@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.