Area C: Day Seven

[Reijin]

Area C is controlled by Burter and Android 18

Day Seven will end on Sunday, February 27th.

[Bardock]

All around him, the maddened throng of onlookers clamored raucously, wallowing in their sick, twisted lust for the revelation of blood and death. They craved bestiality as if it were some sort of sadistic aphrodisia. Bardock had given it to them. He too had indulged in his insatiable desires for carnal bloodshed, but at what price? A Saiyan took pleasure in such exploits, why then, why did he harbor no relish in the deed he had just committed? No. The old fighter knew why.

The power of recollection returned to him, and Bardock was once again aware of his surroundings. He was down on one knee, and rightfully so. Blood was spattered all over his body, dribbling down in a macabre syrupy sickness. It was his?his and hers. Every muscle in his body cried out in agony of fatigue, begging for emancipation from the pain. Ki that had once flowed abundantly in his veins was now horribly impoverished, the reservoir from which it welled severely depleted. Twin lungs burned feverishly from within, the adjacent heart pumping at an exponential rate to maintain adequate flux of the life fluid that still?barely?sustained him. Both tribulations caused Bardock?s chest to heave in ragged, rapid motions, exasperating each breath he drew. His eyes, temporarily closed, opened again to take into full realization the sight before him. Her body lay unmoving on the ground, saturated in a pool of coagulated crimson gore. Black pupils stared fixedly, refusing to look away. He did that. He didn?t want to, but she would have it no other way.

Winner by ultimatum.

Bardock forced himself to stand, letting slip a wince. A ripple of searing discomfort suffused his flesh. Even the most basic of motor functions required every ounce of his remaining willpower. One arm hung limply at his side, the fingers stiff with affliction. The opposite limb trembled, a consequence of forcing through it the raw shallows of his sapped power. His feet scuffling through the dust and grit of the ring, Bardock dragged his sorry carcass towards his granddaughter. Before he reached her, he could feel a familiar pull. A dank odor pervaded his sensitive olfactory bulb. Worn boots sank softly into swampy marsh. The black-haired Saiya-jin let his head drop against his chest, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. Empathy was not bequeathed to the heartless. A clenched jaw was raised. He was back in Area C near the northern bunker, where he was determined he would die by Android 18?s hand. No one else stood there now. In the fashion of a mindless zombie, Bardock shuffled into the building, his brain functioning now only on the most basic instincts. Although not an uncommon state for him, no sentient thoughts ran through his consciousness. Fatigued in both body and mind, the warrior stood before an empty cot. With incomparable effort, he raised his seized arm and pulled the bandana loose from his forehead. Not much more than a ragged piece of cloth, the headband was stained with the blood of his fallen comrades. Mindlessly, Bardock wiped the red liquid from his exposed skin, mixing his own with the lifeless Pan?s. Upon the sponging of the last few drops, he let his arm sag back to the side, fist clenching the symbolic textile. Then he just let go?of everything. His bone-wearied frame collapsed onto the comforting cotton, the red-hued fabric clutched between his fingers.


OOC: Back in Area C, entered the northern bunker.