Post by Metal Sickle on May 5, 2019 4:50:57 GMT
"Sickle wants to adorn his bone throne with your torso!"
| Sickle had been sitting in the midst of one of those moments where everything seemed off to him. His entire mind and body were sound, everything around him seemed to be fine and dandy, and yet before him stood this oddly shaped Namekian. The green skinned alien creature on his knee, face down, offering a written letter to the massive Frost Demon before him. "What is this for, Namekian?" Sickle would ask firmly, his hand gripping the chair he sat in, hard enough to splinter the wood. "What is the point of this letter. I need not care for your praises or offerings, weakling." "Sir, it is not an offering or praise. I am instructed to hand over to you this letter requesting your presence in front of the Cavern Prince Lord Soleo. He has taken a liking to the stories of you in the underground and you are to appear before him immediately as soon as you can." The scared Namekian would state, revealing his appearance as an emissary from this 'Cavern Prince Lord Soleo' guy. As much as Sickle liked the idea of making money working for someone, he held more to his personal ideals than this gibberish. He was just on the verge of denying the invitation before a Ki blast echoed throughout the bar. The window shattered from a distance, a purple colored Ki blast striking the message bearer in the back and killing him instantly with the blow. His carcass would drop to the floor with a sickening thud, unmistakeable as the death thud. His slug-like body committing to a death curl before passing on fully, his young appearance giving more creedance to his innocence, despite his evil ways and origins. Sickle found his death a sickening and evil fate for someone with little on them, and when he turned his head to the doorway of the small bar, he watched as two Warrior Clan Namekian warriors would pridefully make their way into the building, arriving at the feet of the giant and seeing the corpse they left behind in their wake. One made a deal of stomping on the back of the body, as if to verify the demise of their target, before turning to Sickle with a face that spoke of demands and rights. It was a face Sickle had grown to hate. It was the face of those who had way too much time on their hands and felt like they had the law in their pocket. The face of a wannabe warrior, someone who could clearly not figure out exactly who he was stepping to. "Citizen, state your purpose for speaking to the Demon Clansmen." He would demand with a hateful tone, arms reaching forward slightly, as if ready to start blasting if he needed to. "Tell me, NOW." Sickle would stop himself at his chair, the custom made seat the barkeep made for him so he could sit in the establishment and enjoy his wines, taking a light and graceful drink from his rosemary wine, seemingly harmless, letting the Namekian to let down his guard, before a quick flash would sudden appear before the Warrior Clan fighter. It was an instant movement, speeds unnaturally fast, and without knowing, Sickle was now holding both of the arms of the demanding warrior clan member in one hand and the Namekian's throat in the other, lifting his armless body up in the air and crushing his windpipe, suffocating the green-skinned asshole with a single crush. Following up on his attack, he would use his tail to swipe with a crack in the air, slashing the dominant hand off of the other warrior clan member, before grabbing his entire head in his palm, squeezing enough to cause pain, but not kill. The Namekian began to beg for forgiveness and to live the rest of his life. Sickle merely chuckled. "You ruined my day, my new weapon, and even my mood. You murder the man inviting me to see his boss, and you then demand me to speak to you like some sort of lowly peasant, and through all of this you STILL want me to let you live?" He would say, crushing harder on the head, watching purple blood exit the ears and eyes of the poor green warrior, clearly new to war and combat. Once he stopped getting answers from his little toy, he would throw the barely living body out of the shattered window, which would land hard on the ground outside. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have something to read." Sickle would read the note still in the hands of the dead Demon Clan Namekian, gliding his eyes across the parchment to find the basics of the writing. Inside of this particular temple was once a Dragon Ball. Retrieve it and bring the ones you have to me, so I may reward you. Well, whatever these Namekian bosses were offering, he did not want. However, he did happen to enjoy screwing with weakling shills, and knew that if he could manage to get another ball for himself and then squeeze any more from the this Lord Slush, he could definitely manage to get every ball he needed after this. Standing up and dragging the corpses out of the bar, he would toss the remains on a pile on top of the living crippled Namekian, letting him die there on the grass unless someone saved him, before flying up and looking at his radar, comparing the notes on the parchment to his radar. Sure enough, supposedly a Dragon Ball was nearby... He would need to get it as soon as possible, and with a quick hiding of his radar inside of his armor, he would disappear into the distance, making his way to yet another dragon ball for his collection. He would not fail at getting his wish, that was for sure, and with everything happening around him and Namorel's involvement in this plan of his, he would definitely find it difficult to do it all alone. He has come so far, and will get to the end, even if it means the death of himself and everyone he knows. This must happen... He MUST get his wish. [ENDING THREAD] [CHANGELING BONUS] [LIGHT WEIGHTS BONUS] [ATTEMPTING TO GET A DB] |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS
