06-06-2006, 08:46 PM
Krillin was not entirely pleased with the idea of allying with people who they would be turning against in no time at all, but then, there were many things about this Tournament he was not pleased about. At the very least, the two Buus and the silent woman might make things a little more interesting.
At the same time, however, they made it all devastating. Before, he had only had to scan Twenty's face from time to time, and decipher his thoughts and such. Now, he was confronted with four entirely unique persons, and nowhere near enough time to learn everything he wanted to about them. But, what did it truly matter? In six hours, nothing would be standing, except for one.
What would it be like, standing the victor over a plain of others who died? Would they jump and scream for joy? Would they be overwhelmed by those who fell, that they would win? Krillin decided not to think about it. The end result hardly mattered. The most important thing to do was reduce the amount of pain/shock/whatever he might be hit with to the greatest extent possible. And, to do that, he tried to fool himself into being entertained with a conversation. Under other circumstances, he likely would have warmed up to the Super Buu (as he was called) and his odd demeanor. Here, however, he could not take the leave to enjoy it. Try as he may, his thoughts were too atuned to the upcoming atrocities.
Krillin had already forgotten how wonderful life was. Instead, he simply assumed that, and elected to defend it as tenaciously as possible. Yet, he could not help but feel as thought some unseen force was deciding the outcomes of the battles, as if authoring each of the warrior's fate. The thought was silly, obviously, yet it was impressed upon him nonetheless.
Vigorous times gave rise to weird notions like that.
At the same time, however, they made it all devastating. Before, he had only had to scan Twenty's face from time to time, and decipher his thoughts and such. Now, he was confronted with four entirely unique persons, and nowhere near enough time to learn everything he wanted to about them. But, what did it truly matter? In six hours, nothing would be standing, except for one.
What would it be like, standing the victor over a plain of others who died? Would they jump and scream for joy? Would they be overwhelmed by those who fell, that they would win? Krillin decided not to think about it. The end result hardly mattered. The most important thing to do was reduce the amount of pain/shock/whatever he might be hit with to the greatest extent possible. And, to do that, he tried to fool himself into being entertained with a conversation. Under other circumstances, he likely would have warmed up to the Super Buu (as he was called) and his odd demeanor. Here, however, he could not take the leave to enjoy it. Try as he may, his thoughts were too atuned to the upcoming atrocities.
Krillin had already forgotten how wonderful life was. Instead, he simply assumed that, and elected to defend it as tenaciously as possible. Yet, he could not help but feel as thought some unseen force was deciding the outcomes of the battles, as if authoring each of the warrior's fate. The thought was silly, obviously, yet it was impressed upon him nonetheless.
Vigorous times gave rise to weird notions like that.
![[Image: heydudezew6.png]](http://img139.imageshack.us/img139/7540/heydudezew6.png)