Post by Cello on Mar 22, 2021 21:36:30 GMT -5
Cello would stare at both the Namekian and pale skinned alien. He was curious as to how all this had begun, but as he heard the wheezing and exasperated sounds of his master’s comrades, he realized it wouldn’t of mattered knowing who had begun this or not. He was sure the others were right – that this band of hooligans had rushed out to attack, but this was the prime hour of when most Mazoku were hunting for a meal – the fauna in the area adhering to a very particular and very consistent nature. So in truth, it was their own faults for not knowing where they were.
As he listened to what appeared to be an off-worlder, one of the first he’d ever witnessed, explain that he’d just arrived and had not an idea of where he was – Cello could understand that. The fact that he was still breathing at this hour meant that at the very least he was a survivor. That was good. Yet as the other spoke, a Namekian whom by color of skin and most fed looking appearance seemed to be of the blessed lands, Cello’s eyes would narrow. These words were different. Charged with hostile intent.
His tone, his words, they grated upon him instantly – and as he used his inate capability to sense energy, he noted there was arcana pulsating within that one. A Dragon. Though unlike any Dragon he’d encountered prior, as this ones tone towards the ‘Saiyan’? Is that what they were called? The one who had just helped him in battle was suddenly part of a greater problem? An Infestation? Well – he could understand ones displeasure at being overrun by unwanted. After all…
“…How arrogant of you. Just as you have skin of Green does not mean this area is free for those of your lot in life to roam. You may choose to come and go as you please, but some of us live here as we have no where else to go. So when I say you’re trespassing, you are.” His cold gaze remained locked on that one as he continued. Restitution? Tribute? Even if his commentary of wishing to work together to rid them of this alien was to be believed…
“You stand upon the Outer Plait, on the outskirts of our Territory and demand we, who have nothing, pay you…restitution? Honor you with tribute? Oh ho ho ho! For what? You stand upon our land – not the lush blue meadows of the plains. Not the rich waters of the sea. This desolation before you are our lot in life and only we have a say of what happens here. For we are the ones who reside!” He all but snarled those words. He couldn’t believe the sheer arrogance of this one! As if he were Guru himself! His attention returned to the offworlder then back to the Namekian before nodding towards the distance.
“-Atleast that one has the excuse of not knowing where he stands, where his ship made fall. You? You do not have such a luxury Dragon.”
It was clear Cello was annoyed – quite reasonably. This one stood before them declaring such things as he had, issuing edicts and ultimatums as if he were the one in control. Even if only a Doppleganger, the Clone before them was just as much the original in spirit and mind.
“…If you’re looking for Knowledge…” He called over to the Saiyan – “…or simply directions, I’ll be glad to point you. You stand in the Domain of the Mazoku Caste of Namek – the most disregarded and disdained group this world has to offer. We’ve not much – but what we have is ours. Excuse our locals as we have little to eat and all who tread upon this land are prey…we are not proud, but we accept this as how our life is…How we have been reduced by the other clans.” He glared hard at the Namekian once more before finishing;
“If you’ll forgive them, I can assure you safe passage until you leave this land. We at the very least understand how to be…understanding of an accident.” Cello’s words were like honey, they flowed slowly but smoothly. Even if someone wanted to be suspicious of his word – the other was making his point for him. His master and he couldn’t have planned or asked for anything better.
As he listened to what appeared to be an off-worlder, one of the first he’d ever witnessed, explain that he’d just arrived and had not an idea of where he was – Cello could understand that. The fact that he was still breathing at this hour meant that at the very least he was a survivor. That was good. Yet as the other spoke, a Namekian whom by color of skin and most fed looking appearance seemed to be of the blessed lands, Cello’s eyes would narrow. These words were different. Charged with hostile intent.
His tone, his words, they grated upon him instantly – and as he used his inate capability to sense energy, he noted there was arcana pulsating within that one. A Dragon. Though unlike any Dragon he’d encountered prior, as this ones tone towards the ‘Saiyan’? Is that what they were called? The one who had just helped him in battle was suddenly part of a greater problem? An Infestation? Well – he could understand ones displeasure at being overrun by unwanted. After all…
“…How arrogant of you. Just as you have skin of Green does not mean this area is free for those of your lot in life to roam. You may choose to come and go as you please, but some of us live here as we have no where else to go. So when I say you’re trespassing, you are.” His cold gaze remained locked on that one as he continued. Restitution? Tribute? Even if his commentary of wishing to work together to rid them of this alien was to be believed…
“You stand upon the Outer Plait, on the outskirts of our Territory and demand we, who have nothing, pay you…restitution? Honor you with tribute? Oh ho ho ho! For what? You stand upon our land – not the lush blue meadows of the plains. Not the rich waters of the sea. This desolation before you are our lot in life and only we have a say of what happens here. For we are the ones who reside!” He all but snarled those words. He couldn’t believe the sheer arrogance of this one! As if he were Guru himself! His attention returned to the offworlder then back to the Namekian before nodding towards the distance.
“-Atleast that one has the excuse of not knowing where he stands, where his ship made fall. You? You do not have such a luxury Dragon.”
It was clear Cello was annoyed – quite reasonably. This one stood before them declaring such things as he had, issuing edicts and ultimatums as if he were the one in control. Even if only a Doppleganger, the Clone before them was just as much the original in spirit and mind.
“…If you’re looking for Knowledge…” He called over to the Saiyan – “…or simply directions, I’ll be glad to point you. You stand in the Domain of the Mazoku Caste of Namek – the most disregarded and disdained group this world has to offer. We’ve not much – but what we have is ours. Excuse our locals as we have little to eat and all who tread upon this land are prey…we are not proud, but we accept this as how our life is…How we have been reduced by the other clans.” He glared hard at the Namekian once more before finishing;
“If you’ll forgive them, I can assure you safe passage until you leave this land. We at the very least understand how to be…understanding of an accident.” Cello’s words were like honey, they flowed slowly but smoothly. Even if someone wanted to be suspicious of his word – the other was making his point for him. His master and he couldn’t have planned or asked for anything better.