![Newbie Guide](https://i.imgur.com/Uy7hIlu.png")
Post by Pracross on Mar 30, 2021 21:03:39 GMT -5
Reconnection
Pracross - Saiyan - 5,000 PL
6/6 KP - 0/6 MP - Base Form
After the anger had finished slipping out, it seemed Pracross was not the only one enraged by the comments of the Elitist Namekian. Cello made comments on every remark the down talking Namekian spouted, the Hybrid would give reprimands to the racism and lack of unity, and the Forgemaster would put one final stake claiming where a majority of the outspoken stood. It seemed that the ill-begotten warrior was at a loss in voice, especially as many of the crowding voices were beginning to settle their convictions. Flanked by the Halfling and Cello, Pracross was glad to have voices representing him in this growing dog fight.
Still, not all the words spoken in those moments settled well in the Saiyan. Pracross could not be angry at Cello, even if he put on a big show in hopes of garnering pity for his people, however that wasn’t what settled well. After his initial entrance demanding respect, he was now standing at the top of the conversation with a moral high ground. Most eyes were shifting to the Dragon outcast, who was starting to lose himself in anger, enough so to start insulting the wisest of the bunch. It was a total flip from the conversation mere moments ago. The oddity of transition aside, even after all of the information Tambo and Cello leaked, Pracross could still feel as if a piece of the history was missing from this “knowledge” the Mazoku were after. How deep was this conspiracy?
After the ashen Namekian shut down the benevolent outcast, Tabor spilled thoughts on his happenstance. The Warrior unveiled a soft spot that had not been evident in the passing minutes, revealing a dark aspect of the Namekians and their passion of hatred. Plant was at war because the Saiyans had lost their home and couldn’t meet eye to eye with the Tuffles, leading to a terrible war. The Namekians were at war with themselves, unable to decide who should have the right to call it home. It left a crack in the youth’s heart.
It was by this point Pracross noticed the shake in his hands disappear. Holding his hand out, Pracross felt a serenity that had idly taken over, removing the stress like a ghost leaving his body. In his palm, a raindrop of gold fell, splashing up a golden energy before disappearing. Did it rain on Namek? Pracross hadn’t seen it do so, so this had to be the effect of something else. Magical properties or not, seeing the golden drizzle did put the Fighter to ease. Rain was rare on Planet because of its arid climate, but the off chance it did was a delight. Pracross could feel his eyes droop to imagine his home’s windows dripping with the rain from a thunderstorm.
The fantasies were cut short as the Namekian Pracross had defended approached and gave his thanks. The boy, caught off guard by the bow, gave a low nod and a smile. “It was nothin’, really. I’m not gunna stand for someone getting, well, bullied.” The teen said. It was here Pracross managed to learn at least one new name: Nero, the Hybrid. It was by that point Pracross was called to introduce himself, which the boy happily gave a Saiyan salute to, pounding a backwards fist onto his heart and standing tall. “I’m Pracross. I’m here looking for a mentor to teach me in the art of ki.” The Saiyan let himself drop to at ease. “I didn’t expect to end up a mediator, though.”
