Byond Key: Con4
-IGN: Arugala
Discord Name: Con_I do stuff.
Race: Saiyan (Legendary)
Age: 15
Rank/Tech/Item: Legendary Saiyan


-An RP based around exile (Of course this isn't what happened):

A God amongst men. Arugala was revered as a legend by her Parents, her power level exceeded low class, normal and elite. However, it was the same power that led to the timely ending of her family. Only at the tender age of two, Arugala was forced to witness the slaughtering of flock, the two Saiyans that brought her into the World were brutally clobbered by the fists of Saiyan Elite. Now, it was unusual for a Saiyan to mourn the death of their Parents, considering they wouldn't have been around them often, and it was for the same reason he didn't shed a single tear.

Despite being the age of two, she hadn't the sense that other Saiyans did at the same age, and as a result, her inability to analyse situation cost her dearly. The group of figures adorned in blue underclothing, and traditional Saiyan armour locked their visage onto what didn't even qualify to be a child (ages 5-11), preparing to dish out an unruly sequence.

One Saiyan came forward, every part of his figure spoke a single word. "Fear". It would be the first time ever in Arugala's life that he would wear a demeanor of fear. The ordeal was horrible. The elite stepped forward, a smirk creeping onto his countenance. She cracked her fists, uttering a few words. "Trash like you aren't fit to be a Warrior! You dare come into existence, attempting to impeach the King?" Arugala was in no position to respond. She couldn't even speak well enough.

A palm grabbed the ragged leather around the infant's throat, her collar pulled just to a level for the Saiyan Adult to easily stare into her eyes. "This isn't a joke. Speak, or you'll end up like the mass of garbage we just dealt with." As expected, Arugala remained silent, and useless. The elite grew angry. He grit his teeth, slamming the one year old into the concrete ground. It wouldn't end with one punch, nor a kick. A gloved fist made contact with the infant's face, blood leaking out her nose.

It was torture. Slowly, Arugala began to black out. It was too much for her frail body, a surprise that he even survived that many punches. Her pupils dilated, before completely fading. It was as the elites wanted, sent to do work based on superstition. Another smirk crept on the Child-beater's face. He could see the loss of life in the poor infant's eyes, but it wasn't going to end just because her eyes were a white canvas. One final punch, but to the gut. She flew forward, colliding with the wall in almost an instant. It was over. Surely, Arugala was dead. But, to be safe, a ball of ki amassed around the elite's gloved palm, its position situated just above the young Saiyan's head.

"Go to hell."

It was at this moment, a miracle took place. The little one's feeble hand stretched to clasp the arm of the cocky. The concrete shack erupted, the ground beneath Arugala shook, rocks dashing across the room. The Elites watched in awe, as veins protruded from the infant's forehead. Her pupils shone a tint of yellow, a green haze materializing around her being. What was once a bushy pile of hair would stand on end, a black spike.  The grip on the Elite only tightened, bringing the poor arm to a close.

Snap. The sound of crunching sent the Elite in a rage, but alas, it was too late. His arrogance had blinded him from the power increasing in Arugalas' mouth. As if he was an animal, primal instincts locked deep inside of her genetics would awake from their thousand-year slumber, manifesting them self through a young blood. An orb of green momentarily gazed at its victim, before forming a straight line of havoc. The grip wouldn't weaken in the slightest, only displaying less and less hope for the life of this Elite. After a few desperate attempts, and a few counters to said attempts, the mass of energy emitted itself from the infant, hell fire spreading across the town. The Saiyans that had originally entered the shack to do their work had immediately evacuated from the vicinity, watching the house burst into flames.

Out of the depths of hellfire, a single figure left the charred mess of bodies. Arugala, Rage incarnate. She exited with a blast around her, a fierce headbutt forcing its way through the body of one of the elites, an ape-like cry resounding from her. She looked onto the remaining foes, drenched in the blood of her victims. Her teeth slid over each other, yellow pupils darting across the few left, before being struck by a tempest. An attack worth its user. An explosion encompassed her little body, before she fell from the smoke. It was as she dropped, her body exploded with power. Green beams flew across the ground, before dying out. She fell to the ground, on what should've been her death bed. For a newborn, it was a great feat enough for her to be able to withstand that much ki surging through her body would surely make her a ticking time bomb. She couldn't handle the rest of her untapped potential, and as a result, she slowly lost conciousness.

Out of the havoc the previous beams had caused for the town, was the man himself, the start of it all, King of the Saiyan race. Barely, just barely, could Arugala hang onto her eyesight, but she memorized that face. With a single piercer, her chest would receive a hole. On the course of life and death, it was decided to send the dead infant to another Planet. The humiliation brought upon the one year old was too great for the Planet, so instead, she would rot on a foreign Planet, the greatest disrespect a Saiyan could have.

It zoomed off into the sky, before changing trajectory and whilst she had gone unnoticed, the pod landed in a Village. It opened, the ovular door slowly dropping to the sandy floor, and what remained inside was a battered child, with no heartbeat. The seat was bloody, the windows were smeared by a red liquid, signaling a brutal end delivered by another Saiyan themself. Fortunately for Arugala, she was shared grace by Alien's who hadn't gotten word of a traitor as of yet, possessing the necessary remedies and medicinal properties of their people's science that could rejuvenate her past her death state. After two years of continuous exposure to regenerative substances, an eye opened. The glass shattered instantly, the Saiyan falling to her knees. She looked around, realizing it was far different to the darkness she had experienced for two, long years, all the whilst realizing if it wasn't for the healing used by technicians off on the Planet that had been relatively close by, the infant would have been long dead.

After a month of recuperation, Arugala set out on a humble journey, before joining a Saiyan Squadron where they were ranked as "Low-Class." Arugala's power laid dormant for time. She would grow up to be a Woman of little words, indicating she must think before her actions. Although, deep within her inner rage was raw Saiyan potential. Her instincts cried out to her, persuading the Saiyan to reach heights only she could have. It was any other normal Saiyan life, unaware of the future that awaited her. Being amongst other Low-classes and Aliens would subside her primal rage, as she hadn't come across a scenario worthy of such, but eventually...

Her birth rite would call once more.