Post by Broly on Jul 17, 2007 21:29:06 GMT -5
Words - 7048
The tranquil noise of sparkling blue waves crashing upon shimmering white sand was usually the only sounds which were audible over the occasional shrill cry of a the resident seagulls on Kame Island. The sun beamed brightly in an equally blue sky, casting it rays upon the small tropical paradise. The salty air of the South Sea rolled across the area, the grass and trees bending to its will as it rolled by. This was, by all means, this was simply a perfect day in one of the most beautiful places upon the planet Earth. However the scenery did not tell exactly tell the tale correctly. Traveling around the island would reveal what was actually taking place here. The lush green grass which once covered the entire inland of the area had been destroyed in several areas. Only scattered clumps of the stuff remained about the island, and it was most noticeably bare in the area rear of the Kame House. Most of the once native vegetation in this locale was in fact, gone. Instead a dusty plain crafted in a rough square took its place which bore much resemblance to some type of arena. Four torches, each one as tall as a man and hewed from the palm trees on the isle, stood at each corner. During this time of the day they were unlit, yet they shown wear and tear with their tops smoldered a dark black from previous uses. Now one must argue that this could be fairly natural for owner of the large pink house and island. The short, eccentric owner was Muten Roshi, the famed Turtle Hermit. He was well known for training multiple students in various forms of martial arts as well as imparting his knowledge of ki control. Yet, there was something inherently foul concerning this arena and the overall damage done to the isle. There were less creatures which called this place home. The vegetation recoiled from the soil that the arena was crafted from. The soil itself was a dark brown, but bore no water and always appeared as unsaturated and rocky. Put bluntly, evil had manifested itself on this island, calling the scattered grouping deathly looking palm trees its abode. Luckily enough, Roshi had kept it rather busy during its stay upon this island. Today, however, seemed to have a foreboding sense overshadowing whatever good may come of it...
The aforementioned owner of the island was currently inside his home, the Kame House. Master Roshi was currently preoccupied at the moment. His small, frail body was currently in a reclining position as he lay back on old, albeit comfortable red couch. The small television set positioned directly ahead of him flashed brightly in the room. Images of rather young women, incredibly young for Roshi's age, danced about in their bikinis which were in a rainbow array of colors and styles. His eyes widened at the sight of this, his eyebrows rising high enough to be seen above his large red-rimmed sunglasses that he was rarely seen without. The images of a filled out yellow halter tube-top reflected dimly off of those same sunglasses and Roshi sat up rather quickly laughing childishly as his cheeks became flushed with color. He grinned wide, falling off of the furniture with a muffled crash. A moment passed as he righted himself, rising slightly as his left hand gingerly rubbed his shiny bald head. He was nursing a newly formed red bump which appeared from the fall, yet this did not damper his spirits. One of the lovely young ladies on the television bent over and not a second had elapsed before Roshi was scrambling forwards to get the best view possible. There was more snickering as he sat back on the floor while the program continued. Master Roshi used to be the strongest fighter on the planet, but no one ever said he possessed the highest of moral standards. In fact, he may have never possessed any morals if one thought about it. Before long the program cut to commercial and a large picture of a ham appeared, flashing texts revealing about its flavor, along with other incentives to purchase it. While this didn't exactly affect Roshi, his stomach rumbled. He slowly got to his feet, snagging his small brown cane as he hobbled over towards the kitchen. His right clutched the metal door to the fridge as he popped it open. His facial expression changed from glee to distaste. His newest pupil had been consuming more food products then he could ever have imagined. After a few moments of fumbling around inside of it, Roshi produced some deli meat and returned to his living room with a sandwich. His eyes returned to the television, hoping that the bothersome commercials had ended. Instead, Roshi was greeted by the local news anchor. The words “Special News Bulletin” had been labeled across the top of the screen while the first words out of the man's mouth was, “This just in.” Obviously it was some type of urgent message. “According to local authorities in West City a large humanoid figure crashed down today outside on Highway 30 creating a crater several hundred feet deep and numerous yards in diameter. Authorities were dispatched to the seen, but were ineffective at stopping the person from entering the Capsule Corporation. Little else is known about the event, but at least thirty people were injured with five dead. This footage was taken during the event by a passing commuter with a camera phone, so please excuse the poor focus.” The short video began to run on the television as Roshi dropped the plate which held his recently acquired sandwich. A large figure could be faintly made out as the footage ran, engulfed in a blazing green aura as it