The Legend

Byond Key: Sani man
-IGN: Celerus
Discord Name: Big Daddy #9469
Legendary Saiyan

How do you think you can improve RP with this rank

-As most RPers would know, giving players something to RP against such as a mentor, a friend turned foe, or a cataclysmic event gives an incentive to the PB to raise their standards of RP, and of course the greatest benefit being the gain, plain fun.

In a scenario with the way Legendary Saiyans were depicted inside the whole of Dragon ball, it could be a plausible idea to bring Broly's tragic hero depiction, and bring it to fruition by giving it to a young child bred upon exile due to being denied of their own birth rite, to a tragic hero seeking vengeance and a place in the Universe, all the whilst keeping his Saiyan instincts intact.

However, that would only be the case if banishment was in order. Of course, the tragic flaw of Broly was his rage. Using the rank and details above, a mutual enemy between both Saiyan and human alike could bring a temporary alliance, or any ideas open to thought. Likewise, there is room to improve.



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

A God amongst men. Celerus was revered as a legend by his Parents, his power level exceeded low class, normal and elite. However, it was the same power that led to the timely ending of his family. Only at the tender age of two, Celerus was forced to witness the slaughtering of flock, the two Saiyans that brought him 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, he hadn't the sense that other Saiyans did at the same age, and as a result, his inability to analyse situation cost him 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 Celerus' life that he would wear a demeanour of fear. The ordeal was horrible. The elite stepped forward, a smirk creeping onto his countenance. He cracked his 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?" Celerus was in no position to respond. He couldn't even speak well enough.

A palm grabbed the ragged leather around the infant's throat, his collar pulled just to a level for the Saiyan Adult to easily stare into his eyes. "This isn't a joke. Speak, or you'll end up like the mass of garbage we just dealt with." As expected, Celerus 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 his nose.

It was torture. Slowly, Celerus began to black out. It was too much for his frail body, a surprise that he even survived that many punches. His 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 his eyes were a white canvas. One final punch, but to the gut. He flew forward, colliding with the wall in almost an instant. It was over. Surely, Celerus 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 Celerus shook, rocks dashing across the room. The Elites watched in awe, as veins protruded from the infant's forehead. His pupils shone a tint of yellow, a green haze materialising around his 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 Celerus' mouth. As if he was an animal, primal instincts locked deep inside of his 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. Celerus, Rage incarnate. He exited with a blast around him, a fierce headbutt forcing its way through the body of one of the elites, an ape-like cry resounding from him. He looked onto the remaining foes, drenched in the blood of his victims. His 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 his little body, before he fell from the smoke. It was as he dropped, his body exploded with power. Green beams flew across the ground, before dying out. He fell to the ground, on what should've been his death bed. For a newborn, it was a great feat enough for him to be able to withstand that much ki surging through his body would surely make him a ticking time bomb. He couldn't handle the rest of his untapped potential, and as a result, he slowly lost his life.

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 Celerus hang onto his eyesight, but he memorised that face. With a single piercer, his 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, he would rot on a foreign Planet, the greatest disrespect a Saiyan could have.

It zoomed off into the sky, before changing trajectory and whilst he 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, signalling a brutal end delivered by another Saiyan themself. Fortunately for Celerus, he 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 him past his death state. After two years of continuous exposure to regenerative substances, an eye opened. The glass shattered instantly, the Saiyan falling to his knees. He looked around, realising it was far different to the darkness he had experienced for two, long years, all the whilst realising 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, Celerus set out on a humble journey, before joining a Saiyan Squadron where they were ranked as "Low-Class." Celerus' power laid dormant for time. He would grow up to be a Man of little words, realising he must think before his actions. Although, deep within his inner rage was raw Saiyan potential. His instincts cried out to him, persuading the Saiyan to reach heights only he could have. It was any other normal Saiyan life, unaware of the future that awaited him. Being amongst other Low-classes and Aliens would subside his primal rage, as he hadn't come across a scenario worthy of such, but eventually...

His birth rite would call once more.

END.