Post by Mato on Apr 9, 2017 9:00:40 GMT
Name: Toma "Mato" "Waterfield"
Nicknames/Titles: Mato
Race: Saiyan
Species Abilities:
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Personality: Mato is blunt, relatively idiotic with his ideas, and outright careless. Taking any direct insult, even as a joke, to heart, the Saiyan is likely to smack a bitch if need be. Fortunately, this mostly applies to his strength and occasionally little else. Driven by impulse in combat, little legitimate or formal technique would be evident; conversation being no different. Mato despises complaining.
...Mato even slapped someone whilst waiting in line as they complained.
For over two hours.
Incessantly.
Appearance:
History:
As a rather typical infant Saiyan soldier, Mato was cast off into the cosmos for some mission or another. Bearing the task, the Saiyan prepared to take his leave. Thrust into a cramped pod, forcefully placed into unconsciousness, the lone Saiyan would be directed to a fairly distant planet. The dirt ball of "Earth", no less. Little detail was provided for the soldier beforehand, excluding the whole planetary conquest shtick. Roughly a year would pass before Mato arrived within a few thousand miles of the planet's crust.
An uninhabited forest was intruded upon by a crashing pod. Erupting with excess heat and a thunderous boom, the Saiyan pod creaked open. Uncertain of where to begin with his mission, the child flailed about aimlessly for hours. Animals briefly poked their heads into the pod, some sniffing at the child. Unfortunately, those that did so were wrestled into the ground and harvested for food by instinct. Children get hungry.
Weeks pass, with food, clothing, and some sort of cabin being "acquired" in the meantime. The child had wandered aimlessly, barely mustering the will to pseudo-crawl through the foliage. Minimal interaction with other Humans, if any at all, made Mato entirely unknown to the immense population. Once again (ignorantly) accepting the circumstances, Mato continued to wait for another full moon. Years would pass, however, as Mato never truly knew when or where to search for a full moon. Little thought was put into the subject, and extreme amounts of time was wasted. The cabin held many resources, albeit dusty and vaguely misused. It was neither architecturally secure or healthy to remain in such a cabin, given it's state of semi-disarray, yet the Saiyan stuck to it. By the time he was a few years older than eleven, something bewildering occurred.
Mato makes contact with a particularly boisterous woman. There's barely less than two weeks remaining before the next full moon. Brief interaction left with curiosity in one mind and a hasty retreat in mind for the other. Later, a second interaction spawns ire within Mato, resulting in a fit of punching. Yet, the woman curbs the Saiyan, incessantly flipping him around via judo throws; conveniently under the "guise" of self-defense. Mato was removed from the immediate area, soon retreating to the cabin he acquired. Unfortunately, the woman's curiosity had erupted over the side of her mind, urging her to follow the impulsive alien.
Catching Mato within his cabin, the woman found cobwebs and rotting wood surrounding him. A tattered blanket and dusty armor beside worn clothing. With immense alarm, Mato held up a vague excuse as a defensive measure. To his dismay, it wasn't believable enough to the dastardly woman. Yet, there wasn't aggression, nor disgust for lying. The woman, upon such a sight, thought that Mato had fought because he was poor; unable to work with much else. Even with that, there was more.
"You seem lonely. You want to stay at my house?"
"...What?"
"Kinda cold here, so, you know."
"Well, no. Not worth it."
...
...
"And that, kid, is how I met your Mother."
""
A minuscule infant flailed within a crib, blissfully unaware of what his Father had told him. Bearing a power similar to his Father's, a child named Celmaru Anton Waterfield gazed around him, still ignorant of Mato's journey. With a sudden laughter from below him, Celia Waterfield basked in the nostalgic afterglow of her past interactions with her equally boisterous husband.
Techniques:
"KICKING WHILE DROPPING!" [T1]
Mato does a dropkick; I don't know what you expected.
"KICKING -- WITH EFFORT!" [T2]
Mato front-flips, then does a dropkick.
Still don't know what you expected.