rose from the crater. Multiple cars had been flipped and scattered and the road itself had seemed it was mutilated by a severe earthquake. Roshi stepped forwards, focusing only recognizing the figure in the video. The poor rendering and shakiness of the camera phone made it rather difficult to view and all of the sound was muffled out by screams of people fleeing the area. The last image to appear on the screen was two police cars being violently thrown into the air, crashing into buildings sending a shower of dust and debris below. The screen returned to the anchorman who began to list off numbers which should be called in case this individual could be located and to stay indoors. Roshi's jaw dropped, yet nothing came out. He was at a loss for words currently. He had a sick feeling side of his stomach. Roshi had suspected who committed this act of reckless violence. His grip tightened upon this cane as he turned, hobbling towards the back door of his home. He pushed opened the back door, carefully moving down the cement stoop while still carrying himself with a sense of urgency to check on his new pupil who resided in the rear. He scrambled across the rocky earth of the crude arena, nearly tripping as he moved. Roshi was close to panicking at this rate, a wave of guilt washed over him. This may be his responsibility. Two of the palms had been pulled together, long sheets of tough fabric were draped across them secured by various ropes which in turn were tied to posts buried in the earth. Roshi doubled over, panting heavily. His stamina wasn't what it used to be, not at this age. His hand clenched the cane while he reached out with it, slipping it in between two sheets and pulling them back slowly. He expected to see his pupil here, but all that lay inside was a bedroll which was slightly used. Roshi's face became flush with color once more as he spoke. “It's as I feared..it was...”
“BROLY!” screamed a woman whose face shown nothing but pure terror. Her eyes were were wide and doe like as her high pitched voice echoed along with several other members of the population who had the luck to see the monstrosity. An entire business district of West City was now officially gripped with fear, for Broly had come. Someone had finally identified him, most likely from help by the Z-Fighters. Broly had fled his abode in Muten Roshi's backyard several hours ago. He sought out new training methods, which led to the incident outside of Capsule Corporation roughly three hours ago. The beast himself stood erect, levitating nearly thirty feet off of the ground. Although he was pure evil wrapped within mental instability, he was still a sight to behold. His feet were sheathed in gold boots which bore sapphire gems. Tucked inside of these boots were baggy white pants which sported a maroon waist cloth which hung down to mid-thigh level. It was secured at his waist by a belt of the same color as his boots, adorned with more gems. His upper body was naked and displayed his dark caramel skin. His physique was incredible. Large pectoral muscles framed an upper body that rippled with power from his traps to his abdominal muscles. His arms were of similar size, portraying massive biceps and forearms which rivaled most human body builders entire arms. He was a pure blooded Saiyan and it shown through. His face was framed by a strong jawline and large brown oculars. At the moment his face was emotionless, stoic by all means. Golden jewelry adorned his upper arms, wrists and neck. He appeared as royalty to some, but this was not true. Rather he was the antithesis of Saiyan Royalty, as King Vegeta himself ordered Broly's death. Yet that untimely attempt on his life would not be the end of his tale. Granted uncontrollable power Broly was nearly insane. Roshi had tried to probe the mind of the Saiyan and at first seemed to achieve minor success, but there was little that could suppress such a copious amount of power. A wicked smile began to form upon Broly as his slowly descended, his boots tapping lightly on the black pavement. Traffic was traveling rather swiftly at this section of the city, but that did not phase the Saiyan at all. His left reached out into the traffic lane as he clutched around the upper support frame of a hover vehicle. His hand compressed, partially crunching it in his hand as he lifted upwards, pulling the car up with him. His left foot slid backwards as he spun, releasing the car on his second rotation. It, along with the passengers collided into a nearby cement office building. An explosion quickly followed which knocked out vital supports to the building itself which was upon several columns. Broly repeated the process, except this time he intentionally aimed for the columns opposite the first explosion. The result was nearly the same except for the groaning from the remained columns as they buckled under the new weight of the building. Broly's head leaned back as he loosed a chilling, psychotic laugh which sent more and more people out of the area, running for their lives. The columns finally snapped under the weight bringing the entire building and its inhabitants down upon itself. A huge ring of thick gray dust exploded out from the base of the building's collapse, hazing the area in a strange glow as the sun struggled to filter its way through the particles now in the atmosphere. Broly was unharmed, and hardly phased. He fed off of this destruction. Long strides carried him forwards, as he knocked over parking meters and mailboxes with the slightest of ease. There were few who would oppose him now, yet