Are you going to return to your db blogs eventually?
This was kind of the thing I was dreading. In long story short? I don't think I will be returning to my DB blogs besides one (will not specify which) because of a certain harasser, and overall, in the time I've been on my multimuse, the people I've met through HSR, a large majority have been far more kind than those I met in the DB side of Tumblr. Not that there weren't good friends I made over there, but as it stands, I think I might just drag them over to my multi.
Oh he sees the sign. Certainly he does. However he seems to be preoccupied with his own home cooked meal. He just used the microwave to heat it up. Thanks.
@fxsiondance [vegito] // continued from; loosing credit by the second đź’€
There isn't much that he could do or say to change the current situation. Vegito was a guest, who was permitted to stay in and around the Society, on a temporary basis, along with the other Fusion. But, what had been intended to be a simple act of hospitality had seen his deposits of credit take a substantial hit, burned through at a rapid clip as he played catch-up with the male's voracious appetite.
"Somewhere between those topics, I think." Right around the same time as Miguel realised... something needed to change, before the sum total of his wealth -- and Alchemax's profits -- were spent solely on procuring more food. Pinching the bridge of his noise for a moment, he exhaled a frustrated sigh before firmly grasping a stray thought, sharing it aloud.
"But since you don't seen to express a preference, can I persuade you to eat something from other sources?" It didn't take much for the Spider to guess that the other had anticipated hearing such a story. Hence, as a mark of respect, as well as avoiding wasting either of their time, he kept rambling on. "There's bound to be alternatives available. I can help track down some options for you if you wish."
It's a muttered comment under the ungodly being's breath. Truly, sure, he wasn't much of an anomaly considering he somehow fit into his fucked up reality, the damn multiverse was the confusing shit. Especially given that he wasn't the type to cling to a filter, it was only the edges of his moral and mortality that he hadn't personally caused a few spiders to probably end up in more therapy than whatever the fuck they were getting. Yet even still, as the other expresses his frustration into a single sigh that said more than the words coming out of Miguel's mouth, ebony black tail flicking to the side, if only because the fur had been burnt too damn much over time, that now it might as well be coated like charcoal. Yet still, slowly ending up floating as he lets his arms cross over his chest, tilting just slightly to give the other the notion he was still listening. Just trying to think.
"I could. I've done so before. But that depends entirely on what other sources there are." Another flick of his tail as he sighs into a gloved hand, grumbling under his breath. "Saiyans burn through a lot of calories, I burn through twice that usually, which fuckin sucks. I've managed to fine-tune myself a little to where I can at least go a few days without eating before I go ballistic. Unlike others." The edge of his shoe taps against the ground before he hums. "If there was a way to pack a lot of calories into somethin', it would work. But I'm sure as shit not gourgin' myself on stuff that's gonna fuck up my body more than it already is."
"Cuz m' a whole nother animal when the starve kicks in."
“I consider myself a fairly intelligent guy, but I’m not following you here.”
"Shit. Where'd a loose ya."
The words tumble from his lips without any true fanfare, a genuine hiccup in his all but mindless rambling, on and on, like the chatterbox he could be, found himself being far more in the other's presence. Hell be damned he thought it froze over because the guy didn't ask him to shut up about halfway through and seemed actually interested. That's what he gets for beginning to ramble about the fact that the other was curious about his eating habits, more so the fact he'd been trying to avoid draining this poor shmuck's wallet least of all. The last thing the spider needed was to be using the cash for his hunger of all things, as fucked as it was. He'd been certain to omit certain things, about how dangerous a starving saiyan could be. He did not need the man making contingency plans for his ass in that category.
"Was it when I was explaining how we can basically eat anythin' or bout the jaws?"
@fxsiondance [vegito] // continued from: sleep wins! đź’¤
When it came time for Miguel to locate a specific individual, it was usually for a singular purpose. That being, to pluck them out of their current reality, with the intentions of returning them to the reality in which they had originated from. Of course, this didn't always correlate with what a person referred to as home, but where the Society's leader was concerned, this carried little concern.
For he had a job to do, and he intended to fulfil it, no matter what.