Weakness:
"Secure" Attachments: Mato is rather aggressive towards anyone that may steal away anyone close to him; particularly so for "mates".
Impulsiveness: Mato can create far too many terrible situations on his own due to his impulsive nature. Actions aren't thought through and scenarios aren't determined beforehand; chaos may or may not ensue.
"THE FUCK IS A MAGIC": Mato doesn't understand magic. The End.
Literal Power Levels: Mato is the one man that doesn't think Power Levels are bullshit.
Nicknames/Titles: Mato
Race: Saiyan
Species Abilities:
- Zenkai: When in a DE, Saiyans who manage to survive and make it out gain a Zenkai bonus. It is 10% of their gains, added onto their gains with no limit.
- Tail Weakness: Saiyans with their tails have a weakness to it being held or pulled. When pulled, they are at 1/2 power level until let go.
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Personality: Mato is blunt, relatively idiotic with his ideas, and outright careless. Taking any direct insult, even as a joke, to heart, the Saiyan is likely to smack a bitch if need be. Fortunately, this mostly applies to his strength and occasionally little else. Driven by impulse in combat, little legitimate or formal technique would be evident; conversation being no different. Mato despises complaining.
...Mato even slapped someone whilst waiting in line as they complained.
For over two hours.
Incessantly.
Appearance:
History:
As a rather typical infant Saiyan soldier, Mato was cast off into the cosmos for some mission or another. Bearing the task, the Saiyan prepared to take his leave. Thrust into a cramped pod, forcefully placed into unconsciousness, the lone Saiyan would be directed to a fairly distant planet. The dirt ball of "Earth", no less. Little detail was provided for the soldier beforehand, excluding the whole planetary conquest shtick. Roughly a year would pass before Mato arrived within a few thousand miles of the planet's crust.
An uninhabited forest was intruded upon by a crashing pod. Erupting with excess heat and a thunderous boom, the Saiyan pod creaked open. Uncertain of where to begin with his mission, the child flailed about aimlessly for hours. Animals briefly poked their heads into the pod, some sniffing at the child. Unfortunately, those that did so were wrestled into the ground and harvested for food by instinct. Children get hungry.
Weeks pass, with food, clothing, and some sort of cabin being "acquired" in the meantime. The child had wandered aimlessly, barely mustering the will to pseudo-crawl through the foliage. Minimal interaction with other Humans, if any at all, made Mato entirely unknown to the immense population. Once again (ignorantly) accepting the circumstances, Mato continued to wait for another full moon. Years would pass, however, as Mato never truly knew when or where to search for a full moon. Little thought was put into the subject, and extreme amounts of time was wasted. The cabin held many resources, albeit dusty and vaguely misused. It was neither architecturally secure or healthy to remain in such a cabin, given it's state of semi-disarray, yet the Saiyan stuck to it. By the time he was a few years older than eleven, something bewildering occurred.
Mato makes contact with a particularly boisterous woman. There's barely less than two weeks remaining before the next full moon. Brief interaction left with curiosity in one mind and a hasty retreat in mind for the other. Later, a second interaction spawns ire within Mato, resulting in a fit of punching. Yet, the woman curbs the Saiyan, incessantly flipping him around via judo throws; conveniently under the "guise" of self-defense. Mato was removed from the immediate area, soon retreating to the cabin he acquired. Unfortunately, the woman's curiosity had erupted over the side of her mind, urging her to follow the impulsive alien.
Catching Mato within his cabin, the woman found cobwebs and rotting wood surrounding him. A tattered blanket and dusty armor beside worn clothing. With immense alarm, Mato held up a vague excuse as a defensive measure. To his dismay, it wasn't believable enough to the dastardly woman. Yet, there wasn't aggression, nor disgust for lying. The woman, upon such a sight, thought that Mato had fought because he was poor; unable to work with much else. Even with that, there was more.
"You seem lonely. You want to stay at my house?"
"...What?"
"Kinda cold here, so, you know."
"Well, no. Not worth it."
...
...
"And that, kid, is how I met your Mother."
