Post by Trunks on Jan 7, 2012 20:33:26 GMT -5
Character Information
Character Name: Trunks
Gender: Male
Race: Hybrid (Saiyan)
Alignment: Good
Starting Planet: Human
Personal Information
Main form of contact: AIM: pyrosensei123
Do you have another character with us? No.
How did you find us? Instant Transmission across the Internet
Other Information
RP Style: One-liner at most. No, srsly, just read the sample.
RP Sample: (My Yamcha RP from another site)
Character Name: Trunks
Gender: Male
Race: Hybrid (Saiyan)
Alignment: Good
Starting Planet: Human
Personal Information
Main form of contact: AIM: pyrosensei123
Do you have another character with us? No.
How did you find us? Instant Transmission across the Internet
Other Information
RP Style: One-liner at most. No, srsly, just read the sample.
RP Sample: (My Yamcha RP from another site)
Whirrrrrrrrr.
"Sir. Preparations are done."
The sour, almost cackling voices of the monstrosities that created the populace of the spacious chamber called out to their master. Their lord responded with a mere flick of his raised wrist, all the while seated in the depths and shadows of the massive throne, situated behind and above the elevated walkway upon which the captain of the bridge was now signaling orders to his lackeys. The crewmen hustled in their work, fingers sweeping across numerous buttons and fists punching down levers and flipping switches at crazed speeds.
They were beasts, all of them. Dark shapes, each unique in form but sharing a trait of emanating an apparent evil aura, they were adorned with various horns, spikes, scars, and tails, some resembling mythical animals, and some more humanoid than others. They lacked not in intelligence, but independence was not a characteristic that they would ever develop. They were designed perfectly as such, to be obedient, loyal servants to their creator, vicious hunters and a wonderful batch of crewmen.
The procedure complete at last, the bridge began to shift, its steel shutters creaking down their frames along the forward and side viewports of the vessel, blocking out the dark emptiness of space beyond. The artificial lights in the chamber grew slightly brighter, while a faint hum initiated somewhere distant in the room. Growing steadily but quickly louder, it soon filled the air with its rhythmic buzz, drowning out the sounds of moving machines and mechanisms. At length part of the floor itself opened up, releasing an elevating white table, upon which was strapped a humanoid figure, silently struggling in desperation.
Bound and gagged, the female human was set upright as the table leaned itself forward, allowing her panicked gaze to meet that of the man on the throne. Pyro returned the look with amusement and some degree of curiosity; it had been so long since he had laid eyes on a woman. Definitely older than he, with long, flowing hair and a decently shaped body; the latter immediately told him that she was of some athletic background of sorts. She didn't look that bad, either, even though something about her air disgusted him ever so oddly.
"Project Beta shall commence in five. Five... Four..."
"Wait," Pyro called as he rose from his seat. "Give me a moment." Striding down the walkway, he revealed his true form from hiding in the shadows, no longer a mere silhouette. Short in stature and emanating the looks of a mere child, he held the defining appearance of one originating from Space Asia, yet with heavily bleached, blonde hair. The latter was as greasy as the universe would allow, gelled and waxed and laden with layers of hair mousse to send it curving back in unity. Garbed in his usual attire of pitch black clothing, the teenage lord made his way down toward the woman still strapped upon the table.
He reached in to remove the gagging cloth from the female's open mouth. Then, leaning in close to the woman's face so that none other could hear them, Pyro whispered into her ear:
"What is your name?"
"T...Timothy.¡±
"Ah, yes. And do you know why I've chosen you for this experiment that will change the world? Of course not."
"Because you're a despicable abomination!" She instantly spat on Pyro's cheek, sending him step back in shock at her stupid boldness. His expression of shock turned into one of fury and rage, and immediately the piece of wet cloth in his hand burst into flames before he threw the handful of hot ashes on Timothy's head. "DESTROY HER. Let Project Beta commence in 3... 2... 1."
Meanwhile, in West City...
Speed. It was such a joy to be dashing through the streets on a hovercar, wind blasting into his long, dark, and flowing hair. Even the sweat from the blazing summer heat seemed to be too afraid to form on his forehead, either that or it too had been swept away by the air as the dull blue Silverstar 4 cut through the almost empty road at high speeds. Already Yamcha had closely avoided ramming his car into a stray shopping cart and going over the curb at the last turn, but nothing too risky.
