reason, and I can think of none other. Only when we require the aid of the ancients do the hands of fate intervene. Please, Elder, save us before our minds are all destroyed.” There were no more words as the blind Acolyte turned from him, and started to make his way from him. The figure frowned, before he gave a nod. He was... brought here, by that wolf creature, to save his people. There was no other reason. His body was covered in a similar cloak to the Acolyte, and he moved, the figure darting up the stairs, moving to fulfill his own destiny. There was nothing more in his mind. It was near eight hours later before he found one of the Kanassians who was suffering from the malady, and he placed his hand over the other's face, entering into the mind without a second thought, or an invitation. The mind was about to break, with a deep shadow that covered it all. “I will help my people. There will be nothing that will stop me from this task.” A light began to build within him then as his mind reached out to theirs, melding with it, becoming one with it. There was then an explosion of mental force, as the figure's mind erupted, scattering the mind of the evil that lurked within the Kanassian's own mind. The figure's body faded away, into nothing, leaving no trace that he had ever existed, save for the Kanssian that recalled seeing a figure robed in white, who had come from nowhere to assist him. Legends were told of this day, and it was not unheard of for this tale to be spread to others, as unlikely and impossible though it seemed. – The sound of a wheeled cart echoed throughout the darkness, before coming to a stop. “Do you breathe?” WC: 1450 |
![]() Ayakon: He has a chance. A fool's chance, but a chance. And if there's one thing FG is... it's a fool. | |
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| Rem | May 5 2013, 04:02 AM Post #3 |
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The Super Namek
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The beasts of Kult were defeated, and while that might have sounded good, the fact of the matter was that Rem was still terrified, and he had still lost the Black dragon ball to the menace. He had to get it back. Like, it wasn't even an option. All Rem knew was that a namekian that was presumably hundreds or thousands oyears old was collecting a set of Dragon balls that Rem had never before heard of in his entire life. Dragon balls were orange, and there were a set of seven on them on the worlds they were created upon. He hadn't had the black one in his possession for more than a few hours before being attacked by the being known as Kult. The two of them had battled over an hour before Kult had taken the ball and left, leaving the dogs to hound rem. Before leaving he had promised that once Rem reached the peak ofhis power and potential, THEN Kult would absorb him. Rem realized one thing, above all else: he had to get stronger. He had to increase his power as fast and as high as possible, so that HE could be the one to surprise and take down cult. Only, he had no idea how to do that. He had started this journey of his in order to gain power, and this soon into it he was to discover that his power was too low, and he was in danger of dying. How the hell was he going to increase his strength. He left the justice league and all he knew behind for this purpose... but was it a mistake? He had gotten mightly stronger hanging out with Kular, Sai, Gohan and the rest of the guys in their league. But, it wasn't enough. His enemies were still able to get an advantage over him, to defeat him. The justice league had fallen to the enemies on Namek, and that could never be allowed to happen again... But here he was, facing another enemy that had beaten him down near easily. "I have to leave..." Rem realized. That was the only possibility. Kult would wait, Kult would come for him in time, obviously, now that he knew a Namekian as strong as Rem existed within this galaxy. So weather or not Rem stayed now and tried to defeat Cult wouldn't exatly matter in the slightest. in time, once he had gained the power that he knew would be required to deal with Kult, once he was strong enough that Kult actually cosndiered him worthy of absorbing, only then would Rem actually be capable of fighting him. It would have to be a battle to the death, and Rem could never accept defeat. With that knowledge in hand, Rem went on ahead and flew back to the village of the Kanassans. They had been helpful as hell the last few weeks as he stayed here, helping him learn and relearn the techniques of yore that he had known and used. He was beginning to get the most elementary grasps of those things and ways they had used. No longer would they be able to overwhelm him and defeat him with their powers as they had done that first time they had surprised him with the wide array of powers and such. He had been unused to that style of fighting and such and hadn't expected it, or known any defenses to it. Now... Now, however, Rem could take them on at their own game. He appreciated what they had done for him, and what they had given him, and he would use it, add it to