| Welcome to Alex's DBZ RPG 5 Forum. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Assuming Responsibility | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: May 11 2015, 07:08 PM (361 Views) | |
| Vash | May 11 2015, 07:08 PM Post #1 |
![]()
Gross...
|
Title: Assuming Responsibility Location: Ruins of Cauldron/Suicide Station Difficulty: Hard Description: You've been working hard for Siberius and have gotten sick of seeing how easy Barnak, Siberius' right hand man, has it. It's time for a promotion. One way or another, get Siberius to acknowledge you as his new right hand man, or get rid of Barnak in a way that throws off suspicious- whatever works best. Reward: +1,000 zeni, +12 DP, +125 all stats, +12 Rp Credits, and -1 Alignment. Bonus:+1,000 zeni Requirement: Working for the Man quest complete. |
![]() WIKI // THEME SONG 2015 ROLE PLAY OF THE YEAR WINNER!! | |
![]() |
|
| Vash | May 12 2015, 01:33 PM Post #2 |
![]()
Gross...
|
An office door went flying backwards, ripped from its hinges and shattered against the back wall, splintering into a thousand pieces. A shadowy figure appeared in the brightly lit doorway opening, it's silhouette the only thing visible. "Come on, Minho, I know you are in there, you don't want me to destroy your entire office looking for you, now do you?" the darkened outline spoke into the darker room. A scuffling sound resonated through the office, quickly followed by a closet door opening. A whimpering man wearing glasses sulked and slowly walked into the middle of the room, turning on a light. "I'm... I'm sorry, Vash! Please, don't hurt me!" Minho cried out, pleading for mercy. Vash took a few steps closer to the cowering man in the middle of the room, who promptly dropped down and bent his knee, an even further display of begging. Vash grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and lift him up off of his feet. The man dangled by the demon's grasp. "You haven't been paying your monthly tax to Siberius, Minho. Now, just how fair do you think that is? Are you not grateful for his protection?" Vash growled out of his clenched teeth. "Or do you believe you are no longer in need of it?" "N-- No... I appreciate Lord Siberius' mercy as well as his protection!" Minho stammered, his body struggled only a little bit, mostly out of reflexes. It was not wise to provoke Vash the enforcer, as many over the last few weeks had come to find out. "Then why haven't you paid him? Your establishment is profitable, is it not?" Vash shook the man a few times to get him to stop squirming. "My... My daughter... Inoha... She has fallen ill... I... I need to care for her!" Minho screamed out, getting a little splash of saliva on the demon's face. With Vash's free hand, he raised it up to his cheek and wiped the disgusting discharge from his visage. A grin stretched across his face. "Siberius needs to be paid, Minho," Vash insisted. "I understand, Vash!" Tears began to stream down Minho's face in desperation. "But, my daughter! Inoha! She will surely die if I cannot afford her treatments!" "The safe, Minho! Where is it?!" Vash was beginning to lose his patience with the weakling. If his daughter needed medical attention, then he should have done more, earned more money in order to care for her. Siberius needed to get his money, at all cost. That was Vash's job here today. He had strict instructions from Siberius himself. Minho let out a soft whimper, his eyes accidentally darted to family portrait. Minho, his wife, his daughter, Inoha, and a family pet were eloquently captured in a painting hung in a golden frame on the wall. Vash's smile turned upside down, and with a quick flick of his wrist, he sent Minho flying across the room and smashed into his own desk, crushing it under the force of the blow. Vash took a few steps across the room, his boots clicked against the hard wood floor. His hands reached up and felt the edge of the gold frame. His fingers caressed their smooth edges before he tightened his grip around it. He ripped it from the wall and flung it across the room like a frisbee, causing it to stick into the wall on the opposite side of the office. The safe was implanted firmly in the space where the painting was just hanging. The smile returned to Vash's face as he wrapped his hand around the handle. With a burst of strength, he was able to rip the safe's door from its hinges, and tossed it over his shoulder. A few family heirlooms, some important looking documents, most likely birth certificates, deeds, items of that nature, and a few small stacks of bills lay neatly in their own special places. Vash grabbed the cash and began to count it as he walked out of the office. Minho grunted from the pile of rubble where the neatly organized desk once stood. Vash paused and looked at the pathetic mess. There was a point in his life where he may have taken pity on the man, allowed him to keep some of his money. But that Vash was long gone. He had one goal and one goal only. Find Rem. Then, and only then would the answers to his questions would be revealed. And, in order to do that, he needed to play by Siberius' rules. There was no room for the weak. Vash shook his head and continued out of the office, counting Siberius' tax money and whistling a melodic jingle on his way out. WC 790 |
