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The Patriarch said
did you even read his CS? His goal is to wipe out evil, he wants to get stronger to try and meet his goal. I don't see your complaint since DBZ is mostly centered around characters getting stronger to overcome challenges Goku being a spotlight hog and everyone else giving up on their life to become wasted characters.


Fixed it for you. C'mon you know it's true... lmao
Or, you know, he could give us something to do? Not everyone needs to be gathered at the tournament, it's not impossible to have something happening elsewhere to give the rest of us something to do. Just saying.
So you'd have us just sit around not getting to do a goddamned thing while you privileged tournament fighters to get to have all the fun? Fuck that shit.
Dblade26 said you're only spectators in this first arc and probably only until whatever big Twist the GM has planned kicks in.


Which is why the prospect of sitting on my ass doing jack all while waiting for pairs of players to post back and forth sounds like the worst thing ever. Seriously, collab posts should just be made mandatory so we get through this thing and us "spectators" don't die of boredom while waiting for something to happen. Just my thoughts on the matter.
The Patriarch said
I am trying to decide if Maggatorr is going to go on a killing spree throughout the universe trying to wipe out evil when he gets strong enough.


Or, you know, he could just train. Like a normal character would. Is it me or are you obsessed with "power leveling" your character?
Rin said
I have an eventual end goal in mind for her, after all


Just when I'd almost forgotten about those things' existence. *sigh* Maybe Kouta will have died by then and I won't have to worry about it. lol
Millennium City, right around midnight. While the rest of the city went about celebrating the new year, a certain Japanese-American spent the holiday sitting atop an old radio station tower that overlooked the East Side, or at least what was left of it. The tower was just outside of the quarantined zone and granted Chad a depressing view of it. Buildings had fallen into disrepair, the roads looked like they were starting to break apart, windows were smashed all over the place. And then there was the worst part of it all, the sounds of mutagen victims moaning and wailing in the distance, in pain and in sorrow. It was enough to make you want to weep for them. In fact, Chad's eyes even watered a bit at one point, but he wiped them and successfully prevented himself from crying. It was such a sad sight, even more so because Chad's childhood home had been in the East Side, and now there was a good chance he would never get to go see it again.

He watched in silent agony, feeling helpless. Despite the power his sword, the Ryuuken, gave him, there wasn't really a damn thing he could do to fix the problem in the Quarantine Zone, and inside that angered him. What was the point in having this power if he couldn't actually save those poor people with it? He shook his head, having now started to tune out out the sound of wailing victims when he heard a small, still voice in his mind and heart. It was Ryuunosuke, the spirit of his ancestor that haunted the blade he wielded.

"Why do you mourn for those in the infected area? You can put an end to their suffering."

"By murdering them? I think I'll pass." Chad said aloud. Thankfully no one else was around or he would probably look like a weirdo that was talking to himself, "Just because you have no qualms about killing people, doesn't mean I shouldn't have them." he continued, now staring at the sword in his hand as if it were the face of his ancestor, "Besides, what if they could still be cured? I'd be killing them for no reason." Chad had only been using his new-found powers for just over a month. In that time, he'd taken down some criminals, but had yet to kill anyone, nor did he have any plans to. This was the 21st Century, after all, not the 12th Century where fighting to kill was considered the norm. Ryuunosuke still seemed to have difficulty understanding that, as the spirit always seemed to offer killing as a first resort, rather than a last one.
It was just after midnight, the new year had begun, but the people in YoshidaCorp were not celebrating. Instead, they were at work in the main building located in the western half of downtown. Within the research lab, Dr. Katsuo Yoshida and a team of lab techs were studying a dead specimen on a table. The specimen in question was the remains of a mutagen victim, and the researchers were hoping that by performing an autopsy they could discern a better understanding of the mutations and perhaps even develop a cure. A slow process, to be sure, but they had to start somewhere. The lab team went about the procedures, with Yoshida supervising from a distance. The man was involved in many projects, this being only one of them, so unfortunately he didn't have the time to be completely hands on here.

