12-20-2006, 02:26 PM
Sheer seconds slipped through in equality to grains within an hour glass. Time was not a factor in this situation, but hollow in its magnitude. The gloominess that once with-held its potency throughout the lair of the battlefield had bitterly clashed with the glimmering brilliance of the sunshine. With its rays of wonder, it presented only visibility of truth to the sights of the saiya-jin king. His comrade prolonged his lack of motion even under the circumstances of the deserting android. Only silence could be exchanged between the commanders while they absorbed the knowledge of the Outcast commander?s retreat. Vejita I?s arms slumped along his waist with his thumb wrestling into the pits of his hand to express this ferocious rage stirring in the inferno described as a soul. The hatred for these creatures was almost branching outwards into the limbs of his body; manipulating their every decision. His thoughts shared similarities with only the mutilated bodies of these warriors pulsing into his brain at a traumatizing rate.
His tongue glided delicately alongside his parched lips to explore the remnants of unknown blood upon his chin and only salivating in the fabrications of it belonging to Android-17. Withdrawing from a war could only be described as dishonorable, but honor was diminishing inside Vejita with every breath he achieved. He was being damned and cursed of all of his former morals the instance of butchering the Syntech commander, Zarbon, and the ?misery? of observing the flames of hell itself greeting his own son?s flesh. It was a remarkable adjustment that was seeping into his soul. Whether the dream the saiya-jin had encountered previously during his unconscious state was fact or fiction was irrelevant; these sensations was luring the saiya-jin into a realm of freedom. No longer would he be shackled by the imprisonment of ?morals? and ?justice?, or even the word that the majority of his race withheld - ?honor?. Those were all abolished to the saiya-jin king obviously, and only one word could properly describe it: glorious.
?Coward...? Broli?s lips were relinquished of their fastened state while a rumbling of amazing proportions diverted their concentration. This rumbling out-stretched throughout the region and they could only attempt to detect it?s origin. A roar of intense volume devastated the ongoing shrieks by the Dante and Outcasts soldiers while a thousand soldiers in unknown garments flowed at an impeccable formation into war zone. All who endeavored in deciphering the objective of these soldiers were overwhelmed with queries. Even Broli and Vejita I were engrossed in misconceptions provided by this unknown army, but they were fulfilled with reasoning when weapons wielded by these men could only be attracted to the flesh of the Outcast soldiers. All of their worries were disposed of in that instance and only an expression of pleasure could arise from King Vejita?s withered face. This wasn?t pleasure due from joy, but one consisting of eeriness. His eyes were decorated with a crimson glow that was magnified by the wonderful sunlight while the outer layers were highlighted with a dark tent that emphasized his unusual transformation.
The saiya-jin commander?s limbs were ejected above him and his fingers twitched involuntarily in an expression of his ?joy?. A sinister chuckle was the only elaboration to this unknown act with his teeth chattering from the sensations scrambling through him. His conscience had perished of its power entirely and had been replaced with a seething hatred that seemed to manufacture even further thoughts of evil. The feet of these soldiers, suggested to be United, battered the floor of the planet Dante with numbing effects to his laughter. Following his rhythmic cackles, he commenced to speech with his voice requiring assistance from the inner chambers of his lungs. ?CURSED BE THE ONES WHO DOUBT OUR STRENGTH! DANTE?S BLOOD FLOWS NOT, BUT INSTEAD THE OUTCASTS WILL ROT ON THE VERY LAND WHICH THEY PROTECT! RUN! RUN AS LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER!?
The intensity of his demonic self succeeding in overtaking the king was resulting in mass quantities of sweat beading from his scalp. It journeyed down his very cheek and the wrinkles of his face could only be classified as that of a demon. His morals, honor, and even reality itself had been cleansed from his now ?purified? soul. The king had reserved his place as a bringing of damnation to all those who challenged the might of Dante and to himself. The innocence he once held was no more.
His tongue glided delicately alongside his parched lips to explore the remnants of unknown blood upon his chin and only salivating in the fabrications of it belonging to Android-17. Withdrawing from a war could only be described as dishonorable, but honor was diminishing inside Vejita with every breath he achieved. He was being damned and cursed of all of his former morals the instance of butchering the Syntech commander, Zarbon, and the ?misery? of observing the flames of hell itself greeting his own son?s flesh. It was a remarkable adjustment that was seeping into his soul. Whether the dream the saiya-jin had encountered previously during his unconscious state was fact or fiction was irrelevant; these sensations was luring the saiya-jin into a realm of freedom. No longer would he be shackled by the imprisonment of ?morals? and ?justice?, or even the word that the majority of his race withheld - ?honor?. Those were all abolished to the saiya-jin king obviously, and only one word could properly describe it: glorious.
?Coward...? Broli?s lips were relinquished of their fastened state while a rumbling of amazing proportions diverted their concentration. This rumbling out-stretched throughout the region and they could only attempt to detect it?s origin. A roar of intense volume devastated the ongoing shrieks by the Dante and Outcasts soldiers while a thousand soldiers in unknown garments flowed at an impeccable formation into war zone. All who endeavored in deciphering the objective of these soldiers were overwhelmed with queries. Even Broli and Vejita I were engrossed in misconceptions provided by this unknown army, but they were fulfilled with reasoning when weapons wielded by these men could only be attracted to the flesh of the Outcast soldiers. All of their worries were disposed of in that instance and only an expression of pleasure could arise from King Vejita?s withered face. This wasn?t pleasure due from joy, but one consisting of eeriness. His eyes were decorated with a crimson glow that was magnified by the wonderful sunlight while the outer layers were highlighted with a dark tent that emphasized his unusual transformation.
The saiya-jin commander?s limbs were ejected above him and his fingers twitched involuntarily in an expression of his ?joy?. A sinister chuckle was the only elaboration to this unknown act with his teeth chattering from the sensations scrambling through him. His conscience had perished of its power entirely and had been replaced with a seething hatred that seemed to manufacture even further thoughts of evil. The feet of these soldiers, suggested to be United, battered the floor of the planet Dante with numbing effects to his laughter. Following his rhythmic cackles, he commenced to speech with his voice requiring assistance from the inner chambers of his lungs. ?CURSED BE THE ONES WHO DOUBT OUR STRENGTH! DANTE?S BLOOD FLOWS NOT, BUT INSTEAD THE OUTCASTS WILL ROT ON THE VERY LAND WHICH THEY PROTECT! RUN! RUN AS LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER!?
The intensity of his demonic self succeeding in overtaking the king was resulting in mass quantities of sweat beading from his scalp. It journeyed down his very cheek and the wrinkles of his face could only be classified as that of a demon. His morals, honor, and even reality itself had been cleansed from his now ?purified? soul. The king had reserved his place as a bringing of damnation to all those who challenged the might of Dante and to himself. The innocence he once held was no more.