Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2012 23:05:12 GMT -5
Cymbal’s green fist thrust forward and punched across the namek’s face. “C’mon Bass, you plan on beating Touketsuki like that?” he taunted. The two were fighting outdoors, surrounded by their brethren. Snare, Master of the Warrior clan, was standing idly watching their two best warriors fight; one of them being his son. The man sustained a stern face. Bass rubbed his left cheek; his opponent packed quite a punch. It was expected, him being the apple of his father’s eye. It boiled the young namekian every time he thought about it; his father picking favorites over his own son.
Bass clenched his right fist and countered, returning the blow to his adversary’s cheek. “How’s this!” a youthful and energized voice. Bass was the odd ball in the clan; everyone was so stern and serious, they treated him like a kid. But maybe that’s exactly what Bass is –an overgrown child. Cymbal’s face flushed, he probably thought it insulting that he had let himself get hit by someone of his caliber. The older namekian clenched his fist and punched Bass in the same spot once again.
The two continued this onslaught, striking each other in the same spot, one after the other as if wondering who could take the most hits before spilling blood or getting knocked out. Their faces turned redder and redder with every blow; they began to look like demons instead of nameks. Cymbal could play along, but Bass was lost. He wouldn’t stop until his opponent stopped and that put him at a disadvantage.
Bass launched another brainless blow to the face, but to his surprise Cymbal got tired of the routine and tilted his head slightly to the left. The namek then followed through with a strike in the abs. Bass bent down with the blow, his eyes widened as saliva spat out with a grunt. Bass was holding his stomach with both arms; he was winded –definitely not expecting that. Cymbal could only smirk and sent a roundhouse kick to the face; the same spot he had been receiving those punches. The impact lifted the namekian’s feet off the ground as he was catapulted to where force had taken him.
He began to scold himself for letting himself get tricked and before he knew it, an extended hand had stretched outward to crab onto the namek’s collar and pulled him back, lowering his hand so Bass would be dragged through the ground, preparing his right fist to deliver a powerful blow once Bass had arrived. This one was to the right cheek and the namek dropped to his side on the ground. Cymbal stood triumphantly waiting for Bass to get back on his feet while flicking his right hand.
“Was that a bit too sudden?” he smirked. Everyone remained quiet watching the fight with anxiety. Some were even opening bets on the winner, most of them were betting on Cymbal as usual. Snare stood silently as his frown grew deeper and his right foot began to tap impatiently on the hardened dirt. Bass lifted his face from the ground while staring at the dirt a few moments, his face flushed again. He cleaned the blood from his lips and pushed himself back on his feet. “I will NOT lose to you…” he reassured. His white gi had gotten dirty. Cymbal grinned and got into a battle stance, “your move.”
Bass snarled at his foe and charged in. Cymbal tensed himself ready to counter any move, but nobody would have expected for the namek to launch an energy wave from point blank. Cymbal’s eyes widened, he only had time to cover his body with his arms as the yellow beam propelled him backwards. The audience jerked away, leaving an opening for the blast and evading injury. Cymbal’s trajectory ended as he crashed with an elevated terrain and the energy wave dispersed. The namek’s clothes were a bit torn and he held a flushed expression as he stood back up from the ground.
“Are you insane!” Bass flinched to the deep and vibrant voice that erased his proud smirk away. It was Snare, Bass’ father. “You could have injured someone!” he flared. Bass remained quiet, not knowing how to reply. But before they could continue, Cymbal had launched a blast of his own, “DEMONIC WAVE!”
Bass watched as the powerful beam lifted the dirt and cratered the ground as it proceeded with its destination. Bass cocked his hand back and thrust another energy wave to rival the blast and so a deadlock formed. The nameks watching the battle had stepped aside and made distance between them and the fighters. The one if white fabrics and the other in purple were now in a power struggle. Although Bass’ energy wave didn’t have a name, it was just as strong as Cymbal’s Demonic Wave. After all, the power depends entirely on the person producing the attack.
