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| A Pair of Briefs and A Zaunite; Personal Saga | Invite Only | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 30 2016, 06:43 PM (524 Views) | |
| Bulma | Aug 30 2016, 06:43 PM Post #1 |
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"Lena"
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”Extra, extra! Capsule Corp CEO takes another extended leave, while Director’s body still not found!” The press was in a bit of a tizzy. After the chaos of the world assembly, nothing seemed to sit right. Nothing was resolved. Prince Tarble remained unprosecuted, and the Saiyan Empire made no moves, attempting to give the world room to heal after two of its major cities were wiped off the map. West City sprung back into action soon enough. The city had been blown up enough times that certain insurance policies went into place after the lengthy rebuilding process after the war. The crater was filled in with dirt carried in from the ocean floor, and Dr. Briefs released a capsule that erupted into a whole new city. The citizens still had to deal with replacing their possessions, but at the least, they kept their homes. While the government scrambled for funds, Capsule Corp moved in to make matters better, but the reliability of Earth’s largest monopoly was being tested. In Tarble’s harsh decimation of the city, he had destroyed their main base of operations, destroying many projects and research as well as killing a large number of staff, including Bulma’s right hand, Director Natalie Barrowman. Her body had still not been recovered, causing a number of conspiracy theories to rise, but considering she had been at the heart of the explosion, not many were hopeful. The news that Capsule Corp’s proud son, Trunks Briefs, had also passed away as one of the many casualties of Central City could not be covered up. Newscasters had caught Bulma’s paled face as disaster relief carried covered parts of him away. Anyone who had known Calar personally, would likely believe it had been karma for all his misdeeds. It wasn’t wrong to say either. Whereas his future counterpart had dove head first to find his mother, Calar had gone picking fights. It had ended disastrously. The scientist and mother made no comments, and after a brief hospital stay had returned to work, only to file for an extended leave a month or so later. The people of Earth assumed it was to properly mourn her son, but in the coming months, reports of PTO disorder on Namek would come in, including word that Saiyans had interfered with the planet, and that Bulma Briefs sat in on a council meeting to discuss the planet’s future. After how her last assembly went, this took quite a few people by surprise, but considering she had been one of the most outspoken people in the room before it exploded, the idea of the CEO taking to a political position began to come to light. For so long now, Earth had depended on the Saiyans, and when they had tried to renegotiate that, they had been brutally attacked. The Saiyan Prince had claimed himself a god and destroyed a city on a whim. They needed more options, but what were they? Bulma Briefs working with the PTO was a sudden cause for heavy gossip. The Planet Trade Organization was not known for their kind ways of business, and they were almost always on opposing sides of the Saiyans, but if the organization could lead them out of such dark times… It was all gossip in the end, as Bulma had no plans of banking Earth’s safety on Frieza, no matter what good things Aneka said about him. When the scientist had returned, she had immediately gone to work again, and avoided interviews or political talks, though she had been invited to a number of things. And then, after a mere two weeks on the planet, she was gone again. This disappearance was much more troubling than the first. When Bulma had left to Namek, everything had been left in order. Her projects were all left at good stopping points where they no longer needed her and detailed notes were left for her underlings. She had left contact information, which she dutifully responded to almost every night. In fact, her departure was planned, and even delayed. This time, it was abrupt, and nothing was left sorted. When Dr. Briefs was questioned about it he made his typical vague responses, going into a speach about Bulma was a grown woman now and what adventures she sought outside of Capsule Corp were likely to be boundless. And yet, if any of Bulma’s friends thought to speak to him, he would show a more perturbed face, and admit he was the tiniest bit worried for her. She had not been herself in the last week, and it was likely that Trunks’ death had finally taken it’s toll. As oblvious as both her parent’s seemed, they were not complete idiots. Even they had noticed the change in her focus and mood over the last week. Her sudden disappearance had not surprised them at all. The person it affected the most however, was the man, or boy if you wanted, or android if you wanted to be like that, who had stepped in to fill her shoes. Boxer Briefs, Bulma’s adopted son, the android with Calar’s memories, body, but not his twisted soul, had been doing his best to work under his grandfather and then took up a good number of Bulma’s responsibilities while she was away the first time. He was gaining respect from the board of directors, as well as the top engineers. While his memories of Calar’s time in the Saiyan army were still fresh, when Bulma had changed his face after it had been mostly blown off, she had also given his processors an upgrade, giving him an advantage in intelligence over Calar. It made focusing on work much easier, and he found it a distraction from his past actions and trauma. He still found himself slipping into some of Calar’s bad habits, but being under the influence of the Briefs again had done him good. He still had Calar’s daddy issues, and a slight complex over his mother that made him more than a bit over protective. He remembered how Bulma had been the first time Calar died. She hadn’t told her parents, and kept everything bottled up, even after he appeared bearing the face of her dead son. Eventually, Calar had simply turned up again, beaten down and weaker than he could ever remember being. Boxer half thought Bulma was waiting for him to walk through those doors again, and after so many months, she had finally realized it was not going to happen. He was sure that the drastic change in her demeanor had come from that. It wasn’t like she had returned from Namek unmarred, something that shook his trust for Chishan even further, but she had been carrying her own weight. The last week it seemed like she had collapsed upon herself. And then, there was the GPS coordinator on the ship she had taken. He probably shouldn’t have used it, but he knew better than to let Bulma run off on her own. It was heading without a doubt for Vegeta-sei, and that would only bring trouble. Calar had been brutally beaten by King Vegeta after his revival, which Boxer had no memories of, so he still maintained a great respect for the man, but the planet was no place for humans. He could rush head first after her but the truth was, Vegeta-sei was no place for androids either, and his power level had taken a dramatic hit after the extensive damage he endured in the aquarium incident. He would need help. The first person who came to mind was Chishan, but he had barely shown his face to Capsule Corp since the return from Namek and Boxer had no idea what was going on in that guy’s head. He’d spent almost every waking moment with his mother before the assembly, but when times got rough where was he? The former Saiyan in him spit malice at a man gone soft, and misbehavior in an Overlord, but that wasn’t what he was mad about. He was mad Chishan wasn’t softer. He hardly liked him to start, but he respected