Daydreams

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Daydreams

Post by Broly on 8/18/2012, 1:03 am

Broly's eyes locked onto the man before him, whose shaggy hair seemed to dance over a pair of sunglasses. The effect was unsettling; the effect was nonexistent. Broly stood a clear foot or so over his opponent, black eyes doing their damnedest to bore holes into the young fighter's soul. It was as if the sunglasses were the only thing stopping him from glaring solid daggers through his mental opponent, in this battle of the minds. He could feel the intensity radiating off of him as if it were comprised of his body heat.

It was like he produced it simply by being. As the Saiyan's fists clenched tightly at his hips, he took a step to the side, watching as Muten Roshi continued to gaze into his very soul. Something about his sunglasses made him look far more intimidating than he should have been, not that Broly was intimidated. It was, however, easily apparent that most mortal men would have rather been drawn and quartered than asked to face his stern and all seeing eyes. The effect was, fortunately, lost on the Legendary Warrior.

Still, even he had to admit that few warriors had the cocky swagger that was present in the Turtle Hermit. Something about him made him seem far more powerful than the rest of humanity; it wasn't that he had tutored some of the strongest warriors on Earth, it wasn't even that he was probably the closest thing to a second that Broly had. It was the aura he put off, which hung heavily in the air like some kind of putrid stench, drifting into Broly's own.

Whereas most would be unable to see it, Broly could identify it clearly. It was rising off of him in barely visible waves, swirling and shaking in the summer sun. As both warriors stared deeply into the other's souls, a pair of young men stood opposite Broly's own allies. He had, as always, brought with him Kale and Aubrey. Kale was the young Saiyan from the underworld, who he had begrudgingly let live. Aubrey was some hybrid with a penchant for the Dragonballs, something Broly happened to own in spades.

They stood, shoulder to shoulder and arms behind their backs across from two turtle hermit students. Both wore orange and gold garments, their primary orange gi and their weighted, yellow training clothes. Each pair was sizing the other up, wondering constantly whether or not this stare down would end up in a confrontation. They had never before met, and yet deep down they each knew that the odds were that one of them would end up missing before the end of the day. They could feel the violence and malevolence emanating from Broly.

Muten Roshi was a symbol of good; despite his lecherous tendencies, he always did the right thing. That was something he would and had done to his dying day, something he would not allow to be changed by the fact that Broly was powerful. Sure, Roshi was a fair amount less powerful than Broly, but he was most definitely not going to give into pressure simply because of that. It wasn't in his nature; he was not built that way. Broly had come to him after defeating his ally in the mountains, but that would not be the end of his investigation.

The Saiyan turned his eyes to the hermit's home as a maelstrom brewed somewhere in the skies above. It was as though storm clouds were permanently in his wake, following him and announcing his arrival to all creatures from all creeds. That was how Roshi had known he was coming; no, actually he had probably sensed his massive ki signature on the horizon. It wasn't as though Broly hid himself from view, or lowered his power level to rest.

If someone wanted his head, they would be able to come and claim it whenever they felt like it. Thus far, none had been successful in defeating him. The man, Rex; the warrior, Ivander. They had come as close as possible, truly. One had removed his arm, and the other had pounded him into a rather dangerous state. Had the demon, Lancaster jumped in against him... That would have been a close battle, undoubtedly. Regardless, it was his life that they had missed out on. They had failed to defeat him in the end, as would the rest of the fools who dared to try.

He examined the man's house with a scrutiny enviable by most nuns. It was pink; letters sprawled across it's side. 'Kame House'; was Kame supposed to mean Turtle? He couldn't tell. He'd seen a screen door in the front, and a small green door in the back, undoubtedly there for no real reason. It was not as though the hermit had to sneak out at any point. Regardless; the entire place seemed worthless. He wondered briefly, what would happen if he destroyed it?

His large hand touched against the outer wall, feeling the weak plaster material. So far, the hermit hadn't reacted. However, something told Broly that if he were to thrust a fist through the wall, he would raise some kind of spark from within the now 'young' man. He knew not how Roshi had reacquired his youth, but he knew it had to be some form of trickery. Perhaps meddling from the gods? That would not have been too shocking, considering that the Crane had been resurrected by 'dark forces'.

”Where is Kakarot hiding, old man?”, he turned to the Turtle Hermit, eyes ablaze with the type of ferocity that made grown men cry. It was, normally, enough to force cries of mercy on the spot. However, the black haired man simply stared back at him, mouth curved in some odd smile. He had never seen such an expression on anyone's face while they were looking at him; he had never seen such an expression while he was preparing to unleash hell.

