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Post by Lord Zasham on Jun 7, 2015 9:05:58 GMT -5
Hovering over Piccolo City, the man formed gravity streams to propel him in flight, an act he found great joy in as the wind brushed across his face. Zasham never got over how strange the city was when compared to the rest of the planet. It was but a single technological hub in a sea of blue trees and domed huts. The aliens were another strange feature, as the spaceport was also located in the bustling metropolis. The mismatch of architectures was truly interesting, and confusing, though; a result of the port around which the city grew. Nonetheless he found his way to the home of the Warrior Clan with ease, having spent a month training with all four of New Namek’s powerful leaders; Batto, Nohkan, Pitka and Cudikyl.
Allowing his heavy weights to help drag him down, he lowered to the front steps of the dojo before walking in, allowing his senses to guide him to his Master. It only took a few moments before he was before the rigid Master of the Warrior Clan, “Master Nohkan, forgive me for arriving unannounced, but I need your help and guidance,” he said as he bowed courteously to one of his several Masters. “I have recently become a leader myself, but I need the tools to protect them. Batto can teach to heal but I must be able to stop them from being hurt if at all possible,” Zasham added before letting out a breath. Nohkan’s intense aura always made him a little nervous around the man.
“If you could spare the time I’d like to finish training for the Multi-Form technique. Months ago I had a mission and was unable to complete training with either you or Master Batto, but I am here now to master it. I can think of no better way to protect as many people as possible then being in four places at once,” he stopped then, biting his lip for a moment. He had felt as he had already begun to ramble, despite his honesty. Or rather due to his honesty. Though afraid of rejection, given he had only given himself a day on the planet to learn the necessary abilities. More so, he hoped that in that day the two clan masters could purify him of his deficiencies as a leader; Batto spiritually while Nohkan physically. Tycho’s sense of duty to his kinigos carried over, leaving Zasham committed to both them and those of Alpha Prime.
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Nohkan (NPC)
Yamcha
You call yourself a Warrior? I am the warrior!
Posts: 14
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Post by Nohkan (NPC) on Jul 8, 2015 21:31:13 GMT -5
The arena was quiet, if you did not count the groaning of the students that lay on the floor in front of Master Nohkan. There could be no softness when it came to the warrior way. Those who trained with him would learn that, even if he had to beat it in to them with every lesson until they understood. The master sat cross-legged with his students laying defeated all around him. A sudden surge of familiar energy made one of his eye open slightly.
The human was back, and in desperate need of training if his words and posture were to be believed. The newcomer bowed before Nohkan, who did him the courtesy of opening both eyes. The name of Batto did little to inspire anything within Nohkan. The two ways, warrior and healer, cooperated, but in Nohkan’s mind there was little question who the better was. If you trained so that your opponent could not hurt you, there was no need for healing. The cold stare of the Red-scarred Namekian seemed to be able to pierce those that found itself under it.
The human asked to continue his training. There could be no doubt he was much stronger than before, but the last time he had been unable to finish his training. Would this time be the same? Did the boy deserve a second chance? Rumors of the young man and a Saiyan taking over Omega Prime had reached his ears. If that was true, if it could be, the young man would need every bit of help he could get.
Wordlessly Nohkan would nod, and motion for the boy to stand in the center of the training circle.
“Up.” The groans silenced and the four young Namekian’s surround him stood. Though it took a moment the warrior clan members did not protest. Their loyalty too great.
“Begin.” Nohkan nodded at the human. Time was of the essence. This would not be pleasant, but then his training session hardly ever were for those that sought to learn from him. But learn they did. As the human would.
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Post by Lord Zasham on Jul 13, 2015 2:28:55 GMT -5
Nohkan’s teaching style was much different than that of Batto’s. The leader of the healing clan verbalized much. His fellow master was quite the opposite. He spoke sparingly, let his glares and curt motions do the talking. And so be it too on this day as the namekian merely nodded once the man he knew as William Watson finished speaking. Then a series of short commands, his select rising students from near exhaustion to battle ready in seconds. He knew it was not in the nature of Nohkan’s student to not follow their master’s orders no matter their condition.