his power, and his position as an Overlord might help matters...But he was pissed at him for whatever had happened on Namek. He had seen the trashed arm without it’s hand. He had heard his mother rise in the night from new nightmares. He had expected Chishan to look out for her more than anyone else, but he hadn’t, and in his opinion, it fueled his mother’s eventual breakdown. Like Calar, he was still rash in passing judgements. The next person who came to mind was immediately dismissed. He had not even spoken to Vegeta since he had returned to Capsule Corp and a part of him still wanted his remembered father dead. It was hard shaking off Calar’s feelings of inadequateness and betrayal. While his mother had spoken of him kindly in the past months, he still couldn’t believe such a man would show her any consideration. He had been the one to put her in danger when they first met, but he was also the one who protected her at the aquarium. Shaking off any of Calar’s feelings towards the man, he doubted Vegeta would be willing to help him anyway. Like the adopted Briefs he was, he would likely surmise that Bulma could do whatever she wished and handle herself in it. Not only that, but teaming up with the android who had almost killed him was probably not anywhere in the Prince’s interest. ”Oh, Walid’s back~” his grandmother spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. ”I should cook more tonight.” Walid. He hadn’t even thought about that guy, but the more he did, the more he thought him the perfect candidate. He had seen him train using the corporation's facilities. He was a man of strength, and he cared for Boxer’s mother in a reckless fashion that he probably wouldn’t mind diving head first into an adventure. He was sure he had probably given a bad impression the first and last time they had met, but it was nothing as irreparable as what he had done to Vegeta. ”See you, gran,” he lets out, quickly picking himself up to follow his scouter to the man’s position. Maybe Walid would brush off his concerns for Bulma as well, but it would not hurt to try. He did not realize someone else with equal concern for his mother might appear. His scouter was leading him outside. It was another busy day at Capsule Corp. 1,759 / 1,759 / 1,759 |
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| Walid | Aug 31 2016, 06:04 AM Post #2 |
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The Avatar of War
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On the edge of a mountaintop where only a burnt out campfire with a hammock fashioned out of branches, leaves, and other various plant life was the Avatar of War. He didn’t want to, in truth it hurt him being away, but he felt as if he wasn’t wanted around Capsule Corporation, not after his confession. Ever since it took place, he felt like it would just be for the best if he were to revert back to the way he was, living on his own in the wild. Of course that didn’t mean he didn’t make frequent visits to see how his sister, who he decided should remain there, the other Briefs Family, and more importantly check up on the one he had feelings for. They took care of him better than his own parents, it wouldn’t be like him to pretend as if they never done anything. As he rubbed his eyes, still tired from waking up, another thought entered his mind. Lately, something seemed to bother Bulma and when that happened he too was down. At first he passed it off as him and everything he said before they returned, but that all changed after a talk he had with her mother. Whatever troubled her was something much more than what the pink-haired warrior could have caused. It prevented her from wanting to celebrate her birthday even, which according to Mrs. Briefs was usually a big event. It had something to do with death, something he was sure happened with the destruction of West City. Thinking about that incident just made his body ache, remembering how he confronted Tarble over it. He felt bad for how he acted, attacking someone whom he called friend without so much as hearing his side. He’d be surprised if the Saiyan even decided to forgive him, but he snapped. All of his emotions raveled around his mind until they exploded and he acted pretty recklessly. Even if they were on good terms he hoped that he’d gotten his point across to the Warlord. When it came to someone Walid truly cared about, you’d have to think very carefully before pulling it off. He was kind even though he fought with bloodthirsty villain, if anything like that happened again, he’d kill them, even if they were allies. The Zaunite spent too many years alone to have something like that repeat. Once he stood up and threw his axe on his back, he nearly fell backwards. There were still wounds scattered across his body, some from Tarble, the other from something else. He touched the slash on his arm that looked as if a tiger had attacked him and suddenly a black hairy figure appeared, aiming to attack him again. Acting upon reflexes he swung his two handed axe around, but nothing was there. “Ugh I’m seeing it again,” he muttered as he slammed his hand onto his forehead again, “I guess I should go see how Capsule Corp is doing.” Before he left his eyes went over towards something that looked to be wrapped in a brown plastic wrapper. He thought about bringing it, but decided that it might be better if he just waited instead. With everything that was going on back in West City, it probably wasn’t the right time. He then flew off into the air and started to make his way towards CC. As he traveled he couldn’t help but wonder if Bulma was doing any better. If the Avatar of War had paid a little more attention to the news, he would probably have noticed that the blue-haired woman wasn’t even there. For all he knew, he’d meet her there and hopefully have a conversation other than avoidance. He was too foolish to give up on things such as that. It took little to no time for him to arrive and when he landed right in front of the building; his eyes went straight to the balcony. It was there that he remembered a time he shared with Bulma, one right before their mission to Namek. Thinking about it made him miss those times because it felt like he’d never get another one, not with the scientist upset. He wanted to be there, he really did, but it was as if she was keeping him away. It made him realize he just needed to try harder instead of giving up. Before getting caught down memory lane, Walid walked through the doors of the large Corporation. The staff, or the ones who were still around, would probably first notice the light wounds and scratches on his body along with the little sprinkles of soot on his face and arms. He’d probably be mistaken as those who did their part to help rebuild West City to how it was which he offered his services, but he didn’t receive any of those from cleaning up. His first destination was the front desk, he figured it’d be best if he let whoever was in charge, who at the time he assumed to be the blue-haired woman, know he was there. After that was done, he walked down the halls, heading towards the place his sister stayed. The Zaunite felt like it’d be better if he saw her before anyone. He made sure to keep in touch using their communicators, but it wasn’t the same to him. Face to face was more his preferred style. About a hundred or so steps later a message was sent to his scouter. His first thought was that it was from her. A frown appeared on his face after he saw that it wasn’t, it was from his sister. Apparently she was outside and was grumpy he didn’t say anything to her. Grumbling, he turned right back around and went back to the entrance. As soon as he was back outside he looked around for her. “…She said she was just here, where in the heck could she have gone,” he said, scratching his head, “I swear one day I’m going to bug her so that I can track