Even so, he wasn't always successful, particularly in the case of matters involving the Fusion he'd been tracking. Reliant on his own tech to do so, rather than attempt to identify their unique ki signature, his search had brought him to a forested area, dense with enough foliage to obstruct the view from above.
After trekking for about an hour, he finds the male's prone form, but stays at a measured distance, trying not to disturb his rest as host of questions circulated around his head. Chief amongst them being what kind of emergency had drawn him to such a remote location? It was tempting to guess, an opportunity made possible given what he had learned about Vegito's history so far, but he preferred instead to hear it from the man himself.
And so, with this decision made, the Spider finds the nearest tree and takes a seat, pressing his back against its trunk as he commenced waiting for the Fusion to eventually stir.
Each breathe is a rattling inhale, his body had caught up on at least a few hours of sleep before the arrival of the arachnid hero. Sprawled along the ground with faint grooves left in the soil, it had not been the most gentle of contact with the ground but it was more than enough to lull him into sleep. That fades quickly as he begins to rouse, not because of the other's arrival but because his ki lances to life, sparking across blades of grass and quickly traveling past the treeline. The fog in his mind is replaced with immediate alertness as the device strapped to his wrist flashes a bright red. An audible growl slips past his lips as he momentarily struggles to push himself upright, rolling onto his back before kick flipping up to his feet. No sooner does he accomplish that does the first one appear. The damn scouts that hounded his trail and refused to let up. He's exhausted. He wants nothing more than to loose their trail already and frankly with the low rumble in his stomach besides the one in his throat.
He nearly salivates at the scent of blood. His gloved fist strikes across rugged stitched flesh and he watches as the bones fracture beneath his powerful strike. As long vicious claws snag at his arm and leave behind bloody lines of deep cuts. The adrenaline dulls the agony that would flare from torn into muscles but the pain would render much more soon enough as he launches into action. Tail appearing from beneath his sash and wrapping around it's neck, drawing it right back into his grasp before his jaws snap open and he plunges forward with his lengthened fangs. They rip into flesh as the demon shrieks in protest, clawing at him in a frenzy as he rips through sinew and flesh, until he meets the marrow and tugs. The cracking of bones as the demon shrieks in its death wail, near deafening to his heightened senses. He doesn't care as he rips the entirety of it's throat out with his fangs, pushing it back and watching as it crumbles to the ground, flailing and gurgling in it's final moments.
Vibrant blue overtakes his features, it had from the start begun bleeding in through highlights in his hair and his eyes. Blood stains his mouth and his gloves as he watches in minor fascination at the scout's pitiful gasps for life, to watch it fade from eyes that reflected the abyss that tended to always stare back. He almost doesn't even realize the second one sneaking up behind him trying to succeed in the endeavor the other failed. Keyword being almost. He turns on an angle, ducking just beneath long claws and the crackle of electricity from his arm as the scorching hot bright ki sword appears, blue melting into it's acidic orange and yellow hues as he drives it right through their skull and slices them in half effortlessly. Beads of sweat rolling down his figure as he grasps onto a single arm and rips it from their twitching body.
He almost doesn't think as fangs snap down on the edges of fingers, ripping through marrow and flesh with a sickening crunch as he devours the entire hand to quell the rumble in his stomach, to soothe the whispers that beg for him to indulge more in the carnal instincts. Starvation wasn't pretty. It could lead to stupid things and with that, smearing the blood across his face, he sets forth to find a body of water to wash up.
"Stupid fuckin-" A string of curses spewing from his lips before he realizes something. A very faint ki signature and it's familiar. His head snaps in the direction of it, red dulling within vivid azure hues before he manages a humorless chuckle. Except his facial expression portrays all the agitation, exhaustion and frankly if he wasn't radiating anymore of a blatant 'fuck around and find out' aura he's sure the other might have drawn closer to the little squabble.
"Whatchu need? I'm not stayin' here if that's what 'ur worried bout."
Reminders held the potential to take the crudest forms, striking when guards were lowered and the anticipation of facing an enormous threat was at an all-time low. It seemed inconceivable to go from discussing the intricacies of how in his world, tangible items could be constructed of pure light, to confronting a city-levelling threat. Even for someone with his history of coming across credible thoughts!