How long had it been since he had last enjoyed the luxury of boosting along open roads? Several years by the looks, since before the introduction of the Dragon Balls into his then totally changed life. Life on the desert was hard at most, but it had its sweets. The comfort of city life did seem to bring one down quite a bit in his adventurous spirit, and Yamcha had almost forgotten about this joyous sensation in the busy to catch up with the constantly moving culture of the big city. It really was such a rare situation, though, to see the local road empty as such.
Taking a sharp turn, the hovercar significantly lost most of its speed as Yamcha looked for somewhere to pull up in the public parking lot in the apartment complex. He was getting used to such crammed aspects of community, he thought as the convertible hovercar parked itself along the edges of the rectangular parking area. Leaping out of the vehicle through the nonexistent roof, he took one last look at the sexy piece of junk that was his valued friend and headed into his apartment building, under the indigo evening sky.
The door to his second-floor room clicked open as he punched in the four-numbered key. "Puar! I'm home..." Oh. Right. There was one thing that he could never really get used to, and that was the departure of Yamcha's closest friend. She had even known more about him than Bulma ever had. Not that Bulma stuck with him for long anyway. He frankly missed the life at Capsule Corp., with all of the technological luxuries and a hotel-level chamber all to himself, with a full bathtub and grand-scale HD television. What he had now was an old-fashioned radio and a small shower booth.
And where was Puar? With that damned fool away somewhere; Yamcha couldn't even remember anything about it with it being too sudden and shocking, as well as being such a burden of being nearly overlapped with his economical downfall with his being kicked out of the Brief's home. "What was the guy's name again? Taco? Taku?"
Falling down on the small couch too short to stretch his long legs on, Yamcha squeezed himself in and tried to sleep in the comfort of his brown work jacket. Yes, it was his bed. But something in the night air felt wrong that evening. The lights were always on when Yamcha went to sleep, and he could see nothing out of place in the room. Brushing the sense aside and hoping that it was derived from his tiring day at the factory, Yamcha pulled his long bangs over his eyes and resumed his attempt to nod himself to sleep.
"Oh, Yamcha. Still so naive?"
"Who was that?!" Bursting from the couch with instant response, Yamcha flung his two stiff before him, fingers curled and ready to execute his lethal move, while carefully scanning the chamber. Nothing, again. Was he... hallucinating? No, he wasn't even THAT exhausted. Lifting a few loads in the assembly line wasn't a task that would make a strong man like him high. And as far as he knew, he wasn't involved in any drugs for the entirety of his life. "Who are you? WHERE are you?"
"Oh, Yamcha."
Yamcha reacted to the sudden voice by wheeling around on his heels and letting a series of ferocious claws and punches make contact with the figure that had been standing behind him. But to his surprise, as the flurry of physical attacks ended, he found the young and short teen who had called his name simply stand there, on his couch, unharmed and unflinching. "So weak, as always. Are you almost dead yet from exhaustion?"
"Who are you?! Answer me, or face the power of my Wolf Hurricane!"
"Wolf Hurricane? Such a childish name. Come at me, bro, and let's see this power."
"Alright... You asked for it! WOLF HURRICANE!"
With the ferocious war cry, Yamcha instantly gathered Ki into his fists and fingertips before swiping at his child-like opponent, ramming his fists against the hard surface of his opponent's face and torso. The move was completed with a hard two-handed punch into the intruder's guts. But still the kid did not move.
"You done?"
"My God... Who are you? And how did you get into my house?"
"1-2-3-4 is not a good password. And apologies for ignoring that question before. My name is Pyro, creator of life." Pointing to himself, the child leapt from the couch, landing somewhere behind Yamcha without a sound. "I am here to create my masterpiece and the savior of the world, and you are to take part in it. Of course, you have no choice or will in this; you can't stop me from dragging your unconscious body along with me. You could, however, come without me having to go through all that trouble."
"Uh... what?" Yamcha was now puzzled beyond his limited mental boundaries.
"The files were true; you really are quite stupid." Pyro cocked his fist back a slight inch, and the next second Yamcha saw nothing but blackness.
----
"Wake up."
Yamcha blinked and stared at the white ceiling above. He noticed Pyro, almost immediately, out of the corner of his eye, but it took him quite a considerable while to come back fully to his senses and finally decide to turn around and grab the intruder. But he was no longer in his house, he soon realized. In fact, he couldn't even move at all from what was not his couch, but rather a long, flat, and white table, upon which he was strapped onto with unbreakable leather. Even his mouth was gagged with something that he was heavily drooling on, and his nice work jacket had been taken from him, leaving him in the Capsule Corp. factory uniform.