The two yellow beams fluctuated from left to right, interchanging the lead on either battler. “There are buildings nearby; you’re going to destroy their homes!” Snare warned. The stern man had lost his temper and was furious at the two’s reckless behavior. But they were lost in the heat of battle, each craving to surpass the other and become the next head of the clan. Cymbal seemed to have heard their master’s cries and began to take flight by manipulating his chi. Bass hadn’t noticed, but he also took flight as a means to challenge his foe and prove himself superior. His method was purely of the mind, using his telekinetic abilities to bring himself into the air.
The two nameks rose to the skies and brought their beams with them. The other’s just watched from below, some even flew up with them to have a better view of the fight. “Give it up Bass.” Cymbal suggested. “You’ll never beat me.” The namek strengthened his blast pushing it further towards Bass’ side.
“We’ll just see about that!” Bass countered, increasing his own chi and manifesting it through his attack as it widened and forced the other back until they were evenly placed in the center. Cymbal was a darker tone of green compared Bass and his face was thinner with bone. He let a confident smirk at Bass, showing his sharp demon-like teeth. Bass sometimes wondered if the namek was of the demon caste by disguise, he wouldn’t have been surprised. The two yelled out and burst their power levels as if it were rehearsed, they voices intertwined as they echoed around the vast land; their respective aura flaring up and the energy waves buffing with power that seemed unlimited as they grew. Finally, the center of their beams, the orgasmic nucleus expanded and exploded in the air –momentarily blinding everyone and blowing away anyone who was flying too close; everyone except the two namekians who continued their onslaught in the air.
They looked more like a blur of white and purple floating around the air from side to side at every angle, while throwing every punch, knee, and kick without delay and effectively. It was another deadlock in disguise. It wasn’t one of energy, but combat skills. A cluster of attacks, blocks, and counters from head to toe; the two could only grin at each other both confident in their abilities and sure of their victories. But they couldn’t both win, no matter how big their ego was.
One final blast separated the two as their right fists connected in an electrical encounter. The force of their powers colliding sent transparent waves that shook whoever was near. It wasn’t that their power was so great; it was more about the similarity in their ability. The rivalry was almost flawless.
Bass clenched his right fist and countered, returning the blow to his adversary’s cheek. “How’s this!” a youthful and energized voice. Bass was the odd ball in the clan; everyone was so stern and serious, they treated him like a kid. But maybe that’s exactly what Bass is –an overgrown child. Cymbal’s face flushed, he probably thought it insulting that he had let himself get hit by someone of his caliber. The older namekian clenched his fist and punched Bass in the same spot once again.
The two continued this onslaught, striking each other in the same spot, one after the other as if wondering who could take the most hits before spilling blood or getting knocked out. Their faces turned redder and redder with every blow; they began to look like demons instead of nameks. Cymbal could play along, but Bass was lost. He wouldn’t stop until his opponent stopped and that put him at a disadvantage.
Bass launched another brainless blow to the face, but to his surprise Cymbal got tired of the routine and tilted his head slightly to the left. The namek then followed through with a strike in the abs. Bass bent down with the blow, his eyes widened as saliva spat out with a grunt. Bass was holding his stomach with both arms; he was winded –definitely not expecting that. Cymbal could only smirk and sent a roundhouse kick to the face; the same spot he had been receiving those punches. The impact lifted the namekian’s feet off the ground as he was catapulted to where force had taken him.
He began to scold himself for letting himself get tricked and before he knew it, an extended hand had stretched outward to crab onto the namek’s collar and pulled him back, lowering his hand so Bass would be dragged through the ground, preparing his right fist to deliver a powerful blow once Bass had arrived. This one was to the right cheek and the namek dropped to his side on the ground. Cymbal stood triumphantly waiting for Bass to get back on his feet while flicking his right hand.