his list of abilities and skills within his arsenal that he used to fight the good fight. Perhaps, if he had more power in them, greater understanding and more practice with them, he could have stood firmer against the one named Kult. But, well, he would just have to learn to better control these new powers. That was the only real option. "Lord Oday..." Were Rem's first words as he landed within the village he had spent so much time in the last few weeks. He walked the few feet to the tiny, green skinned master of telepathy and telekenesis. "I will be departing within the hour." Rem went to one knee before the old man. Bowing his head slightly. "I know. Oday said, turning away from Rem, his arms behind his back. "I knew when you arrived how long you would be staying, such is my power." He nodded a bit, and then continued on. "Staying longer would give you the chance to perfect your powers, but it would not give you the power or adventure that you truly seek. So I will not attempt to convince you to stay. In truth, I am almost glad it is over... I have never seen my own homeworld, having waited here since before my own birth for your arrival. My people and I will be leaving within a few days as well." Rem nodded as he rose to his feet. Oday turned at the same time and the two came together. Their hands met and for a few seconds of silence the two of them simply stood there, hands clenched together, showing their respect for one another. "You will meet Kult again, I promise you... And you will lose the battle." Oday warned, "What that means... is not clear, yet. Defeat may not mean death... your choices from this day forward will decide how the future plays out for you." Rems head cocked to the side as he considered what the other was saying. Such... ambiguousness was not appreciated it, or wanted. It made little sense. If he was to fight Kult and lose, then wouldnt it make sense that he'd also be absorbed? Or not... Whatever... He would worry about it when the time came, he guessed. 983//983//2433 |
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| Rem | May 5 2013, 05:28 PM Post #4 |
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The Super Namek
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There were a few others in the Kanassan settlement that Rem needed to say his farewells to, and he did. With that done, however, it was time to finally get out of here. He'd made some new allies, new enemies, and discovered there was a lot more than he had known about this universe in terms of mysteries and power- Including that Black Dragon Ball that he had lost to the other Namekian, Kult. All that done, Rem walked back to his ship. He walked slowly, thinking over all that had happened to him over the last few weeks, thinking of his life choices, what and where he was, was going, and wanted to become... He could stop this, right now. ALl he had to do was get back to his ship, turn around, and head home. He could meet up with Kular and talk out their problems, see if he could help the other through whatever he was going through... He could get back to training, gaining his strength the good old fashioned way, protect the people that were dear to him, and generally just continue on the path that had been laid out before him through his own actions and such... Or, he could turn his back on everyone. He could get on his ship and head out to the great unknown. He could continue on this strange journey that seemed to be calling him. As much as the idea of going back home and mending fences without everyone sounded great, he just... couldn't. He had greater battles and enemies to fight than those he had been fighting recently. He had a greater destiny. If he allowed himself to be mired down in small scale enemies and battles, then he would not be prepared when the time came for his true calling, when he would be needed most. Sure, the galaxy would go through some more growing pains without him there, but in the end he felt that what he was doing would be justified. "Paryl, we're leaving..." Rem said as he returned back to his ship, saw his friend and student, and passed by him, solemn and serious as he passed the other and strolled back aboard. he went to the bridge where Zell was. "We're continuing on..." Rem said, that single command deciding the fate of himself and those abouard his ship. They would continue on... He only hoped too much time didn't pass before he was able to return to this part of the galaxy. Rem dismissed himself from the bridge then, heading back to his room and laying down for a bit. He had had a hell of a day, and wanted nothing more than to rest for a while and recoup some of the energy he had losr fighting Kult, and to let his bruises and all that shit heal as well, he really did feel kind of like shit. Within minutes he felt the ship shudder as it took off from the ground, and then more as it blasted thrugh the atmosphere and into space... AS his eyes closed, he wondered where he would be when he awoke. 563//1546//2996 |
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| Android 16 | May 5 2013, 07:10 PM Post #5 |
