Post by Celmaru Waterfield on Jun 12, 2019 22:00:58 GMT
A lone hybrid was beside himself with monotonous strolling. As of late, the recent misadventures that the hybrid had embarked on had become utterly exhausting to even ponder over. Celmaru Waterfield, the debilitated hybrid in question, trudged along within the expansive fields of the Northern Wastes. The day had been as bland as the last -- excluding one of last week. Celmaru found little to enjoy, therefore. Another day wandering, shuffling throughout the world, none to consider home away from home.
The hybrid sighed to himself, guiding his palm to knead away his contorted facial expression. The early summer's heat attempted to blast down upon him; albeit to relatively mixed success. Often found in a blank, black shirt with a blue hem, the Sun wasn't much of a friendly presence to Celmaru. Regardless, Celmaru thumbed over the aggravating bags beneath his optical bullshit; unintentionally reminding himself that sleep was becoming a luxury. Sleep, of which, had been further and further disturbed. The majority of them displayed the visage of the same -- or perhaps entirely similar -- women. They often seemed to call for him, albeit that surely wasn't the case.
Celmaru was likely going insane over the past few years of isolation. Whether or not that was to be true, however, the hybrid flopped himself over. The oddly fertile soil was an ample cushion for spontaneous napping. That, or at least absentminded resting. Who cares? No one did. Celmaru didn't. Celmaru waged that he was unable to.
Time for your daily dose of freshly angst'd edge Oreiju .
There was little like a nice trip up north, 'cept maybe spending a week in a fridge because that is what it was like being on the northern hemisphere of planet Earth. Frankly he despised the sheer cliffs of climate that this planet offered to those that lived here, but this planet offered him more work than back home so he had to put up with it. These Northern Wastelands as they called them were an amazing place for the Tuffle to get some testing done.
He had developed a new series of weapons eh wanted to give a shot, but he didn't want to blow, another, hole in the side of his rundown warehouse. The last one he left there took almost three weeks to fix, they don't make enough duct tape for plasma induced burn holes do they? The trip up here took longer than he had hoped, but he made the trek regardless and as he finally arrived he tossed the capsule that contained the stockroom with the weapons inside.
Pulling the first weapon from this building, the Tuffle would be packing a large gun of sorts that dwarfed the being, standing alone at three times his height in length. Kicking down the stand and reading the behemoth, Oreiju would take a shot and as the air rippled violently around the weapon he felt his feet leave the ground.
"If anyone is back there you may want to move... like right now!", He would yell behind himself as he let go of the device, watching the gun travel backwards, leaving a trail of energy behind it until it faded into the horizon. The Tuffle on the other hand found himself rolling steadily on the ground, occasional scrapes and bruises popping up form the velocity of the fall.He would take a moment to get to his feet and take note of his surroundings.
Post by Celmaru Waterfield on Jun 28, 2019 19:58:37 GMT
Oh, son of a bitch. Despite the hybrid's sluggish, ultimately restless resting, beyond how redundant that seems, the hybrid kept painfully aware of his surroundings. Frankly, it was akin to a spot of paranoia rather than a keen, watchful, albeit spiritual gaze; yet that was of no matter at the moment. A reasonably empowered signature approached. The hybrid blinked. How convenient; surely 'tis another asshole itching for a scuffle. A distant, briefly incomprehensible shout prompted Celmaru to sit up for a moment; only to face the outlying weapon aimed to the hybrid's direction.
A ripple of the surrounding atmosphere preceded both the firing mechanism and the hybrid's subsonic vanishing act. The weapon rocketed into the horizon line, never to be seen again. Frankly, this was much to Celmaru's relief. To begin, the resulting pseudo-catastrophe that followed the weapon's firing cleaved straight through numerous fields. If the hybrid squinted: it appeared as if a mountain had been pierced as well. Oh how lovely, another terrorist. Fortunately, the dastard's Ki signature was substantial enough to follow with ease.
Celmaru descended upon the miniature loony, glaring down upon as he re-obtained his footing. The hybrid's arms folded, briefly peering nearby prior to speaking. The midget appeared to be alone. Lacking in the height department. That hair, as well -- good heavens! Then again, the hybrid could give any lip for anything of that sort. Regardless, the hybrid spoke, albeit with a hint of irritation lacing his words.
"Did you have fun endangering Earth's livestock?"
Celmaru haphazardly rubbed away at his eyes.
"...Perhaps an ecosystem, as well."
As the moment's interrogations began, a ring upon the hybrid's left hand emanated a hushed glow. A certain something was stirring; reacting to the obnoxious tremors and the buzzing of activity. Another Ki signature, another life. It threatened to escape the ring.
Good lord this was a rough week. Hopefully I can get back on schedule from here on Oreiju .