Homecoming (Celerous)

So, Fukushu clearly wasn't done. The man might have been impressed with his power, but he seemed to be decidedly unimpressed with Celerous' own lack of a killing instinct. Of course he didn't take advantage of Fukushu while he was down: they were just sparring, not fighting to kill. Did he talk a little too much about his family? Perhaps, but Celerous didn't consider Fukushu to be an enemy. Besides, he had kept the most important part to himself: where, exactly, the farm was located.

But Fukushu wanted an all out battle. With a sigh, Celerous resigned himself to a long night.

He growled deep, and reached for that smothered fury. It was barely more than an ember now, but he would have to stoke the flame. The words Fukushu had thrown at him earlier would have to do. He focused on them, on the way the man had derided his father, who had died trying to give his son the sort of peaceful life he had always dreamed of having. Power expanded in his chest, forcing the muscles of his body to bulge and bulk until they tore through his shirts. Ki welled through his body, burning in a clear aura, and Celerous felt the puncture inside of his cheek ebb.

But unlike in Konats, Celerous kept his rage in check, all for the fury burning in his now yellow eyes.

"Show me what you've got."

Fukushu rushed him once more, arm outstretched as if to clobber him. Celerous floated still, welling ki into his body. The Heran's strike landed. Celerous didn't so much as budge. With a shout, Celerous then swung his body around, attempting to throw a kick into the Heran's side. Should it land, Celerous wouldn't stop there, following up the blow with a flurry of punches and kicks intended to put the Heran on the defensive.

As Celerous felt his leg connect, and saw Fukushu back away from him, he couldn't help but let a satisfied smirk cross his face. Saiyan pride finally sparked inside the young hybrid, not because he was winning the fight, but moreso because someone was, at last, showing Fukushu his place. Ever since they'd met on Konats, Cel had put up with Fukushu barging into conversations, and trying to shove his ideals down other people's throats. Sometimes a bit more literal than metaphorical.

Seeing the green man in shock, as his punch didn't so much as phase Cel, felt good.

Fukushu swept at him with a leg, and Celerous was bowled over onto the ground. Fukushu mounted him, turning this from a boxing match into wrestling. Celerous braced his hands against the Heran's scorched chest, feeling grotesque and cripsy skin under his palms, and pushed back against the man to give himself some room. As the Heran continued to try and press Celerous into the earth, the Saiyan tried to throw a knee into his abdomen, in order to throw the man off of him.

If he was successful, Celerous would jump away, putting some space between himself and the Heran.

Fukushu was strong, stronger now that he was in this enhanced form of his, but Celerous no longer felt anxiety. No longer felt fear. Power coursed through his veins, far greater than normal, and the young farmer was determined to use it. The Heran had wanted a fight, even after Celerous had offered to put an end to things. So, the young hybrid would give the man one he wouldn't forget. He'd like to see Fukushu rant about his ideals, once he was face down in the dirt and missing a few teeth.

The mere image of that put a smile on Celerous' face.

Fukushu just didn't quit! Not that Celerous expected the man to. He was, after all, a true warrior. Even burnt to a crisp, and with the exhaustion that came with a drawn out fight, the Heran just kept coming at him. Celerous was strong, and he had plenty of gas left in him, but even he was starting to feel a little drained. That Heavenly Breath had taken a good chunk of his energy to spit out. Yet, here they both were: still going at it. Cel figured he had the energy of youth to thank, while Fukushu probably had a lifetime of combat conditioning under his belt.

Fukushu threw a hook at him, which Celerous sidestepped only to realize that it wouldn't have landed even if he stood still. A feint. Fukushu then threw a knee into his midsection, paying him back for the blow just mere moments ago. Celerous staggered back a step, before spitting blood onto the ground and growling. Dammit, he should have seen that one coming from a mile away.

Celerous quickly tossed a few ki blasts in Fukushu's direction, before charging in after them. He followed up with a swift kick at the man's knee, and followed that up with a few swift punches. He didn't expect these to do any lasting damage, but he wanted to put Fukushu on the defensive once more. All the while, Celerous began to gather his Ki in his body, letting it pulse within him.

He wanted to put this fight to rest. Celerous had work to do tomorrow, and he couldn't exactly get his job done if he was aching all day from this fight. Better to try and end this quickly. But he needed time to charge his next attack, and that was harder to do when he was actively assaulting his opponent.

He needed more time.

Fukushu, whether from actual strategy or just his wounded body failing him, was starting to play smart. He was deliberately taking on the defensive, and letting Celerous tire himself out in his onslaught. So be it. If Fukushu was going to borrow his strategy of playing defense, then he'd have to give him a blow that would shatter that defense. That had been the idea the entire time, anyhow. From the moment he'd entered this fury enhanced form, Cel had been building up to his ultimate technique.

Fukushu stumbled, and Celerous thought he'd found his opening. But he'd gotten too greedy. The Heran threw a fist upward, catching Celerous in his gut, and throwing him back. Celerous caught himself, feet dragging in the dirt, only for a stone to break across his brow and draw blood.

Celerous was getting tired of this.

The ki in his arm built to a climax, and Celerous pulled it back behind his body. With a hearty shout, he threw it forward and flew toward Fukushu with all the speed he could muster in a short distance.

"DRAGON!"

