Post by Tartus on Nov 10, 2016 5:22:58 GMT -5
The smell of stale alcohol mixed in the air with Tartus' natural, unwashed aroma. The aging Saiyan found himself once more, with a glass of cheap spirits in his hand. A handful of other Saiyan's sat around the bar, with Tartus hiding away in a darkened corner. It was the middle of the day, bit like any good dive, there was no windows to allow natural light inside. It wasn't his favourite drinking hole, but with the recent change of ownership, it was one of the few places that were still willing to serve him.
Lifting the glass to his lips, Tartus gulped down a mouthful of the foul tasting beverage. Most would grimace as they forced it down their throat, but Tartus had become numb to the taste, as he had of many things.
The door to the bar opened slowly, daylight poured into the room, causing Tartus to squint his eyes until the door closed again. Stood in front of the door, a Saiyan warrior stood tall, garbed in pristine Low class armour. His hair was medium length, spiked directly backwards from his head. Tartus smirked at the sight, he looked as though he had left the pod door open as he fire through the atmosphere, with his hair blown back like that. He did look out of place though, his perfect armour, the way he held himself. This was clearly someone who was filled with self pride, not exactly the type to be found in a run down cheap bar in the middle of the day.
The pristine warrior slowly scanned his head around the room, eyeing up all of the patrons one by one. Eventually his gaze fell on Tartus, where he froze for a moment before nodding his head ever so slightly.
Tartus furrowed his brow, he didn't like anyone pestering him while he drank. Certainly not someone the likes of this pampered fool. The aging Saiyan snarled slightly, as if to warn the Warrior to not approach. But his warning was promptly ignored.
The Warrior strode slowly over to Tartus' table, even they way he walked exuded confidence. For a second he stood motionless, simply staring down at Tartus, a slight look of disgust on his face as his lip curled upwards.
"Fuck off" Tartus spat, before taking another swig of his drink.
The pristine warrior barely reacted to Tartus's hostility, with only a single chuckle, to show he even heard it at all.
"I won't tell you again" snarled Tartus.
He didn't really want to fight this guy, not that he minded fighting itself. It was just that he would most likely be barred from this place, and the effort of trying to find a somewhere else that would let him in, just wasn't worth it.
"I was told I would find you here Tartus" The standing warrior finally spoke, ignoring Tartus' threat altogether. "But I didn't really think you would be this bad"
His condescending tone, his smarmy face, it was enough to make Tartus' blood boil. If he wouldn't leave willingly, Tartus would force him to go. The aging Saiyan suddenly rose to his feet, pushing his chair over backwards in the process. After being seated for so long, the alcohol rushed to his head, causing him to stumble slightly as he squared up the unknown low class. For a second Tartus stared down the Warrior stood before him, expecting him to finally see sense and leave him alone. When his stares were matched by equally determined eyes, he decided to act.
With the two soldiers stood inches apart, Tartus swung his fist up towards the unknown warriors gut. With ease, his attack was blocked but Tartus hadn't banked everything on a single attack. Drawing his fist backwards, Tartus also stepped Way slightly. Opening up jus enough space for a hook, aimed directly towards the soldiers smug chin. Just before his fist could make contact however, the soldier moved in a blur, raising up his own arm in defence. He parried Tartus' punch, whilst also firmly grabbing his arm. Tartus had barely even registered that the Warrior had moved, let alone that his arm was being held.
Using Tartus's own momentum against him, the low class soldier turned his body, throwing the aging Saiyan up over his shoulder. The whole room span for a moment, before Tartus slammed down onto his back.
The unknown warrior looked down towards the prone Tartus, a look of pity on his face as he shook his head.
"My name is Garban" The Warrior stated calmly "I am your new squad leader, something you would know if you ever checked your scouter."
Tartus eventually gathered himself as the rooms slowly stopped spinning. He leaned forward to get to his feet, but Garban's foot planted on his chest and pushed him back down.
"It's clear you don't care about your own wellbeing, and you can do as you choose with your down time. But now you work for me, and the good of the squad is more important than your self pity." Garban's voice was cool and calm.
Garban lifted his boot off Tartus' chest, gently adjusting his own body armour before he turned to leave. As he approached the door, he paused for fora moment and turned back to face Tartus, who was just about getting to his feet.
