Post by Rensou Hiruen on Feb 3, 2012 2:07:05 GMT -5
Rensou Hiruen, by all definition of the term, was a Saiyan. Fiercely competitive with resolute drive reinforcing the desire to be victorious at all costs, reigning in superiority was a trait he prided himself upon. Endeavors of zeni and battle alike were all approached with the utmost of effort, and always provided wondrous benefits as a result. Tomorrow would be a day for reaching for new heights in the arts of combat, both melee and ki alike. This current day would be one of the duties bestowed upon a General, and despite his wary feelings in regard for the position bestowed upon him by the new King, Rensou was exceptionally suited to take the reigns of the commanding officer of the Saiyan Solar Empire.
The Soldiers answered to the praise of Rensou, as well as to the oft-violent repercussions that awaited those that failed him. Rensou, in turn, answered to Boliko Koregutsu. A flawless system. Both Saiyan were the pinnacle of warring supremacy, several leagues above any comparable warrior gracing the planet. In addition to an exceptional talent for combat, the new General was a famous man. Multitudes of veterans and recruits alike had witnessed the carnage he was capable of during his days as an entertainer, the Gladiator Champion of Saru City. Respect was already etched into the stone. Furthering the overall acceptance, Rensou was a violent and inspiring figure in battle. Fear was an emotion unknown to him, and his confidence steeled those that followed him.
Though the last Hiruen never excelled in the arts of math and science, his brain was on par with that of an above average Saiyan. Flash decisions and certainty made him a terror for any foe to stand against he or his men, and his general callous attitude in relation for life would be the end of many of his warriors, but the losses of the enemy would be equal, if not greater. The young Saiyan would make a phenomenal leader whom would win and lose many glorious battles, and most certainly go down in history. That was a far cry from the legendary status he personally strived to attain, but that would come in time if his endeavors for greatness remained as intense as they had been in the past years.
“General Hiruen, sir,” came the voice, sweet and soft, accentuated by the graceful flicker of heat that resonated from every Saiyan tongue. Rensou rolled his hardly covered mass under the soft underbelly of silken sheets and covers, riches of other worlds, items of a past time when the Saiyan race was the Conquering force feared and respected within the galaxies. His hardened flesh had been cleaned and moisturized, scented and oxygenated – royalties only obtained by the elite. With a grasping hand he hid his face underneath a pillow of the softest feathers, rolling onto his stomach whilst a content yet complaining groan rumbled up from powerful lungs.
“Anienne, five more minutes~” he finally mumbled from the muffling effects of the masking headrest, and the female crossed her lithe arms over her chest as beautiful lips became a perfect grin. Her frame was tall and fit, her face unmarred by the scars that crossed her general's own. Even complexion and high cheekbones, sparkling orbs and the daintiest nose further completed her phenomenal specimen. Her dress was appealing yet revealed nothing unnecessary. She stood upon heeled knee-boots with pointed toe to enhance her femininity, with billowing black breeches to her waist, where the true revelation of her station began. Black armor could not hope to conceal her modest bust, and upon her left breast were the stars denoting her station and rank. Anienne was a Soldier of Lieutenant status, as well as Rensou's personal attendant.
“Your old home sold,” she chimed, only to be answered by another displeased moan from her superior. Her heels clicked across the marble floors of the home that had come with the increased standing within the military. With slender fingers she gently pulled the pillow away from his face. Rensou gave a mock growl, but in truth he was beginning to become awfully fond of his appointed attendant. Anienne buried those five fingers into his scalp, ruffling his washed and conditioned locks. Again, another annoyed groan, but this time Rensou sought refuge as he wriggled his mass down below the sanctity of the sheets and bedspread. The warrior had never had something so luxurious in all his life; the position, the quarters, the recognition, and the gorgeous female whom seemed to be as fond of he as he was her.