![]() WIKI // THEME SONG 2015 ROLE PLAY OF THE YEAR WINNER!! | |
![]() |
|
| Rem | May 13 2015, 12:12 AM Post #3 |
![]()
The Super Namek
|
Assuming Responsibility: --Present Day – Can you imagine the thought of having your loved ones, friends, compatriots, and loyal followers being under threat of enslavement and death for the better part of half a year? What must it take out of a man to know that their lives and freedom rested firmly upon his shoulders being able to bear the weight and brunt of a petty dictator, whose whims and desires had to be followed lest catastrophe and heartache result? As Vash left the office of Minho he didn’t spot the dark figure standing in the shadows down the opposite corridor. Rem didn’t make the mistake of watching Vash as he left. There was a sort of primordial, subconscious feeling people got when they were being watched. Instead, Rem unfocused his eyes and let them free roam across the area in which the demon man simply happened to be passing each moment that followed the next. It was a technique for spying he had learned years ago, and was pretty sure it had kept him from being discovered on multiple occasions. After Vash turned a corner and was gone, the Namekian sighed and began to walk forward. His head was hurting, and the bright lights and loud sounds of Suicide Station weren’t helping. A half bottle of space aspirin hadn’t really helped his hangover. A few weeks before he had the strangest dream. In it, he had seen an old friend from the past, and that friend had attacked him. Rem dreamt continually, and many of those dreams were about dead friends and allies, but this one had been different. He had known Vash would eventually find his way to Suicide Station. Even knowing it, weeks had passed before the Namekian was capable of getting through even a few hours without his liquid medication. Inebriation allowed Rem to do the work Siberius forced upon him. Cracking down on competitors, damaging unwanted vessels that came into the Stations territory, and generally making sure that nothing and no one threatened the status quo upon suicide station. Sober, as he was now (or mostly so), and Rem’s soul began to grow heavy. Minho was a nobody here on Suicide Station. He ran one of the accounting services for the various bars and clubs that Siberius allowed to operate, as long as he got his cut. Once he was sure Vash was well and truly gone, Rem moved into the office. The sight of the tall, emerald skinned warrior caused the red skinned, white haired alien to open his eyes wide in surprise and fear. “Don’t… Don’t hurt me, I paid. I paid!” He shrieked, one hand indicating the broken safe. Rem didn’t blame the man for his fear, and he wasn’t the first who had looked at Rem like that. Sorreh, the name he went by on Cauldron, was feared by many. Nausea and bile roiled together within the Namek’s stomach. He wanted to evacuate his stomach. How… how had he let himself become this… this kind of person? For Jen? Paryl? The others? What would they say if they knew that he had become a violent whore, for the promise of their survival… “Peace, Min.” Rem said in his most soothing of voices. He strode to the man and with two fingers, touched the aliens forehead. The mans face morphed into surprise, pain, relief, and something near ecstacy before regaining its natural state, all within a second. Min’s eyes widened as he looked at his arm, which had been broken just seconds before, immaculately repaired. The blood that had been creeping down his forehead was gone as well. “Min… I’m going to ask you for a favor.” The Namekian moved over to the open safe and looked inside. Minho, unable to speak due to shock and the simple overwhelming nature of the situation and sequence of events, stood there looking at Rems back. The Namekian reached into the safe and took out a simple, elegant gold necklace with some sort of pendant. Rems mouth twisted into a smile as he realized it was a small phoenix. How… coincidental. A bright white/green light rose in the nearly destroyed office of Minho. The Namekian channeled energy into the pendant, then more. It glowed bright, giving off an almost audible pulsing aura of power. “You’ve seen I can heal.” Rem said simply to Minho, whom he had just healed less than a minute previous. “Take this necklace, put it around your daughters neck. If she needs another doctors visit in the next 10 years, I am not half as skilled as I think I am.” Rem turned then, looking upon the Space Australian. “I’m going to ask you for a favor… in a few days. Go home. See your daughter. If you will help me, have your new door…” Rem looked to the destroyed door vash had bashed in, “Painted Green.” With that, the Namekian placed two fingers to his own forehead and disappeared. He was supposed to be overseeing the inspection of a cargo vessel at the moment, and any more time away from his duties would cause Siberius to grow suspicious. “Inspections” generally entailed taking a bribe for Siberius in order to let illicit goods into Suicide Station. It was one of the least criminal activities the Icosian had Rem doing… -888 |
|
