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Home and Heritage; PRP (Bardock and Goku)
Topic Started: Jul 23 2015, 12:38 PM (187 Views)
Goten
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Tale-Spinner
The sun was as hot as it was radiant. The surrounding forest of ancient trees did little to protect the clearing of Goku's makeshift home from the waves of scorching heat beating down right on top of the two fighters honing their trade against one another.

Goku stared at his recently acquired comrade, who stood only a few grassy yards away, while fighting to catch his breath. He was practically glowing in the sun. It's luminous light reflected off the slippery perspiration accumulated across the muscular expanse of his bare chest, back, and shoulders. His chest and shoulders rose up with each deep inhalation of pure, mountain air and fell with each timed exhalation while the muscles in his arms and core remained in a constant flux of on again, off again strain.

He was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to collapse back onto the cool grass and just let his body be at rest but he couldn't. It was only when he was fighting that he felt like he knew what he was doing--like he wasn't totally lost among the idea of who he once was. Everything came so naturally when he was mixed up in combat; he didn't think, he only reacted. Even though his mind couldn't remember the thrill of the fight, his body could.

Grass and dirt alike were kicked up by booted feet as Goku stole the short distance between him and Bardock. His right shoulder had been squared up against his fellow Saiyan's body while his legs stretched to support the lateral skidding movement he shifted into; the motion carried forward by momentum and weight. In such close proximity, he lashed out with a closed fist aimed high toward the man's scar flawed face before his stance blossomed and he followed up with a secondary, spinning back punch. Keeping with the revolution of his quick stepping, he ended his trio of rapid fire attacks with a prompt side kick that looked as if it had the full power of his strength behind it.

They were Saiyans. They could take whatever was thrown at them.

In the middle of their crossed exchanges, Goku was quick to ask questions. He wanted to know more about the Saiyans and his home and he also wanted to know more about the man whom he had been spending considerable time with.

"What's it like on Planet Vegeta? I have dreams of a world with red dirt and mountains the color of rust. The place feels familiar but like everything else, I don't remember it!"

WC: 427
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Future Gohan
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The Harbinger
Black and gold glittered beneath the glare of the sun, and weighed heavy on Bardock's chest. His breaths came clumped together in short, shallow sounding gasps, each one more difficult than the one before it. Son Goku was strong, and Bardock was beginning to enjoy their spar. There was a certain kind of worship that he held for those moments where his body just didn't want to work anymore; he relished the feeling of numbness that came from effort and work, and held a reverence for the men that could push beyond that numbness to transcend their limits. Son Goku, the man that was most likely also Kakarot, was one of those men.

Bardock's head swayed to the left when Kakarot's first punch cut through the air like a scythe, determined to avoid the hit. The younger fighter's knuckles slid across his scar, but didn't make concrete contact, and so the Saiyan's eyes shifted back to his opponent's chest.

Kakarot didn't waste any time in striking again, pivoting in place and swinging hard for the fences with some kind of spinning back fist that Bardock vaguely recognized as a human specialty. He ducked beneath the blow and weaved backward... right into an incoming sidekick that he would've seen coming an hour ago. He grunted and skittered over the grass, crushing tiny armies of green beneath the force and the weight of his boots.

"Vegeta?"

Bardock hesitated to answer his son's question, already in the process of counterattacking. He threw his arms to the side and wisps of faint, blue energy flocked to his fingertips. They coalesced into thin spheres over his hands and when he cocked his wrists back, they exploded to produce a large shockwave of azure fire that cracked outward and threatened to consume everything within ten meters of the older Saiyan's torso.

Typically, he figured, that'd be a lot bigger.

The cackling onslaught of ki subsided with a whisper and fell back into Bardock, where it dispersed into a cloak of fire that shrouded his entire body in flames. He didn't have much energy left inside of him, but he wasn't going to waste it by leaving it unused.

"Big and hot, with a sky the color of dried blood," he began. Bardock's words practically fell out of his mouth and into the open air between them, and he hoped that Kakarot didn't notice his fatigue. "It's an uninhabitable desert, ruined by those that came before us and protected by all who'll come after. There was another people there, once, called the Tsufurijin, or the Tuffles."

Bardock planted one boot in the dirt and kicked forward, low and hard to try wrapping his arms around the other fighter's waist. Should the tackle attempt make contact, he'd jackknife in the air -- and then slam Son Goku into the dirt like a shark taking its prey to the bottom of the sea.

"What do you remember?"

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Goten
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Tale-Spinner
Goku was still caught up in the finishing flourish of his sidekick when Bardock's expansive burst of energy took him by surprise. The explosion of ki sent him hurdling back into the air, leaving behind a shower of discarded perspiration from his forced exit. His limbs sprawled and flailed in every which direction like he were nothing more than a thrown rag doll until he was finally able to right his careening course.