Golden energy began to flow around Celerous, veiling him until he disppeared behind a glowing mass. That energy began to take form, twisting and curling around itself, flowing like a river at the precipice of waterfall. The shape solidified, the energy finalized into it's true, brutal form: that of a golden dragon twisting through the air, burning with untold power. No longer was there a Celerous; his physical form simply didn't exist in this moment, replaced by the ultimate power that lie within him.

"FIST!"

The voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, disembodied as Celerous was, stuck in the avatar of a golden dragon. That dragon blew speared toward Fukushu. Whether or not his attack struck true, the golden energy would blast past and dissipate behind where the Heran was standing, leaving behind an exhausted Celerous with a fist outstretched. 

As the dragon passed through the Heran, what remained of Celerous felt a sense of satisfaction. The warrior in question managed to stifle his blow, and reduce it's burning damage. But only somewhat, and the warrior had given his all towards doing it. The fact that Celerous still bled damage through, injuring the Heran, and getting a cry of pain out of him, was enough to satisfy him. Celerous Fark, a mere farmboy, was standing up to a Heran warrior and keeping up. The Dragon was finally born, now in the heat of this simple conflict, and he was here to stay.

The golden energy that was the dragon dissipated behind Fukushu, leaving a winded Celerous on two shaking legs. He didn't have much left in him, he knew. He sucked in long, gasping breaths, hoping to try and gain some sort of stability in his form. But it was damn near useless. He was drained. Tapped dry. It was becoming a struggle to even maintain his furious form. If this fight didn't end soon, he'd be done. So Celerous turned to face Fukushu.

And caught a fist to his throat. He was flung. Far.

Celerous swore his tracea warped from the blow, caving in under Fukushu's fist. His head whipped back, only a few pounds of pressure from snapping his spine and ending his life right there. Pain followed suit, more than Cel had ever felt in his life. He tried to cough, or spittle, or vomit blood. But he couldn't. Not even air could pass through he damanged esophagus, so complete was the Heran's strike against him.

Celerous smashed into a tree, which splintered into pieces, before he smashed into another and finally came to a stop. His body began to spasm, panicked as he was as he tried to draw in air but couldn't. His whole neck was one dark purple bruise. Slowly, though he managed to trickle air down his throat. He was swollen, and he couldn't draw in much oxygen, but he wasn't out yet.

With a thunderous roar, past a throat that strained under the pressure of the wind in his lungs, Celerous flared his aura and shattered the forest around him. He drew on the last bit of his energy, a reserve hidden deep within that he hadn't felt until now, and forced his legs to become solid beneath him. 

The Dragon was not yet done. Slowly, Celerous walked forward, to face Fukushu once more.

Fukushu was shocked that he was still standing. In truth, Celerous felt much the same. He shouldn't have been up, shouldn't have been able to walk, certainly shouldn't have been able to breathe. Something in him, however, refused to let him stay down. It was a deep thing, buried about as far down as it could be in his person. But it was something that had been there all along, just waiting to be unearthed, until the day the kindly farmer finally let go and let loose all his power.

The fiery pride of a Saiyan warrior: a final gift from his father.

Fukushu taunted him, but it hardly mattered now. Even if Celerous could speak past his damaged throat, he was focused on one thing and one thing only: winning this battle. Nothing else mattered now. Not his fury, not Fukushu's words, not even the job that awaited him tomorrow. In this single moment, the Earthling was gone, replaced by a raging draconid wearing Earthling flesh. The power of a Saiyan warrior and an Earthling martial artist was fused together in a single being: the simple farmer known as Celerous Fark.

And he would never be able to bury that again.

Fukushu threw himself back at him, throwing a forearm towards his face. Celerous blocked that with his hand, but caught a fist to his abdomen. Pain flared within him, as air forced itself past his broken esophagus. But Celerous straightened out, and with a deep inhale, threw his leg at Fukushu with all the strength he could currently muster. It wasn't much, especially not compared to the Dragon Fist he'd let loose earlier, but there was a new power behind it; an increase in energy that burned through him.

Regardless of whether or not Cel's strike landed, he would stand still, waiting for the Heran's move.

Celerous' leg did strike true, but at the last second, the Heran threw up a ki barrier. Even so, Fukushu's energy gave away under Cel's power. The green alien felt most of the brunt of his attack, and was flung away to the river's edge. Celerous let out a pained exhale, and lowered his leg. He wasn't sure he could keep this up for but another minute. Whatever energy had given him his second wind was already fading fast. Still, for the moment, he managed to stand firm. Just a little while longer, he told himself. Fukushu had to be nearing his own limit.

The Heran took to the air. Celerous looked up at him, and waited. Earlier on in the fight, he might have tried to join Fukushu in the skies, but he just didn't have the energy. Or, rather, he did, but he needed to conserve as much as possible. His opponent rushed him head on, and Cel realized too late that the man was too fast for him to counter. At least, too fast considering how winded he was. He couldn't even well Ki into his body in time to counter him.

Fukushu hit him in the abdomen yet again, driving air painfull past his ruined throat once more. Celerous was beginning to realize that the Heran really liked gut punching people. And gut kicking. And gut headbutting. It was a little bit annoying, but in all honesty, Celerous just didn't have it in him to be frustrated at the tactic.

The blow sent Celerous skidding on his heels, dirt tearing up underneath his feet. He came to a stop, and stood still. He drew in a deep breath, trying to raise his power. He could do it, if he just tried a little bit harder. Had a little bit more time. Fukushu was quickly pushing him to his breaking point. If he didn't pull that energy out within the next few seconds, he would lose this fight.