[align=center]<center><DIV id="scroll3" style="width:490; height:100; overflow:auto; border: 2px solid; text-align: center; vertical-align: text-bottom; background-image:url('http://puu.sh/juatU/2b02a867a8.jpg'); font-weight:bold; color:darkblue"> <br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div> </DIV></center>[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| Rem | May 13 2015, 01:43 AM Post #4 |
![]()
The Super Namek
|
Finding decent people in this shithole of a place was difficult. Usually, a certain kind of person ended up on Suicide Station, and decent was not the word to describe them. Dentas was an exception to the rule. Once, he had been the scion of a powerful family on Kelioux. The son of a delegate to the Keliouxan Congress. However, when the world had been destroyed, his entire family, their holding, properties, heirlooms, and wealth went with them. Dentas had been a young man in those days; off world, getting his education on Avalon- more of a political move than for the prestige of the university. When Cauldron had been wiped out, Dentas had dropped out of college, even though Avalon had offered a hardship scholarship. He had joined a band of fellow Caudronians who had been off planet, and had spent a few years flying through the ever expanding debris field. There was little to be found of worth, excluding the massive rocks which could be mined. Occasionally, however, a museum vault, or one owned by a rich family, would be found mostly intact. A few rare, oh so precious pieces of art, heirlooms, and artifacts of the Cauldron people had been saved by these young survivors. Dentas had been awarded various awards and titles by the Keliouxan Empire, and had been offered lands on a dozen worlds to start a new homestead. Instead, he chose to stay near his ancestral home- a final protector and watchman for the dead and lost. When Rem had discovered Dentas- and who/what he was- he had grown very fond of the man. He had a nobility that few would appreciate. It took a survivor of a dead planet to truly understand another. In Rem’s past, the future as everyone else would see it, his own Planet- New Namek- had been destroyed in a massive 200 year war. The surviving Namekians had immigrated to a Starship Graveyard, the site of one of the largest battles of the war. Thousands of ships and vessels from dozens of species and worlds had come together and destroyed one another in staggering numbers. Years later, the Namekians would come to live in those ruined vessels. Living off recycled air and ever failing power conduits salvaged from the dead vessels. His race had turned nearly feral in the intervening years. They had trained their minds and bodies, and all across the universe the Namekian Psyssassins had been feared for their cold, brutal, unforgiving, and unseen method of murdering those they felt responsible for their lot. Three times Namekians had suffered near genocide, and twice their entire planet had been destroyed. After that final time, they had simply been unable to forget, forgive, or accept passively the brutality of the other races. In any case, Rem respected Dentas. He had befriended him in secret. Dentas was protected from Siberius, due to his status and stature, but it had still taken him a long time to trust the drunken, broken hearted Namekian thug who claimed he was forced to work for Siberius. Dentas hated Siberius. He hated suicide station. He hated the mining vessels that slowly but surely carved up the remnants of his world so other races and planets could benefit. He wanted Cauldron protected, left alone… But the Keliouxan government didn’t agree, so he was powerless. Dentas and Minho were the first two people Rem had tried to make contact with, form a plan with, since this entire escapade had started… He hoped Minho was thankful enough to help him. He really needed someone with knowledge of the financial structure and systems around Cauldron. If he was ever going to get his JL funds back, or find another way to fix his financial problem, someone like Minho would be irreplaceable. Dentas had the power of the underground. Not many of his friends or fellow Cauldronians lived on Suicide Station, but he could call in help and favors if he wanted… Ships and men would come. Rem didn’t want to start a war on Cauldron, but if he was going to be sober… Then damn it, he was going to finish what SIberius had started all those months ago. He would burn this place to the ground if it meant getting Jen and his friends back. The only question was… Where would Vash fit in? Could Rem use him? He seemed… different. Less mellow, more driven and dark than the Namekian could recall from all those years ago. It had been so very long, it seemed, since he had been Runnin’ with the Devil. 765/1653 TWC: 2443 (out of 5750 reqd) |
|
[align=center]<center><DIV id="scroll3" style="width:490; height:100; overflow:auto; border: 2px solid; text-align: center; vertical-align: text-bottom; background-image:url('http://puu.sh/juatU/2b02a867a8.jpg'); font-weight:bold; color:darkblue"> <br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div> </DIV></center>[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| Vash | May 13 2015, 01:56 PM Post #5 |
![]()
Gross...