Though from his scans, they were still relatively battle ready, namekians being one of the quickest to regain its stamina than most. Save perhaps majins. As the four students circled the apparent human, his fine suit morphed into a black gi, sporting the kanji for the healing clan on the left side of his chest and center of his back. Nohkan was not one to waste time, and Zasham could no arguing, having little to waste. Closing his eyes he focused all his energy internally, before dividing it equally. By far the easiest way to divide one’s self. It was a process he had not been able to master during his time on New Namek. And he still had not.
As his body began to break apart, extra limbs popping free, trying to pull the rest of itself out of the host. Then, like a rubber band, they snapped back, leaving Zasham a little off footing. The students were not about to let an advantage slip away. They struck at once in his moment of weakness, landing blows at multiple points of his body. Despite being stronger, his weights restricted his base power allowing the combination to rival his total strength. It was just hard keeping up with all the blows, the man stepping back again and again as they rained strikes upon him. Simultaneously he blocked strikes to his face, side of head, gut and side with elbows and knees respectively. Pushing off their blows he shot back to compose himself.
“Damn it,” he growled in frustration over his failure.
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Nohkan (NPC)
Yamcha
You call yourself a Warrior? I am the warrior!
Posts: 14
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Post by Nohkan (NPC) on Jul 14, 2015 17:40:19 GMT -5
His students had been up and at the ready as his command, as was their way. They were trained to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, and many could continue right up until they dropped from shear exhaustion. These four were no different. Nohkan watched as they circled William Watson and began their attacks as the boy’s outfit shifted to one of the Healing clan. Nohkan’s lips cracked at the corner to a smile, but it only lasted for miliseconds. The students however took it as a challenge.
The human began to try and break himself apart, the multi-form technique. The effort did not work and it disoriented the human. The students took the initiative and charged, throwing blows and strikes at the young human. The Warrior clan leader’s cold stare never left the human’s form, effortlessly watching through the combat and tangle of limbs. When the human growled in frustration Nohkan shook his head.
“Not like that. Center yourself. Frustration is the enemy. How can one be four if one can’t even be one?”
Once more he whistled, and the students walked over to the wall and grabbed bo-staffs. Then they turned as one, in one snapping fluid motion with the bo-staffs pointed at William Watson.
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Post by Lord Zasham on Jul 16, 2015 15:10:15 GMT -5
For a moment, Zasham could have sworn he saw the white rabbit; a smile tug at Nohkan’s face. However it was briefer than a lightning strike and it left the apparent human entirely unsure if it had happened at all. Then again a group of namekian warriors attacking you sort of split your focus. Yet he could not split his body. Nohkan, in his simply and direct way, just shook his head and gave concise instructions. While they were simple and straightforward, it was also significant and insightful. As was his way; profound yet blunt.
So he pushed out the thoughts of failure and frustration from his mind, freeing it as much as he could. As his master had said, he needed to be one if he was to conquer this ability. He needed to be one before he could help many. While the students took their new blunt weapons in hand, Zasham merely closed his eyes and breathed. Slow, deliberate breaths. They slowly approached, but he knew, he could feel them, and even see them in his mind’s eye due to his three dimensional scanning. Yet he did not focus on them, only on himself, on the composite chaos which formed his mind.
The first came in hard, bringing the staff over his head and looking to bring it down upon Zasham’s. However it clanged as it struck the floor and bounced back a bit, rebounding off its own momentum. On either side of the staff stood an identical visage of an aged Will Watson; blackness seemed to pour from their right palms before taking the shape of matching weapons. Quickly they were upon him, not wanting him to split further, each pair taking a half. But the two Zashams were faster, despite their heavy weights, matching each strike with equivalent force. However they were playing defensively, being outnumbered two to one.
Jumping back, he once more closed his eyes and held his palms flat against one another before his chest. He looked to complete his training and split once more, to even the odds and end the fight. However this time he could not overcome himself, finding synchronicity far more difficult between physically separated minds. It was truly a new experience, existing simultaneously amidst different forms. One that left him unable to repeat the trick, proven when four staffs hit him all at once, two to each copy; one in the back of the head and the other to the gut. The idea was to rattle their cage whilst also knocking their wind out, an effective way to gain a temporary advantage over an enemy. There was no doubt that these were fine students of Master Nohkan, well versed in his style of combat.
