Post by Nam Reikonaga on Oct 25, 2011 20:51:26 GMT -5
“Nam, I’m going out!” a woman shouted as she grabbed her stylish designer’s coat. “Don’t be late to class; it’s your first day!”
Nam walked down the stairs to see his mother out. She pointed behind him, and winked as she closed the door. The young teenager made his way back upstairs, and found himself facing a body sized mirror. He was wearing white, plain boxers and a black tank top. Nam gazed at the calendar next to the mirror: it was going to be a full moon tonight. He grabbed his scabbard and unsheathed his sword: reaching for the brown monkey’s tail that had grown back during his sleep. He closed his eyes as if bracing himself and swiftly swung his two-edged sword. Nam tossed the piece of unnecessary skin into the trash bin to dispose of later.
Suddenly, Nam’s alarm clock went off: he was late. His calm and quiet persona quickly changed as he ran around the room from left to right, with sword still in hand, grabbing a white undershirt, his shoes and his martial arts cloths. Lastly, he stripped his scabbard on the back and flew out the window. “I’m out!” he yelled. His butler waved goodbye as he mowed lawn.
The sun was bright today, shining on Nam’s tanned face. His brown hair, now combed, would slightly dance in the wind, but it still maintained its figure; except for that single strand of hair that’s always fringed on his face, which was moving rapidly and unpredictably. He began to feel that “new beginning” sensation. It ran through his whole body: he felt invigorated and proactive, ready to take on any task. He gazed down on Central City. It seemed to be very peaceful today. He’s been living there since he can remember.
After a while he noticed he was still holding his titanium sword, and quickly sheathed it. Moments later, his new school was just up ahead. For a brief moment, he was surprised. He was used to having to fly all the way to Mount Paozu, when he was subscribed to Victory School. In the beginning his mother would drive him there, but then his teachers urged him to take the hard route and run, it was a form a training, -so they said-. That’s when he decided to start developing his ki to master flight control. Now he could fly as he speaks, without staggering or having to think about his next move.
Upon arrival, without a pause between actions, he slowly descended and began walking as he touched ground. He met with what appeared to be another student, waiting for him at the entrance. She wore martial arts cloths similar to Nam’s, but with a skirt. Resting on the right of her hips was a katana.
“Are you the new transfer student?” she asked, welcoming him with a smile.
“Reikonaga Nam,” he replied, his face still and unchanged.
“Welcome to Kikoukenjutsu,” she greeted. Nam followed behind her into the institutes halls. There were students practicing their new learned techniques on every corner: they practiced using wooden swords. During their walk, the woman would brief him on schedules, principles, and any other basic knowledge Nam should know. She led him to an empty corner and grabbed two practice swords, tossing one at Nam. It resembled his own long sword, while she had a wooden katana, -or Bokutou. “First, let’s see what you’re capable of…”
Both of them left their scabbards resting on the wall and got into fighting position. Nam, not having any real sword training, was not very sure about his position. He just did what seemed natural to him: hold his sword in front and pointing at his adversary. His opponent though, she seemed to know exactly what she was doing. The students around them stopped their friendly spar to observe their new classmate, Nam. He began to feel nervous and insecure. After a moment the woman charged spontaneously. Nam staggered nervously, unable to coordinate his movements and barely blocked her strokes with his sword, moving back every time she strikes. Her pink hair distracted him from the bokken, and barely dodged her thrust. Nam was practically on his tiptoes. The students laughed as they watched the “Match”.
“Defense is good, but you’ll never win without attacking,” she lectured. Reikonaga stood his ground and gripped his sword, giving it a nice swing. He thought that since his sword was heavier, he would be able to push her katana away and leave her wide open, but he was surprised when she easily over powered him, making him lose the grip on his sword, which then fell down. The match was over and everyone returned to their duties. She smiled, picking up the wooden practice sword and putting them back in their place.
“Nice try,” she unsheathed Nam’s long sword and began imitating what he ‘should’ have done. “Next time, remember to think of your dominant hand as the pivot, and lower your left hand to the pommel of your sword. You get your power from the left hand. After that, remember to stand with your right foot in front of the left and hold the pommel of your sword over your bellybutton, but don’t rest on it. This way, if your opponent charges at you-” the pink-haired woman spontaneously ran towards Nam and stopped with the tip of the sword inches from his face, “your opponent will run into your blade.”
