Post by Tarro on Sept 19, 2023 19:08:10 GMT -5
Whispers filled the streets of Radditsu village.
Over the last couple of months, the dissatisfied party has become more active. People are discreetly invited out of establishments and introduced to the resistance effort. Due to the appeal of faction’s ideals to the low-class majority of the town, their numbers have been mounting rapidly.
In recent weeks, the Chiefdom has extended its sphere of influence to other towns across the planet, targeting the vulnerable groups of saiyan society: the low-class majority and a specific few middle-classed saiyans.
The whispers carried by the wind have become louder as of late at the birthplace of the uprising.
It was past midnight. A light suddenly flicked to life, contrasting with the dead of night. The chirping of insects outside the town’s bar was barely audible once the meeting between the party began, not because of the volume they were using but due to how focused everybody was.
Tarro began this meeting, which took place every few weeks as he had other methods to be filled in, by calling out the names of people who he had made responsible for certain tasks.
“How are our plans coming along?” he asked. He was sat at a table with the bunch of them, with the rest of the members surrounding them, listening in.
“We’ve gained some insight on how the tuffles are doing. They have no representative for the time being. The last candidate they had was suicidal, and, well… You can guess how that ended.” The balding man with hair to the sides of his head and a claw scar at his forehead chuckled. “He was the one responsible for some bombing at the capital. Caused quite a bit of a scene before dying.”
“About that… I’ve gathered he may have been trying to sever the relationship between saiyans and tuffles. Not that it matters… There is no relationship to sever,” tuned in another one, whose name he’d called on.
“Hm… Good.” His gaze turned from these two to the others that sat with him.
“Are… we going through with it, then?” The teenager, no older than sixteen, asked him. He wore a troubled expression.
“Indeed, we are.” He gave an affirmative nod.. “We’ve stalled for long enough. There was no harm to it, though. We’ve prepared as well as we could." Tarro sat with his hands together, his fingers interlaced.
Some of the people among the crowds–those he hadn’t interacted with as much, a majority of whom were new faces, were anxious and hesitant about his decision.
Over these last few months he’d learned to pick up on subtle details like these to know when to give a speech in order to reinstaurate their morale. The spikey-haired soldier cleared his throat raspily and began, “do not fear a thing, men. This is the first step we are to take if we’re going to rid ourselves of this tuffle menace. The clock is ticking, and if we don’t put them under us, they’ll put us under them.” It was a fundamental survival fact.
Out of all the consecutive generations wrapped up in this conflict, theirs has proven to be the biggest let-down. They had defeated the enemy in war but their King failed to enforce demands on them and proceeded to go undercover, ceding the throne to a technology-employing halfblood of sorts whose best interests lied with the tufflekin. She was no rightful Queen of the saiyans, whatever she had to say on the matter.
The head of the operation went to address other questions that arose amongst the people.
Over the last couple of months, the dissatisfied party has become more active. People are discreetly invited out of establishments and introduced to the resistance effort. Due to the appeal of faction’s ideals to the low-class majority of the town, their numbers have been mounting rapidly.
In recent weeks, the Chiefdom has extended its sphere of influence to other towns across the planet, targeting the vulnerable groups of saiyan society: the low-class majority and a specific few middle-classed saiyans.
The whispers carried by the wind have become louder as of late at the birthplace of the uprising.
It was past midnight. A light suddenly flicked to life, contrasting with the dead of night. The chirping of insects outside the town’s bar was barely audible once the meeting between the party began, not because of the volume they were using but due to how focused everybody was.
Tarro began this meeting, which took place every few weeks as he had other methods to be filled in, by calling out the names of people who he had made responsible for certain tasks.
“How are our plans coming along?” he asked. He was sat at a table with the bunch of them, with the rest of the members surrounding them, listening in.
“We’ve gained some insight on how the tuffles are doing. They have no representative for the time being. The last candidate they had was suicidal, and, well… You can guess how that ended.” The balding man with hair to the sides of his head and a claw scar at his forehead chuckled. “He was the one responsible for some bombing at the capital. Caused quite a bit of a scene before dying.”
“About that… I’ve gathered he may have been trying to sever the relationship between saiyans and tuffles. Not that it matters… There is no relationship to sever,” tuned in another one, whose name he’d called on.
“Hm… Good.” His gaze turned from these two to the others that sat with him.
“Are… we going through with it, then?” The teenager, no older than sixteen, asked him. He wore a troubled expression.
“Indeed, we are.” He gave an affirmative nod.. “We’ve stalled for long enough. There was no harm to it, though. We’ve prepared as well as we could." Tarro sat with his hands together, his fingers interlaced.
Some of the people among the crowds–those he hadn’t interacted with as much, a majority of whom were new faces, were anxious and hesitant about his decision.
Over these last few months he’d learned to pick up on subtle details like these to know when to give a speech in order to reinstaurate their morale. The spikey-haired soldier cleared his throat raspily and began, “do not fear a thing, men. This is the first step we are to take if we’re going to rid ourselves of this tuffle menace. The clock is ticking, and if we don’t put them under us, they’ll put us under them.” It was a fundamental survival fact.
Out of all the consecutive generations wrapped up in this conflict, theirs has proven to be the biggest let-down. They had defeated the enemy in war but their King failed to enforce demands on them and proceeded to go undercover, ceding the throne to a technology-employing halfblood of sorts whose best interests lied with the tufflekin. She was no rightful Queen of the saiyans, whatever she had to say on the matter.
The head of the operation went to address other questions that arose amongst the people.
Power Level: 20,000
Current Transformation: N/A
Items: Scouter, armor lining
WC: 607
Current Transformation: N/A
Items: Scouter, armor lining
WC: 607