Desert, red--Huh, that sounds like the place I've been seeing in my dreams. Have.. have I been there before?

His body twisted in the fashion of corkscrew in order to angle his head up and his feet down in time to hit the soft ground and become overwhelmed by Bardock's linesman tackle. Goku was once again propelled into the air underneath the other Saiyan's manhandling control but the squirmy martial artist wasn't about to let himself be driven into the ground like a stake. Instead, he sharply stabbed his arms down between his waist and Bardock's wrapped up hold, calling out with a wild roar as he pried his body free from the elder warrior's grasp.

"I remember fragments. Small glimpses of memories or maybe something else."

Still in the mid air tumble with Bardock, Goku curled into a ball and forced his knees into his companion's midsection before uncoiling like a wound spring with a double legged kick. Immediately, he dropped back onto the ground and sprang forward as soon as his feet felt the tickle of luscious green grass beneath them, only to twist at the torso and begin chucking small orbs of ki at Bardock as he continued his descent.

Due to his fatigue, or perhaps because he wasn't paying attention, his feet got caught upon one another and he tripped forward. Goku faceplanted into the ground, which wasn't nearly as comfortable when you were face first in it, and tipped over fully to flop over flat upon his back. His entire body was heaving with his quick breathing.

Boy, am I beat! All this fighting is really making me hungry!

Almost as if on cue, he felt a familiar pang of hunger strike the core of his body, instantly followed by a heavy, audible groan from his distressed stomach. Goku couldn't help but a hand over his noisy stomach and laugh which was rather an odd thing during the course of a spar but honestly, who could expect anything less from him?

He raised his other hand in defeat. As rewarding as fighting was, eating held an even higher priority for the starving Saiyan.

"Is being hungry all the time a Saiyan thing? I swear, I could eat a King's feast for every meal!"

WC: 879
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Future Gohan
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The Harbinger
Bardock's arms were blasted apart by the younger fighter's incessant struggling. He tried to reengage his hold on Goku's waist, but a pair of firm boots slammed into his chest plate before he got the chance and sent him careening through the air in a lazy arc. The concussive force alone would've been enough to shatter bulletproof glass, but only left a heavy crack in the Saiyan's flexweave battle armor. Bardock noted this when he landed on his shoulders and rolled back onto his feet, still drenched in sweat and biological Novocaine.

"Fragments, huh?"

Already, a barrage of blasts were headed straight for him.

Bardock's eyes widened and he rolled to the left to avoid the first blast, which exploded and left a tiny pockmark in the otherwise green grass. Quickly propping himself up onto his knees, the Saiyan remembered, rather unfortunately, that there were about five more blasts still flying right at him. He crossed his arms over his chest and was blasted back onto his back by the force of five volleyball sized blasts.

This time, he didn't roll back onto his shoulders. Instead, he let himself rest on the grass, panting like a dog in the Summer and about twice as fatigued. He'd been wearing his weighted training gear for hours, and Kakarot (or Goku, he still wasn't all that certain) hadn't exactly been a slouch during their spar. The younger man, though a little bit weaker than Bardock in theory, made up for with enthusiasm what he lacked in raw power.

He struggled to sit up, practically throwing his arms onto his knees, and looked over to where the younger Saiyan was downed in the grass. He couldn't blame Goku for being exhausted.

"Yeah, it's a Saiyan thing," he answered, refusing to let his head drop over his chest. Instead, he held it back, letting it hang off of his shoulders and glare up at the sky. "It was explained to me once. Something about our bodies... our metabolism, makes us burn out fast without fuel."

Bardock gazed up at the sky for a few, long seconds. The insides of his stomach whirled around like an acidic meat tornado, desperate for some kind of food. He'd managed to stow away the hunger until Kakarot's comment'd brought it back to the forefront of his mind.

"Do you hunt for food around here? Or do you have some stowed away? I don't want to go chasing down a deer in twenty ton weights."

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Goten
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If this desire for massive quantities of food was a racial thing. How was Planet Vegeta able to sustain the eating habits of its inhabitants? Goku tried to imagine a planet full of people like him eating the same amount of food he ate on a daily basis.

Who prepared it all? Certainly the Saiyans in the Army didn't go out and scrounge up their own food in their off hours, when they are already suffering the effects of starvation. If that was the case, to feed an Army of Saiyans, it would probably take a secondary Army of chefs just to adequately supply the ranks of the first army.

Goku could see it now. An entire battalion of cooks firing up food and tossing it onto a mountain composed of all types of foods, growing and growing until it threatened to consume everything in sight.

Abruptly, that thought bubble burst.

Wait. Didn't Bardock say Vegeta was a big desert wasteland? That doesn't sound like a place that would be plentiful in vegetation or wildlife... It doesn't make sense.

He shrugged.

"Yeah, I've got some stuff saved! Let's go!"

WC: 1,068
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