Post by Onnio on Mar 27, 2021 13:15:48 GMT -5
Like most Saiyans, Onnio worked for a living. And like most Saiyans, that work involved fighting.
Today at work, Onnio was slugging it out with an alien twice his size named Dolando, one that would have reminded Onnio of a bulky pink pineapple, if he'd ever seen a pineapple. But he hadn't, so there was no charm to the struggle as he fended off the powerful swipes of the bigger fighter, using his speed to offset the strength of his opponent.
A small crowd of onlookers made a loose circle around their bout, mildly curious. Fighting was a common occurrence here in the Outpost, especially the contracted kind. One noble doesn't like another, one noble disagrees with another, and instead of fighting themselves some cheap (and expendable) champions are hired here in the Wastes to fight on the spot, to settle out their differences via faraway proxy.
It was this kind of fight that Onnio was in now. He had already forgotten the name of the Saiyan noble family whose honor he was fighting for. All his contracts came with money-numbers at the end, and that was mostly what he remembered. This was a high number, so he had to win the fight, and he had to make a good show of it if he wanted their business again.
Today, too, his boss was watching. Onnio didn't really like that. It made him nervous, made him second guess.
Calcot, the head of the Buster Corps warband, had once been an Elite, but resting on his success had sagged his powers. He was out of shape, to put it mildly, and his battle point was now embarrassingly low, lower than even Onnio's, but Calcot's bygone glory days glowed enough for him to retain the leadership. Sitting in the dust, a bowl of deep-fried saiba-fish resting on the bloated sack of his belly, Calcot noisily slurped and crunched at a carapace while uninterestedly watching the action.
Onnio blocked out his surroundings and tried to focus on the fight. It hadn't badly winded him, Dolando was too slow for that, but he was hot and sweaty, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Since this was a duel of honor, and not about power or money, the things nobles truly cared about, it wasn't a duel to the death. But even in deathless duels, mistakes happened. They were striking at each other with enough force to split the stony earth when their attacks were turned. Mistakes happened.
Onnio fought as he usually did, running through simpler attacks first, watching the opponent's counterattacks, feeling for weak points and gaps in their style. Dolando was a good fighter -- he knew what was coming next -- but he wasn't as fast as Onnio, and hadn't fought him before. When both fighters were learning each other, speed became a more important factor. Sensing this disadvantage, Dolando lurched forward with an unexpected burst of anger, hoping to scare Onnio off and gain control. Onnio didn't let him, and it flustered Dolando further.
Their limbs were clashing rapidly now, the dead earth beneath them trembling from the exchange. The crowd wooed. It was the kind of fight they liked, lots of lightning follow-through with no deliberation in between.
Dolando began to rush his counters, leaving himself open. Twice, Onnio passed up the chance to break Dolando's spiky left arm. Other fighters might have struck to gain an advantage, but Onnio wanted to end the bout with one spectacular flourish, not with stacks of injuries to his opponent. Besides, Dolando was a worker, just like Onnio. Onnio didn't want to bust him up so badly that he couldn't find new jobs.
"You're taking too long, Onnio! I've ran out of fish!" Calcot bellowed.
The words startled Onnio, breaking his shield of concentration. A particularly hard punch from Dolando drove him back, and the heel of his boot caught on an upturned stone. Losing balance, he found himself swept away by Dolando's surging onslaught. A huge fist hammered into his stomach, doubling him over and knocking his helmet off. A second punch crashed into his cheek and knocked him senseless.
Falling to the ground, Onnio gazed up dumbly as Dolando's huge boot crushed his body down into the dirt. He could have fired a ki blast to turn the tables, but that maybe would have killed Dolando, and so wouldn't have been fair.
I lost! Onnio thought in disbelief.
Grinning widely, Dolando echoed his thoughts. "You lost."
From the crowd, he heard his boss yelling. "You lost! You idiot!"