”Kakarot? I don't know any Kakarot.”, Roshi's mouth closed immediately after speaking, once more contracting into that odd grin. What was it that the hermit was hiding from him? Why was he so secretive? What was giving him the confidence to defy Broly in such an obvious manner? As the Saiyan's expression changed into a glower, he turned to face the turtle. His fists were clenched tightly enough that they might shatter the firmest of stones.

What exactly did he think he was playing at?

”Yes; you do, old man.”

“Look, Broly. I've got a lotta students here, and none of them go by 'Kakarot'. Is that all you really wanted, to come here and call me old, asking for someone I've never met in my life?”, his words sounded insulting. They sounded patronizing and irritating; it was clear that he was sheltering Kakarot from his wrath. Energy flared up around him in emerald tendrils, waving and whipping at the air alongside him. He would not stand for this.

As the students next to Roshi dropped into a defensive posture, Broly's own allies merely stood there. They didn't need any type of special stance in order to do battle, they were always ready. Aubrey had been trained in self-defense from a young age, while Kale...Well, Kale was a full blooded Saiyan. He was always ready for combat, whether the enemy was or not. It wasn't like he was going to rush out and die.

He knew what he was doing. He'd always known what he was doing. Some people called it programming; he called it confidence and bravado. He didn't give two shits what the turtle hermit's guys were capable of. He would trash them regardless. It was his nature, his purpose, his metier. Some people were good pool players, others were great gamblers; he was a natural born killer, which was part of the reason he fit in with Broly.

Still, he didn't really know why the Saiyan was even letting him live. Even back in that dark cave, the reasoning had been murky. Everything had always seemed so touch and go, especially with this...This strange brute of a man. Broly was probably the most straightforward motherfucker he'd ever met in his god damned life. So why was it so hard to figure him out? It was puzzling; no, it was more than puzzling. It was downright infuriating!

That didn't mean however, that he was ever going to defy the guy. No, that was more or less suicide. Saiyans were supposed to love combat, they were born and bred for battle; but you were never supposed to go up against a guy who could rip you to shreds without a second thought about it. It was like sending a puppy up against a snow plow or something. The puppy was gonna get chewed up ten out of ten times. Sure, sometimes he'd come out looking a little less pavement-y, but he was gonna die regardless.

The same was true about throwing yourself against a brick wall like Broly. It was almost impossible to keep the odds out of your head as you plowed through the battle. You couldn't escape the feeling of impending fatality; you knew you were gonna die eventually. It was all just a matter of 'how long does he feel like fucking with me?', or 'will he get tired of this?'. Shit, the thought of a possible battle with Broly made him swallow the saliva building in his throat. He didn't know how Roshi did this.

As the thought crossed Kale's mind, Roshi leaned back against the palm tree behind him. He didn't seem to be very afraid. He didn't even seem to care that the strongest warrior on Earth was now investigating him as if it were his life's work. In fact, he seemed to be in damn fine condition, considering the fact that he was supposed to have died at the hands of Cell a few months ago. What had brought him back...? Or had he simply never died at all?

With what Broly had always told him of the Android, Cell was not as competent as he seemed. Regardless, it appeared that a battle was almost inevitable. Energy was building around him in thick tides, which continued to build all around. Somehow, the man seemed unperturbed. It was as if an entirely invisible, but equally powerful aura was building inside of him. Was that was he was concealing?

As the students next to Roshi watched, their own energies began to emerge. It was clear that they were preparing for a battle, and probably to subsequently die. They, surely, couldn't have expected to have very good chances against Broly. No one had good chances against Broly. Not even the second strongest guy; some changeling named Sairai.

Broly's left hand raised into the air, leveling at the house next to him. The energy from his aura was now beginning to compile itself in his palm, coiling around his fingertips as it rose. He was going to eradicate the house if the old man didn't reveal his secrets to him. As it so happened, Broly was not very good with deceit. He had been betrayed enough in his lifetime to know that he didn't handle it well, nor would he allow it to be a part of his existence much longer.

[b]”If you don't tell me where Kakarot is... I will destroy you, and everything you've ever come to love.”
, his voice was unsteady. It was filled with rage and thinly veiled anger; as if he were doing the best he could to not explode upon hearing the turtle hermit's voice. Who could really blame him? Roshi was doing everything that one should have avoided doing upon making contact with a warrior as volatile as Broly.

“Broly, I'm not afraid of you. Neither are they; I think you should know that. Just because you're stronger than me, doesn't mean you can take me.”