her better.” He was still surprised that Walina wasn’t in her room to begin with. Ever since he rescued her, she always kept to herself. Could it be that she had a friend… or was it her old ways? Before he knew it, he suddenly had a feeling that someone was following him, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. Lately he was beginning to pick up on energy signatures and it scared him. He couldn’t tell if a beast was hunting him or if it was just a random individual who probably didn’t want to harm him. His eyes peered around as his ears picked up on someone’s movements, resulting in him turning to see what it was. “Oh it’s just you,” he said, his hand nearly touching the haft of his axe, “Nearly took off your head.” He meant what he said at the end as a joke, but it’d likely not be taken that way. It was one of the scientist’s sons, one that the Avatar of War felt like they’d gotten off on the wrong foot. Truthfully, two of her sons he felt like he’d met under bad circumstances. One, the one who was an android watched him like a hawk when they met, the other, they met in a training session where blood was shed. Despite both of those times he didn’t hate either one of them. “So uh,” he tried to move into small talk, feeling uncomfortable by the minute, “How’ve you been?” WC: 1,263 PS: 3,022 |
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| Goten | Sep 6 2016, 11:10 AM Post #3 |
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Tale-Spinner
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[dohtml]<div align="center"><div style="width:600px;font-family:georgia;font-size:13px;text-align:justify;color:white;padding:3px;">Being on Earth always brought conflicting feelings to the swell within Trunks. On one hand, it was his home; it was where he was born and where he spent his childhood with his mother and sister. On the other hand, this wasn’t his home – this was the battleground where a sadistic little boy with a complex stole away a part of him, permanently. There were times that Trunks could swear he could still feel something – a dull ache – where that missing limb once resided, even though it had been more than a year since it was shed from the rest of his body. It wasn’t completely uncommon; there were occurrences of phantom pains in numerous amputees. It was still a terrible feeling, though, and one that he didn’t wish he had to bear.<br><br> Emotions of deeply seated rage roared when he reflected on the selfishness of his counterpart. The Saiyan bloodlust that flowed within his veins called to him in those moments. It wanted him to take revenge for what was torn away. Visions of the little princeling being brought to misguided justice had danced in Trunks’ head more than once. That is where the two differed, however. While Calar would have acted upon those reveries, Trunks could push them down and away for a time they would better serve him. He didn’t do it alone, though. He had help. Looking upon the artificial limb that now replaced the one he lost – one created by this timeline’s version of his mother, Bulma – instilled a feeling that counteracted the hatred that brewed. Her caring and devotion to Trunks, despite being her son and not her son at the same time, went a long way in making him want to be better natured than he had been in the past.<br><br> He carried those same dedications, too; a familial love that transcended the very barriers of time. It was that very reason that he would do anything for her.<br><br> As Trunks looked upon the massive institution of the Capsule Corporation now, he chose to reflect on those healthy feelings rather than the ones that would drag him down. It was easier to do that upon seeing the grand spectacle before him resembling what he remembered of the bustling enterprise from his history. When he had last been here, the sky was filled with dark clouds and heavy rain; the building itself was dilapidated and rundown due to the war. It was a terrible sight that brought about a special kind of heartache. This wondrous display in front of him did nothing of the sort.<br><br> Before he could take another step toward his former home, he was surprised to see a familiar face exiting the building instead. It was Walid, the Zaunite from Namek who had done a good job of knocking him around.<br><br> Walid - he was a peculiar character. There were times where the things that came out of his mouth seemed to be too spontaneous to be natural – or something you would expect a child to say. He was exceptionally keen on battling, though, so it wasn’t unlikely that he had taken one too many blows to the head once upon a time. Trunks had also noticed that there was a rage within the pink-haired man, one not much different than a Saiyan’s, which Walid didn’t seem to acknowledge. How one could not know when they were succumbing to the lust of unbridled rage was beyond him. He could very well be a ticking time bomb waiting to blow but… at the end of the day, his mother trusted him and that was good enough for Trunks. For now.<br><br> Again, before he could make a move toward Walid, the Zaunite was intercepted by another young man who looked familiar – kind of. The way he moved, his mannerisms; they resonated with him but he had never seen his face before and when he tried to reach out and find a distinct energy within the boy, he found nothing. An android? Huh. The Capsule Corporation that he was familiar with didn’t deal in androids before but perhaps things were different in this timeline.<br><br> Rather than stand at a distance, he made his approach and came to stand at Walid’s side. His cool blue eyes initially focused on the Zaunite but switched to the unfamiliar boy soon after.<br><br> “Walid,” he said in acknowledgement and that was all. </div></div>[/dohtml] WC: 730 Trunks Count: 730 Thread Count: 3,752 |
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| Bulma | Sep 9 2016, 10:28 PM Post #4 |
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"Lena"
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Walid’s movements were erratic at best. Did the man not know his way around the compound after all this time? Just as Boxer was sure he was turning the right corner, the man moved in an entirely different direction. ”Oh for pete’s sake,” the boy muttered before pushing open another set of doors, this time leading him outside. He finally caught the Zaunite in his line of vision, and just as he suspected, the man seemed to be wandering aimlessly. He started after him, thinking to call out but he wasn’t sure what to say yet. As Calar, he never really put any thought into his words, but he’d learned since then...at least a little, and when it was this important. There was one woman no Trunks could ignore, and that was their mother. Bulma held a special place in their hearts because, whether she believed it or not, she had been a good mother. No one was as important as her, and if she was in danger then he needed to do things right. Walid turned around as he was about to speak, at least to call the man’s name. The Zaunite seemed slightly startled, or at least on guard when he turned, making the android feel a bit guilty he had snuck up on a fellow warrior. He’d blast someone for less himself. Not that he thought he couldn’t handle the avatar’s axe, but Walid seemed to calm easily enough, judging him with familiarity and offering the kind of joke that was funny mostly because it was true. It made Boxer’s brows rise and an uncertain smile creep on his face, as if questioning whether Walid could indeed take off his head if he tried. A challenge, but a smile to show the joke was not completely misunderstood. That was when he noticed it. His gaze immediately turned on the would be bystander, a feeling of disgust and rage building up in his gut. Isu. The last memory Boxer had of his future self was of a pitiable man he had crushed in battle and only spared because...actually he forgot why he spared him, choosing only to take his arm versus his life. It was as if someone who no longer existed in that form had stopped him...but that was enough of that. The timelines were confusing enough with this guy jumping around. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here, now. Bulma had not filled Boxer in on meeting Isu. She had not told him a third version of himself was pestering her now too. When she had started building the arm, he hadn’t even suspected, thinking it was just another prototype, but now he could see it where a gaping hole should be. Bite it down, Boxer. You are not Calar. Not anymore, but it didn’t change the muscle memory of this body that had felt that man’s weakness in its grasp. Isu started toward them, and Boxer felt the man’s gaze on him like a question, one he didn’t feel like answering. His arms crossed over his chest and his posture stiffened, so like Vegeta, trying to looked bored but defensive at the same time. His matching blue eyes stayed fixed on Isu and when he stopped and offered a greeting to Walid, acting familiar but uncomfortable, he knew his future self had tied himself to his mother and her friends. Was he still trying to save this world? Was it still in peril? He could never be sure with the way Isu acted. As a time traveler he seemed to think he had all the time in the world. Calar had known better though. He had known Isu was simply too weak to do anything on his own, and now he was here once more. He couldn’t contain himself, or rather Calar. ”You don’t belong here, I thought I made that clear,” he says, and almost immediately realized his mistake. The memories of Calar were too thick sometimes, just like his ego. He looked away, obviously flustered but looking more annoyed. What position should he take here? Which position would Bulma want him to take? She couldn’t tell him. She was too busy having a nervous breakdown half way across the galaxy. ”There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he says, turning his attention on Walid instead. ”In private,” he adds, with a small sneer before his face twisted up further as if he were fighting with himself. He lifted his palm over his face and shook his head. Calar had been split in two once, his good and bad sides like a coin, but Boxer was him before that. He was the Calar who was more confused, and still acted like there were two completely different versions of himself not because there was, but because that was easier. There was the Saiyan warrior, belittled and never good enough, who needed to be tough and violent or else he’d be nothing. Then there was Trunks, a child of a loving family, who knew fear and had once known how to face it. One was weak. Boxer had thought he’d figured out which one, but it appeared it was stronger than he realized, continuously slipping out like bad gas. ”It’s about my mother,” he says more quietly, quite hoping Isu ignored his erratic behavior and assumed his mother was someone he did not know, and none of his business. Surely, a man interested in saving this timeline was keeping up with the news and knew Bulma was gone though, and maybe Bulma had spoken about him. Maybe? If she hadn’t told him about Isu, she probably hadn’t told Isu about him. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? He realized that in the comforting atmosphere of his home he had forgotten the device Bulma had made to artificially create an aura around him and mask the fact he was synthetic. To Isu, he was probably another dangerous android. Boxer half thought that’d be better than him thinking he was Calar. The truth of the combination might be deadly. 1,022 / 2,781 / 4,774 |
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| Walid | Sep 11 2016, 05:23 AM Post #5 |
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The Avatar of War
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When the day started for him, he really didn’t know how his day would go. He figured that he’d visit his sister, check up on the blue-haired woman, and then go about his normal routine. Boxer was someone he didn’t expect to see, mostly because he felt like the android didn’t like him. It was probably a long shot, and would get turned down, but maybe he could see if the guy wanted to train with him. He could always use a training partner. Before he could even offer something like that, he felt the presence of another around them. He was beginning to hate his newfound ability already. It kept him on edge and constantly worried about predators. He also felt bad for the monsters, if there were any. Capsule Corporation was the worst place they could show up in front of him. His rage would not be contained. The Zaunite quickly learned that it was yet another son of Bulma’s. To be more precise, it was her son from the future, but he never quite understood what that meant exactly. As far as he was aware of the situation, he was the scientist’s son and that was good enough for him. He was a little disappointed that after all they’ve been through, that was the kind of greeting he got. “Oh it’s just you,” he muttered under his breath, releasing the grip once more from his weapon, “Well this is awkward....” One already was a surprise; two of them seemed too good to be a coincidence. The possibilities were endless, but he felt like there was a reason he ran into the both of them. Maybe they called each other to confront the Avatar of War and beat him up. Maybe there was an important issue and needed his help for something. Another, but probably impossible, was that maybe they just wanted to hang out with him. Everything that he’d just thought about went out the window, or deflated like a balloon the moment Boxer spoke. It was clear to Walid that there was heated tension in the air. What kind of internal struggle they had, he’d never be able to guess. It also wasn’t his place to step in between them that was their parents’ job. He was a little bit curious to see how things would play out. A fight could be nice to see. As much as the warrior part of him wanted to see that, he knew it’d only lead to trouble. He didn’t feel like he should, but he’d be referee if he needed to. He didn’t know what he could say to the blue-haired woman if something happened on his watch. “C’mon now,” he spoke with a grin, stepping in between them so that if any punches were thrown, they’d be at him, “He’s a Briefs too, no reason for words like that. If you’re going to fight do it right. Go inside a training room, can go nuts in there.” The Avatar of War if anything was a hypocrite. Had that been him and his sibling he’d fight out in the open. A path of destruction would follow. While that was something he’d do, he really didn’t want to clean up any mess. He was already tired of that. His grin then started to fade away as Boxer asked to speak to him. He was if anything a little confused. What could he possibly want from the pink-haired warrior? As the android’s face started to tense up, his furrowed his brows. It was definitely something serious and that’s what worried him more. Was it a mechanical thing or did he need the Zaunite’s help with beating someone up. He assumed the latter because that was mainly what he did. “I mean I can’t promise anythin--,” he said, but was quickly cut off as Boxer continued. Everything fell, the world around him paused and anything around him didn’t exist. Did it have something to do why the blue-haired woman was keeping to herself? Was she in danger or something? Before he could go on with his thoughts he suddenly remembered something that she told him. She said he needed to stop trying to take care of her all the time. If it wasn’t obvious then, it was clear that he was not going to do that. Part of him wanted to tell her son that he should look for someone else to help out. That side of him felt like he would only hurt her if he did help. Another part, however, spoke even louder and told him to ignore his voice of reason. He also didn’t want to jump the gun, for all he knew it could be something small. The display of torment that the boy showed told otherwise. “Whatever it is,” he responded, resisting his urge to flare up in a fit of rage, “Tell me, tell me now, and don’t leave out a single detail.” Walid was about ready to walk off to speak to Boxer in private when he stopped and realized that Isu was with them. It seemed like the two of them had bad blood with one another, but it was both their mothers. They should put their differences aside to help in any way that they could. It didn’t feel right to him to leave her other son out of the discussion. “I’ll talk about this with you but we should include him in as well,” the Avatar of War pointed behind him at the Future Warrior, “You care about your mother right? She’d want this and you know it.” WC: 937 TWC: 2,200 PS: 5,711 |