She handed over his sword and walked away while looking back over her shoulder and waving goodbye. “Nice meeting you Reikonaga. Incidentally, you can call me Villa.”
The bell rang; Nam sheathed his sword and reattached his scabbard. It was time to head back home. As he exited the school, a group of students were bullying a weaker low class student. Not only was he outnumbered, but he was also unarmed. Nam didn’t believe in blade on fist matches, -it was a moral thing. “What’s happening here?” he demanded.
The guy in the middle of the group walked forward and observed Nam. “Well, if it isn’t Reikonaga, the new exchange student. Don’t worry, we were just teaching this weakling a thing or two about swords.” He unsheathed his sword as he said this. It was similar to Nam’s: a long, two-edged, titanium sword. “Now that I think about it, you could use a few lessons too, no?”
Nam quickly braced himself and drew out his sword. He remembered what Villa had told him and tried to put it into practice: Right hand, just below the guard; left hand on the pommel, just over his bellybutton, facing his opponent; left foot behind his right. His adversary smirked and initiated a slash strike towards the chest. In response, Nam arched his left foot and slid his right foot forward, slashing back to intercept his attack. The two clashed at a power struggle, but for some reason he was being overwhelmed.
“Hah, looks like Villa forgot to tell you about the use of your ki.” The guy grinned, slowly over powering Nam more and more. The struggle Nam was facing with his adversary reminded him of the past, when he was the weak one…
A group of kids were behind school grounds. One of them was tossed to the ground, beat up and injured. The other kids laughed as they watched him stand up, just so he can kiss the dirt again. One of the kids, the one doing all the beating, walked closer and kicked the other one on the gut, while still on the ground. The young boy let out a grunt and spit blood on the floor, but he got back up.
“This isn’t a cartoon kid, and you’re most definitely not Goku.” The taller one slammed him back to the ground. “Give up!” Back then, Nam believed that true power came from the heart. He believed his will to win was all he needed to succeed. But he also learned that day, that sometimes, wanting to win just wasn’t enough; which brought him back to the present. I want to win, and I’m fighting to protect… why can’t I do it…? he thought.
“It’s because you lack skill, Nam.” A familiar pink-haired woman was standing behind them, watching the battle. She didn’t seem like she was about to interfere. It was like she could read his mind.
Nam closed his eyes and cursed under his breath, “screw it!” he pushed his opponent away and made some distance between them. His adversary wasn’t planning to give him time to think though, as he charged right at him, Nam broke his stance, holding his sword with one hand, defenseless, waiting for his opponent to arrive with a slash.
“What are you do-“ Villa didn’t finish her sentence.
At the last second Nam let go of his sword, and as it landed on the floor, he crunched his fist onto his opponents stomach; also letting go of his sword. The guy dropped to his knees, trying to process what happened. His friends immediately arched their weapons and charged together towards Reikonaga. Villa shouted, but they didn’t listen. As the sun began to set, the last of them were on their knees, with Nam standing alone in the middle. Villa was speechless and could only watch as Nam withdrew his sword and left. Even the guy who was being protected couldn’t manage a simple “thank you”.
Flying back home, Nam had completely forgotten about the past events. I wonder what the point of all this is… it was a common subject for him these days. It’s become a necessity for him to ask himself for a reason to what he’s doing. Why am I learning how to sword fight? Why am I fighting at all? Why do I get up every day? to him, life was beginning to seem like an endless cycle of meaningless events. Every day we wake up early to go to school, to prepare ourselves for the world. Then we will major in a profession, get married, settle down and have kids, just so they can do the same thing. What was the point? Where were we going with all of this?
Suddenly, his trace of thought was lost as his eyes met with a familiar looking car that was tipped over. It was his mother’s car. He raced down to check, to find her bleeding. Tears immediately broke out and he ripped the door off, laying her down on the ground. Rage grew inside him and he let out a cry to the skies. The energy signature of the perpetrator was still floating in the air, so Nam got on his feet and swore vengeance over his mother’s corpse. He kissed her forehead farewell and closed her lifeless eyes, the shine was gone.