“. . .breakfast is ready,” alas, the ultimate weapon, if food was the key to the human heart, it was the battering ram to the Saiyan counterpart. The last Hiruen rolled onto his back, cocooning himself in those sheathing silks as he began to claw feverishly at the sudden encumbrance. Arienne began to giggle, but her laughter was short as Rensou managed to pull himself from bed and step off the other side, completely nude.
“General Hiruen!” she cried with embarrassment, turning with a swift motion to quickly exit the vicinity of the naked male, through the halls and down the stairs to the dining room where she began to construct a plate of the most wondrous breakfast a Saiyan could ask for. Eggs from numerous foul had been poached, scrambled, and fried. Slivers of crunchy meat, bacon, scrumptious bacon! Wide slivers of Vegetan ham was also readily abundant, and she quickly filled her plate with a heaping, steaming stack of the flavorful meats. The race was, after all, mostly carnivorous. Sliced apples and pears, unpeeled banana and glistening grapes were also available to those so inclined. Juices from each of the fruits were also readily available in pitchers of the clearest glass. Arienne chose a cup of coffee instead, lightening the bitterness with a touch of cream and ignoring the sugar.
The creak of a chair sounded as she took her seat, and at that moment Rensou bounded down the stairs. His typical attire, though his armor was crystal clean and polished, covered his muscular, tanned form. With twice the speed and vigor of his female companion, he too filled a platter well over the capacity with delicious, fresh meat and took a seat across from her. Immediately, he set himself upon devouring what he had as she occassionally lifted her gaze to shake her head at his progress. Not a scrap was wasted as Rensou finished his plate within the span of but a minute and leaned back in his chair.
“Fantastic,” he commented, lifting a cup of dark coffee to his lips and sipping at the invigorating heat.
“The servants indeed cook well,” she added, before politely slicing off a piece of ham and lifting it to her lips with a fork. Rensou was far from her level of etiquette.
“Aye,” the General agreed, pushing his chair away from the table before he began to make his way back to the food with his plate in hand. Arienne interrupted his quest.
“Your old home sold, Rensou,” she informed once again, for obviously Rensou had forgotten in his drowsy state. The former gladiator turned to face her as she tossed an envelope full of bills of zeni toward him, which a deft hand quickly caught. Rensou pulled the paper apart, swiping each and every fluttering bill as it slowly fell downward in a moment. With each catch, he counted the total of his earnings.
“Arienne, this will do well in funding the Saiba project. . .”
The Soldiers answered to the praise of Rensou, as well as to the oft-violent repercussions that awaited those that failed him. Rensou, in turn, answered to Boliko Koregutsu. A flawless system. Both Saiyan were the pinnacle of warring supremacy, several leagues above any comparable warrior gracing the planet. In addition to an exceptional talent for combat, the new General was a famous man. Multitudes of veterans and recruits alike had witnessed the carnage he was capable of during his days as an entertainer, the Gladiator Champion of Saru City. Respect was already etched into the stone. Furthering the overall acceptance, Rensou was a violent and inspiring figure in battle. Fear was an emotion unknown to him, and his confidence steeled those that followed him.
Though the last Hiruen never excelled in the arts of math and science, his brain was on par with that of an above average Saiyan. Flash decisions and certainty made him a terror for any foe to stand against he or his men, and his general callous attitude in relation for life would be the end of many of his warriors, but the losses of the enemy would be equal, if not greater. The young Saiyan would make a phenomenal leader whom would win and lose many glorious battles, and most certainly go down in history. That was a far cry from the legendary status he personally strived to attain, but that would come in time if his endeavors for greatness remained as intense as they had been in the past years.
“General Hiruen, sir,” came the voice, sweet and soft, accentuated by the graceful flicker of heat that resonated from every Saiyan tongue. Rensou rolled his hardly covered mass under the soft underbelly of silken sheets and covers, riches of other worlds, items of a past time when the Saiyan race was the Conquering force feared and respected within the galaxies. His hardened flesh had been cleaned and moisturized, scented and oxygenated – royalties only obtained by the elite. With a grasping hand he hid his face underneath a pillow of the softest feathers, rolling onto his stomach whilst a content yet complaining groan rumbled up from powerful lungs.