|
Several weeks had passed since Vash had taken his first job for Siberius. In that time he had grown accustomed to the ins and outs of Siberius' daily operations. The bribes, the threats, the drug deals, the smuggling... Everything that happened on Suicide Station Siberius had his greedy little paws in, and time after time Vash was proving his mettle as a valuable asset in the Iconians cache of henchmen and colleagues. Each day, each job that Vash performed rose his status within the overlord's hierarchy. The demon felt it was only a matter of time before he would reach the coveted position of Siberius' right hand man. There were a few problems with that sentiment, however. The first of which being that Vash didn't really even want it. Truth be told, he despised working for the overlord. To this point, he was little more than a hired thug, essentially an errand boy of sorts, collecting money, paying off authority figures, and overseeing shipments of intergalactic narcotics both incoming as well as outgoing. Cauldron was a central hive for a massive drug operation. It kept the low life's in line, stuck in their depressing niche, hooked on the drugs, and eager enough to work in order to feed their addictions. It also provided the monetary force Siberius needed to pay for his hired hands and to help fund his more lucrative exploits. Vash absolutely despised everything about the drug game. Addiction was a sign of weakness. He wanted nothing to do with it. But, in order to get what he wanted, he needed to play along and do what he was told. Then, there was the competition. Siberius kept his list of underlings largely secret. Sure, he had select groupings that worked together when certain situations would arise, but the pairings were almost always the same. Siberius was in constant paranoia of having a rebellion. If too many of the people under him joined forces, they would be able to overthrow him. If he kept them separated and busy, the possibility of a potential mutiny was greatly decreased. Vash could be sitting in the same cafe as one of his own associates and not even know it, and that, to him, was an unsettling feeling. And lastly, there was Barnak. That bastard really didn't care for the way Vash handled him in his office. Nearly a month and a half had passed since their incident had transpired, and the wound on his hand had healed, but left a nasty scar on both sides of his hand from the puncture wound the demon had inflicted upon him. But, the emotional wound in Barnak's ego was still bleeding. Siberius had kept the two at arms length, preventing them from getting into another scuffle. Barnak loathed Vash for Siberius' apparent favoritism. He hated the way Vash got off With no punishment for assaulting him, and even more so for how quickly Vash was rising through Siberius' ranks. Day after day, Barnak was feeling more and more threatened by the demon. And it was only a matter of time before he would get a chance for revenge. "Well hello there Vash," Feppa, the highly attractive receptionist that manned the lobby of Siberius' main office building, greeted the crimson typhoon in her usual flirtatious tone as he entered the building. She was of Keliouxian descent, her long sky blue hair braided neatly to one side. Her piercing orange eyes looked the demon up and down. "You're back early today," she continued, twirling the end of her braid with her index finger. Vash had wanted to destroy that female sexually ever since he first laid eyes on her on his first day of the job, but figured it was wise not to mix his business with pleasure. Still, he enjoyed their casual flirtations as much as he possibly could. He walked up to the desk and leaned on it. "Things went actually pretty smooth for a change," he said with a smooth bravado. "What kind of a mood is he in today?" He asked, referring to Siberius. She let out a sigh and curled one corner of her luscious lips upwards. "Ugh, not the best. I heard him shouting on his phone earlier. You need to see him?" She asked, those orange puppy dog eyes melted his heart. He simply nodded as his smile disappeared from his face. It was business time. "I'll let him know you are on your way up." Vash tapped the desk with a flat palm, flashed her a parting smile and headed for the elevator. He pressed the button and, after a few seconds, a bell sounded and the lift doors slid apart. Vash stepped inside and nodded at the elevator operator. He didn't know the short statutes aliens name, but he always requested the same floor. The operator nodded a hello at Vash and pressed the button that would lead to Siberius' floor. The two stood in awkward silence as cheesy elevator music serenaded over the speaker. The lift shook slightly as it reached the top floor and the doors opened. "Have a good day, sir," the operator said and held his palm out for a tip. Vash wasn't one for giving handouts, but he was in Siberius' place of business, and it was wise to keep the peasants happy. He dropped a few coins into the operators outstretched palm and went on his way. He could hear Siberius' shouting through the glass door. This is just great... he thought as he knocked and awaited his permission for entry. "Well, come in then!" He heard the overlord shout, and then entered the office. Siberius' office was much more grand than Barnaks. He enjoyed showing off just how wealthy he was, and his office was no exception. Vash took his usual place in the leather chair opposite the Iconian and patiently waited for the shoutin to cease. "I don't care what the hell is going on on Juno!" The overlord screeched into the telephone. "My shipments arrive on time, every time! ... Well pay them off then! ... I don't care if