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Santa's Little Helper
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The sweet ecstacy of battle, that was what Gohan lived for these days. It had been so long since his body and his spirit were his own that he didn't even fight against the will o the Titan anymore. He couldn't fight against it. He would continue to lie in wait, to prepare for the day that he could break free of it- or at least that was what he told himself, but until then, he had to take his joys where he could get them. Battle... Death, destruction. That was all that was for him anymore, that was the only time he was truly allowed to be free, to do what he would, to fight with his own majesty and power against whatever foe that the lord of the titans had decided was to be his opponenet. Gohan had not had a foe to fight for days. Since the last time Gohan had tried to rip off the eye, the clear membrane that covered his face, Cronus had tightened his control to a degree that before had been unknown to Gohan. He had been standing in the same exact spot for three days, as if waiting for something to happen. He could not move. Twice per day, near sun up and down down, he felt his arms freed enough from the grip of the other to make small movemements. He would use these periods to relieve himself, to eat, and to stretch out his muscles as well as he might before he was locked down again, and kept from doing anything. He thought he'd go insane from sher boredom if the other didn't let loose on him eventually, but it seemed that the time had come to kill someone again. Mid day on the third day, Gohan felt the restraints on his body relax, and felt himself capable of movement. In his head there was a twitch, a pull and he knew that was where Cronus wanted him to go. If he didn't go that way, he wuld feel a rather intense pain go through his body, and he would be forced that way anyway. There was no escape. So, in order to keep himself from that Pain and to keep Cronus from putting even stricter and more stringent forms of restraint and control over him, Gohan did what it wanted. The boy went the direction he was being pulled, towards the east. He wondered who or what he was being forced to kill this time, but soon put the question out of his mind. He really didn't care. He was actually looking forward to it. Freedom, for the first time in the better part of a week he would be loosed, compltetly from the holds upon him to do what he had to do to win a fight. Part of him, a small part somewhere in the back of his mind, still raged against the idea that he was simply the hand, the tool of another persons will... But, hell, he couldn't really do anything against it, could he. Besides, what did he need to be his own person for. As far as he could tell anyone and everyone that he had ever cared for was dead. No one would miss him, no one would come for him. HE was simply... Alone, a corpse that still walked along. If Cronus wanted to use his strength, to put him to use... Then so be it, that was his lot. Gohan wondered, at times, whether those thoughts were his own, were those of Cronus trying to lull him into doing what it wanted, or were in fact simply a defensive barrier, things he thought because any other thoughts would be dangerous, would break his heart and mind. Whatever they were, whoever they came from didn't particularly matter. He had a job to do... He had to kill again. Within a half hour Gohan knew he was coming up on his enemy. He could feel the excitement of the beast within him, and knew that soon he would fight. Sure enough, as he came over a last ridge he saw a dozen Kanassans, standing around a fire. There was something... wrong with them. They stood in a small circle, swaying and moaning back and forth. That was the first thing he noticed as he came to a stop, landing upon the ground a few fet away and walking towards them. Their moans were inhuman, strange. They seemed to be in some sort of pain. Gohan wondered which one, or if all of them, he was to fight. It made no sense, whatever was going on, and he hoped they would at least be able to put up some sort of fight... But as he got close, he felt the hand, the control of the titan settle over him again, stopping him, holding him in place. It never did that before a fight, what the hell... What the hell was going on. Gohan raged at what was happening. He was promised he would be able to fight, it couldn't do this, not now.. not so soon after being freed, not without being able to use and stretch his body in combat... But even as he stood there, he felt the power of the titan as it spread over the weird Kanassans. In moments, they stopped moaning. They turned towards him. Their eyes were glazed over for a few moments, and then flashed red and black. HE had not seen kanassans with eyes like that while he had been on this world, so it was obvius to him that the titan lord had done something to them... And then he felt their minds... Felt their thoughts mixing with his. Cronus, apparently, had taken them over... And added them to his force... Gohan... gohan did not like this. 966/966//3962 |
