Post by Chancellor Cheri on Mar 18, 2021 21:44:54 GMT -5
Cheri slid over the collapsed tree, its bark painted green with mutated moss. She ran under the collapsed wollywood mangrove, the pneumatophores of which had animated and fleshy bear traps snapping away at the slightest movement, and she jumped through the boggy marshmilk, the salt content of which could turn a turpentrat into a salt lamp after a nice evening swim. She jumped through one eye of the skull of a still-expanded Oozaru, the bone of which had not yet been digested by the foul osvoria and the never-rotting brain of which had not yet been inhabited by a local jellispore, before jumping out the other eye with a bouncy sproung-ng-ng.
Do not mistake Cheri’s risk-forbidding path for foolishness, nor bravery. No, Cheri was on the chase… or, rather, she was being chased. Not too long ago, she was in the midst of what, in the current time of decreased hostilities, was the closest thing to the worst thing: on the battlefield, undermanned, undergunned, mildly flanked and unperturbed. Things were going well, though, as she’d managed to turn the two Saiyans against each other (frankly, when you were as small as Cheri was, and you were a speck on the floor between two massive Oozaru, it was only a matter of time until they accidentally hit each other, and with their blutz-addled minds took their aggression out on each other)... y’know, until a third one came in, and suddenly things got a whole lot worse. It was OK, though, she was tactical enough to only fight somewhere she knew she had a sneaky way away from. By going into the Saiba Wastes, she could trust the high density and high power of the biome, as well as the Saiyan inability to sufficiently use their stolen scouters as well as their general impatience when they could just whack each other instead, to help her leave.
Cheri hid behind a natural earthen growth of glassy carbon, taking a moment to breath and to see what her scouter could tell her… Oh. Oh, no, this is… She’d heard about this: cheaper scouters going through a whole variety of chemically-distinct areas in quick succession, all while moving in hard-to-predict directions, sometimes turned themselves off (so as to prevent an overload, and possibly an explosion). As Cheri began the long process of turning the scouter back on, she looked around her…
She was in the middle of nowhere, co-ordinates unknown, way out unknown, betwixt a swamp, a marsh, a bog and a straight-up bad time. The colours were mainly dull, dark and with sweeping strokes of green, making her stand out with her white and her pink (which, otherwise, was only seen in the occasional pompom fern.
She took a step. Refusing to waste a moment, she would attempt to survey the area which, to her, represented the worst aspects of Plant’s unaltered natural biosphere combined with the worst corruptive elements of war.
Do not mistake Cheri’s risk-forbidding path for foolishness, nor bravery. No, Cheri was on the chase… or, rather, she was being chased. Not too long ago, she was in the midst of what, in the current time of decreased hostilities, was the closest thing to the worst thing: on the battlefield, undermanned, undergunned, mildly flanked and unperturbed. Things were going well, though, as she’d managed to turn the two Saiyans against each other (frankly, when you were as small as Cheri was, and you were a speck on the floor between two massive Oozaru, it was only a matter of time until they accidentally hit each other, and with their blutz-addled minds took their aggression out on each other)... y’know, until a third one came in, and suddenly things got a whole lot worse. It was OK, though, she was tactical enough to only fight somewhere she knew she had a sneaky way away from. By going into the Saiba Wastes, she could trust the high density and high power of the biome, as well as the Saiyan inability to sufficiently use their stolen scouters as well as their general impatience when they could just whack each other instead, to help her leave.
Cheri hid behind a natural earthen growth of glassy carbon, taking a moment to breath and to see what her scouter could tell her… Oh. Oh, no, this is… She’d heard about this: cheaper scouters going through a whole variety of chemically-distinct areas in quick succession, all while moving in hard-to-predict directions, sometimes turned themselves off (so as to prevent an overload, and possibly an explosion). As Cheri began the long process of turning the scouter back on, she looked around her…
She was in the middle of nowhere, co-ordinates unknown, way out unknown, betwixt a swamp, a marsh, a bog and a straight-up bad time. The colours were mainly dull, dark and with sweeping strokes of green, making her stand out with her white and her pink (which, otherwise, was only seen in the occasional pompom fern.
She took a step. Refusing to waste a moment, she would attempt to survey the area which, to her, represented the worst aspects of Plant’s unaltered natural biosphere combined with the worst corruptive elements of war.
PL: 5,000
Available Transformations: x2, Desperation
Resources: None lmao a Scouter!