""
A minuscule infant flailed within a crib, blissfully unaware of what his Father had told him. Bearing a power similar to his Father's, a child named Celmaru Anton Waterfield gazed around him, still ignorant of Mato's journey. With a sudden laughter from below him, Celia Waterfield basked in the nostalgic afterglow of her past interactions with her equally boisterous husband.
Techniques:
"KICKING WHILE DROPPING!" [T1]
Mato does a dropkick; I don't know what you expected.
"KICKING -- WITH EFFORT!" [T2]
Mato front-flips, then does a dropkick.
Still don't know what you expected.
Weakness:
"Secure" Attachments: Mato is rather aggressive towards anyone that may steal away anyone close to him; particularly so for "mates".
Impulsiveness: Mato can create far too many terrible situations on his own due to his impulsive nature. Actions aren't thought through and scenarios aren't determined beforehand; chaos may or may not ensue.
"THE FUCK IS A MAGIC": Mato doesn't understand magic. The End.
Literal Power Levels: Mato is the one man that doesn't think Power Levels are bullshit.
Pre-Post Solo:
"The fuck."
"What the fuck."
"What is this?"
"What is happening?"
"Dammit chest stop doing that!"
A soldier writhed in aggravating confusion. An unfamiliar sensation was overcoming him all too swiftly; an idea of a person infesting his mind. The soldier's innards felt warm, fuzzy, a bit too active. The Saiyan soldier Mato had little idea as to what he was experiencing; yet it infuriated him to no end. There was a desperate call for it to cease, however it was to do nothing but the opposite. Swearing was audible even outside the room Mato sat within. The Saiyan couldn't describe it; little articulation was possible with this anomaly.
"What the hell did that woman do to me?!"
Thoughts of the woman in question invaded Mato's brain; it was then that his facial features felt intolerably warm. Further flailing ensued, with incoherent ramblings following suit. The impulsive Saiyan warrior resorted to the floor, attempting to escape his evident issue as he wriggled about aimlessly. Mato could've sworn that he already went over one-hundred-eighty degrees as he unintentionally rotated. A growl emanated from the floor, it's origin soon grumbling after doing so.
A heart beat with a furious desire, yet the cause was seemingly indeterminable to Mato. Was it the woman? Did she drug him with something? Did the Humans infect him with a disease? Why the --
"Wha-?"
A vibration rattled a nightstand nearby. A violet phone rumbled with a soft vibration. The display alerted that "Mom" was calling the smartphone. It was that woman's phone. Deciding that his own confused mind was being ultimately stupid as hell, Mato flicked to the right and began a call with the woman's mother.
"Hello there honey, now could you please remind me --"
"WOMAN WHAT AM I FEELING RIGHT NOW?!"
"Wha -- Oh my, uh --"
"HELP WHAT IS HAPPENING!?"
"Is -- Is that you, Mato?"
"YES."
"W-What is it, dear?"
"MY CHEST HURTS, MY FACE FEELS WARM, AND MY BODY FEELS STUPIDLY WEAK WHEN I'M NEAR YOUR OFFSPRING!"
"My daughter?"
"YES. HELP!"
"That sounds like you like her quite a bit, Mato."
"I ONLY DON'T WANT TO BEAT HER UP."
"...That's a good start?"
"I DON'T WANT TO START ANYTHING! I WANT THIS TO END!"
"Please, dear, just calm down and --"
Mato's eyes only twitched in response.
"-- And take a deep breath, just a few to start."
Forced breaths were audible from the Saiyan's nostrils. They were seemingly labored and entirely unnatural.
"THIS ISN'T WORKING!"
"Slower breaths, Mato."
"NO PROMISES."
Another attempt at breathing occurred. This second attempt yielded more satisfying results. The worry was briefly quelled, yet the confusion still reigned with a fierce flurry of extreme uncertainty. Mato only desired to relieve himself of this bother. Why would breathing need to be a part of this? The woman past the phone continued.
"Now Mato, I'm not sure if you want to hear this, but I think you may just be a bit infatuated with Celia."