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| Rem | May 5 2013, 08:46 PM Post #6 |
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The Super Namek
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He was second guessing himself. he couldn't help it, and assumed he would be doing so for many months to come. Months... years? It would be a long time before Rem would return to this portion of the galaxy. He knew there would be suffering and death he could stop, if only he was to stay... But he just couldn't do it. He had responsibilities that stretched beyond those of the Justice League, of Earth, of even the Protectorate. Rem, quite frankly, had too much potential and power to damn himself to a life time of helping people. He could remember the greater portion of his former life now, could remember that he had once stood against the greatest evil the multiverse had ever known... And had not won. For thousands of years Rem had stood against the Unformed, and had kept him in check- but victory had never been within his grasp. He had thought, for a while, that he might be able to. When he was at his peak and the unformed was in constant retreat, was shrinking in size and power, yeah, Rem had thought he would be able to defeat it for all time and space. But it had been a fools thought. The unformed had pulled back, had waited. It had time on its side where Rem hadn't. Over a thousand years time Rem had gone from a young, powerful warrior to a wizened, old Namekian. At some point he lost the sheer exuberance and capabilities he'd had as a younger fighter. And it was too late by then. By the time he was old, Rem realized that too much of his life had passed away, and that he had been fooled by the Unformeds constant retreat. The unformed had never been under the threat of imminent defeat or death. He had simply been concentrating and conserving his power. Rem, with the help of the Saiken, had come together for the first time in a long time near the end of his life. They knew they had one last chance to turn the tides against the father of evil forever. And they had failed. Saiken had pulled all the versions of himself from across the multiver. Rem had summoned the power of Valhalla, and the Einharjar to his side. They had fought for days, for weeks perhaps. Time within the nexus was a fluid concept, unable to be grasped. They had destroyed thousands, millions of minions of the unformed. They had mortally wounded the Avatar... But it had not been enough. The Valhallans had fallen, as had the Einharjar. The alternate versions of the Saiken had been cast back to their own universes. In the end, Rem and Saiken had stood alone against still more minions of the unformed than they could have taken out. They had fought for as long as they may, but in the end... They were forced to flee or die, and death was not a possibility, would have been the most irresponsible thing they could have done. Years had passed after that. Rem and the Saiken had never seen each other again. Their greatest effort and best chance had been for naught. Even before the return of the Hostess, and Rem's choice to die, the Unformed had been advancing again, smelling and knowing the weakness of his foes, and taking advantage of it. All of it... all of their efforts for naught. That, more than anything else, had Broken Rem- had been the prime motivating factor in asking to die. But he had not died. The hostess had allowed him to spread his essence back upon the multiverse, but she must have known what would happen... The Unformed had come for him. In thousands of universes across space and time Rem had been murdered by his ancient foe- and in each Unvierse he died the remainders got stronger, and were returned with more memories of who he was. Now, Rem and a bare handful of others existed across the multiverse. Each of them waited for death, waited for the death of the others. They must all, by then, know that one of them would become the Prime- only time would decide who it would be. That... that was why Rem had to leave his friends and people behind. That was why he had to leave the Justice League in the hands of his pals. He had things to accomplish. Find, and save the people of Tayou, prepare for his war with the unformed, and if possible... Find a way to reestablish a connection with the Hostess. She... she must know he was here, there had to be a reason she hadn't contacted him by now... Perhaps she, like the various Rem's, was waiting to see which one would be the worthy one, which to establish as the Nexus Champion once more. He had to hope that was it, and not that she had passed him over, had gone on to someone else. Time and Space were different in each universe, but the Nexus was seperate from all of those. It had its own rules, so he knew... She had to be waiting for him. He... would find Tayou, Find the Hostess... And above all else, he would find himself, and restablish himself as the Rem Prime. He had to hope for that, because the altenative was to accept that he was simply a fragment of the prime, and soon he would die so that another could take that place.. 912//2458//4874 |
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