![Newbie Guide](https://i.imgur.com/Uy7hIlu.png")
Post by Yakito on May 8, 2024 12:52:20 GMT -5
Plant was a planet whose recent history was characterized by a rift, a chasm separating two societies: The Saiyan Kingdom punctuated by a harsh lifestyle creating simian warriors renowned across the galaxy and the Tuffle Republic whose scientific prowess rivaled even the combined knowledge of the Imperial hegemony. Even though the war between these two civilizations was now over, a lingering feeling of tension and resentment was still permeating both sides of the planet.
Such rancor was begrudgingly discarded to do business when one entered the place on Plant where the dichotomy was effectively null and void: The Mercenary Outpost of the Saiba Waste, an infamous location across the planet and the galaxy at large for the many opportunistic folks seeking to make their fortune by selling their talent there.
Yakito’s stay on Plant was supposed to be a vacation, but he couldn’t possibly relinquish the thought who pathologically came back to sing between his ears every now and then: "For the Empire, for Ticoga, for my ma!" He owed them much, and it was by consolidating the Empire’s strength and making sure that it was a safe place that he would give them thanks - aside from Marian, his mom, who would also enjoy some alone time with her son soon. The cutthroats and hardened warriors that were present within the establishment certainly weren’t cut from the same cloth as him, but maybe that amongst the flux of insidious trash he’d find a treasure.
It was nothing more than wishful thinking at this point, but the Armored Squadron needed some new members — especially after what transpired on Namek during "Operation Red Day" — so it is with a poker face that Yakito stepped into one of the many bars found amongst the dusty streets of this sleazy settlement. Almost immediately, the short blonde Earthling’s entrance warped the whole room around his presence. Those who were conversing became silent, those who were playing cards set their hands face-down, and a few of the ones indulging in the pleasures of alcohol spat in their mugs. All of them were glaring at the small-yet-muscular man whose androgynous features were clad in a unitard gi sashed at the waist.
Undeterred by this mere pretense of intimidation — the scouter attachment of his rebreather scanned the room with a flicker of light and found no noteworthy threats — Yakito made his way to the bar where he sat down on a stool that required him to hop. "Water." He asked calmly, his gaze kept low to avoid triggering the massive Heran barman who stood before him. The blue-skinned Alien grunted and shook his head."Nay. We dun’t like dirty mongrel dogs of the Empire in these parts." A large finger pointed at the beret emblazoned with the trademark insignia of the Empire Squadron that Yakito proudly bore atop his long mane of golden hair.
Yakito scoffed at the notion and rolled his eyes. "Dude, I’m not doing this right now. Just give me my drink and I’ll leave." The Heran’s judgmental stare hardened into a leer. With a resounding holler, the barmen summoned his cronies: A mountain of a Saiyan and disheveled Heran lass with her grasp tight on a cutlass. "Are you serious? I have money and all…" The Heran barman shot Yakito a nasty grin, making his intentions beyond clear.
With a profuse sigh, Yakito massaged his knuckles to make them crack. "Alright. This area is under no jurisdiction, so I’m not liable for teaching you ugly sods some manners, right?" They all leaped simultaneously for a three-pronged attack. Yakito’s figure momentarily became a blur before reappearing into his seat in a nonchalant position. Almost as if they were compelled by some kind of invisible force, the three aggressors were halted in their impetus, then they all fell to the floor with a loud thud. The whole bar was left speechless, exchanging whispers and looks as this runt of an Imperial made his way past the counter to serve himself a glass of water.
Such rancor was begrudgingly discarded to do business when one entered the place on Plant where the dichotomy was effectively null and void: The Mercenary Outpost of the Saiba Waste, an infamous location across the planet and the galaxy at large for the many opportunistic folks seeking to make their fortune by selling their talent there.
Yakito’s stay on Plant was supposed to be a vacation, but he couldn’t possibly relinquish the thought who pathologically came back to sing between his ears every now and then: "For the Empire, for Ticoga, for my ma!" He owed them much, and it was by consolidating the Empire’s strength and making sure that it was a safe place that he would give them thanks - aside from Marian, his mom, who would also enjoy some alone time with her son soon. The cutthroats and hardened warriors that were present within the establishment certainly weren’t cut from the same cloth as him, but maybe that amongst the flux of insidious trash he’d find a treasure.
It was nothing more than wishful thinking at this point, but the Armored Squadron needed some new members — especially after what transpired on Namek during "Operation Red Day" — so it is with a poker face that Yakito stepped into one of the many bars found amongst the dusty streets of this sleazy settlement. Almost immediately, the short blonde Earthling’s entrance warped the whole room around his presence. Those who were conversing became silent, those who were playing cards set their hands face-down, and a few of the ones indulging in the pleasures of alcohol spat in their mugs. All of them were glaring at the small-yet-muscular man whose androgynous features were clad in a unitard gi sashed at the waist.
Undeterred by this mere pretense of intimidation — the scouter attachment of his rebreather scanned the room with a flicker of light and found no noteworthy threats — Yakito made his way to the bar where he sat down on a stool that required him to hop. "Water." He asked calmly, his gaze kept low to avoid triggering the massive Heran barman who stood before him. The blue-skinned Alien grunted and shook his head."Nay. We dun’t like dirty mongrel dogs of the Empire in these parts." A large finger pointed at the beret emblazoned with the trademark insignia of the Empire Squadron that Yakito proudly bore atop his long mane of golden hair.
Yakito scoffed at the notion and rolled his eyes. "Dude, I’m not doing this right now. Just give me my drink and I’ll leave." The Heran’s judgmental stare hardened into a leer. With a resounding holler, the barmen summoned his cronies: A mountain of a Saiyan and disheveled Heran lass with her grasp tight on a cutlass. "Are you serious? I have money and all…" The Heran barman shot Yakito a nasty grin, making his intentions beyond clear.
With a profuse sigh, Yakito massaged his knuckles to make them crack. "Alright. This area is under no jurisdiction, so I’m not liable for teaching you ugly sods some manners, right?" They all leaped simultaneously for a three-pronged attack. Yakito’s figure momentarily became a blur before reappearing into his seat in a nonchalant position. Almost as if they were compelled by some kind of invisible force, the three aggressors were halted in their impetus, then they all fell to the floor with a loud thud. The whole bar was left speechless, exchanging whispers and looks as this runt of an Imperial made his way past the counter to serve himself a glass of water.
PL: 100,000 (Yakito is in his Base form.)
UT used: N/A
KP: 6/6 - MP: 0/6 - HP: 000/250
Traits: Bare-Knuckle Brawler [ACTIVE], Self-Sacrifice [1/1], Turtle School Secrets [INACTIVE]
Utility Items: Jet Squirrel, Scouter, Weighted Teddy [INACTIVE]
WC: 680
TWC: 680
UT used: N/A
KP: 6/6 - MP: 0/6 - HP: 000/250
Traits: Bare-Knuckle Brawler [ACTIVE], Self-Sacrifice [1/1], Turtle School Secrets [INACTIVE]
Utility Items: Jet Squirrel, Scouter, Weighted Teddy [INACTIVE]
WC: 680
TWC: 680