He tracked down the power signature, which took him all the way to the Rocky Mountains, where a human figure stood, floating midair. It seemed he had some kind of tail wrapped around his weist, and the combination of long black hair yelled saiyan to him. The two of them just stood there, floating. They both knew of each other’s presence. The dusk winds of the night would blow and fill the distance between them with silence. The full moon was out in full bloom. Nam just stood there, letting his rage build up. The murderer of his mother was feet away, and he’d been ignoring him as if he were anybody.
Finally the silence broke with a question, “Do I have business with you?” the man said, still looking the other way, meditating. Nam immediately burst out with a cry and rushed in for the strike, but the saiyan turned around as Nam approached and easily dodged his attack.
“And you are?” his voice was deep and arrogant. Nam didn’t answer he simply tried a second attack, which was again dodged without any apparent effort. The stranger seemed concerned and clicked a button on a weird machine on his face. It seemed like a scouter to Nam.
“Let’s see… your power level seems decent enough, -that is, for someone living in this planet… but you’re definitely no match for me.” He assured, calm as ever.
“You bastard, you killed my mother!” Nam yelled, as he grabbed onto the person’s tail, but he didn’t seem to be affected by it.
“HAHA! Nice try, but I’ve trained my tail. I can see you know of my kind. I’d like to know why you still try to confront me… What’s this about your relative?” the saiyan asked. He turned to face the furious human. His body was much larger and defined.
“Don’t you play dumb with me! Red car, human, brown hair, A COAT!” there was anger in Nam’s eyes, eyes full of hatred.
The saiyan laughed again, which only angered Nam more. “You can’t expect me to remember the face of every human I kill, can you? Your mother was simply unlucky enough to get caught in one of my little strolls.” He smirked and stared down at the defiant teenager. The expression on Nam’s face annoyed the saiyan, “well, if you think you can take me on. Allow me to show you your place…” the saiyan went for Nam’s face and flicked his finger, sending him crash landing towards the mountains.
Nam was injured and his cloths were ripped, but he stood up anyway. He knew that this was a fight he could not lose. He had to win, no matter what. He broke out of the rocky surface containing him and the wind began to circulate his body and go through his hair. As he did this, dust and dirt rose from the ground and he gradually ascended. The numbers on the saiyans scouter rose, but he was still not impressed. Nam then propelled towards the saiyan at tremendous speed, preparing his fist. Upon contact, the saiyan simply gripped his sorry excuse for a punch and tossed him to the side, like a child that doesn’t want to eat his vegetables.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA!” he laughed. No matter how many times he was thrown down, Nam kept going at him, without giving up.
“Why the hell did the humans wish for the revival of saiyans? What was going through their minds!?” Nam protested, still trying to land a sucker on the guy. This last statement annoyed the saiyan and he decided to slam dunk Reikonaga to the ground. This time, he couldn’t stand.
The saiyan stood over Nam, laughing, “AHAHAHAA-“
“W-why… why can’t I win?” Nam questioned, still trying to stand.
The saiyan turned on his serious face for a moment. “You wanna know why? It’s because you’re weak! You’re low class mutt! Heck, you’re not even pure!” he explained. “You’re the worst saiyans can offer.” The saiyan placed his foot over Nam and began to press on his injuries. The injured half-saiyan screamed in agony. “Maybe a bit of suffering will get you some more power, but just maybe! HAHAHAHA!” he laughed, and grinned, and pressed harder every time. After a while, Nam stopped screaming and closed his eyes.
“What, did I break him?” the saiyan joked. He stopped kicking for a brief moment to inspect his play toy, but then started to crush on him again. “WAKE UP! HAHAHAHAHAHAA!” but Nam remained silent.
I have been consumed by anger all this time, I forgot to use my techniques… he thought. He began to focus his ki, and the air around Reikonaga took life once more. The ground elevated and broke into pieces circulating the injured half-saiyan. Nam’s red aura spawned and formed a shield over him, covering from his adversary’s attacks. This confused the saiyan and resulted in him watching silently to see what he was going to do. Still shielding himself, he lifted his body into the air, just over the surface. He then opened his eyes, which flared with rage.
A moment of silence… “Now what…” a rhetorical question back up with a smirked and followed by a swift thrust with his fist that broke through Nam’s barrier like glass and hit him directly in the gut, propelling him through a pair of mountains. Dust was lifted, and nothing could be seen. Nothing but a trail left by Nam’s crash landing.