"Welcome, Project Gamma. This is your new home. In five minutes we shall commence the procedures to turn you into the greatest being of all time."
'Project... Gamma? What's that?' Yamcha thought to himself, trying to mutter out the words through the gag but producing only faint noises of saliva gurgling in his throat.
"You know, Yamcha. Why did I choose you for such a great task? Hmm? Tell me that. Oh right, you can't. You see, the last two people I chose took too much time to persuade into joining my cause. Oh yes, their degrees of intelligence, although nowhere compared to my own, were far beyond what you could ever imagine. Sure, they fell for it in the end, but it took a considerable while of planning. You, on the other hand... pfft. But more importantly..."
At this, Pyro slowly grimaced at the thought of what he was about to say. "Alpha was too strong. Turns out Saiyans have more than a little potential in them to do the... impossible. Yes, I failed. Then came Beta, a human female. She turned out to be little more than burnt garbage, so I tossed her out through the air vents, hoping she would continue her life elsewhere if she did happen to be able to breathe in vacuum. And last of all, here we are, with you, Project Gamma. Not too strong, mediocre. And definitely dumb as all HFIL."
Looking into Yamcha's completely confused and misunderstanding eyes, Pyro let out a long, heavy sigh before concluding: "I won't explain anything further this time around. Let's just hope you don't die in the process. I heard that you like to do that a lot."
"Project Gamma shall commence in five... four... three... two... one."
Yamcha's table leaned forward as he was shifted to face a wall loaded with bizarre equipment, technology never before seen even in the depths of Capsule Corp.'s laboratories... if Yamcha even knew. Beginning to panic out of confusion and the obviousness of what was going to happen next, the wolf-like warrior began to frantically claw away at the leather straps binding him, to no avail as all he could do was wiggle his fingers. Even the collection of Ki was difficult in such an unconcentrated situation, and of course, screw his life for never learning any energy-based techniques from Roshi.
"MMMMMMMMMMNMMNMNNN!!" He cried before the first laser penetrated his body with forceful and piercing impact.
Searing through Yamcha's chest, the bright crimson beam did not kill him immediately. Instead, he traversed the length of his torso, moving back and forth, this way and that, as if scanning him. Then joined in a second laser, this one blue, that took over other portions of his body. Yamcha was now writhing in pain, tears flooding from his eyes as he continued to scream in agony through the muffling gag, fluids freely running down from his nostrils. A third laser soon joined the fray, this time emerald green, and Yamcha was no longer visible in the bright display of lights.
But above all the whiting pain, he could hear that demonic voice of the child, screaming into his ear:
"Soon. Soon you will become the savior of the universe, Yamcha. And then you... will thank me."
"Sir. Preparations are done."
The sour, almost cackling voices of the monstrosities that created the populace of the spacious chamber called out to their master. Their lord responded with a mere flick of his raised wrist, all the while seated in the depths and shadows of the massive throne, situated behind and above the elevated walkway upon which the captain of the bridge was now signaling orders to his lackeys. The crewmen hustled in their work, fingers sweeping across numerous buttons and fists punching down levers and flipping switches at crazed speeds.
They were beasts, all of them. Dark shapes, each unique in form but sharing a trait of emanating an apparent evil aura, they were adorned with various horns, spikes, scars, and tails, some resembling mythical animals, and some more humanoid than others. They lacked not in intelligence, but independence was not a characteristic that they would ever develop. They were designed perfectly as such, to be obedient, loyal servants to their creator, vicious hunters and a wonderful batch of crewmen.
The procedure complete at last, the bridge began to shift, its steel shutters creaking down their frames along the forward and side viewports of the vessel, blocking out the dark emptiness of space beyond. The artificial lights in the chamber grew slightly brighter, while a faint hum initiated somewhere distant in the room. Growing steadily but quickly louder, it soon filled the air with its rhythmic buzz, drowning out the sounds of moving machines and mechanisms. At length part of the floor itself opened up, releasing an elevating white table, upon which was strapped a humanoid figure, silently struggling in desperation.
Bound and gagged, the female human was set upright as the table leaned itself forward, allowing her panicked gaze to meet that of the man on the throne. Pyro returned the look with amusement and some degree of curiosity; it had been so long since he had laid eyes on a woman. Definitely older than he, with long, flowing hair and a decently shaped body; the latter immediately told him that she was of some athletic background of sorts. She didn't look that bad, either, even though something about her air disgusted him ever so oddly.
