11-03-2009, 11:56 AM
Skin melting molten rock bubbled before them in a great blazing sea. Slithering lines of steam coiled upwards and over the elongated platforms of rock that balanced precariously on spindly columns. The ominous, shadowed spires in the distance were further out of reach now. Even the pulsing swathe of orange-red that rolled over the two saiyans couldn't stretch to the far horizon.
Obstacles were great and all. They helped gauge Orion's strength, test his mental sharpness, etcetera, etcetera. But, as he stared out into the fiery sludge, he realised at that moment that all he wanted to do was hit something.
The intense and unfamiliar training exercises supplied by Anitan involved speed, quick movements and absolutely no fighting. The closest they had gotten was the dodging regiment but the monotony of evading punches without throwing them eventually frustrated him so much that he knocked out the spindly agility disciple. That was the last time he hit something. And did it feel good.
Fantasising about the past only fueled the desire to battle. His only option was Ares, but to fight before an oozing avalanche of lava wasn't a intelligent choice. Ares was sizing up the best possible route over the proverbial stepping stones, oblivious to the elder warrior's musings.
Orion went to open his mouth and at least declare his urge for a spar, but a sudden gust of wind slammed over them, nearly causing them both to lose their footing. They spun hurriedly into the horizon from whence they came, expecting to see something ... else. Anything else. But wishing never made anything better.
Anitan stood before them, the progenitor of the wind buffet. The arrogant grin on his face was strange considering they were no longer under his tutelage. In his index and middle fingers, he pinched an envelope. Bringing it to the duo's attention, he rocked it back and forth in front of his face.
"Hey guys!" he greeted chirpily, the hundred mile run not affecting him in the slightest. "Have I got some news for you!"
"Do you?" Orion acknowledged disinterestedly, clearing his throat. "I'm not sure there's anything more you can give us, now that we have the badge."
Anitan couldn't contain himself. He snorted through his nose, attempting to reign in his amusement. "Oh, I think you'll want to see this!" he declared, flapping the envelope in Orion's face obnoxiously.
The bemused elite snatched the enigmatic message from the thunder god and tore its container open with a pull of his finger. Blowing into the envelope, he plucked the embossed note from within and read it to himself. Anitan smiled eagerly as he awaited Orion's response.
"What is it?" Ares inquired. Orion passed the invitation to his kin, staring the platinum haired deity down.
"You expect me to believe this?"
Anitan dropped a small microchip into Orion's hand. "Absolutely. If you want to go, then go! I'll be watching excitedly! To think, my brand new graduating pupil in an intergalactic tournament! Then everyone will know how awesome I am!"
Dante's Abyss. The name sounded familiar to the seasoned nomad, but until he read the invitation for himself and Ares, he didn't know what it entailed. Of course, there was no way he was going to refuse. If Anitan wasn't baiting him to return to the temple, then this was the perfect way to satiate his instinctual need for combat.
Plus, there were no risks. The note mentioned a special one day pardon by King Yemma to return to the living plane so the potential contestants could participate. If he won the death match, he gained fame and recognition, while returning to the afterlife to continue his training. If he lost, or was murdered, he'd return to the afterlife to continue his training. Few times in his life a situation was win-win.
Without waiting for Ares to announce his decision, Orion declared his.
"I'm in," he confirmed as calmly as he could with the circulating adrenaline in his bloodstream.
Anitan bared his teeth. "Excellent! Don't let me down now!" The spiky haired sensei clapped his hands twice, and in a cone of light that descended from the blackened sky, Orion was gone.
Obstacles were great and all. They helped gauge Orion's strength, test his mental sharpness, etcetera, etcetera. But, as he stared out into the fiery sludge, he realised at that moment that all he wanted to do was hit something.
The intense and unfamiliar training exercises supplied by Anitan involved speed, quick movements and absolutely no fighting. The closest they had gotten was the dodging regiment but the monotony of evading punches without throwing them eventually frustrated him so much that he knocked out the spindly agility disciple. That was the last time he hit something. And did it feel good.
Fantasising about the past only fueled the desire to battle. His only option was Ares, but to fight before an oozing avalanche of lava wasn't a intelligent choice. Ares was sizing up the best possible route over the proverbial stepping stones, oblivious to the elder warrior's musings.
Orion went to open his mouth and at least declare his urge for a spar, but a sudden gust of wind slammed over them, nearly causing them both to lose their footing. They spun hurriedly into the horizon from whence they came, expecting to see something ... else. Anything else. But wishing never made anything better.
Anitan stood before them, the progenitor of the wind buffet. The arrogant grin on his face was strange considering they were no longer under his tutelage. In his index and middle fingers, he pinched an envelope. Bringing it to the duo's attention, he rocked it back and forth in front of his face.
"Hey guys!" he greeted chirpily, the hundred mile run not affecting him in the slightest. "Have I got some news for you!"
"Do you?" Orion acknowledged disinterestedly, clearing his throat. "I'm not sure there's anything more you can give us, now that we have the badge."
Anitan couldn't contain himself. He snorted through his nose, attempting to reign in his amusement. "Oh, I think you'll want to see this!" he declared, flapping the envelope in Orion's face obnoxiously.
The bemused elite snatched the enigmatic message from the thunder god and tore its container open with a pull of his finger. Blowing into the envelope, he plucked the embossed note from within and read it to himself. Anitan smiled eagerly as he awaited Orion's response.
"What is it?" Ares inquired. Orion passed the invitation to his kin, staring the platinum haired deity down.
"You expect me to believe this?"
Anitan dropped a small microchip into Orion's hand. "Absolutely. If you want to go, then go! I'll be watching excitedly! To think, my brand new graduating pupil in an intergalactic tournament! Then everyone will know how awesome I am!"
Dante's Abyss. The name sounded familiar to the seasoned nomad, but until he read the invitation for himself and Ares, he didn't know what it entailed. Of course, there was no way he was going to refuse. If Anitan wasn't baiting him to return to the temple, then this was the perfect way to satiate his instinctual need for combat.
Plus, there were no risks. The note mentioned a special one day pardon by King Yemma to return to the living plane so the potential contestants could participate. If he won the death match, he gained fame and recognition, while returning to the afterlife to continue his training. If he lost, or was murdered, he'd return to the afterlife to continue his training. Few times in his life a situation was win-win.
Without waiting for Ares to announce his decision, Orion declared his.
"I'm in," he confirmed as calmly as he could with the circulating adrenaline in his bloodstream.
Anitan bared his teeth. "Excellent! Don't let me down now!" The spiky haired sensei clapped his hands twice, and in a cone of light that descended from the blackened sky, Orion was gone.
![[Image: OrionAug11.jpg]](http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b187/captain_civic/OrionAug11.jpg)