And yet, defying all belief, what had begun as idle talk turned rapidly into action, Spider following after Fusion to confront the incursion reaching across realms, breaching the thin skin of this reality's fabric as the Goliath touches down. Such a landing sends shockwaves radiating throughout the city, form massive as it soars amongst cloud-breaching skyscrapers, spreading chaos with each advancing thunderous step. On all levels, it paints a grim picture, visuals alone eliminating the need for Miguel to turn to his comrade and ask for details.
Yet still, the body cedes to habit, form turning to observe Vegito in profile as Scouts begun to flood the area around the Goliath, overwhelming the rattled Public Eye forces that scrambled to respond. This force, terrible, effective, will be met with claw and eventually, but for the current, dire time, garnet hues stayed fixed to a wavering stock of black hair, the rich stench of iron, extracted from the source, crawling up his nose, registering at roughly the same time as his companion detects.
With vastly different results!
"Vegito? Can you hear me?" Shoulders and head lean closer, form more slouch than comprised of a proper posture as he studies the other in closer detail, finding a number of concerning signs in the process. Between the trembling knees, and an unusually grounded stance, he's got sufficient grounds to press again for response, for feedback of any sort beside an unhelpful quiet. As if responding to this feeling, black is soon replaced by a vibrant blue as a strong gust of energy harnessed pushes the futuristic wallcrawler back, blocking his view as the Saiyan warrior finally engages the Goliath and its accomplices, leading Miguel to follow suit.
In turn, talons score demonic flesh, knuckles connect with jaws, eyes, wings, anything that could reduce the danger bearing down upon vulnerable citizens. Before long, what started with a Spider becomes plural, as his fellow variants begin to stream out of the Society tower and pitch in to help, a force tantamount to an army, that knew to primarily focus on protecting bystanders, and extracting the vulnerable from harm. Yet he does not spare a single moment to take pride in the effectiveness of this strike force, for as his fellow spiders tend to citizens, Miguel himself is emersed in the heart of matters, confronting scout after scout whilst staying relatively close to Vegito, sending a glance his way when the chance arises.
What could be so terrifying as to effectively render such a potent warrior inert? He almost hesitated to ask when trouble up front draws him back into the fray. The scouts have learnt to adapt, preying upon Spider alike, rather than the people taken into their care. This shift, Miguel notices fairly quickly, seen best when he parts from a struggling Vegito to check on his fellow variants, especially those wounded or harmed by the scouts, weaving, diving, swinging as need be. Best of intentions that direct Miguel straight into the clutches of the Goliath itself, talons breaching only the shallowest of depths as he is snatched up.
Immovable as rock , he squirms and writhes, seeking leverage to loosen the hold that threatens to crush his chest, compress his spine. The odds don't appear to be in the Society's leader's favour until. A boom rings out, and silence falls, breached only by the trickle of a liquid, seeping from a head that no longer exists. In turn, eyes widen at this twist, mind parsing the details when the rest of the Goliath's body meets a similar fate, obliterated in an instant by the Fusion's godly power, turned loose. Catching air, when a gloved palm reaches for him, talons slice into it, gaining a tighter grip as beneath his mask, his visage contorts with regret. That'll leave a mark, his conscience supplies, but before an apology can be formed, he's catching air again. Tossed towards safety, shelter, his body adjusts without needing to think, talons digging into the bridges side as he dangles comfortably in place, looking out for signs of Vegito following afterwards.
When he does catch up, a flex of arm sees Miguel join the distressed warrior on the bridge itself, maintaining the same length of distance as shown before the Goliath's arrival. Here, he sees the same traits exhibited, amounting to what he's seen displayed by young Spiders crumbling under pressure. Panic.
"Breathe, Vegito." Instead of obeying instruction, a scarlet palm lands on a quivering shoulder, posture rock solid in contrast to the warrior's own stricken form. "We'll get to it-- HEY!" But before he can finish sharing his assurance, Vegito soars to a elevation that Miguel himself would struggle to achieve without a building of comparable height to use. Shocking fliers!