“HAHAHAHA! Just so you know, my power level is OVER 9000, boy. You can’t beat me no matter how hard you try. Cause the truth is, resolve won’t get you anywhere without power to back it up.” Unable to sense Nam’s life force, the saiyan spat on the ground and turned his back.
Suddenly, as he was about to fly away, a feint voice could be heard in the distance. Nam’s life force had returned. “Ka… me…” he spelled.
“What’s this, can’t speak properly anymore?” the saiyan joked. However, Nam didn’t answer back.
“HA… ME...” his voice was now echoing through the mountains.
The impatient saiyan was becoming restless, “listen here, I don’t have all day to play with yo-,“ he stopped, as he saw a bulb of blue light, hiding in the airborne dust.
This is it… “HAAAAAA!” a reverberating cry followed by a blue beam of energy was launched through the dust and caught the cocky saiyan off guard, giving him a direct hit. Nam had put every bit of energy he had left into this final attack.
The smoke soon dispersed, Nam was laying on his back, with a single hand in the air, from which he charged the beam. I… won? he thought, unable to verbally express his feelings any longer. He was so badly injured he couldn’t figure out why the pants of a fighter is always the only piece of fabric to barely survive. Nam relaxed his body and began to laugh at himself, or at least, that was the intent. But his mood was soon crushed, when he heard the mocking laughter of what he hoped was an illusion. He lifted his head, as far as his mistreated body allowed, trying to see what was coming; a figurative human was walking towards him. With the combination of distance and Nam’s blurred, tired eyes, he could not make out the details of the dark figure that had spawned from the depth of the dark mountains. But that was fixed with time, when the saiyan had gotten to talking distance.
He looked down casually; examining the half-saiyan’s terrified expression. “What, you thought you killed me?” a rhetorical question with a bit of sarcasm to spice its flavor. He wasn’t even scratched. “I gotta admit… you scared me there, for a moment. But like I said, this isn’t a movie where the good guys always win. This is LIFE!” with that last word; he slammed his foot on Nam once again, who could barely even grunt at this level. The saiyan gripped Nam’s face and lifted him in the air, -what’s left of him at least.- and he then realized the earthling had feinted. I gotta admit, he sure has some resistance… the saiyan thought. He tossed Nam aside, as if he were some disposable trash and left him there, under the full moon.
OOC: I'll take PL. Can I have some feedback on my writing please?
Nam walked down the stairs to see his mother out. She pointed behind him, and winked as she closed the door. The young teenager made his way back upstairs, and found himself facing a body sized mirror. He was wearing white, plain boxers and a black tank top. Nam gazed at the calendar next to the mirror: it was going to be a full moon tonight. He grabbed his scabbard and unsheathed his sword: reaching for the brown monkey’s tail that had grown back during his sleep. He closed his eyes as if bracing himself and swiftly swung his two-edged sword. Nam tossed the piece of unnecessary skin into the trash bin to dispose of later.
Suddenly, Nam’s alarm clock went off: he was late. His calm and quiet persona quickly changed as he ran around the room from left to right, with sword still in hand, grabbing a white undershirt, his shoes and his martial arts cloths. Lastly, he stripped his scabbard on the back and flew out the window. “I’m out!” he yelled. His butler waved goodbye as he mowed lawn.
The sun was bright today, shining on Nam’s tanned face. His brown hair, now combed, would slightly dance in the wind, but it still maintained its figure; except for that single strand of hair that’s always fringed on his face, which was moving rapidly and unpredictably. He began to feel that “new beginning” sensation. It ran through his whole body: he felt invigorated and proactive, ready to take on any task. He gazed down on Central City. It seemed to be very peaceful today. He’s been living there since he can remember.
After a while he noticed he was still holding his titanium sword, and quickly sheathed it. Moments later, his new school was just up ahead. For a brief moment, he was surprised. He was used to having to fly all the way to Mount Paozu, when he was subscribed to Victory School. In the beginning his mother would drive him there, but then his teachers urged him to take the hard route and run, it was a form a training, -so they said-. That’s when he decided to start developing his ki to master flight control. Now he could fly as he speaks, without staggering or having to think about his next move.
Upon arrival, without a pause between actions, he slowly descended and began walking as he touched ground. He met with what appeared to be another student, waiting for him at the entrance. She wore martial arts cloths similar to Nam’s, but with a skirt. Resting on the right of her hips was a katana.
“Are you the new transfer student?” she asked, welcoming him with a smile.
