#;darkprince

[feardona]

@hiddcnrage |  small starter call

Back bent forward, loose arms dangle freely by his sides, a fiery golden aura enveloping his small frame as he proudly demonstrates the power Bobbidi had bestowed upon him.      “Isn’t this better? With those Earthlings gone I can use my full strength against you, Gohan. Unless you’d rather I wipe out more civilians in order for you to fight.” What was it said of like father, like son after all-- that and the dark prince was eager to see how strong the famed prodigal child really was. 

[feardona]

@bioxperfection | continued from: x

How disappointing. Given the android’s pedigree, he had thought the son of Cell would’ve inherited his father’s passion for killing, that same appetite for destruction and carnage that had once lent the saiyajins their fearsome reputation. Learning that the other not only lacked this passion but openly rejected it too rendered him mute for long enough to make it seem noticeable.

“So you would rather waste your potential doing what exactly? Fighting for justice?!“ Voice rising in volume, the prince isn’t sure what disgusts him more-- seeing a fighter reject their true nature or learning that they were one to oppose injustices reaped.       “Such naivety! It will be the cause of your death!”

[feardona]

@ssrxse​ | starter call

Teal hues furrow in suspicion, glaring intently at the mockery standing before him. In many regards the lookalike resembled the same oaf he longed to fight, but knew was impossible. He was dead and buried, whereas this stranger was quite alive. “What a pathetic display! You’re not the real Kakarot!”     Whilst his words made one specific claim, his instincts worked to inform him otherwise. Try as he might to ignore the obvious, every fibre of his being was telling the corrupted saiyajin that this man was his rival, even with the decidedly darker attire and completely different ki. “How dare you stand there and mock me with his image. I should kill you on the spot for this transgression!”

[feardona]

@mrxfatxbuu  | starter call

Bile rises in his throat at the sight of that rotund frame and candy-floss coloured skin. Bobbibi’s weapon, revived and made real again thanks to his selfish contributions. For what it’s worth he’s barely impressed; much as that fool loved to talk, he had expected the infamous Boo to be a capable fighter, worthy of posing a challenge.     Sadly, his expectations were left wanting. “You are the one they call Majin Boo? What a joke!”  

[feardona]

@moonydeathreborn | starter call

Not one to shirk away from the idea of a challenge, the fallen price beholds what remnants remain of his kingdom; a handful of dust on a backwater planet that has consistency vexed him. Driven by self fulfilment, what futile familial bonds he cultivated were shattered in the wake of Bobbidi’s intervention, reminding him that there were better issues to concern himself with than growing a legacy.     Bowing to the age old tradition of his race, Vegeta desired nothing else than a fight - to the death if need be. A tall task to be sure, especially when inhabiting a planet whose roster of capable fighters was limited to a dozen or so. No matter, perhaps if he simply waits, a suitable opponent will show...though his patience is quick to expire before long.

[feardona]

@childishterror | continued from: x

Knowing at he was staring at the hellish face of his own demise, Vegeta remains resolute in his choice, believing if there existed anyone capable of escorting the djinn to the gates of hell, it would he him. Refusing to answer, the prince’s eyes narrow in disgust, feet remaining stationary as the elastic creature starts to head towards him. Faster than he would’ve liked.    A quickly made decision determines that dodging is pointless-- especially if his foe could stretch such a lengthy distance so quickly -- and so, in deciding to stand his ground, the corrupted saiyajin bellows loudly, summoning his ki to hand in the form of a series of golden spheres. As soon as each sphere is formed it is sent forth, resulting in a volley of shots each of which was aimed at the djinn’s approaching form.   His choice of a greeting by way of barrage fire.

[feardona]

@lavanderhairedsaiyan  | starter call

The sight of that light purple mop stirs a glimmer of recognition within the empowered saiyajin, a fact that causes him much irritation. “Stay out of my way, Trunks.” The warning is one easily made, dispensed from a tongue quick to cut ties of blood and friendship. Family or not, the path he was about to embark on made the further cultivation of such bonds untenable, sacrifice being as part of the despicable bargain he had so willingly struck as much as the absconsion of his free will was.    “Now move or die, I don’t particularly care which one you choose.” Stepping forward, he inflicts more damage to that most tentative of bonds. In aligning himself with the warlock, darker natures were exerted; enough so that he now possessed the gall to treat his own son in the same regard as the rest of the rabble that chooses to oppose him.

[feardona]

@hiddcnrage  ​ | starter call

Bright hues blaze with barely concealed glee, content to be freed of shackles placed upon him by certain domestication. A man of few regrets, with vision now purged of pitiful distractions, he is indebted to the wizened warlock for offering him clarity, the brand placed upon his forehead seen as nothing compared to the power granted to him in exchange. Of course, allowing himself to become a majin meant undertaking certain servitude, all in a bid to hasten the revival of ​Bobbidi’s slumbering demon. It is an annoying condition to adhere to, but one that is acceptable given the circumstances.     “Where is your clown of a father, boy?!” His voice on the precipice of a shout, it seems he has been pursued since departing the stadium, no doubt in a bid to have his new agenda quashed before it could be fulfilled. He wasn’t about to let that happen; especially not at the hands of his greatest rival’s son.

“Dead or not, I’ll make him fight me – just you wait and see!”