the high pitched squeal of police sirens could be heard over the mass panicked screams of the mob fleeing the scene. This meant only that more destruction could be wrought from his hands. Several dozen police vehicles rolled in, one after another. Parking diagonally in the street forming a large barricade. Hundreds of officers stormed out, and a police helicopter could be seen in the sky, which caught Broly's attention quickly. A rather cheeky officer appeared in front of the barricade in full riot gear. He held a bullhorn in his left hand brought up to his mouth as he activated it. “CEASE AND DESIST AT ONCE. YOU WILL ALLOW US TO TAKE YOU INTO CUSTODAY. WE HAVE AUTHORIZATION TO USE VIOLENT FORCE!” The man shouted until his blue in the face, and actually had to stop mid way through and catch his breath. The other police officers all brandished their weapons as hundreds of small arms, most pistols and police issued shotguns, were aimed directly towards Broly. Most of the officer were visibly intimidated, shaking in their positions as they took up refuge before open vehicle doors and random debris which had been part of the recently collapsed office building. Broly's eyes were still skyward before his head gently lowered, bringing his gaze upon the small army of policemen. He leaned back once more, breaking out into that psychotic laugh that could be faintly heard of the whirling blades of the helicopter not but fifty foot above. The police chief with the bullhorn was obviously frustrated and pressed his mouth against the bullhorn again. “THATS IT YOU SCUM!” He turned back to the officers, all poised to fire. “LET 'EM HAVE IT BOYS!” He motioned his arm forwards as he slipped behind his squad car. The sounds of small arms fire filled the air, as lead occupied the airspace. The first few salvos were ill-aimed, but some struck too merely pinging off Broly's muscular physique. He had never stopped laughing during this entire ordeal, and he flexed at the knees his head cast skywards again. His flaming green aura of energy surrounded him again as he blasted upwards towards the helicopter which was hovering just above the battle area. The pilot in the chopper peered out the windshield of the craft, through the visor which was attached to his helmet He pulled up hard, trying to rapidly gain altitude to evade the oncoming Saiyan, but a mere helicopter could not out pace Broly. He spoke quickly into the microphone affixed to his helmet, “Mayday, Mayday!” but it was no to avail. He let go of the controls to shield his face from his oncoming destruction but still watched between his crossed arms to see what Broly would do, and surprisingly enough Broly flew directly in front of the machine blasting upwards. The pilot's arms fell into his lap, he released several exasperated breaths before the entire helicopter was jolted. The control panel read that the main blades which lifted the machine into the air had failed, yet he was experiencing no decline in altitude. Broly had chosen one blade and reached out, crushing it partially in his hands as he stopped the blades from spinning causing the system malfunction, however he was still holding it in midair. A loan grunt was emitted from the Saiyan's gritted teeth as he lifted the chopper up over his head before swinging it like an ax downwards, releasing at the correct angle so it spiraled out of control to the numerous police vehicles still on the ground. The officers on the ground scattered, running for their lives as the now flaming helicopter was sent directly towards them. The engine in the helicopter had malfunctioned due to the quick stoppage of the blades, causing a fire to spring up within the engine. Along with the oil leaks and other flammable liquids whose housing pipes were burst along with the previous process, had caused Broly to create a large, flaming projectile weapon. It all appeared in slow motion to Broly, still rejoicing in the madness that he had created. The helicopter slammed into a triad of vehicles, overturning them as it slammed into the pavement skidding along into more and more vehicles. Eventually the combustible liquids, well, combusted. A huge explosion followed, throwing up a multitude of pieces of flaming wreckage onto buildings. Those squad cars that had been afflicted by the chopper or the flaming spray from its demise began to detonate themselves, spreading more fire throughout the city block. It was a joyous fireworks display for the Saiyan, and he enjoyed every minute of it, regardless of how morbid or sick it appeared to be. Broly descended once more to chewed up pavement, still quietly snickering to himself. The plump police chief lay pinned beneath a large hunk of partially melted metal. He lay struggling to breath, as heavy footfalls began to fill his ears. He knew what was coming, and he struggled trying to push the heavy weight off his legs so he could at least attempt to escape from this cruel fate. His breathing became panicked as he continued struggling, the footsteps became louder every step. It drove the chief insane, he was sweating profusely before the steps stopped completely. He gazed about warily, and saw nothing. He breathed a sigh of relief before laying back down, waiting for help and as he gazed at the sky he realized that a squad car was above him. He wasn't sure if he was imagining things or not. The man was so afflicted by the pain he couldn't be sure anymore, that was until it crashed down upon creating a horrible noise as it killed him. The last sound the man could hear was the faint laugh of Broly....