“Reikonaga Nam,” he replied, his face still and unchanged.
“Welcome to Kikoukenjutsu,” she greeted. Nam followed behind her into the institutes halls. There were students practicing their new learned techniques on every corner: they practiced using wooden swords. During their walk, the woman would brief him on schedules, principles, and any other basic knowledge Nam should know. She led him to an empty corner and grabbed two practice swords, tossing one at Nam. It resembled his own long sword, while she had a wooden katana, -or Bokutou. “First, let’s see what you’re capable of…”
Both of them left their scabbards resting on the wall and got into fighting position. Nam, not having any real sword training, was not very sure about his position. He just did what seemed natural to him: hold his sword in front and pointing at his adversary. His opponent though, she seemed to know exactly what she was doing. The students around them stopped their friendly spar to observe their new classmate, Nam. He began to feel nervous and insecure. After a moment the woman charged spontaneously. Nam staggered nervously, unable to coordinate his movements and barely blocked her strokes with his sword, moving back every time she strikes. Her pink hair distracted him from the bokken, and barely dodged her thrust. Nam was practically on his tiptoes. The students laughed as they watched the “Match”.
“Defense is good, but you’ll never win without attacking,” she lectured. Reikonaga stood his ground and gripped his sword, giving it a nice swing. He thought that since his sword was heavier, he would be able to push her katana away and leave her wide open, but he was surprised when she easily over powered him, making him lose the grip on his sword, which then fell down. The match was over and everyone returned to their duties. She smiled, picking up the wooden practice sword and putting them back in their place.
“Nice try,” she unsheathed Nam’s long sword and began imitating what he ‘should’ have done. “Next time, remember to think of your dominant hand as the pivot, and lower your left hand to the pommel of your sword. You get your power from the left hand. After that, remember to stand with your right foot in front of the left and hold the pommel of your sword over your bellybutton, but don’t rest on it. This way, if your opponent charges at you-” the pink-haired woman spontaneously ran towards Nam and stopped with the tip of the sword inches from his face, “your opponent will run into your blade.”
She handed over his sword and walked away while looking back over her shoulder and waving goodbye. “Nice meeting you Reikonaga. Incidentally, you can call me Villa.”
The bell rang; Nam sheathed his sword and reattached his scabbard. It was time to head back home. As he exited the school, a group of students were bullying a weaker low class student. Not only was he outnumbered, but he was also unarmed. Nam didn’t believe in blade on fist matches, -it was a moral thing. “What’s happening here?” he demanded.
The guy in the middle of the group walked forward and observed Nam. “Well, if it isn’t Reikonaga, the new exchange student. Don’t worry, we were just teaching this weakling a thing or two about swords.” He unsheathed his sword as he said this. It was similar to Nam’s: a long, two-edged, titanium sword. “Now that I think about it, you could use a few lessons too, no?”
Nam quickly braced himself and drew out his sword. He remembered what Villa had told him and tried to put it into practice: Right hand, just below the guard; left hand on the pommel, just over his bellybutton, facing his opponent; left foot behind his right. His adversary smirked and initiated a slash strike towards the chest. In response, Nam arched his left foot and slid his right foot forward, slashing back to intercept his attack. The two clashed at a power struggle, but for some reason he was being overwhelmed.
“Hah, looks like Villa forgot to tell you about the use of your ki.” The guy grinned, slowly over powering Nam more and more. The struggle Nam was facing with his adversary reminded him of the past, when he was the weak one…
A group of kids were behind school grounds. One of them was tossed to the ground, beat up and injured. The other kids laughed as they watched him stand up, just so he can kiss the dirt again. One of the kids, the one doing all the beating, walked closer and kicked the other one on the gut, while still on the ground. The young boy let out a grunt and spit blood on the floor, but he got back up.
“This isn’t a cartoon kid, and you’re most definitely not Goku.” The taller one slammed him back to the ground. “Give up!” Back then, Nam believed that true power came from the heart. He believed his will to win was all he needed to succeed. But he also learned that day, that sometimes, wanting to win just wasn’t enough; which brought him back to the present. I want to win, and I’m fighting to protect… why can’t I do it…? he thought.
“It’s because you lack skill, Nam.” A familiar pink-haired woman was standing behind them, watching the battle. She didn’t seem like she was about to interfere. It was like she could read his mind.