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Nohkan (NPC)
Yamcha
You call yourself a Warrior? I am the warrior!
Posts: 14
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Post by Nohkan (NPC) on Jul 20, 2015 18:46:31 GMT -5
Nohkan’s stare continued to follow the human. It appeared as if his words had gotten through to him, as the boy slowed down and began to try and center himself. The Namekian’s approached with their newfound weapons in hand. The multi-form technique was not something easily mastered. To split one’s body into four separate beings, each with the ability to function, was no small task. It required a great deal of focus and mastery over one’s self.
The green-skinned master grunted in approval as one of his students brought his staff down as if to split the young human in twain. It did, or rather, William Watson had been successful. On either side of the strike appeared a figure identical to the other. Suddenly black energy created identical bo-staffs in each of his human students right hand and the battle was rejoined. Each William Watson fought a pair of Namekians and matched them blow-for-blow.
Nohkan’s eyes leapt with the William Watsons as they sought to distance themselves from the fight. Becoming two from one was difficult, becoming four from two was on another level. To try and spilt one’s spilt mind required an inner clarity and focus that one that could only be called a master martial artist could do. His Namekian students each struck a blow against the human student at the same time. Nohkan’s face did not even twitch.
The students backed away once more to let the Watson’s up and catch their breath, but at the second they did so the Namekians would be on them once more, Bo-staffs swinging with expert skill.
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Post by Lord Zasham on Jul 26, 2015 8:48:03 GMT -5
Zasham’s bell was significantly rung, each student going for a coup de grace before stopping out of nowhere, as if by Nohkan’s silent command. They stood aside for a moment, seemingly to allow the disguised majin a chance to collect himself. As the cobwebs cleared and he caught his breath from the simultaneous blows he once more tried to center himself, as his master had said. The problem was the focal point, finding something on which to centralize his concentrations. Two minds had to be one and two simultaneously if he was to take it to the next level.
Closing his eyes he chose his breathing as his focus. In and out, slow and steady. This was the first thing to synchronized. In and out, he repeated internally as he followed his own directions. Over a few seconds the two copies began matching one another breath for breath, in and out, until they came in line of one another. Until each inhale and exhale was a harmony between the duplicates. The warriors however were students of Nohkan, and like he they would force him to forge in the midst of flames. Leaping in once more, Zasham ignored them; focused only on inhaling and exhaling, in and out,.
Then he threw his hands to his sides and two became four, though the struggle was apparent as it seemed they would not split at first. They did, however, though each seemed to be dazed and confused. The students were upon him, overwhelming his already overstretched mind. None of the four could even keep up with the rain of blows, from the students, barely blocking a staff strike here or there. They seemed like ants separated from their colony, lost. After a few moments of bludgeoning they struck out, swinging their black staffs wildly, with that unrestrained strength that comes from a lack of control. Despite his weights, he tossed each aside with ease.
One was smashed in the gut so hard cracking ribs were audible, before he was skipped across the dojo like a rock over water. Another took a shot right to the side of the head, turning his light out instantly, as he fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, ready for a long nap. The third namekian’s staff was spit in two with a vicious downward blow from one of the black staffs, before a powerful boot struck his gut, knocking all the air from his body as he sailed across the room. The fourth fought valiantly but was sidestepped before taking a savage blow to the back of the head, dropping him unconscious almost instantly.
Then the Zashams fell to the floor, barely able to stand with the concentration split amongst four forms. One was on all fours, panting from the exhaustion from maintaining four bodies, another down to a knee, his head pressed against the staff and eyes closed as he tried to focus. A third was barely standing, leaning entirely against his own stick which he clung to while only the last stood unassisted, though his legs were shaking quite fiercely. His staff stood at the ready as they all faced Master Nohkan, breathing haggard and pained looks on all their faces.