you have to blow up the entire blockade! Make it happen! And don't call me back until the shipment has been delivered!" Siberius slammed the phone down on its receiver. "For fucks sake is it really that difficult to follow some simple instructions?!" Vash knew his question was rhetorical, and knew better than to offer an answer. He simply shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. Siberius let out a discouraged sigh and poured himself a glass of some kind of dark liquor. He put the glass to his lips and took a refreshing drink off of it. His eyes returned to Vash and seemed to calm down. "Well where are my manners? Care for a drink?" Vash nodded, and the sharply dressed Iconian began to pour the demon a glass of his own. "How'd things go with... What's his name, today?" Siberius asked as he finished pouring and slid the glass over to Vash's side of the desk. Vash picked the glass up. "Minho, sir," Vash reported as he took a sip off of the strong drink. He reached into his pocket and produced the stack of bills he had taken from Minho's safe and placed it on the desk. "You know me, business as usual. I get results." A smile grew on Siberius' face. It disgusted Vash to see the bastard happy, but he kept reminding himself, a means to an end. His time would come. "Of course you do," Siberius said as he took the stack of cash and tossed it into his open safe. The amount of money meant little to someone with his amount of wealth, it was the principle of the matter. "You've become quite the asset for me, Vash. Most impressive." Vash cleared his throat. "You have something you'd like to say?" Siberius inquired. "Rem, Siberius. You promised me Rem, remember?" Vash couldn't help but display his irritated tone. He was growing more and more impatient with each passing day. "In due time, my good friend, in due time," Siberius responded with a chuckle. "We're making money here. You're doing well. Are you not enjoying the penthouse I've put you up in? Relax. Enjoy yourself. I'll give you Rem soon enough." Every ounce of anger in Vash's body wanted to beat the information he wanted right out of the Iconian. But, he had to demonstrate control. Siberius was his only lead on Rem, and he couldn't risk losing it. He had to continue to play along. But, for how much longer? Defeated and disappointed, Vash left Siberius' office and headed back for his penthouse. Wc 1452//2242//3895 |
![]() WIKI // THEME SONG 2015 ROLE PLAY OF THE YEAR WINNER!! | |
![]() |
|
| Vash | May 13 2015, 03:59 PM Post #6 |
![]()
Gross...
|
Vash turned the corner onto the street where his building was located. His eyes gazed upward, he could barely make out his penthouse from street level. Siberius spared little expense in making his newest addition to his entourage feel more than welcome. Anything to get Vash to stick around, it would seem. "And what do we have 'ere," a familiar, bone chilling voice called out. Vash's eyes lowered and met with someone's just a few yards in front of him. . Barnak... the name popped into Vash's head immediately. Exactly who I didn't want to see today... Vash's eyes rolled almost uncontrollably as he let out a sigh, right before he forced the most fake looking smile onto his face. "Barnak! How are you..." Vash managed to growl through his clenched teeth. The changeling brute was leaning up against the brick wall of another building on the same street, seemingly standing between Vash and his temporary home. Barnak's face turned towards Vash's apartment for a brief moment, and then returned to meet Vash's gaze. "Nice little spot Siberius set you up with," Barnak commented with a jealous look on his face. "You know, I really don't get what he sees in you, Vash." Barnak rubbed at the scar on the top of his hand that was placed there, courtesy of the crimson typhoon himself. "You're arrogant, ungrateful... And I could do any job he's given you just as well as you have." Vash repositioned his stance as Barnak took a few steps closer to him. Something about Barnak made Vash uneasy. Perhaps it was the bad blood between them, Barnak harbored some ill feelings towards the demon ever since... The hand incident. "Awww Barney..." Vash smiled once more at the oncoming changeling. "And here I thought we were just starting to become besties!" Vash could visibly see the anger rising up in his opponents face. Obviously, Barnak despised the favoritism that Siberius had been displaying towards Vash. And the fact that Vash really didn't care for it must have been driving the changeling mad. There were hundreds of warriors under Siberius' employ that would have killed to be in the demons particular position. Hell, some probably already had. And Vash was only playing along until he got what he wanted, what Siberius had planned when their agreement had originally been forged. Barnak suddenly appeared right in front of Vash's face, mere inches away. Vash could feel his thick, hot breath on his forehead. "You make me sick, demon," Barnak hissed in a hushed voice, trying not to alert the passers by of the extreme amount of aggression that was taking place right beside them. "The way you walk around this space station, acting like you own the place... Why if Siberius didn't favor you so much I'd... I'd..." "You'd what... Barnak? You would do what?" Vash's smile was long gone, and he was staring Barnak directly in the eye. He had had enough of the changelings insolence. "You'd kill me yourself? Well? Prove it then!" Vash grabbed ahold of Barnaks wrists, and in the blink of an eye, they both disappeared. Wc 521//2763//4416 |
![]() WIKI // THEME SONG 2015 ROLE PLAY OF THE YEAR WINNER!! | |
![]() |
|
| Vash | May 13 2015, 07:03 PM Post #7 |
![]()
Gross...