Nam closed his eyes and cursed under his breath, “screw it!” he pushed his opponent away and made some distance between them. His adversary wasn’t planning to give him time to think though, as he charged right at him, Nam broke his stance, holding his sword with one hand, defenseless, waiting for his opponent to arrive with a slash.
“What are you do-“ Villa didn’t finish her sentence.
At the last second Nam let go of his sword, and as it landed on the floor, he crunched his fist onto his opponents stomach; also letting go of his sword. The guy dropped to his knees, trying to process what happened. His friends immediately arched their weapons and charged together towards Reikonaga. Villa shouted, but they didn’t listen. As the sun began to set, the last of them were on their knees, with Nam standing alone in the middle. Villa was speechless and could only watch as Nam withdrew his sword and left. Even the guy who was being protected couldn’t manage a simple “thank you”.
Flying back home, Nam had completely forgotten about the past events. I wonder what the point of all this is… it was a common subject for him these days. It’s become a necessity for him to ask himself for a reason to what he’s doing. Why am I learning how to sword fight? Why am I fighting at all? Why do I get up every day? to him, life was beginning to seem like an endless cycle of meaningless events. Every day we wake up early to go to school, to prepare ourselves for the world. Then we will major in a profession, get married, settle down and have kids, just so they can do the same thing. What was the point? Where were we going with all of this?
Suddenly, his trace of thought was lost as his eyes met with a familiar looking car that was tipped over. It was his mother’s car. He raced down to check, to find her bleeding. Tears immediately broke out and he ripped the door off, laying her down on the ground. Rage grew inside him and he let out a cry to the skies. The energy signature of the perpetrator was still floating in the air, so Nam got on his feet and swore vengeance over his mother’s corpse. He kissed her forehead farewell and closed her lifeless eyes, the shine was gone.
He tracked down the power signature, which took him all the way to the Rocky Mountains, where a human figure stood, floating midair. It seemed he had some kind of tail wrapped around his weist, and the combination of long black hair yelled saiyan to him. The two of them just stood there, floating. They both knew of each other’s presence. The dusk winds of the night would blow and fill the distance between them with silence. The full moon was out in full bloom. Nam just stood there, letting his rage build up. The murderer of his mother was feet away, and he’d been ignoring him as if he were anybody.
Finally the silence broke with a question, “Do I have business with you?” the man said, still looking the other way, meditating. Nam immediately burst out with a cry and rushed in for the strike, but the saiyan turned around as Nam approached and easily dodged his attack.
“And you are?” his voice was deep and arrogant. Nam didn’t answer he simply tried a second attack, which was again dodged without any apparent effort. The stranger seemed concerned and clicked a button on a weird machine on his face. It seemed like a scouter to Nam.
“Let’s see… your power level seems decent enough, -that is, for someone living in this planet… but you’re definitely no match for me.” He assured, calm as ever.
“You bastard, you killed my mother!” Nam yelled, as he grabbed onto the person’s tail, but he didn’t seem to be affected by it.
“HAHA! Nice try, but I’ve trained my tail. I can see you know of my kind. I’d like to know why you still try to confront me… What’s this about your relative?” the saiyan asked. He turned to face the furious human. His body was much larger and defined.
“Don’t you play dumb with me! Red car, human, brown hair, A COAT!” there was anger in Nam’s eyes, eyes full of hatred.
The saiyan laughed again, which only angered Nam more. “You can’t expect me to remember the face of every human I kill, can you? Your mother was simply unlucky enough to get caught in one of my little strolls.” He smirked and stared down at the defiant teenager. The expression on Nam’s face annoyed the saiyan, “well, if you think you can take me on. Allow me to show you your place…” the saiyan went for Nam’s face and flicked his finger, sending him crash landing towards the mountains.
Nam was injured and his cloths were ripped, but he stood up anyway. He knew that this was a fight he could not lose. He had to win, no matter what. He broke out of the rocky surface containing him and the wind began to circulate his body and go through his hair. As he did this, dust and dirt rose from the ground and he gradually ascended. The numbers on the saiyans scouter rose, but he was still not impressed. Nam then propelled towards the saiyan at tremendous speed, preparing his fist. Upon contact, the saiyan simply gripped his sorry excuse for a punch and tossed him to the side, like a child that doesn’t want to eat his vegetables.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA!” he laughed. No matter how many times he was thrown down, Nam kept going at him, without giving up.