“Anienne, five more minutes~” he finally mumbled from the muffling effects of the masking headrest, and the female crossed her lithe arms over her chest as beautiful lips became a perfect grin. Her frame was tall and fit, her face unmarred by the scars that crossed her general's own. Even complexion and high cheekbones, sparkling orbs and the daintiest nose further completed her phenomenal specimen. Her dress was appealing yet revealed nothing unnecessary. She stood upon heeled knee-boots with pointed toe to enhance her femininity, with billowing black breeches to her waist, where the true revelation of her station began. Black armor could not hope to conceal her modest bust, and upon her left breast were the stars denoting her station and rank. Anienne was a Soldier of Lieutenant status, as well as Rensou's personal attendant.
“Your old home sold,” she chimed, only to be answered by another displeased moan from her superior. Her heels clicked across the marble floors of the home that had come with the increased standing within the military. With slender fingers she gently pulled the pillow away from his face. Rensou gave a mock growl, but in truth he was beginning to become awfully fond of his appointed attendant. Anienne buried those five fingers into his scalp, ruffling his washed and conditioned locks. Again, another annoyed groan, but this time Rensou sought refuge as he wriggled his mass down below the sanctity of the sheets and bedspread. The warrior had never had something so luxurious in all his life; the position, the quarters, the recognition, and the gorgeous female whom seemed to be as fond of he as he was her.
“. . .breakfast is ready,” alas, the ultimate weapon, if food was the key to the human heart, it was the battering ram to the Saiyan counterpart. The last Hiruen rolled onto his back, cocooning himself in those sheathing silks as he began to claw feverishly at the sudden encumbrance. Arienne began to giggle, but her laughter was short as Rensou managed to pull himself from bed and step off the other side, completely nude.
“General Hiruen!” she cried with embarrassment, turning with a swift motion to quickly exit the vicinity of the naked male, through the halls and down the stairs to the dining room where she began to construct a plate of the most wondrous breakfast a Saiyan could ask for. Eggs from numerous foul had been poached, scrambled, and fried. Slivers of crunchy meat, bacon, scrumptious bacon! Wide slivers of Vegetan ham was also readily abundant, and she quickly filled her plate with a heaping, steaming stack of the flavorful meats. The race was, after all, mostly carnivorous. Sliced apples and pears, unpeeled banana and glistening grapes were also available to those so inclined. Juices from each of the fruits were also readily available in pitchers of the clearest glass. Arienne chose a cup of coffee instead, lightening the bitterness with a touch of cream and ignoring the sugar.
The creak of a chair sounded as she took her seat, and at that moment Rensou bounded down the stairs. His typical attire, though his armor was crystal clean and polished, covered his muscular, tanned form. With twice the speed and vigor of his female companion, he too filled a platter well over the capacity with delicious, fresh meat and took a seat across from her. Immediately, he set himself upon devouring what he had as she occassionally lifted her gaze to shake her head at his progress. Not a scrap was wasted as Rensou finished his plate within the span of but a minute and leaned back in his chair.
“Fantastic,” he commented, lifting a cup of dark coffee to his lips and sipping at the invigorating heat.
“The servants indeed cook well,” she added, before politely slicing off a piece of ham and lifting it to her lips with a fork. Rensou was far from her level of etiquette.
“Aye,” the General agreed, pushing his chair away from the table before he began to make his way back to the food with his plate in hand. Arienne interrupted his quest.
“Your old home sold, Rensou,” she informed once again, for obviously Rensou had forgotten in his drowsy state. The former gladiator turned to face her as she tossed an envelope full of bills of zeni toward him, which a deft hand quickly caught. Rensou pulled the paper apart, swiping each and every fluttering bill as it slowly fell downward in a moment. With each catch, he counted the total of his earnings.
“Arienne, this will do well in funding the Saiba project. . .”