“Was that a bit too sudden?” he smirked. Everyone remained quiet watching the fight with anxiety. Some were even opening bets on the winner, most of them were betting on Cymbal as usual. Snare stood silently as his frown grew deeper and his right foot began to tap impatiently on the hardened dirt. Bass lifted his face from the ground while staring at the dirt a few moments, his face flushed again. He cleaned the blood from his lips and pushed himself back on his feet. “I will NOT lose to you…” he reassured. His white gi had gotten dirty. Cymbal grinned and got into a battle stance, “your move.”
Bass snarled at his foe and charged in. Cymbal tensed himself ready to counter any move, but nobody would have expected for the namek to launch an energy wave from point blank. Cymbal’s eyes widened, he only had time to cover his body with his arms as the yellow beam propelled him backwards. The audience jerked away, leaving an opening for the blast and evading injury. Cymbal’s trajectory ended as he crashed with an elevated terrain and the energy wave dispersed. The namek’s clothes were a bit torn and he held a flushed expression as he stood back up from the ground.
“Are you insane!” Bass flinched to the deep and vibrant voice that erased his proud smirk away. It was Snare, Bass’ father. “You could have injured someone!” he flared. Bass remained quiet, not knowing how to reply. But before they could continue, Cymbal had launched a blast of his own, “DEMONIC WAVE!”
Bass watched as the powerful beam lifted the dirt and cratered the ground as it proceeded with its destination. Bass cocked his hand back and thrust another energy wave to rival the blast and so a deadlock formed. The nameks watching the battle had stepped aside and made distance between them and the fighters. The one if white fabrics and the other in purple were now in a power struggle. Although Bass’ energy wave didn’t have a name, it was just as strong as Cymbal’s Demonic Wave. After all, the power depends entirely on the person producing the attack.
The two yellow beams fluctuated from left to right, interchanging the lead on either battler. “There are buildings nearby; you’re going to destroy their homes!” Snare warned. The stern man had lost his temper and was furious at the two’s reckless behavior. But they were lost in the heat of battle, each craving to surpass the other and become the next head of the clan. Cymbal seemed to have heard their master’s cries and began to take flight by manipulating his chi. Bass hadn’t noticed, but he also took flight as a means to challenge his foe and prove himself superior. His method was purely of the mind, using his telekinetic abilities to bring himself into the air.
The two nameks rose to the skies and brought their beams with them. The other’s just watched from below, some even flew up with them to have a better view of the fight. “Give it up Bass.” Cymbal suggested. “You’ll never beat me.” The namek strengthened his blast pushing it further towards Bass’ side.
“We’ll just see about that!” Bass countered, increasing his own chi and manifesting it through his attack as it widened and forced the other back until they were evenly placed in the center. Cymbal was a darker tone of green compared Bass and his face was thinner with bone. He let a confident smirk at Bass, showing his sharp demon-like teeth. Bass sometimes wondered if the namek was of the demon caste by disguise, he wouldn’t have been surprised. The two yelled out and burst their power levels as if it were rehearsed, they voices intertwined as they echoed around the vast land; their respective aura flaring up and the energy waves buffing with power that seemed unlimited as they grew. Finally, the center of their beams, the orgasmic nucleus expanded and exploded in the air –momentarily blinding everyone and blowing away anyone who was flying too close; everyone except the two namekians who continued their onslaught in the air.
They looked more like a blur of white and purple floating around the air from side to side at every angle, while throwing every punch, knee, and kick without delay and effectively. It was another deadlock in disguise. It wasn’t one of energy, but combat skills. A cluster of attacks, blocks, and counters from head to toe; the two could only grin at each other both confident in their abilities and sure of their victories. But they couldn’t both win, no matter how big their ego was.
One final blast separated the two as their right fists connected in an electrical encounter. The force of their powers colliding sent transparent waves that shook whoever was near. It wasn’t that their power was so great; it was more about the similarity in their ability. The rivalry was almost flawless.
I guess I lost that initial spark since I didn't have time to finish it in one day. So I lost all my good ideas. ><" Anyway, I'd like PowerLevel and criticism, thanks. 