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| Bulma | Oct 4 2016, 09:09 PM Post #6 |
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"Lena"
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Boxer’s gaze flickered up at Walid’s words and grin, and it was very obvious he didn’t find the situation nearly as funny as the Zaunite. He continued despite it, and he watched as the man’s demeanor immediately shifted once more. He demanded to know every detail and Boxer felt a small wave of relief for someone to finally share in his concern. The pink haired man’s almost possessive protectiveness was not missed by the android however, and he made a careful note of it. The men in Bulma’s life tended to be a little shifty, Walid and Chishan included. For now though, he was happy someone shared a little in his concern, that was until Walid tried to drag his future self along for the ride. ”She wouldn’t,” he says immediately with another small sneer towards Isu, but his next words had nothing to do with the man. ”She wouldn’t want us concerning ourselves with her at all. She’d want us to let her take care of herself.” It was something all three of them knew quite well. They knew Bulma was an extremely competent woman, who had gained immense strength over the last two years. She could stand on her own, but none of them wanted her to have to, especially after all she had been through. Calar hadn’t known, but Boxer had been much closer to her since he’d come back. With no idea what to do with himself, he looked upon his mother, and instead of seeing the strength that used to push him forward, he saw pain. Did Isu know? Had his mother experienced the same hardship? Had Isu died on her? He frowned deeply then shook his head. ”The less people involved, the better,” he says, folding his arms back across his chest as he began to walk back to the compound, bluffing he wouldn’t tell Walid if he didn’t follow. Of course, Isu could follow as well. That would kind of suck, but he supposed if the weakling showed that much initiative, maybe he’d let him in on things. Maybe. He had once been ignorant to the future. He couldn’t imagine one where he’d be so useless, but now he had witnessed it first hand. With Calar’s memories he had fallen on Arlia. From an outsider’s perspective, he’d seen himself reject Bulma only to die again in a further show of weakness. He was ashamed of Calar in a way he knew Calar could never be ashamed of himself. Not anymore, not like this. When they entered, assuming Walid followed he uncrossed his arms and let out a small sigh. He was still unsure how to put the words together. How could he explain Bulma’s fragile state to someone who didn’t even know Calar? Who didn’t know Bulma before the war? Maybe everything she did now was in character...but it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. That wasn’t the woman he knew. He couldn’t believe how much Calar had missed. He couldn’t accept it. ”Calar, her actual son, died in the Central City incident,” he says solemnly. ”She didn’t seem to want to acknowledge it, and we thought her going to Namek, getting some distance and being surrounded by friends would help push her through it... but it didn’t. She came back worse off. I don’t know what happened out there, but she came back miserable, and then it was like it finally hit her. Something happened, and she just shut down. She stopped working, she stopped talking, she just...stopped.” He looked down, his palms up in front of him as if he were silently objecting to his own helplessness. He had strength, he had power, but he could do nothing with his two hands to save her. Was that it? Did she need saving? From what exactly? Herself? His fingers slowly clenched and then balled into fists. No, saving wasn’t the right word. He would use his hands to pull her up, somehow, and if he couldn’t by himself he would accept the help she couldn’t. Even if it came in the shape of the muscle head before him or the weak version of his future. ”And then she left,” he says, looking up to him slowly, resolute once more. ”Without a word, she just up and left.” 715 / 3,496 / 6,426 |
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| Walid | Oct 6 2016, 07:02 PM Post #7 |
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The Avatar of War
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Frozen, he was completely frozen as Boxer mentioned something that sounded like it would come straight from his mother. He could even hear those words humming through his head, saying how she was capable of handling herself. Still, he didn’t want that, he didn’t want her to have to do all of it alone. Wasn’t that the point of friends? But there was so much more to that and as foolish as it sounded, he was willing to at least try. Even though he didn’t know what the situation was, even if it was something small, he wanted to at least do… something. From the way her son made it out to be, it sounded serious and that was enough for him to be willing to even risk his life. He then looked at her other son, Isu, and wondered if there was a reason for how Boxer acted towards him. It could be that they were just acting like siblings, but he felt like it was more than just that. “Alright continue,” he said as he nodded and followed, desperately wanting to know more. His face metaphorically fell to the ground when he did continue. Her… son… died? Her actions finally made sense, he felt like he should beat himself up thinking that he knew, but he wasn’t even close. What kind of a man was he? He was trying to make Bulma’s days on Namek pleasant, but he didn’t once take the time to really talk. Truthfully, there wasn’t much the Avatar of War knew about that man. All that he remembered was stuff that he learned from that dinner he had with the blue-haired woman and her parents. He was not only her son, but he was also the Saiyan Prince’s son. That was no telling what kind of danger he found himself in with that kind of reputation. It also gave him a better picture on the risks she could have gotten herself involved with over it. Maybe she was hunting down the man who was responsible. What kind of a fiend were they and how much more powerful would they be compared to her? Wait… Central City incident? Intel was never Walid’s strong suite; he didn’t pay too much about news or anything of the sort. When he heard that Central City had been involved, and that it took the life of the woman he cared for’s son, only one person came to mind. It was Tarble, the one who was to blame for West City. Anger started to grow from within, and it really showed on his face. It looked as if he was trying to contain the beast within from clawing its way out. He thought he could trust his friend and then he finds out about this. It only made him feel worse about himself because he spared the Saiyan; he thought that there