To say he was having trouble mastering the full mult-form would be an understatement. It only highlighted the fact that he had trouble centering himself, amidst the legion of personalities which convoluted his mind.
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Nohkan (NPC)
Yamcha
You call yourself a Warrior? I am the warrior!
Posts: 14
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Post by Nohkan (NPC) on Jul 27, 2015 19:08:32 GMT -5
For a moment it looked like the human had achieved control, and had done the multi-form successfully. From two came four, though the illusion that control had been achieved was quickly dispelled. His students landed each strike they attempted. The human seemed to have no control.
Then things changed and the human began to strike back. There was no control present in the vicious strikes with the identical, though differently colored, weapons, but there was power and savagery. Nohkan’s four students were flown through the air or taken out one by one, though in rapid succession.
When the carnage ended each of the human’s forms were in different states of disrepair and exhaustion, with only one standing unaided, though even that one shook with the effort of it. They all faced Nohkan, whose face was still set into a line.
“Reform. Once more.”
With a whistle four fresh Namekians were brought into the room. They did not have weapons, though each of their fists were wrapped in chains.
“Once is not enough to call oneself a master.”
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Post by Lord Zasham on Jul 30, 2015 15:55:25 GMT -5
Nohkan’s face was emotionless as always, the straightest of lines marking his mouth as he glared down at his pupil. He barked an order and the exhausted foursome retreated within, slowly becoming intangible as their bodies became ki and rejoined a host. Four became two and then one returned to the other and he was whole once. Gasping for breath, Zasham felt as if had been choking for the past five minutes. Yet he struggled to his feet. He never thought, with what grace Nohkan used multi-form, that it could take such an awe striking toll on one’s self. Of course the namekian had mastered it, which he too would do during his return trip to the Omega System.
“Yes, sensei.”
The master of the warrior clan spoke once more and another wave of students came to his stern word; each of the eight fists wrapped in chains. Just when he had begun catching his breath once more he was told once was not enough. Zasham knew it to be true without question, though he hated it nonetheless in moments like this. Closing his eyes he brought his palms together silently with such speed to render it nearly unrecognizable to the four pupils whom stood his opposite. An instant later he threw his arms to his sides as he learned forward and let out a war cry; as if casting the others from body. Three took into the air from the one who’s feet remained on the ground.
“AHH!!!”
Another moment later their limbs were stretched out, the aerial multi-forms engaging the new opponents in long range fisticuffs. Meanwhile the Zasham on the ground charged at them, his fists hardening over with thick plating at they took the form of club arms. The strain was incredible, as the overbearing screams of insanity ate at the corners of his thinly stretched mind; yet the majin did all he could to ignore it and press on by focusing solely on the eyes of their prey. They pushed the chaos from their collective minds as they found a common enemy, unifying in an attempt to overwhelm and overcome the students. Weighted and quartered from his base power level put him barely above the quartet of warriors he now faced, but he went all out hoping that synchronizing over a single target would allow them to overpower the weight multi-form bore on his mind and ki.
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Nohkan (NPC)
Yamcha
You call yourself a Warrior? I am the warrior!
Posts: 14
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Post by Nohkan (NPC) on Jul 31, 2015 12:55:49 GMT -5
The human was determined. That much Nohkan was impressed with. Without objection the human reformed and then nodded towards the Namekian master. With much greater speed than the first time the human released three identical forms to that of himself. Nohkan nodded and kept his cross-legged seated position on the floor. Once one had already split himself to tear it once more was easier. The difficulty was mastering it.
The students ran at each other, the four humans and the four Namekians with chains on their hands. As they collided the master would stand. The human was impressive. Multi-form took a great centering of oneself. Fighting four at a time was difficult, fighting four at a time while trying to control four of yourself? Nohkan stood and watched closely the action.
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Post by Lord Zasham on Aug 11, 2015 0:15:21 GMT -5
The students met the raining fists with chain wrapped ones of their own, though it did little to the fists which molded around the blows, lessening their impact. However few landed the ones which did doing little damage, as so many simultaneous attacks was growingly stressful on his mind. Despite his massive computing power, his mind was incapable of acutely running four separate full-fledged processes at the same time. Yet he was determined.