"...What?"
"Its possible that you're infatuated with Celia."
"What is this 'infatuated' you speak of?"
"Have you ever experienced love, Mato?"
"What's that?"
"You -- You don't know what love is?"
"I fight people."
"I --"
A suppressed sigh escaped the woman's nostrils.
"Dearie me this might be troublesome."
* * *
'Do I really have complicated emotion like that?'
The Saiyan soldier contemplated his condition, a street fighter attempting to connect a strike. Mato was spending his time averting the bulky fist of the opposing fighter, barely paying much mind to him as he thought. The haphazard explanation the woman's mother gave him was enlightening, albeit terrifying. Attachment wasn't something that the soldier had in mind for this seemingly brief trip. Adapting to the environment and civilization was enough for Mato, emotional baggage was something to be entirely avoided, surely. A distant gaze pierced through the struggling fighter; his ability wavering as the Saiyan seemingly refused to fight back.
"A-Are you going to fight back sometime today?"
The warrior returned to reality.
"Huh? Oh, wait a second, yeah."
A broad hook slammed into the street fighter, a tooth escaping his gums before he flew across the pavement.
'Maybe I should bash my head into the wall later. That always works.'
"Dude I think you broke his jaw."
"I think I DID NOT!"
'Now where was I? Oh right; the fuck is complex emotion?'
* * *
Mato once again found himself upon a floor, albeit sprawled out rather than curled up. Instead of rotating, he merely sat flat as he stared at the ceiling. No solution came about over the recent course of time, particularly so over the affliction he had contracted. The soldier absentmindedly fiddled with a bed comforter beside him, flicking and picking at it periodically. Suddenly, a pair of eyes peeked at Mato from above. In an instinctive reaction, the Saiyan flung himself into the wall; a scarlet hue searing his facial features with a swift stroke. Mental and murmured swears alike rang about from Mato as the pair of eyes softly yelped. A woman peered at the startled warrior.
"I'm not that terrifying, am I?"
"Fucshiamnasitch --"
"Don't you combine curse words at me!"
"BLEAH!"
"NYEAH!"
Feminine facial features further revealed themselves from the bed's comfort. Celia Waterfield, the source of Mato's "ailment", thrust out a tongue at the air; directed at the groaning Saiyan. Rolling over onto his back, continuing to groan, Mato refused to make any eye contact. Celia shuffled briefly, placing her arms betwixt the comforter and her chin to rest more comfortably. An inquiry rang about within her mind, preparing to burst forth at the soldier.
"So when are you going to tell them~?"
"Tell who what?"
"You know...that thing~"
"What thing?"
"The result of that thing you did when you were feeling like that thing."
"Beating around the bush isn't going to get us anywhere, woman!"
"That whole thing about you coming from space?"
"I'll give them a few decades before I ever tell anyone but you that crap."
"And what makes me an exception, hmmmm~?"
"You never stop asking me questions. And -- and you always speak about stupid, Earth-y things."
And what if I told you I'm pregnant?"
There was a pause, albeit a brief one.
"Hi pregnant, I'm Dad --"
"..."
"..."
Celia could barely retain her laughter. The horrendous realization washed over Mato like a tsunami over South City; perhaps even more so than that. Palms concealed a fragile dam of laughter from Celia, yet Mato had only begun to notice what's become of him.
"FUCK, THAT BULLSHIT WORKS NOW."
"PFFFAHAHAAHAHAAA~!"
"DAMMIT!"
Between their child and the pregnancy beforehand, Mato had eventually, and fully realized that there may actually be more than reproduction to retain a species. A sort of boiling, unpredictable mess of shite that can never be evidently prevented or processed without intense thought. The idea of going beyond reproduction for the sake of a species; an obligation. A requirement. Something out of a seemingly ridiculous free will and stocked vastly beyond what should be tolerated with emotions and unconditional ideals. Be it successful or not, its likely bliss until the end.
Love.
"..."
"What a bunch of shit, am I right?"