"Project Beta shall commence in five. Five... Four..."
"Wait," Pyro called as he rose from his seat. "Give me a moment." Striding down the walkway, he revealed his true form from hiding in the shadows, no longer a mere silhouette. Short in stature and emanating the looks of a mere child, he held the defining appearance of one originating from Space Asia, yet with heavily bleached, blonde hair. The latter was as greasy as the universe would allow, gelled and waxed and laden with layers of hair mousse to send it curving back in unity. Garbed in his usual attire of pitch black clothing, the teenage lord made his way down toward the woman still strapped upon the table.
He reached in to remove the gagging cloth from the female's open mouth. Then, leaning in close to the woman's face so that none other could hear them, Pyro whispered into her ear:
"What is your name?"
"T...Timothy.¡±
"Ah, yes. And do you know why I've chosen you for this experiment that will change the world? Of course not."
"Because you're a despicable abomination!" She instantly spat on Pyro's cheek, sending him step back in shock at her stupid boldness. His expression of shock turned into one of fury and rage, and immediately the piece of wet cloth in his hand burst into flames before he threw the handful of hot ashes on Timothy's head. "DESTROY HER. Let Project Beta commence in 3... 2... 1."
Meanwhile, in West City...
Speed. It was such a joy to be dashing through the streets on a hovercar, wind blasting into his long, dark, and flowing hair. Even the sweat from the blazing summer heat seemed to be too afraid to form on his forehead, either that or it too had been swept away by the air as the dull blue Silverstar 4 cut through the almost empty road at high speeds. Already Yamcha had closely avoided ramming his car into a stray shopping cart and going over the curb at the last turn, but nothing too risky.
How long had it been since he had last enjoyed the luxury of boosting along open roads? Several years by the looks, since before the introduction of the Dragon Balls into his then totally changed life. Life on the desert was hard at most, but it had its sweets. The comfort of city life did seem to bring one down quite a bit in his adventurous spirit, and Yamcha had almost forgotten about this joyous sensation in the busy to catch up with the constantly moving culture of the big city. It really was such a rare situation, though, to see the local road empty as such.
Taking a sharp turn, the hovercar significantly lost most of its speed as Yamcha looked for somewhere to pull up in the public parking lot in the apartment complex. He was getting used to such crammed aspects of community, he thought as the convertible hovercar parked itself along the edges of the rectangular parking area. Leaping out of the vehicle through the nonexistent roof, he took one last look at the sexy piece of junk that was his valued friend and headed into his apartment building, under the indigo evening sky.
The door to his second-floor room clicked open as he punched in the four-numbered key. "Puar! I'm home..." Oh. Right. There was one thing that he could never really get used to, and that was the departure of Yamcha's closest friend. She had even known more about him than Bulma ever had. Not that Bulma stuck with him for long anyway. He frankly missed the life at Capsule Corp., with all of the technological luxuries and a hotel-level chamber all to himself, with a full bathtub and grand-scale HD television. What he had now was an old-fashioned radio and a small shower booth.
And where was Puar? With that damned fool away somewhere; Yamcha couldn't even remember anything about it with it being too sudden and shocking, as well as being such a burden of being nearly overlapped with his economical downfall with his being kicked out of the Brief's home. "What was the guy's name again? Taco? Taku?"
Falling down on the small couch too short to stretch his long legs on, Yamcha squeezed himself in and tried to sleep in the comfort of his brown work jacket. Yes, it was his bed. But something in the night air felt wrong that evening. The lights were always on when Yamcha went to sleep, and he could see nothing out of place in the room. Brushing the sense aside and hoping that it was derived from his tiring day at the factory, Yamcha pulled his long bangs over his eyes and resumed his attempt to nod himself to sleep.
"Oh, Yamcha. Still so naive?"
"Who was that?!" Bursting from the couch with instant response, Yamcha flung his two stiff before him, fingers curled and ready to execute his lethal move, while carefully scanning the chamber. Nothing, again. Was he... hallucinating? No, he wasn't even THAT exhausted. Lifting a few loads in the assembly line wasn't a task that would make a strong man like him high. And as far as he knew, he wasn't involved in any drugs for the entirety of his life. "Who are you? WHERE are you?"
"Oh, Yamcha."
Yamcha reacted to the sudden voice by wheeling around on his heels and letting a series of ferocious claws and punches make contact with the figure that had been standing behind him. But to his surprise, as the flurry of physical attacks ended, he found the young and short teen who had called his name simply stand there, on his couch, unharmed and unflinching. "So weak, as always. Are you almost dead yet from exhaustion?"