was no reason to. What if the blue-haired woman went after him to try and get revenge? He faced that person in battle and knew what dangers would await if she tried. There was no stopping him at that point; he just needed to know where. “So what you’re telling me is,” he finally responded is, and assumed from what Boxer said, “You don’t even know where she is?” There was the possible chance that they could bounce back and forth ideas, but really where would that get them. It would be like searching for a needle in a haystack unless the ship she went in had a homing device. It sickened him, but he did have one option he could probably use. He could contact that man to see if he had any leads. Before that, however, he was in no condition to help anyone. The rage he felt had to be… unleashed. His eyes then noticed that there was a training room right next to him. He thought that it was perfect to get his frustrations out in there. The pink-haired warrior just needed a reason to first. There were only a few people he’d admit his feelings to, but Boxer, nor Isu, was one of them. He didn’t want to just say, ‘hey let’s go in there and fight so that I can use you as a punching bag?’ Who would even agree to that except maybe the Lightning Lord? “If that’s the case,” he spoke out, slowly keeping his rage pitted down, “Then I think it’s clear what we do next. There’s no telling where she is, or what dangers would be waiting. We need to get stronger before doing that.” The Avatar of War then walked over to the door of the room and opened it. He was actually prepared to enter it alone because even he didn’t know if he could stop himself. There were already enough deaths. “I propose some training,” he said and then turned around with a grin on his face, “Unless you’re too scared. I’ll understand.” WC: 828 TWC: 3,028 PS: 7,254 |
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| Bulma | Oct 6 2016, 09:45 PM Post #8 |
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"Lena"
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Boxer’s brow furrowed at Walid’s show of anger. It was perhaps the only emotion acceptable to Saiyans, and encouraged, but for Walid it seemed too easily triggered. Control was also a necessary element. Who was he mad at exactly? Was he taking too much out on himself? No one could be blamed for Bulma’s closed heart except Bulma herself. Then, was he angry at Bulma, for not telling him anything at all? Was it for the cult, who set everything into motion? Somehow, Boxer doubted the Zaunite even knew that much about the incident to be thinking that clear headed. He looked about to blow a casket, and the android began to regret his decision just a little bit. What did he actually know about Walid? He was attempting to trust his mother’s judgment on people, but he was suddenly reminded of his father, or rather Calar’s. Bulma had loved Vegeta, for whatever reason, and he still wasn’t sure that judgment was sound. What if Walid was the same type of man? What if he didn’t care about her at all, and simply wanted something to go off on? No. Mixed into that rage was a pain bred from serious concern and love for Bulma. He had to believe that. Walid finally spoke, and Boxer let out a held breath. ”I have some ideas, but (despite what I said earlier) her GPS tracker was recently turned off. She was heading towards the northern galaxy, but that could mean Avalon, Pefu, Arlia…or Vegeta,” he explains, with a sense of foreboding as he said the last planet. He obviously had a dark history with the Saiyan home world. Calar’s time in the military had scarred them both. He wanted nothing to do with his Saiyan heritage anymore, and the thought of returning was enough to make him sick. Despite the way he listed things, it would be the first place to look, however. It was where Calar had supposed to have gone. It was where she was supposed to meet him. The question was, how long could an Earthling last on Vegeta without being killed or ran off the planet? And then Walid suggested training. Boxer was very obviously not too keen after witnessing the show of emotion prior, but he supposed the fact that Walid had calmed himself down to this point said something. He turned his gaze to the training room, and something rumbled inside him. As much as he wanted to rid himself of anything that tied him to the Saiyans, he could not deny the lust for battle. It had been too long. He had not fought with anyone seriously since Valencia, and while he had kept training, it wasn’t enough. Walid’s rage, his strength, the Saiyan in him wanted to test it. It wanted to triumph over it. ”As long as you don’t mind me using a sword,” he says simply to the attempt at a taunt. His hand reached out and pressed the button to open the training room, and then he entered with the air of someone who grew up around these things. He went straight to the control panel, and without even alerting the Zaunite, closed the door behind them both and immediately upped the gravity. This wasn’t just a brawl. This was to get stronger, so higher gravity was a must. He then set a few training modules to go off mid fight, to keep them on their toes past just each other. Who knew what kind of foes they might be fighting. One on one was a luxury most warriors did not obtain. He walked over to the weapon’s cabinet, and despite the increased gravity picked up one of the larger broadswords before offering access to it to the Zaunite. He spun the sword around in his hand before grasping it fully and doing a couple practice swings to test the balance. It wasn’t bad, but it was no Xodus. With Calar dead, he wondered vaguely what had happened to the weapon, but knew he would never feel comfortable taking it. He understood how he felt about the sword, and it would feel like prying something out of a dead man’s hands. Besides, it was probably lost to the rubble of Central City. Unlike West’s casual exploding, something much more complex had happened to the world’s capitol, and scientists were still studying the husks of people and the ore found underneath the city. It would be a long time before it was rebuilt. He let out a small sigh, then looked to Walid to start. He wanted to give him ample time to get ready, but with the blade in his hand he was already anxious to begin. 786 / #### / 8,040 |
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| Walid | Oct 7 2016, 09:53 PM Post #9 |
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The Avatar of War
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That was the place that sounded like it was the most obvious location for them to go. Because of that fact, he felt like it wasn’t. He felt like he knew Bulma enough to know that anything she did wouldn’t be easy for him. His best guess was that it was somewhere he’d least expect to find her… which was a place he couldn’t come up with. His mind wasn’t in the mood for thinking and coming up with ideas, there was only one thing he could do. Pound my fists at anything I can find… He did feel somewhat bad that he drug the blue-haired woman’s son into it. He was not oblivious to how some people saw him. He was a beast, one who wouldn’t willingly go up against him. It probably should bother him and get him to change that nature of his, but he didn’t want to. Even if it made people so scared that they wouldn’t want to hang around him, he’d keep acting like a savage. It was in his way the only way to put fear in those so that they won’t get on his bad side. When he was asked about whether or not it was okay to use a sword, he laughed a little bit. If Boxer knew what he was in for, he’d ask if he could use many more weapons. The pink-haired warrior did feel worries as he started to walk to the other side. He was Bulma’s son, so he should take him lightly by not going serious. That was sadly before he remembered what she told him back on Namek.
