05-25-2006, 07:58 PM
And suddenly, the tournament began. All 44 fighters were teleported to random squares, to their dismay of being separated with their allies...
"Yaj?" Was what Piccolo Daimoun screamed, looking around for his friend, "Yajirobe!..." He stopped, glancing around, trying to use KI sense, "Where are you...?"
His Ki sense wasn't working, and he had no clue why. It was muddled up, and reminded him of the battle against Kooriza...The great battle that seemed so long ago.
The image stuck in his head was a dead Kirano, mangled and blood covered. His breathing becoming rapid as he thought about it, he also began to take an image of a mangled Gokua, from his dream so long ago...
But a new one occurred, which was very strange to the jade Namekian. He stood in a strange looking abode, one that was made of straw. A pile of bloody Namekians lay at his feet, and he knew he was the one that had caused their demise. Starring at them, enthralled by them, he looked as he saw Charango walk in the room, screaming an enraged and inaudible war cry as he dashed at him...
But he was back...The change in surroundings smacked him hard like a ton of bricks. Back to the tournament, he realized he was on the dirt, being cushioned by a strange duffle bag that lay underneath him...
Looking into the bag quickly, he found some a few provisions that would help him along in the tournament. Food, water, and a few devices he wasn't too sure on how to use...
"Alright, better get moving!" Piccolo Daimoun yelled, turning in a random direction. Taking a quick running start, he leaped off the ground to fly superman style. What happened, to his great dismay, was a short second of flying, followed by a beep of his collar that brought him harshly back to earth like he was wearing concrete.
"Shit..." He whispered, coughing and spluttering as he spit out the dirt and rocks that had become lodged in his mouth. His body had become cut up as well, from the friction burns that had occurred from moving along the ground.
"Don't wanna start off with a wound," He groaned as he gingerly stood up, and tried to regenerate his wounds. What occurred was another high pitched beep from the electronic collar, sending shivers and a painful electric shock down his spine.
"Damn it!" He yelled angrily, trying to catch his bearings as he realized that his damn neck devices was inhibiting all his greatest abilities. Cursing under his breath once more, he turned and began to walk.
Walking... He thought to himself. In his mind, walking was for losers who couldn't fly.
"Yaj?" Was what Piccolo Daimoun screamed, looking around for his friend, "Yajirobe!..." He stopped, glancing around, trying to use KI sense, "Where are you...?"
His Ki sense wasn't working, and he had no clue why. It was muddled up, and reminded him of the battle against Kooriza...The great battle that seemed so long ago.
The image stuck in his head was a dead Kirano, mangled and blood covered. His breathing becoming rapid as he thought about it, he also began to take an image of a mangled Gokua, from his dream so long ago...
But a new one occurred, which was very strange to the jade Namekian. He stood in a strange looking abode, one that was made of straw. A pile of bloody Namekians lay at his feet, and he knew he was the one that had caused their demise. Starring at them, enthralled by them, he looked as he saw Charango walk in the room, screaming an enraged and inaudible war cry as he dashed at him...
But he was back...The change in surroundings smacked him hard like a ton of bricks. Back to the tournament, he realized he was on the dirt, being cushioned by a strange duffle bag that lay underneath him...
Looking into the bag quickly, he found some a few provisions that would help him along in the tournament. Food, water, and a few devices he wasn't too sure on how to use...
"Alright, better get moving!" Piccolo Daimoun yelled, turning in a random direction. Taking a quick running start, he leaped off the ground to fly superman style. What happened, to his great dismay, was a short second of flying, followed by a beep of his collar that brought him harshly back to earth like he was wearing concrete.
"Shit..." He whispered, coughing and spluttering as he spit out the dirt and rocks that had become lodged in his mouth. His body had become cut up as well, from the friction burns that had occurred from moving along the ground.
"Don't wanna start off with a wound," He groaned as he gingerly stood up, and tried to regenerate his wounds. What occurred was another high pitched beep from the electronic collar, sending shivers and a painful electric shock down his spine.
"Damn it!" He yelled angrily, trying to catch his bearings as he realized that his damn neck devices was inhibiting all his greatest abilities. Cursing under his breath once more, he turned and began to walk.
Walking... He thought to himself. In his mind, walking was for losers who couldn't fly.