The old man, now turned young, continued to watch him. It was as though Broly were some kind of interesting television program; some soap opera to be digested and thoroughly enjoyed with a bag of snacks. Or in the case of the lover of eroticism before him, some strange yoga program. The warriors next to Roshi watched on, faces uneven as the Saiyan prepared to destroy the man's home. They could only imagine the kind of destruction that would be wrought.

Roshi's hand rose in retaliation to Broly's own continued display of power. It was a signal that he was not going to back down just because of Broly's strength. Sure, the guy was probably the most destructive warrior on the planet, but that didn't mean he would back down. He'd fought off warriors like the Demon King Piccolo, tussled with tough guys like Gohan. He was not the type to back down just because he was a little outmatched.

Kale stepped forward, stretching his limbs as Aubrey hung back. She was probably tough enough to handle these guys, but something about her posture suggested that she wasn't really interested in battling. She was ogling one of the turtle hermit's men; a young warrior with long black hair. A single scar rode the length of his cheek, illustrating his experience in battle. It was probable that he had been some kinda tough guy before signing on with Roshi.

”If you wanna throw down guys, you're gonna have to wait a second. Broly didn't really tell me what we were doing on the fly here.”. the young men before him stepped forward in front of Roshi at Kale's prodding. It was obvious that, if Kale were ready to go, so were they. It was clear that something was going to happen one way or the other. The grin emerging on Broly's face told all the tale required.

”How about a wager, Turtle hermit?”, Broly's energy slowly diffused as he considered a proposition. It was unusual for Broly to offer anyone anything; much less a chance for survival. What was it within him that was provoking such a reaction? What was it within him that was bringing out such an unusual side of the warrior who no one could seem to defeat? Surely, this couldn't have been of his own volition.

“What've you got in mind, buddy?”, the young Muten Roshi glanced over at Broly's friend, the Saiyan who was adorned in some form of foreign battle armor. He'd never seen anything like it before; certainly not on any Earth warrior. He'd heard tell that Broly was of some foreign species, an alien to the planet Earth. Was that the true source of his seemingly limitless power? It would certainly explain a lot of things. Not many warriors on Earth had a strength like that. He hadn't, until he was brought back from the dead.

Even then, his strength paled in comparison to the power which Broly wielded. It was completely unnatural, but that didn't mean it couldn't be overcome by some form of skill. Roshi had, in his years, acquired an almost unlimited amount of skills and techniques. He was the only one who had mastered his unique style of combat; the only one besides Son Goku who knew how to utilize his fighting style. Perhaps that was the 'Kakarot' of whom Broly sought?

Undoubtedly, Goku was his greatest student. He'd never had a success like him, and he probably wouldn't ever have another student with the same potential. He'd seen the man grow from a young kid who knew very little about anything other than brute strength into one of the most talented warriors on the planet, if not the most talented fighter in the world. There was no one he could think of, possibly barring the strange alien fighter Sairai and himself, who could take Goku in a fight. That said a lot, considering the number of powerful people who had begun to crop up lately.

”Your two pupils face off against my one; if they win, I leave peacefully. If Kale wins, then you tell me where Kakarot is.”

The energy dissolved in his hands as he watched Kale crack his neck. Clearly, his man was ready for it. The only question that was racing through his thoughts was, were the two young men who stood before him? The pair exchanged a quick glance, before looking toward their Sensei for advice. Roshi wasn't often one for conflict, but ever since he'd regained his youth, he'd been extra fiery. Though, why would he let them pummel this guy?

“Alright, that works. You're gonna have to tell me what he looks like, though; otherwise I've got no idea who you're talking about. Rio, Marco, go ahead and show this guy what I taught you, okay? I'm gonna make sure the big guy doesn't go anywhere.”

For a fraction of a second, they seemed to doubt his decision; however, they swiftly kicked off of the ground and into the air. Blue energy swirled around them in lazy arcs, coiling around their bodies like snakes made of nothing but power. Kale however, seemed unperturbed. His right hand rose to his scouter, pressing down on the little red button. Quickly, bright red characters swirled across his screen as crosshairs locked onto both warriors.

Kale's battle power was just over ninety thousand; and as the display lit up with his opponent's power levels, he couldn't help but feel disappointed. His opponents were hardly powerful enough to entertain him; their battle powers were hardly above fifty thousand. Grinning darkly, the young Saiyan kicked off of the sand toward his opponents, crimson light trailing in his wake. He was going to show Broly what he could do.

Energy surrounded his body as he dashed forward, face lit up with a daredevil's grin. He knew that he had nothing to be afraid of with these warriors; they weren't gonna kill him, and they most certainly weren't going to upstage him.