With no choice left except to follow, the casting of a new webline hauls Miguel back into the air, intent on sticking near Vegito as he set to work closing the breach, whilst he hunted down the remaining Scouts, in a messy, violent manner, that spared no room for mercy.
He descends in a brazen azure fury, energy blasts sent from his gloved hands ensure the turning of the tides with the scouts but his target remains on the wormhole in sight, aquamarine gaze sharpens but something catches his attention before he can get to it. A web shoots past his face, latching onto the building with impeccable aim but the lack of a spider appearing behind it has him gazing down to where one struggles to get the leverage to swing with the scout digging claws into their heel. Remedying this by abruptly yanking the thin yet strong line, just as the spider flies past him he brings forth the brilliant gleaming golden sword of light. Slicing the scouts arm off and freeing the spider before he continues on his task.
Except he freezes in place, the massive maw ripping through the wormhole with a loud guttural bellow. Two rows of jaws visible within the depths of it's first mouth as the forked tongue lashes, squirming out of the wormhole before breaching through to this reality, cracks forming in the wormhole's structure with its arrival. He can barely hear anything besides the roar of his own heartbeat as with a burst of speed the potaran flies forward, rushing towards the wormhole as the massive beast frees itself from it, invading the air of this world and defying gravity by gliding through it. Before it's stomach begins to open like giant metal doors, large entities drop from it like they're just being hatched into this world. Warriors. The grunt force of the invasive force. The sentinel roaring before crashing right through a building, scattering debris everywhere and with it it's cargo as well. More enemies to deal with.
Slicing the wormhole in half, the corrosive energy lashes right back, scarlet black lightning lashing onto the blade as he struggles to keep it, pushing his arm down into the depths of the wormhole with an enraged yell. He can feel it scathing at his arm, cloth ripping as the first crack rings out before he rips his hand free, the energy is destabilizing quickly and frankly he has no other choice but to shut it with his own bare hands. Gripping onto the fine threads of energy before slowly with minor progress the wormhole begins to close, slowly. The sheer strength needed for the effort is already causing beads of sweat to roll down the side of his face. Except it goes wrong- the energy abruptly floods into his body and there's an explosion.
He's falling out of the sky, gloved hand digging into the side of concrete amongst a building as glass shatters as the shock wave carries him further, until his gloved hands digs into the street below as his heels dig in, finally bringing himself to a stop as he grinds his teeth together, the dark ki crackles over his body, drawing hissed noises from him that he'd sooner hide than let be heard. A shaky exhale before he catches his breathe, but his stomach twists, his heart still hammers in his chest. Fight's not over. Keep going.
End it.
It's growing harder to ignore the thoughts that begin to run through his mind. Absorbing the potent energy of the wormhole had not been what he wanted to do but perhaps whatever that fucker had done to him made him more susceptible to it. A shake of his head before he rockets from the earth's soil to the sky again, a quick survey of the land before he heads right back into the heart of battle. Where he was born. Where his purpose lies. Quick to provide air support to the mass of spiders struggling with the demonic adversaries. He swoops into combat, dropping down and landing devastating kicks with powerful limbs, giving them the upper hand.
His hand aches from where Miguel's talons had dug in, still freshly bleeding but he pays it no heed as he joins the aforementioned right into combat. All but tackling the warrior that had been rushing towards him and slamming its head repeatedly into the pavement until blood and bone splatter everywhere and it finally stills. Yet the scent of blood, the way flesh rips under his grasp so easily. His stomach protests at leaving the job unfinished, the memories flash so easily in his mind.
Then like light crawling back into his vision, he notes Miguel talking to him. Gaze snapping to the other as bright blue hues have a noticeable more tint of ruby red to them. Gazing intently at the other before his senses slowly dull, the adrenaline quells enough that he can hear the chaos around them. Gaze slowly tilting to where he can see the Sentinel soar overhead, flames flickering around its body.
"Wormhole's closed. That will keep them from appearing for a time again. But that Sentinel needs to go or more Warrior's will continue to infest the streets like common rats."
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