|
It had just been a week and a half prior that a massive wear house had been discovered in tact on one of the nearby asteroids amidst the ruins. Siberius had orchestrated a dig team to excavate the remains of the facility, and had Vash oversee the raid. The procedure had just wrapped up the previous day, so Vash knew that no one would be around. And with the atmospheric generator still up and running, it would provide the perfect location for he and Barnak to duke out their differences. The two warriors materialized inside the mostly empty facility. Large cranes and demolition drones stood around like skeletons on display at a museum. The only sound was the hum of the atmosphere generator in the far corner of the room. "Get your damn hands off of me!" Barnaks voice echoed through the empty space, bouncing off of the bare walls and steel trusses that hung near the ceiling. He pushed Vash away in frustration. "Don't you dare try anything like that again!" "What!?" Vash responded as he stumbled to regain his footing. "I gave you the space and the privacy you need to take me out. This is what you wanted all along, isn't it?" Barnak began to laugh hysterically, like a crazed person. Vash stared at him blankly. Had he finally snapped? What was with this guy? "Are you... Alright Barney? Do you need medical attention?" Even though he had clearly pushed Barnak over the edge, he continued to poke sticks at the bear. "You just don't get it, do you?" Barnak replied in between laughs. "You brought me way out here? With no backup for yourself? You really underestimate me, don't you?" Vash shrugged his shoulders. He was so confident with his own abilities that it really never even crossed his mind that Barnak would pose a threat. The demon was used to fighting horrible monsters, warriors with immense power, Vash pegged Barnak as a desk jockey of sorts. A top executive with Siberius' business interests. "There's a reason why I'm Siberius' right hand man," Barnak barked as his figure began to protrude outwards. His fancy suit ripped to shreds by his ever bulging muscles, only to reveal a skin tight armor that expanded with his form. Saiyan technology, or at least what they had stolen. Barnak was a changeling after all, the transformation should have come as no surprise, but Vash was blinded by his own hubris, and didn't for one second sense the immense power that his adversary had been suppressing all this time. That had changed now. As Barnak continued to transform, his skull elongated and several spiky tendrils popped out of the sides of it, his voice began to drop a few octaves. "You've made a foolish mistake today, Vash," he bellowed as he grew several feet. He now towered over the smaller statured demon, standing nearly ten feet tall, skull included. "And now, you will pay for that mistake. I will slaughter you here, and no one will EVER find what little remains I will leave behind." Wc 514//3277 Total 4930 |
![]() WIKI // THEME SONG 2015 ROLE PLAY OF THE YEAR WINNER!! | |
![]() |
|
| Rem | May 14 2015, 02:25 AM Post #8 |
![]()
The Super Namek
|
After the various errands and stops he had to make for the day, Rem ended his day where he always did… At Siberius office. There was a strange atmosphere to the room when he entered. Ignoring it, Rem strode to Siberius desk and dropped a thick envelope full of credit chips and cash. He paused for a moment, then with a sneer turned and began to walk away. “Rem.” Siberius said. Almost, the Namekian paused. He caught himself, however, and hoped he had given nothing away as he continued walking. “There is a Demon on Suicide Station, searching for a Namekian named Rem.” Siberius said. “You’ve heard of him?” Rem stopped, turned. “… If I ask you if you know Lord Frost, would you think me racist?” Rem, who was posing as Sorreh, didn’t really fear being uncovered as Rem. Before they had landed on SS he’d had a bit of surgery done to slightly alter his features. Many namekians looked alike thanks to a shared gene pool, so with even slight changes he should have been fine. Siberius was fishing. “But yes, I know who Rem is. Seen the movie.” Siberius looked at Rem, then focused on the paperwork on his desk, apparently dismissing the green skin. With a shrug, Rem walked out. Once outside the