As he neared their guard, both sprang forward to meet him. Marco's fist was cocked back behind his head, and Rio's leg was swinging in from the side to meet him. Kale's eyes flew from side to side as time seemed to slow down, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He may've been much faster, but he still didn't want them to score a lucky shot. His left arm lowered to block the kick, sending sharp bouts of pain shooting through his arm.

The fist came in swiftly, but Kale was far quicker. His head ducked to the right, underneath the blow. At the same time, his own hand came in from the side, cinnamon colored energy amassing in it. He knew full well that the other guy wasn't going to be able to avoid the blast at such point blank range; that was actually part of his decision making process. He didn't care that it was possibly lethal or capable of producing second degree burns; he just wanted the win.

The blast made contact with a huge puff of smoke, obscuring each warrior's vision. At least, each warrior except Kale's; his scouter was easily capable of locking on to each fighter's ki signature. Bearing his pearly whites as he dashed wildly through the smoke toward Rio, his fists burst forward in a flurry of frenzied blows, each one striking toward his opponent's chest or face. Each strike was precisely placed, and each one found it's mark on his opponent.

Still grinning wildly as he pressed his offensive, Kale's fist suddenly filled with a malevolent amalgamation of his power, highly compacted and ready to explode. He thrust his fist into the turtle student's chest, forcing him out of the original cloud of smoke with a hot and quick explosion of fire and ki. Crimson energy rose off of the young man in smokey wisps as he was ejected from the cloud, his body spiraling backward through the air.

Filament-like strands were kicked out of the puff-like cloud, as Kale turned, his scouter directing him toward the next warrior in line. Back down on the beach, Broly was watching with little apparent interest. He was not yet impressed with the boy's progress. Yes, he was destroying those two so far, but the fight had only just begun. Broly wasn't quite sure whether or not he would be able to handle the both of them at once.

It wasn't a matter of their energies; no, Kale managed to peak a little below the both of them combined. It was a matter of raw skill. While the boy was showing incredible combat ingenuity, he was eventually going to have to face them in hand to hand combat. They were trained by Roshi, and likely brought up to emphasize teamwork and resilience in the face of adversity. It was likely that he hadn't chosen them for their superior firepower, but that he'd chosen them for the bond that existed inside of the pair.

His arms crossed as he watched the battle unfold, standing several feet away from the ever relaxed turtle hermit. As it stood, Kale was utilizing hit and run smoke techniques to keep an advantage on both warriors, something that while intelligent, was cowardly. Still, he was easily keeping pace by separating the two. It would be admirable, if it weren't a tactic for the weak. Roshi was probably eating it up, but the man's face betrayed nothing of his feelings.

On Roshi's end, it was true that he was impressed. However, he wasn't impressed by the combat taking place in the skies above. No, he was less focused on the struggle; he was more interested in the girl Broly had brought with him. While her upper body was well concealed by baggy training clothes, her shorts were short enough to reveal her creamy-white legs. Briefly thanking Kami for the invention of sunglasses, he turned his eyes back to the sky.

Rio and Marco were having a bit of a tough time with Kale, to say the least. He'd honed his skills in the field of battle as opposed to a convenient dojo somewhere in the wilderness. It was possible that they would lose to the warrior, but even if they did...Roshi had no idea who the 'Kakarot' Broly kept asking about was. He had repeatedly pressed the name earlier, but that didn't bring any memories to mind. It was as if the man had dropped off of the face of the planet, or he had never existed in the first place.

With the brokenness of Broly's mind, it truly would not have shocked him to find out that 'Kakarot' was just a figment of his imagination, a phantom apparition in the dark depths of his consciousness. Perhaps Kakarot was the thing, or person, fueling his rage. Perhaps he was the drive that pushed Broly's strength so very far, in the face of such a heavy level of adversity. It, again, would not have been surprising for Broly's mysterious crusader to be false.

“Broly, what will you do when you find 'Kakarot'? I mean, you gonna kill him, or what?”

The question was innocent enough, but the answer was for more malevolent. Broly would not only kill Kakarot; no. He would destroy him and everyone he had ever loved, everything he had ever professed any kind of admiration toward. He would ruin his life exactly as Kakarot had ruined Broly's; he would drown him in the tears created by his suffering, and then he would end his life in the same manner that one would snuff out a burning candle. The tale was easily evident in his eyes, by the dull and filament-like color now presented within his blank expression.

”What do you think, old man?”, his eyes suddenly closed, senses tuned in on the battle still raging in the skies above as flashes of light and sound filled the air. He was losing his mind to his thoughts, his daydreams clouding out over his rage, in the form of dark fantasy.


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Race: Saiyan
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