"Training starts at eight tomorrow morning. Do not make the mistake of turning up hung over!" With that Garban strode out of the bar, leaving the patrons silenced in shock. They all stood with their mouths agape, staring at Tartus.
"What are you looking at?" The aging Saiyan snarled, before picking up his chair and seating himself back down. He would need more drink to help him come to terms with this.
Lifting the glass to his lips, Tartus gulped down a mouthful of the foul tasting beverage. Most would grimace as they forced it down their throat, but Tartus had become numb to the taste, as he had of many things.
The door to the bar opened slowly, daylight poured into the room, causing Tartus to squint his eyes until the door closed again. Stood in front of the door, a Saiyan warrior stood tall, garbed in pristine Low class armour. His hair was medium length, spiked directly backwards from his head. Tartus smirked at the sight, he looked as though he had left the pod door open as he fire through the atmosphere, with his hair blown back like that. He did look out of place though, his perfect armour, the way he held himself. This was clearly someone who was filled with self pride, not exactly the type to be found in a run down cheap bar in the middle of the day.
The pristine warrior slowly scanned his head around the room, eyeing up all of the patrons one by one. Eventually his gaze fell on Tartus, where he froze for a moment before nodding his head ever so slightly.
Tartus furrowed his brow, he didn't like anyone pestering him while he drank. Certainly not someone the likes of this pampered fool. The aging Saiyan snarled slightly, as if to warn the Warrior to not approach. But his warning was promptly ignored.
The Warrior strode slowly over to Tartus' table, even they way he walked exuded confidence. For a second he stood motionless, simply staring down at Tartus, a slight look of disgust on his face as his lip curled upwards.
"Fuck off" Tartus spat, before taking another swig of his drink.
The pristine warrior barely reacted to Tartus's hostility, with only a single chuckle, to show he even heard it at all.
"I won't tell you again" snarled Tartus.
He didn't really want to fight this guy, not that he minded fighting itself. It was just that he would most likely be barred from this place, and the effort of trying to find a somewhere else that would let him in, just wasn't worth it.
"I was told I would find you here Tartus" The standing warrior finally spoke, ignoring Tartus' threat altogether. "But I didn't really think you would be this bad"
His condescending tone, his smarmy face, it was enough to make Tartus' blood boil. If he wouldn't leave willingly, Tartus would force him to go. The aging Saiyan suddenly rose to his feet, pushing his chair over backwards in the process. After being seated for so long, the alcohol rushed to his head, causing him to stumble slightly as he squared up the unknown low class. For a second Tartus stared down the Warrior stood before him, expecting him to finally see sense and leave him alone. When his stares were matched by equally determined eyes, he decided to act.
With the two soldiers stood inches apart, Tartus swung his fist up towards the unknown warriors gut. With ease, his attack was blocked but Tartus hadn't banked everything on a single attack. Drawing his fist backwards, Tartus also stepped Way slightly. Opening up jus enough space for a hook, aimed directly towards the soldiers smug chin. Just before his fist could make contact however, the soldier moved in a blur, raising up his own arm in defence. He parried Tartus' punch, whilst also firmly grabbing his arm. Tartus had barely even registered that the Warrior had moved, let alone that his arm was being held.
Using Tartus's own momentum against him, the low class soldier turned his body, throwing the aging Saiyan up over his shoulder. The whole room span for a moment, before Tartus slammed down onto his back.
The unknown warrior looked down towards the prone Tartus, a look of pity on his face as he shook his head.
"My name is Garban" The Warrior stated calmly "I am your new squad leader, something you would know if you ever checked your scouter."
Tartus eventually gathered himself as the rooms slowly stopped spinning. He leaned forward to get to his feet, but Garban's foot planted on his chest and pushed him back down.
"It's clear you don't care about your own wellbeing, and you can do as you choose with your down time. But now you work for me, and the good of the squad is more important than your self pity." Garban's voice was cool and calm.
Garban lifted his boot off Tartus' chest, gently adjusting his own body armour before he turned to leave. As he approached the door, he paused for fora moment and turned back to face Tartus, who was just about getting to his feet.
"Training starts at eight tomorrow morning. Do not make the mistake of turning up hung over!" With that Garban strode out of the bar, leaving the patrons silenced in shock. They all stood with their mouths agape, staring at Tartus.
"What are you looking at?" The aging Saiyan snarled, before picking up his chair and seating himself back down. He would need more drink to help him come to terms with this.