Their comments do not go unanswered, instead he begins his leisurely pace of walking towards them, idly kicking a few white segments away that rattle, bones of some kind underneath the rubble as he sighs, instead he gazes at the ki blast that connects, the wish for pain is not granted. It doesn’t even sting which is why he slowly waves away the smoke, the cloth is ever slightly singed as he doesn’t give it a second gaze. The smoke clears to him instead frowning, a raised brow with a bored look upon his face before slowly continuing his walk forward, the predatory leer in his eyes has not vanished. There is nothing they can do to stop him.
This is his domain. Which makes it all the more easy to ignore the power thrown at him and keep walking, unbothered. So pitiful, fruit that bore ripe and yet there’s such a lack of energy that he debates upon it, before a smile slowly splits across his face, a hand slowly raises before he fires a blast, the darkened ki rushes forward before forcefully transferring itself into the exhausted twin, he can feel the satisfaction at seeing the way it does strengthen, but he’d barely given anything, just enough to keep them going.
“If your already exhausted the hunts not nearly as fun, no. I think I’ll share some, just to make things interesting. Can’t you feel it, the very air will dance at your control, tantalizing isn’t it~” He can see it, the disgust. He’s all sorts of wrong, his ki is no different, acidic. So finally he launches into action, aiming for the one that’s currently more favorable. The stronger. His fist meets the ground, his cut tail swings, blood splattering across the dance fusion’s wrist as he wraps it firmly around and yanks him right into where he brings a foot up, smashing it into the other’s chest before a hand sweeps out, edges of his nails digging into flesh, marking him. A satisfaction and yearning seeps into his bones. Though he can sense the other coming, rearing into the fight even though he’s so weak.
A simple blast of ki is enough, sending the still recovering twin back down into the rubble as he quickly throws himself into the fray with the other blue saiyan at the moment, laying in punches before suddenly pain floods through his face, the splatter of blood as he steps back, head thrown back from the blow straight to his face before slowly raising his head, a blink before a low chuckle. “May I have another?” He revels in the reactions he’s getting, fingers twitching at the prospect of an actual decent fight as he lets his ki run wild. Overflowing into the area as rubble slowly rises in aspect to his strength. “Come on, I’m barely getting started.”
He lunges forward again, pummeling into his opponent, the intent to kill is there, but he’s clearly getting bored when each attack feels numb to him. He takes a beating from them, but he just can’t care until finally letting his ki explode, sending both backwards as he floats upwards, collecting ki into a massive blast, the intent to ruin them both, but it explodes in his hand suddenly, that bright flash of ki he’s gone five years without that makes his own ki backfire and burn at him, hissing ever slightly as pain registers through his nerves. But the maddening cackle following, wide expectant eyes following the trail. He’s not disappointed by what he sees, what he’s earned with his actions.
A gaze that rival’s ice with it’s coldness. A frame as equally caked in blood yet it’s all his, segments still dripping as his vest is in tatters, the edges of his sash have been singed, faint rips at the white pants, but it’s the absolute damage to his body that stands out. Broken chains around his frame, some have clearly rubbed raw at his flesh, numerous scars that can be seen, some layered atop each other in an explainable amount given. A neat slice right into his eyebrow that’s still oozing blood, deep slashes at his wrists that has blood dripping still, trailing down his fingers before he lunges forward. Now that he’s closer, it’s easy to see the giant of a man bring his fists into a club and send him careening into the earth like a meteor. Shaking his hands ever slightly afterwards as if the very contact burned before he drops down near the two, finally taking assessment of the situation.
“My world was invaded with demons, the warrior you see before you was a dear ally, his body has been taken by one of the masterminds behind this. I’d suggest putting aside your petty differences if you wish to survive this encounter. He’s been playing until now.”
If to answer his words, Vegito rises, clearly effected by the attack from earlier as he shudders, as if the ki was still running its course before slowly releasing a rugged breath, then laughing, his body shakes as he tilts his head back, chest heaving as he sputters for a moment before he cackles. “Oh this is great! You finally broke free, it only took five years for you to gather your strength back. But you are much too late, I found where you hid them. They fought so valiantly. They took my eye with them to the grave if that makes you feel any better.” He drops on the rubble, staring down at the three but his words directed at the taller, his words drawled before he chuckles, the faint despair peaking through the dance fusion before it reaches its climax. The howl of rage that erupts and he’s barely avoiding being speared through with a metal rod picked from the rubble, the leg strikes next, before that wonderful primal form comes to life.
“You-” “Monster, oh please they cried the same thing, saying you’d save them. Children always scream the best-” He’s interrupted by the giant ki blast aimed to take him out, there’s not enough power even with the most primal form. “I couldn’t save them, I WILL avenge their deaths, FOR THEIR PARENTS!”
The blast does nothing. Zero damage and the terrifying version of himself carries on his merry way. Vegetto balks slightly, brows furrowed as he attempts to formulate a plan of attack. If he now has to watch his back for Gogeta and this imposter, it’s highly unlikely he’ll walk away unscathed. Unease floods through him with each step nearer the fake-him takes, hands clenching into fists as he awaits something retaliating. Power like that… is greater than anything he’s tried combatting yet. Potentially higher than the menace equally immobilised just ahead of him. Weirdly, Gogeta is yet to leap into the fray against this version of the potara fusion.