As he was marking things down on a clipboard of some kind, he finally decided that he had spent enough time in this lab and was likely needed elsewhere, so he handed the notes to an assistant and left to check on other projects. Many of the projects involved medicine, since YoshidaCorp was a pharmaceutical company first and foremost. They did, however, dabble in other areas. Specifically, they had a Weapons R&D Department from which a good portion of the company's government funding came. That was where Yoshida was headed, as he had a rather special project in the works there and wanted to check on its progress.

When he arrived in Weapons R&D, he was greeted by the lead tech in charge of the research, "Ah, Mr. Yoshida, perfect timing sir. I have a progress report for you on Project Guardian."

Yoshida nodded, "And that would be...?" he asked, slight impatience slipping into his tone.

The tech became a bit nervous but continued, "We've managed to reach the beta stage of testing, right on schedule. We should have a prototype ready for field testing in two weeks, three at most." he said, trying to sound proud of work. Yoshida only nodded.

"Good. Keep up the good work, and keep me updated. I want to know as soon as a prototype is ready." Yoshida instructed to the tech, who nodded and then went back to work. As for Yoshida, he left the department and returned to his office, where he would try to get some more progress done on various paperwork assignments before calling it a night. As glad as he was about Project Guardian's progress, there was still an inherent frustration with it. When his parents left their mystical sword to his son, Katsuo tried to persuade Chad to let the sword be studied, so that it's powers could potentially mimicked through technology. Unfortunately, Chad wanted no part in such an undertaking, and so Katsuo was forced to go through with the project without having the Ryuuken as a basis for the concepts. It obviously didn't stop Project Guardian, but it was slowed considerably. If Chad had agreed to the proposal, Katsuo had no doubt that they would already be in the field testing stages and perhaps on the verge of mass production. Oh well, with or without Chad he would engineer the ultimate defensive force for the city. It was only a matter of time, and fortunately Katsuo knew all too well the virtue of patience.
*pokes with a stick*
I have a question. How far-gone are the mutated people? I ask because I plan for Chad to be asking the same question and wonder whether or not these people can still be saved.
Kouta paid very little attention to the fights. He'd barely heard of many of these fighters, much less cared who won or lost. He sighed, wishing the crowd wasn't so noisy, even if such a wish was impossible, given the setting and events going on. Still, this was the kind of experience that he just knew would be giving him a massive headache before long. Oh well, if it was to get his wish from the Dragon Balls, then it would be worth the aggravation. For now he'd just have to grit his teeth and deal with it.

He watched as one of the fights came to close. Some old guy versus a younger guy in what clearly looked like armor. Did... did they allow the use of weapons and armor in these tournaments? Kouta was sure that such things were banned but maybe they had changed the rules at some point and he simply hadn't known about it? Well whatever the case, the younger guy apparently won, though it looked like it was only through the skin of his teeth. Kouta honestly would have pegged the old guy as the one who would win, but hey, it wasn't like he had actually bet any money on the fight. Hell, he barely even cared about the fight in the first place, only taking notice of it because of the whole weapons and armor thing coming into play.

As the first round of fights started winding down, Kouta began to notice a rather irritating pattern. Certain members of the audience were apparently the most arrogant, obnoxious assholes he'd ever seen in his life. And... not a single one of them were human. Between the loudmouth alien who damn near started a panic with his little tantrum and the demon Zabura nearly destroying a set of bleachers when someone threw their snow cone at him, one would get the idea that having weird colored skin or other alien/demonic traits were grounds to be the biggest jerk imaginable. Okay, the snow cone thing was a rather boneheaded thing for the human guy to do, given the circumstances, but surely the demon should have been able to retain more composure than that. In response to all of this, Kouta just pinched the bridge of his nose, practically facepalming at the display of sheer douchebaggery happening around him.

"Apparently the concepts of subtlety and restraint are purely human inventions..." he muttered to himself under his breath. He had an instinct to step in to stop these guys from causing any more destruction, but fought the urge. He now had his own mission and wasn't about let the temper tantrums of an alien meat-head get in the way of his completing it. Although he did secretly wish that someone else would step up and do something about them. That at least would show some much needed decency in humanity... and give him a potential opportunity to slip away and steal the Dragon Balls. Of course, the chances of that actually happening were slim to none, especially in a place like this, where the bloodsports ended up bringing out the worst in people.
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