Roshi, meanwhile, had been sitting inside his home for most of the day, glued to the television watching the multiple reports come in of the destruction of West City. There was little he felt he could do in this situation. He had no means of calling in any of the Z-Fighters at the moment. He felt that it would be worthless to try to reach any of them anyways. Krillin was the only fighter who visited Roshi frequently neither he nor any of the other amateur fighters he was training could stop Broly, let alone hold a candle to him. He would have to play the waiting game, or at least thats how he had to view it. He could only hope that Broly would eventually return to the island, and there Roshi would have to try to reach him again, attempt to quell that power that raged inside him. More reports flashed in on the television that caught Roshi's attention. Broly had eliminated an entire precinct in mere minutes. Footage rolled in of the entire loss of a business district, the most recent of Broly's assaults. The anchorman flashed on again, presenting new information that the military would be taking procedures to stop Broly's rampage, once and for all. His head shook, and his right hand reached up, stroking his wiry beard. “No, that will never do. They can throw everything they have at that boy and it would barely scratch him. I fear that only Goku might be able to handle this job, and I don't even know if he could handle it alone.” Roshi narrowed his eyes as he began to formulate a plan within his head. It was risky, so risky, but it was called for. Roshi rose, clutching his cane as he strode towards the door. He exited quickly, casting his eyes to the north, only wondering what Broly still had in store for those people there. Roshi traveled around his house, sandals sinking into the few patches of grass that remained alive. Small puffs of dusk were released as his feet lifted after each step. Roshi headed towards the broken earth which the arena was consisted of and awaited him..
The tranquil noise of sparkling blue waves crashing upon shimmering white sand was usually the only sounds which were audible over the occasional shrill cry of a the resident seagulls on Kame Island. The sun beamed brightly in an equally blue sky, casting it rays upon the small tropical paradise. The salty air of the South Sea rolled across the area, the grass and trees bending to its will as it rolled by. This was, by all means, this was simply a perfect day in one of the most beautiful places upon the planet Earth. However the scenery did not tell exactly tell the tale correctly. Traveling around the island would reveal what was actually taking place here. The lush green grass which once covered the entire inland of the area had been destroyed in several areas. Only scattered clumps of the stuff remained about the island, and it was most noticeably bare in the area rear of the Kame House. Most of the once native vegetation in this locale was in fact, gone. Instead a dusty plain crafted in a rough square took its place which bore much resemblance to some type of arena. Four torches, each one as tall as a man and hewed from the palm trees on the isle, stood at each corner. During this time of the day they were unlit, yet they shown wear and tear with their tops smoldered a dark black from previous uses. Now one must argue that this could be fairly natural for owner of the large pink house and island. The short, eccentric owner was Muten Roshi, the famed Turtle Hermit. He was well known for training multiple students in various forms of martial arts as well as imparting his knowledge of ki control. Yet, there was something inherently foul concerning this arena and the overall damage done to the isle. There were less creatures which called this place home. The vegetation recoiled from the soil that the arena was crafted from. The soil itself was a dark brown, but bore no water and always appeared as unsaturated and rocky. Put bluntly, evil had manifested itself on this island, calling the scattered grouping deathly looking palm trees its abode. Luckily enough, Roshi had kept it rather busy during its stay upon this island. Today, however, seemed to have a foreboding sense overshadowing whatever good may come of it...