“Why the hell did the humans wish for the revival of saiyans? What was going through their minds!?” Nam protested, still trying to land a sucker on the guy. This last statement annoyed the saiyan and he decided to slam dunk Reikonaga to the ground. This time, he couldn’t stand.
The saiyan stood over Nam, laughing, “AHAHAHAA-“
“W-why… why can’t I win?” Nam questioned, still trying to stand.
The saiyan turned on his serious face for a moment. “You wanna know why? It’s because you’re weak! You’re low class mutt! Heck, you’re not even pure!” he explained. “You’re the worst saiyans can offer.” The saiyan placed his foot over Nam and began to press on his injuries. The injured half-saiyan screamed in agony. “Maybe a bit of suffering will get you some more power, but just maybe! HAHAHAHA!” he laughed, and grinned, and pressed harder every time. After a while, Nam stopped screaming and closed his eyes.
“What, did I break him?” the saiyan joked. He stopped kicking for a brief moment to inspect his play toy, but then started to crush on him again. “WAKE UP! HAHAHAHAHAHAA!” but Nam remained silent.
I have been consumed by anger all this time, I forgot to use my techniques… he thought. He began to focus his ki, and the air around Reikonaga took life once more. The ground elevated and broke into pieces circulating the injured half-saiyan. Nam’s red aura spawned and formed a shield over him, covering from his adversary’s attacks. This confused the saiyan and resulted in him watching silently to see what he was going to do. Still shielding himself, he lifted his body into the air, just over the surface. He then opened his eyes, which flared with rage.
A moment of silence… “Now what…” a rhetorical question back up with a smirked and followed by a swift thrust with his fist that broke through Nam’s barrier like glass and hit him directly in the gut, propelling him through a pair of mountains. Dust was lifted, and nothing could be seen. Nothing but a trail left by Nam’s crash landing.
“HAHAHAHA! Just so you know, my power level is OVER 9000, boy. You can’t beat me no matter how hard you try. Cause the truth is, resolve won’t get you anywhere without power to back it up.” Unable to sense Nam’s life force, the saiyan spat on the ground and turned his back.
Suddenly, as he was about to fly away, a feint voice could be heard in the distance. Nam’s life force had returned. “Ka… me…” he spelled.
“What’s this, can’t speak properly anymore?” the saiyan joked. However, Nam didn’t answer back.
“HA… ME...” his voice was now echoing through the mountains.
The impatient saiyan was becoming restless, “listen here, I don’t have all day to play with yo-,“ he stopped, as he saw a bulb of blue light, hiding in the airborne dust.
This is it… “HAAAAAA!” a reverberating cry followed by a blue beam of energy was launched through the dust and caught the cocky saiyan off guard, giving him a direct hit. Nam had put every bit of energy he had left into this final attack.
The smoke soon dispersed, Nam was laying on his back, with a single hand in the air, from which he charged the beam. I… won? he thought, unable to verbally express his feelings any longer. He was so badly injured he couldn’t figure out why the pants of a fighter is always the only piece of fabric to barely survive. Nam relaxed his body and began to laugh at himself, or at least, that was the intent. But his mood was soon crushed, when he heard the mocking laughter of what he hoped was an illusion. He lifted his head, as far as his mistreated body allowed, trying to see what was coming; a figurative human was walking towards him. With the combination of distance and Nam’s blurred, tired eyes, he could not make out the details of the dark figure that had spawned from the depth of the dark mountains. But that was fixed with time, when the saiyan had gotten to talking distance.
He looked down casually; examining the half-saiyan’s terrified expression. “What, you thought you killed me?” a rhetorical question with a bit of sarcasm to spice its flavor. He wasn’t even scratched. “I gotta admit… you scared me there, for a moment. But like I said, this isn’t a movie where the good guys always win. This is LIFE!” with that last word; he slammed his foot on Nam once again, who could barely even grunt at this level. The saiyan gripped Nam’s face and lifted him in the air, -what’s left of him at least.- and he then realized the earthling had feinted. I gotta admit, he sure has some resistance… the saiyan thought. He tossed Nam aside, as if he were some disposable trash and left him there, under the full moon.
OOC: I'll take PL. Can I have some feedback on my writing please?
Character Bio: 
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