Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2021 10:40:28 GMT -5
The village known as Tarbel, a small place for certain but it was a decent place to get a bit of rest. Whether the warfront was close or far away, it seemed to get a bit of traffic. Matoto didn't know for certain where the warfront was taking place, was the saiyan empire winning? Was the tuffles holding the upper hand? Matoto was to knew to know for certain and no one he knew was able to say for certain. Sure he could turn on the news and listen to the garbage on there, but he didn't like tv's. The pictures bothered his eyes and threw him for a loop. It was like watching someone else play, and you weren't allowed outside. He hated that feeling.
So he could only find out any information from soldiers, ones on break or otherwise unoccupied. Despite his strength, he was still relegated to delivery services due to his "run" in with a elite soldier. Matoto didn't like being looked down upon by others, he hated it and despised it. He was a warrior, better than most of the snot nosed brats that proclaimed themselves elites. Yet he was looked at like a pest, a disease in some regards. It was no secret he had been exiled at one point to "calm" him down, but to be allowed to return he did just that. Now he was put in a truck to deliver goods.
It was infuriating to the saiyan warrior, yet here he was, sorting through papers by his truck like a good little soldier. It turned his stomach how pitiful he must seem right now. With a grunt of frustration, Matoto threw the clip board into the truck through the window and took his seat in the garage. His chair squeaking loudly as he stared down at the ground. His mind unfocused as he did so, letting his minds eye travel back to his old fights. Perhaps that animal planet wasn't so bad after all... but he would hate to miss all the good food... when he could afford it.
So he could only find out any information from soldiers, ones on break or otherwise unoccupied. Despite his strength, he was still relegated to delivery services due to his "run" in with a elite soldier. Matoto didn't like being looked down upon by others, he hated it and despised it. He was a warrior, better than most of the snot nosed brats that proclaimed themselves elites. Yet he was looked at like a pest, a disease in some regards. It was no secret he had been exiled at one point to "calm" him down, but to be allowed to return he did just that. Now he was put in a truck to deliver goods.
It was infuriating to the saiyan warrior, yet here he was, sorting through papers by his truck like a good little soldier. It turned his stomach how pitiful he must seem right now. With a grunt of frustration, Matoto threw the clip board into the truck through the window and took his seat in the garage. His chair squeaking loudly as he stared down at the ground. His mind unfocused as he did so, letting his minds eye travel back to his old fights. Perhaps that animal planet wasn't so bad after all... but he would hate to miss all the good food... when he could afford it.
PL: 19,000 (set to 5,000 with weights)
WC: 358
WC: 358