"Who are you?! Answer me, or face the power of my Wolf Hurricane!"
"Wolf Hurricane? Such a childish name. Come at me, bro, and let's see this power."
"Alright... You asked for it! WOLF HURRICANE!"
With the ferocious war cry, Yamcha instantly gathered Ki into his fists and fingertips before swiping at his child-like opponent, ramming his fists against the hard surface of his opponent's face and torso. The move was completed with a hard two-handed punch into the intruder's guts. But still the kid did not move.
"You done?"
"My God... Who are you? And how did you get into my house?"
"1-2-3-4 is not a good password. And apologies for ignoring that question before. My name is Pyro, creator of life." Pointing to himself, the child leapt from the couch, landing somewhere behind Yamcha without a sound. "I am here to create my masterpiece and the savior of the world, and you are to take part in it. Of course, you have no choice or will in this; you can't stop me from dragging your unconscious body along with me. You could, however, come without me having to go through all that trouble."
"Uh... what?" Yamcha was now puzzled beyond his limited mental boundaries.
"The files were true; you really are quite stupid." Pyro cocked his fist back a slight inch, and the next second Yamcha saw nothing but blackness.
----
"Wake up."
Yamcha blinked and stared at the white ceiling above. He noticed Pyro, almost immediately, out of the corner of his eye, but it took him quite a considerable while to come back fully to his senses and finally decide to turn around and grab the intruder. But he was no longer in his house, he soon realized. In fact, he couldn't even move at all from what was not his couch, but rather a long, flat, and white table, upon which he was strapped onto with unbreakable leather. Even his mouth was gagged with something that he was heavily drooling on, and his nice work jacket had been taken from him, leaving him in the Capsule Corp. factory uniform.
"Welcome, Project Gamma. This is your new home. In five minutes we shall commence the procedures to turn you into the greatest being of all time."
'Project... Gamma? What's that?' Yamcha thought to himself, trying to mutter out the words through the gag but producing only faint noises of saliva gurgling in his throat.
"You know, Yamcha. Why did I choose you for such a great task? Hmm? Tell me that. Oh right, you can't. You see, the last two people I chose took too much time to persuade into joining my cause. Oh yes, their degrees of intelligence, although nowhere compared to my own, were far beyond what you could ever imagine. Sure, they fell for it in the end, but it took a considerable while of planning. You, on the other hand... pfft. But more importantly..."
At this, Pyro slowly grimaced at the thought of what he was about to say. "Alpha was too strong. Turns out Saiyans have more than a little potential in them to do the... impossible. Yes, I failed. Then came Beta, a human female. She turned out to be little more than burnt garbage, so I tossed her out through the air vents, hoping she would continue her life elsewhere if she did happen to be able to breathe in vacuum. And last of all, here we are, with you, Project Gamma. Not too strong, mediocre. And definitely dumb as all HFIL."
Looking into Yamcha's completely confused and misunderstanding eyes, Pyro let out a long, heavy sigh before concluding: "I won't explain anything further this time around. Let's just hope you don't die in the process. I heard that you like to do that a lot."
"Project Gamma shall commence in five... four... three... two... one."
Yamcha's table leaned forward as he was shifted to face a wall loaded with bizarre equipment, technology never before seen even in the depths of Capsule Corp.'s laboratories... if Yamcha even knew. Beginning to panic out of confusion and the obviousness of what was going to happen next, the wolf-like warrior began to frantically claw away at the leather straps binding him, to no avail as all he could do was wiggle his fingers. Even the collection of Ki was difficult in such an unconcentrated situation, and of course, screw his life for never learning any energy-based techniques from Roshi.
"MMMMMMMMMMNMMNMNNN!!" He cried before the first laser penetrated his body with forceful and piercing impact.
Searing through Yamcha's chest, the bright crimson beam did not kill him immediately. Instead, he traversed the length of his torso, moving back and forth, this way and that, as if scanning him. Then joined in a second laser, this one blue, that took over other portions of his body. Yamcha was now writhing in pain, tears flooding from his eyes as he continued to scream in agony through the muffling gag, fluids freely running down from his nostrils. A third laser soon joined the fray, this time emerald green, and Yamcha was no longer visible in the bright display of lights.
But above all the whiting pain, he could hear that demonic voice of the child, screaming into his ear:
"Soon. Soon you will become the savior of the universe, Yamcha. And then you... will thank me."