club, Rem pulled a hood over his head- just in case he ran into someone, and started the trek back to his small, piece of shit apartment. Something caught his eye, however. Off to one side two figures were leaning close, speaking in low tones that Rem was pretty sure conveyed hatred. In the next instant, he recognized both of them. A moment after that they both disappeared from sight. That… was not good. Rem had one thing to check on before doing anything else, and did so. He placed two fingers to his head and teleported… Momentarily he was standing hidden behind a colunade within sight of the office Minho used. A workman was busy installing a new door. An oak colored door. Rem grimaced, let down. He had thought he’d seen something in the accountant… He must have been wrong. In the instant before he disappeared from sight, again, Rem caught sight of something… And took a few steps forward to get a better angle. Then, smiled. Sitting inside Minho’s office was a gallon of paint. Bright, Emerald green paint going by the color of the label. Smiling, the Namekian disappeared after all. Rem appeared back in his apartment, and began to change. He started with a handful of aspirin, not drinking all day was leaving him with some serious fucking headaches. He had to shove through mountains of old bottles and cans. Damn he needed to get a cleaning girl in here. Eventually, he found his armor and weapons. As used to the gear as he was, it took the Namekian a short time to have everything strapped and secured. Finally, he was ready. Honestly, he wasn’t sure now was the right time to start moving against Siberius, but with Vash here, danger was close. The demon could really fuck this situation up proper if he and Rem came face to face. Better to just jump on it now. Once he had Vash under control, Minho and Dentas could be brought it and the rest of the plan begun… Rem placed two fingers to his head one more time, and disappeared from Suicide Station. He wasn’t actually sure where he was going. He had focused on Vash and Barnaks energy signals, and went straight to them. He appeared behind Barnak, who was in the middle of transforming it seemed. Vash didn’t wear glass slippers it would seem. Shit was already beginning to spin out of control. Sighing, Rem summoned a blade to hand and strode silently forward. With the large form of the Icer blocking him, he knew Vash wouldn’t see him yet. The first thing the demon would see would be a beautiful crescent rainbow appearing from out Barnaks neck. Silence stretched for two heartbeats afterwards. Then, the head of the Icer toppled to the ground, a rising geyser of blood replacing the fading rainbow apparition left by Rem’s favored sword. “Vash…” Rem said simply, eyes meeting eyes over the miniature fountain of blood that lasted for a few moments. “You’ve killed Barnak and are now an enemy of Siberius. Leave Cauldron before his henchmen and hired mercs find you.” Rem turned then, walking away in the vain hope that it would be enough. Vash was too dangerous to have around. Rem had yet to find his people. He could not leave, and Vash would not, could not understand that… And yet, Rem couldn’t tell him because doing so would put them in serious danger if Siberius found out he knew… “You son of a bitch…” Was the low, dangerous tone from behind Rem. The Namekian sighed inwardly, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to get out of this easily. Would… would he have to kill Vash, to ensure that Jen and the others stayed safe? 849//2502//5779 |
|
[align=center]<center><DIV id="scroll3" style="width:490; height:100; overflow:auto; border: 2px solid; text-align: center; vertical-align: text-bottom; background-image:url('http://puu.sh/juatU/2b02a867a8.jpg'); font-weight:bold; color:darkblue"> <br><SELECT style="background-color: #83F52C; color: #000000; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: 14px; width: 200px; "><br /><OPTION>Rem</OPTION><br /><OPTION>"NO CHANCE!"</OPTION><br /></div><br /><OPTION>Power Level: 707,000</OPTION></div> </DIV></center>[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Ruins of Cauldron · Next Topic » |
| Theme: ADBZRPG5 | Track Topic · E-mail Topic |
8:58 PM Jul 10
|
Back to Alex's DBZ RPG | Back to Main Forum










8:58 PM Jul 10