“Sure go for it,” he said as he started to stretch, “As long as you don’t mind me not holding back.” Isu had a little bit of some cockiness, as for Boxer, he didn’t know a thing about him. If he too was cocky like the blue-haired woman said, that had to be changed. There was only one fate being cocky would get you and he knew from experience. It would lead someone down a path where he could end up like Calar. He wasn’t one to stop someone from diving headfirst into danger, because he would, but he could at least show them what it’s like. An orange light started to seep out from every inch of the Avatar of War. Once it covered him completely, he started to struggle as his muscles started to grow in size. Soon before he knew it, his arms grew much larger than before, and then his torso, and finally the rest of him followed in line. His pupils quickly faded away into glowing bright orbs as he finished with powering up. Inside of his mind, Brontos watched with a beat of sweat falling from his face. The War Mode was meant for in times of War when it was really needed because of how it distorts the user’s mind. With the rage Walid felt it was hardly the time for something like that. Regardless, the Patron decided that he would at least put faith in his Avatar. “Let’s get started,” he growled and then leapt from his spot, not even taking the time to ask if his opponent was ready. Thankfully the room was created with special flooring otherwise it would have crumbled from the Zaunite’s might. Rushing towards Boxer was nothing more than a rampaging monster that wouldn’t stop at anything to defeat their prey. After he was hopefully within the young man’s range, he moved his beefed up arm towards the Briefs’s gut and then swung his arm upward, sending a powerful uppercut towards his face. Once he was done with that, the pink-haired warrior kicked off the ground and gripped his axe that dangled from his back. With all of the strength he could muster, he swung not once, but three times, almost as if he was aiming to cleave the man in two. The true power wouldn’t be his blade but rather the powerful shockwave that trailed from it. There would be hardly any room to escape from the Avatar of War’s wrath. He was quite curious to see if Boxer truly could use his sword. It wasn’t everyday he was brought into a fight with deadly weapons. If he was lucky maybe he would even get a trip down memory lane. WC: 727 TWC: 3,755 PS: 8,767 |
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| Bulma | Oct 8 2016, 06:37 PM Post #10 |
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"Lena"
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Boxer smirked at Walid’s reply. He really wouldn’t expect anything less, though as the Zaunite began to power up, he immediately questioned this decision. He hesitated, watching the man’s muscles bulk and strengthen. Paired with the man’s seemingly endless anger, it was definitely an intense sight to behold. Was that even all he had? You could never tell a warrior’s true grit until the battle wore on long enough to force it out of them. He looked down to his sword, and then let his aura pool out of him. It burst up in a white forcefield but did not do what he wanted it to. His power stretched out and grew to greater heights, he could feel it even if it could not be sensed, but as angry as he got, he could not go Super Saiyan. He was in Calar’s body. He should have been able to do it, and yet he couldn’t. It was likely for the same reason he didn’t have an ki signature. He was a bioandroid, but he was more machine than he liked to admit. The loss of his super form was heart breaking, and it stole from his confidence. He wanted to distance himself from being a Saiyan but when it came to fighting being a Saiyan was all he knew. He was used to being able to control his ki through his emotions but now it was a much simpler task of command and complete. When he was a Saiyan, he never knew what new peaks he could reach if he just pushed himself a little harder. Now everything felt as if it were right as his fingertips, and that all his potential lay in repairs and upgrades. How could he even dream of getting stronger like that? If he had been Saiyan still, the thought of it would definitely have pushed him to new heights. He was angry about it. He was angry about what had happened with Bulma. He was angry with Chishan and Walid. He was angry at her. But none of that could be paired with the anger he felt to what had happened to him. He had died, and he had come back an abomination. He wasn’t even Calar. He didn’t have his soul. He didn’t have a soul at all. His teeth grit, and he would not be intimidated. Walid was showing an impressive strength without even doing anything, but he had trained with Vegeta. He had seen strengths over powering the Zaunite’s, and he knew no battle’s result was set in stone. He would have to be tactical about his approach, use his advantages, but he could still come out on top. He adjusted his stance for optimal speed even if it was his strength he was most confident in. Both hands gripped his sword, and he held it out on the defensive, but as Walid lurched toward him, he immediately kicked off the ground with a force of ki behind him. The upper cut zinged past his nose, but Walid was quick to follow. He was gripping his axe this time and again, the android pulled the sword into a defensive position, pressing the flat side of the blade to his free hand and blocking the axe’s decisive strikes. The strength of it threatened to push him back but he used his ki to push against it, knowing it did not tire him to do so anymore. The sword vibrated and his hands shook against the force of sound, and he finally released his efforts, flying back from it and doing a careful flip in the air to regain his control. He didn’t hesitate, zooming forward. His sword struck out with all his speed and strength, carefully aimed to slide past his axe and cut into vital parts. It seemed like it came in one action, the slashes were so immediate, and then he threw himself back, and attempted to kick the Zaunite in the face. Flying had never been easier, and he spun like a trained acrobat, with more ki control than he’d ever had, and drove in another slice, aimed however callously right at the Zaun’s neck. There were some perks to being an android. He would have to use them, but damn if he didn’t miss being alive. 718 / 5,000 / 9,485 |
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| Walid | Oct 9 2016, 04:08 PM Post #11 |
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The Avatar of War
