Post by Deleted on Sept 24, 2021 22:25:57 GMT -5
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[attr="class","characterappheader"]..//EVENT UPLOADED//..
The ruined Metropolis. A testament that in the absence of intelligent design nature can reclaim her stolen territories. The large city scape was once the site of a great battle between invader and native as the two super powers fought for dominance and supremacy, its name now long forgotten. Towering buildings clung together desperately by rebar and concrete, and homes found themselves supported upright by fragile beams and foundations. Most of the township was abandoned. Only the insane chose to remain in this desolate urban graveyard, yet it was nearby that Omato had awoken only moments ago....
His eye opened from behind a heavy lid as it immediately struggled to adjust to the various lights and tones which surrounded him in an enclosed room as he floated within a windowed capsual of healing bacta. By now the more serious wounds had closed and scarred while the superficial cuts had vanished completely. His awakening triggered an automatic sequence which seemingly drained the turquoise liquid from its chamber, followed by the disengagement of all life support systems. Once empty, the door squealed and erupted with gas as the medical apparatus popped its environmental seal, the smoke settling to reveal a naked half starved Saiyan.
He'd barely taken a single step from his isolated 'cage' before collapsing to his knees, the heavy thud of metal on concrete drawing his dazed attention. At first he simply stared at the prosthetic arm as he worked through the motions of figuring out what was happening. Needless to say his investigation took longer than expected as the synapses in his brain fired to link his current condition with his situation. When realization finally set in he fell back, his heart pounding in his chest as his lungs struggled to draw in breath. A panic attack. His slightly starved, yet strong, body flailed backwards as he scampered for something solid to lean against and his panicked state sent unfamiliar signals to his synthetic appendage causing it to go haywire.
In the brief moment of chaos his arm deactivated, falling limply to his side. The sudden flood of silence allowed him a moments of respite as he struggled to collect his thoughts. His last vivid memory was of the battlefield, his unit pushing forward to claim the settlement from its previous residents the Tuffles. Saiyan victory looked inevitable as the warriors decimated its opposition. The screams of Men, Women and Children filled the cityscape like a symphony of pain. Then out of nowhere the tones of agony had switched in an instant as laser fire rained from what seemed like all directions. His final memory was a rendering pain which incapacitated him, sending his consciousness into darkness. The next he woke he found himself here.
In the corner of the room, atop a white desk, he found his old attire which looked as if it had just been fabricated. Odd considering it was in tatters before his untimely rest. Cautiously he pulled the armor over his exposed body and proceeded to dress himself (albeit without a functional arm) before walking out of the enclosure. What seemed to strike him first upon exiting was the state of his environment compared to his surroundings and he noted the clever concealment of the bunker he awoke in. Clearly it had been operational despite the ruins in which surrounded it adding only more questions to the situation.
With his scouter out of commission he was isolated in this hell scape.
Word Count: 0,577
Total Count: 0,577
His eye opened from behind a heavy lid as it immediately struggled to adjust to the various lights and tones which surrounded him in an enclosed room as he floated within a windowed capsual of healing bacta. By now the more serious wounds had closed and scarred while the superficial cuts had vanished completely. His awakening triggered an automatic sequence which seemingly drained the turquoise liquid from its chamber, followed by the disengagement of all life support systems. Once empty, the door squealed and erupted with gas as the medical apparatus popped its environmental seal, the smoke settling to reveal a naked half starved Saiyan.
He'd barely taken a single step from his isolated 'cage' before collapsing to his knees, the heavy thud of metal on concrete drawing his dazed attention. At first he simply stared at the prosthetic arm as he worked through the motions of figuring out what was happening. Needless to say his investigation took longer than expected as the synapses in his brain fired to link his current condition with his situation. When realization finally set in he fell back, his heart pounding in his chest as his lungs struggled to draw in breath. A panic attack. His slightly starved, yet strong, body flailed backwards as he scampered for something solid to lean against and his panicked state sent unfamiliar signals to his synthetic appendage causing it to go haywire.
In the brief moment of chaos his arm deactivated, falling limply to his side. The sudden flood of silence allowed him a moments of respite as he struggled to collect his thoughts. His last vivid memory was of the battlefield, his unit pushing forward to claim the settlement from its previous residents the Tuffles. Saiyan victory looked inevitable as the warriors decimated its opposition. The screams of Men, Women and Children filled the cityscape like a symphony of pain. Then out of nowhere the tones of agony had switched in an instant as laser fire rained from what seemed like all directions. His final memory was a rendering pain which incapacitated him, sending his consciousness into darkness. The next he woke he found himself here.
In the corner of the room, atop a white desk, he found his old attire which looked as if it had just been fabricated. Odd considering it was in tatters before his untimely rest. Cautiously he pulled the armor over his exposed body and proceeded to dress himself (albeit without a functional arm) before walking out of the enclosure. What seemed to strike him first upon exiting was the state of his environment compared to his surroundings and he noted the clever concealment of the bunker he awoke in. Clearly it had been operational despite the ruins in which surrounded it adding only more questions to the situation.
With his scouter out of commission he was isolated in this hell scape.
Word Count: 0,577
Total Count: 0,577
[attr="class","nametitle"]OMATO
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[attr="class","characterappheader2"]POWERLEVEL | [attr="class","characterappheader2"]EXPERIENCE | [attr="class","characterappheader2"]ZENNI |
6,000 | 0,000 | 2,000ƶ |
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