The fourth Zasham ducked in and out the rain of blows, synchronicity allowing him to weave between his doubles’ strikes and dish out ones of his own to off balance students. His movements were rough and a tad sluggish, reminiscent of the aerial trio above, yet still effective against the weaker opponents. As the seconds ticked by, the strain seemed to lighten even a bit, though the pressure was still there. It was like mental muscle memory as his body adapted to being quartered. Four separate minds which shared one central consciousness. It was an amazing feat, and was unsurprisingly a move which the apparent human had to return to New Namek to master.
The heavily layered fists made for a hell of an impact when it actually met its target, as the namekians where whole and thus more in tune with their actions. It started with a glancing blow on a shoulder or leg, even the chest. After several moments though the fractional second delay caused by the split dissipated more and more, while the mounting damage grew and grew. The glancing strikes had done their damage; bruised shoulder and arms left their follow through weak, likewise legs made them slower. Bruised ribs shortened their breath.
Then it happened. They all seemed to click, and the fourth danced between the increasing velocity of raining blows, disappearing and reappearing amidst a sea of forearms and fists. One straight hammer blow to the chest sent one student clear across the dojo, a downward one to the face flattened the second against the ground with a resounding thud. The remaining two tried to team up on the thick fists double, landing several chained blows to the disguised majin, who’s shock absorbing skin still only took so much punishment.
Another flood of stretched punches from above again divide their attention, as they were forced to fend off the aerial attacks. They did not even see Zasham appear before them at the tail end of a zanzoken, only felt as the two club arms buried into their abdomens and the wind fled their lungs. Dropping to the floor gasping for airs, the extended arms retreated and thickly plated fists softened to their normal form. The three levitating doppelgangers lowered to the ground, lightly touching down beside their grounded brother. Eight eyes fell upon their Master as they took this brief respite to synchronize themselves. It was becoming easier and easier, they found, as they straddled that line of one and many.
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Nohkan (NPC)
Yamcha
You call yourself a Warrior? I am the warrior!
Posts: 14
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Post by Nohkan (NPC) on Sept 13, 2015 17:21:09 GMT -5
The boy was good, but he had known that before. Before when he had trained the young William Watson he knew that the boy had martial skill that few could rival in the galaxy. It seemed like powers like his were coming out of the wood work and starting to make the galaxy… well change was indeed happening to the universe. What all these powers meant for the future was still a mystery even to a master such as Nohkan. He could only hope that the boy meant to fight on the side of life.
Nohkan nodded as William Watson seemed to master himself. It was like watching a newborn calf begin to walk. At first there is uncertainty. Hesitation. But then as the young animal begins to get its legs under itself it finds more confidence and the movements become better, stronger. More sure footed. All eight eyes of the human fell upon the Namekian master.
“Very good. How do you feel?”
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Post by Lord Zasham on Sept 27, 2015 15:54:46 GMT -5
All four Zashams stood before their namekian master with bated breath. Nohkan was a hard one to read, which makes sense being the hard man that he is. However one could hardly the leader of Warrior Clan for being such a way. It was a result of their training and teachings. Though it made it impossible to know if he approved of something or downright hated it; his impeccable poker face was most feared.
When the words “Very good,” left his lips the four portions of the Lord of Alpha Prime loosened a collective sigh, the synchronicity of which mirrored their own. “I feel great, sensei!” said three immediately as they looked amongst themselves and smiled; he had spent months of training by himself after failing to perfect the technique during his previous visit to New Namek to no success. He felt the large burden on his shoulder lighten, if only a little. “Eh, I could go for a burger,” said the fourth, patting his stomach and staring out into space as he let out another sigh.
The fourth on either side both thwacked him on the back of the head at the simultaneously while the third yelled “Shaddap!” It seemed Masamune’s personality was more present than the rest in the complaining clone. However, despite their seemingly social dysfunction, Zasham was slowly feeling more and more unity amongst his split selves. It seemed to give a sort of clarity to him, as if slowly dissipating a thick haze which clouded his mind. For so long he had several personalities muddling it up, being divided felt almost… Good.
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