Letting himself sink, Onnio fell back in pain and exhaustion. It looks like the Buster Corps wouldn't be getting another contract from these nobles, after all.
Today at work, Onnio was slugging it out with an alien twice his size named Dolando, one that would have reminded Onnio of a bulky pink pineapple, if he'd ever seen a pineapple. But he hadn't, so there was no charm to the struggle as he fended off the powerful swipes of the bigger fighter, using his speed to offset the strength of his opponent.
A small crowd of onlookers made a loose circle around their bout, mildly curious. Fighting was a common occurrence here in the Outpost, especially the contracted kind. One noble doesn't like another, one noble disagrees with another, and instead of fighting themselves some cheap (and expendable) champions are hired here in the Wastes to fight on the spot, to settle out their differences via faraway proxy.
It was this kind of fight that Onnio was in now. He had already forgotten the name of the Saiyan noble family whose honor he was fighting for. All his contracts came with money-numbers at the end, and that was mostly what he remembered. This was a high number, so he had to win the fight, and he had to make a good show of it if he wanted their business again.
Today, too, his boss was watching. Onnio didn't really like that. It made him nervous, made him second guess.
Calcot, the head of the Buster Corps warband, had once been an Elite, but resting on his success had sagged his powers. He was out of shape, to put it mildly, and his battle point was now embarrassingly low, lower than even Onnio's, but Calcot's bygone glory days glowed enough for him to retain the leadership. Sitting in the dust, a bowl of deep-fried saiba-fish resting on the bloated sack of his belly, Calcot noisily slurped and crunched at a carapace while uninterestedly watching the action.
Onnio blocked out his surroundings and tried to focus on the fight. It hadn't badly winded him, Dolando was too slow for that, but he was hot and sweaty, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Since this was a duel of honor, and not about power or money, the things nobles truly cared about, it wasn't a duel to the death. But even in deathless duels, mistakes happened. They were striking at each other with enough force to split the stony earth when their attacks were turned. Mistakes happened.
Onnio fought as he usually did, running through simpler attacks first, watching the opponent's counterattacks, feeling for weak points and gaps in their style. Dolando was a good fighter -- he knew what was coming next -- but he wasn't as fast as Onnio, and hadn't fought him before. When both fighters were learning each other, speed became a more important factor. Sensing this disadvantage, Dolando lurched forward with an unexpected burst of anger, hoping to scare Onnio off and gain control. Onnio didn't let him, and it flustered Dolando further.
Their limbs were clashing rapidly now, the dead earth beneath them trembling from the exchange. The crowd wooed. It was the kind of fight they liked, lots of lightning follow-through with no deliberation in between.
Dolando began to rush his counters, leaving himself open. Twice, Onnio passed up the chance to break Dolando's spiky left arm. Other fighters might have struck to gain an advantage, but Onnio wanted to end the bout with one spectacular flourish, not with stacks of injuries to his opponent. Besides, Dolando was a worker, just like Onnio. Onnio didn't want to bust him up so badly that he couldn't find new jobs.
"You're taking too long, Onnio! I've ran out of fish!" Calcot bellowed.
The words startled Onnio, breaking his shield of concentration. A particularly hard punch from Dolando drove him back, and the heel of his boot caught on an upturned stone. Losing balance, he found himself swept away by Dolando's surging onslaught. A huge fist hammered into his stomach, doubling him over and knocking his helmet off. A second punch crashed into his cheek and knocked him senseless.
Falling to the ground, Onnio gazed up dumbly as Dolando's huge boot crushed his body down into the dirt. He could have fired a ki blast to turn the tables, but that maybe would have killed Dolando, and so wouldn't have been fair.
I lost! Onnio thought in disbelief.
Grinning widely, Dolando echoed his thoughts. "You lost."
From the crowd, he heard his boss yelling. "You lost! You idiot!"
Letting himself sink, Onnio fell back in pain and exhaustion. It looks like the Buster Corps wouldn't be getting another contract from these nobles, after all.