“Maybe we should—” he begins, interrupted by a beam of energy soaring his way. Without the time or energy to react, Vegetto’s hit and for the love of all that’s good, it hurts. Colliding with his stomach, the foreign ki invades his system like a remorseless virus, infecting all it touches. He slowly collapses in on himself, arms clutched about his midsection as his eyes jam shut, teeth gritted from the flaring agony. It’s sickening, literally. Never before has he felt so unwell. “G-Gogeta—y-you—” he stammers with failing coherency, finally down on his knees as he rides out the affliction.
Absurd is the way Vegetto crumbles with a ki-infusion. Usually, it bolsters the chosen one’s power, not sabotages. Gogeta scans the moron’s signature quickly, deducting that his strength has returned but at an awfully painful price. How he is yet to discern, but the pain signals being off the chart are evidence enough. There’s something abnormal, something unearthly about this carbon copy. Something truly evil.
Currently blue eyes narrow in on the offending fusion getting in his way, Gogeta preparing to attack or defend. Except – he does neither. Their common enemy is too fast when he shoots forward, taking the dance fusion by complete surprise. Underestimating the faker to be more in line with Vegetto’s abilities, he glumly notes was a mistake. Paying for mistakes can be tough, laborious and completely unfair. That is what he pegs the next happenings as.
At some point, he feels Vegetto move. Finally uncurled and jumping into the fray, the potara-made man fairs no better against this opponent with the surreal strength. Gogeta shakes away the haze trying to veil his line of sight, aware he’s bleeding from somewhere but recovering from the breathlessness of being winded takes priority. Blood will dry, air he needs to keep conscious.
They make little progress. For any strategy they try, despite not really working together, neither Gogeta nor Vegetto are able to damage him. To a warrior of his calibre, it’s extraordinarily frustrating that someone can run circles around him. The blows he or Vegetto get in are shrugged off like a bothersome fly irritating the demon. Tiring quickly, leaden limbs are little more than a death sentence. Saiyan stubbornness allows him to keep a grasp on the fading Blue, but not without its consequences. He can’t take much more, and he knows Vegetto is less so.
Is this how he dies? To a mutant, rabid fusion laughing at them? What a pain.
But they don’t die. Not just yet. After being flung backwards by an underhanded expulsion of ki, Gogeta’s straight back on his feet despite staggering, panting heavily as his form throbs from the abuse. Keen eyes lock onto the figure dedicated to killing them, when… fate intervenes in the appearance of – another him. Another dance fusion.
Evidently, Vegetto spots the same with a little delay. “Oh, w-what the hell? ‘Nother one of you? Just what I needed.”
“Shut up, idiot…” Gogeta huffs, breathing labored. That’s what hurts the most, breathing. He’s certain a few ribs are cracked or worse, pinching with each inhale. A hasty glance to Vegetto notes he’s no better. Except— “Where did you—you get that?”
Within Vegetto’s palm is a single sensu bean. “Uh—ol’ doom ‘n gloom you gave it to me.”
Uncertain to the motive of why, he’s hesitant to consume it. Firstly, it might be a trap and the beans work opposite here, instilling harm instead of curing ailments. Secondly, the only other dance fusions he’s met wants his head on a silver platter. Thirdly… what is that insane level of power emanating from… the other Gogeta? And what is that level? Despite all the blood, bruising and otherwise, the guy’s able to punt the new nightmare away and nearly pin him down in two seconds flat.
Mind spacing for a tick or two, Vegetto once again questions his own self-preservation at finding the display amazing in more than one way. One day, I’m gonna die ‘n it’s gonna be my own fault.
“Eat it, moron,” Gogeta – the one he knows and is glaring at him like he’s a waste of space – snaps, angered gaze flicking his way for a second. “You’ll need all the help you can get.”
“Charmed, really.” Rolling his eyes, Vegetto tunes back into the other pair fighting again, shouting something he missed whilst conversing with the Bane of his Existence. Troublesome to not know all the details but he’s positive the guy weeping bodily fluids everywhere needs the healing properties of the kernel more than he does.
So that becomes his next plan of action. Disregarding the hostile aura beating at him from his known Gogeta, Vegetto leaps up into the air and blasts off towards the friendlier counterpart. Stopping a little way off, he waves the bean in the air, pinched between two fingers. Calling out, he aims to gain the furry one’s attention. “YO! DON’T YA NEED THIS MORE?”
Rolling his eyes at the obvious distraction tactic, Gogeta hopes it works on the demonic potara one, too. Should his focus shift for too long, Gogeta’s plan on transmitting behind the fellow to deliver a punishing blow to the soul – the one and only Stardust Breaker. In fact, it’s what he does anyway. While Vegetto prattles on to the fake fluffy him, Gogeta silently warps to a destination behind his intended target, the attack already building in the palm of his hand. A few heartbeats later, he releases it, sling-shotting it directly at demonic potara’s back.
prguitarman
stormborns
annaxmalina
andulkaphoto
2087
vaporwave
turnnoffyourmind