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He… was… baffled. It was very well likely that his opponent couldn’t tell just how strong or powerful he was from sight alone, but after he did against Isu, something changed. The man had become a Super Saiyan as if it was a defensive mechanism for Saiyans against a worthy foe. Could he tell that he wasn’t going all out yet or was Boxer just not capable of transcending to the ultimate power for his kind? The latter one sounded more likely when the pink-haired warrior thought more about it. He was an android, maybe that played a factor in that. He didn’t have Vegeta’s blood in his veins, as far as Walid knew of. It ultimately didn’t matter to him, a warrior was a warrior, it didn’t matter what they could become or couldn’t become. A warrior’s truth worth was through their combat skills. Already from the start of things, he wasn’t exactly impressed, but it was good to see that Boxer at least knew how to defend. It would have been a quick bout and that wasn’t what he wanted. From the sight of the man using his sword to defend against his fury swipes, he was relieved. It meant that his opponent could use a sword and that was his biggest worry. He thought that he was trying to be cocky and swing around something he couldn’t. It was then time for the Avatar of War to go on the defensive. The moment he watched the robotic man rush for him, his reflexes took in as he backpedaled away from the sword’s attack. They, however, didn’t react in time for the kick that sent him sliding backwards. It was as if a switch in his brain went off after it, but not because of the strength behind it. Even he couldn’t explain what he felt, but the raging beast in him started to roar out. Right as the next attack came, he did nothing but stand there. First he swung out his arm, aiming to collide with the blade. He would then swing it further out as if he was deflecting the strike while the steel dug into his skin. Small contents of blood fell onto the ground as he looked at Boxer. While he liked that the man didn’t add cocky words to his attacks, he at the same time didn’t like it. “Hey kid,” he said, his voice lowered for a bit and then increases, “Are you telling me that’s all you got?” Granted he did get hit and he didn’t share the same results with what he dished out, but he felt like there was something missing. Was it the lack of words or was it something else? It was confusing and he didn’t know how to explain it, but it felt like Boxer was lacking something, almost as if his head wasn’t in the game. Right away with nothing else spoken, the pink-haired warrior concreted on his energy. His arms bulged even more as he held his weapon and then what looked to be a small cloud appeared from above. Quickly a lighting bolt fell and combined with his axe. He didn’t want to use it, especially on someone who was made out of electronic parts, but he felt like he needed to. “Now for round 2,” he said and then dashed towards the man. A wild swing went out, but it didn’t matter if he missed. Trails of electrically danced off the tip of his blade and hopefully, would nick his opponent. Rather than ending it off there, he attacked over and over as if he was trying to chop trees like it was his job. His rage that he felt earlier wasn’t what fueled him anymore; it was his desire to show Boxer a monster that carried him. When he was finished with his swipes of anger, he backed off, morphing out of view and into a blur. He almost instantly appeared, but he was not on the ground. Instead he was high into the air with his axe held above. He then brought it down, his muscles increasing for a moment as he unleashed a mighty swing from above. Its power had enough strength behind it to crack the ground from impact alone, but it was good that they weren’t outside. WC: 721 TWC: 4,476 PS: 10,206 |
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| Bulma | Oct 9 2016, 04:37 PM Post #12 |
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"Lena"
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Boxer’s teeth gritted, as he put all his strength into his blade, fighting against the brute strength of Walid’s arm. He could have pulled back, went for an additional strike, but it was almost a fight of pride. He had dared block his blade so callously, like it did nothing at all to him. He saw the blood dripping down it, and knew that wasn’t true, but he would not be the first to concede if he could help it. ”You’re the one bleeding,” he instantly spits to the Zaun’s attempt at a taunt. He pushed even harder against the bulging arm, but by instinct alone, he jumped back as lightning struck down. His eyes widened, but his attention was back on Walid almost immediately, which was good because the man had already started a new dash. His axe sparked like an open wire, and his speed was definitely impressive, but his strike was wide and predictable. The android didn’t try and make a dramatic dodge or counter, and merely got out of the way in a concise movement. The next swings were more of the same. He was lashing out without thought to his actions. Every swing had too much movement. He could see how it was going to fall long before it did, and soon, he even recognized a pattern that often came with such wild onslaughts. It was the only way he could have dodged. He recognized that. If Walid had been thinking clearer, threw in a single feint or concise slice, he would have immediately lost all flow and have ended up taking a brunt of his attacks. He didn’t though. He was angry, and he let his rage fuel him, and for once, a Trunks kept a cool head. He swayed and moved back, crossing the large room at an exponential pace. They were almost at the wall when Walid finally backed off. He vanished as quickly as he stepped, and with the wall behind him, there was only one place for the Zaun to go. He dove forward, tucking into a roll as the Axe slammed down inches from him, the force of it hitting the ground knocking him back faster. He rolled onto his side, to get himself back into a crouching position but could not lunge forward and start his own assault. He had to catch his breath. ”Is that...Is that all you’ve got?” he manages, before his face twisted up into a grin. There was no point in crying over what he didn’t have. He could still fight. Even if Walid could not sense his power, even if he looked almost disappointed when they started, it did not mean he did not have it. He would get stronger than before, no matter what it took. He would become like the android who killed him, and never fall again. ”Let’s go.” He burst forward into a new charge that Walid was sure to meet, and “Eye of The Tiger” played somewhere in the distance. 503 / 5,503 / 10,709 |
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