The aforementioned owner of the island was currently inside his home, the Kame House. Master Roshi was currently preoccupied at the moment. His small, frail body was currently in a reclining position as he lay back on old, albeit comfortable red couch. The small television set positioned directly ahead of him flashed brightly in the room. Images of rather young women, incredibly young for Roshi's age, danced about in their bikinis which were in a rainbow array of colors and styles. His eyes widened at the sight of this, his eyebrows rising high enough to be seen above his large red-rimmed sunglasses that he was rarely seen without. The images of a filled out yellow halter tube-top reflected dimly off of those same sunglasses and Roshi sat up rather quickly laughing childishly as his cheeks became flushed with color. He grinned wide, falling off of the furniture with a muffled crash. A moment passed as he righted himself, rising slightly as his left hand gingerly rubbed his shiny bald head. He was nursing a newly formed red bump which appeared from the fall, yet this did not damper his spirits. One of the lovely young ladies on the television bent over and not a second had elapsed before Roshi was scrambling forwards to get the best view possible. There was more snickering as he sat back on the floor while the program continued. Master Roshi used to be the strongest fighter on the planet, but no one ever said he possessed the highest of moral standards. In fact, he may have never possessed any morals if one thought about it. Before long the program cut to commercial and a large picture of a ham appeared, flashing texts revealing about its flavor, along with other incentives to purchase it. While this didn't exactly affect Roshi, his stomach rumbled. He slowly got to his feet, snagging his small brown cane as he hobbled over towards the kitchen. His right clutched the metal door to the fridge as he popped it open. His facial expression changed from glee to distaste. His newest pupil had been consuming more food products then he could ever have imagined. After a few moments of fumbling around inside of it, Roshi produced some deli meat and returned to his living room with a sandwich. His eyes returned to the television, hoping that the bothersome commercials had ended. Instead, Roshi was greeted by the local news anchor. The words “Special News Bulletin” had been labeled across the top of the screen while the first words out of the man's mouth was, “This just in.” Obviously it was some type of urgent message. “According to local authorities in West City a large humanoid figure crashed down today outside on Highway 30 creating a crater several hundred feet deep and numerous yards in diameter. Authorities were dispatched to the seen, but were ineffective at stopping the person from entering the Capsule Corporation. Little else is known about the event, but at least thirty people were injured with five dead. This footage was taken during the event by a passing commuter with a camera phone, so please excuse the poor focus.” The short video began to run on the television as Roshi dropped the plate which held his recently acquired sandwich. A large figure could be faintly made out as the footage ran, engulfed in a blazing green aura as it rose from the crater. Multiple cars had been flipped and scattered and the road itself had seemed it was mutilated by a severe earthquake. Roshi stepped forwards, focusing only recognizing the figure in the video. The poor rendering and shakiness of the camera phone made it rather difficult to view and all of the sound was muffled out by screams of people fleeing the area. The last image to appear on the screen was two police cars being violently thrown into the air, crashing into buildings sending a shower of dust and debris below. The screen returned to the anchorman who began to list off numbers which should be called in case this individual could be located and to stay indoors. Roshi's jaw dropped, yet nothing came out. He was at a loss for words currently. He had a sick feeling side of his stomach. Roshi had suspected who committed this act of reckless violence. His grip tightened upon this cane as he turned, hobbling towards the back door of his home. He pushed opened the back door, carefully moving down the cement stoop while still carrying himself with a sense of urgency to check on his new pupil who resided in the rear. He scrambled across the rocky earth of the crude arena, nearly tripping as he moved. Roshi was close to panicking at this rate, a wave of guilt washed over him. This may be his responsibility. Two of the palms had been pulled together, long sheets of tough fabric were draped across them secured by various ropes which in turn were tied to posts buried in the earth. Roshi doubled over, panting heavily. His stamina wasn't what it used to be, not at this age. His hand clenched the cane while he reached out with it, slipping it in between two sheets and pulling them back slowly. He expected to see his pupil here, but all that lay inside was a bedroll which was slightly used. Roshi's face became flush with color once more as he spoke. “It's as I feared..it was...”
“BROLY!” screamed a woman whose face shown nothing but pure terror. Her eyes were were wide and doe like as her high pitched voice echoed along with several other members of the population who had the luck to see the monstrosity. An entire business district of West City was now officially gripped with fear, for Broly had come. Someone had finally identified him, most likely from help by the Z-Fighters. Broly had fled his abode in Muten Roshi's backyard several hours ago. He sought out new training methods, which led to the incident outside of Capsule Corporation roughly three hours ago. The beast himself stood erect, levitating nearly thirty feet off of the ground. Although he was pure evil wrapped within mental instability, he was still a sight to behold. His feet were sheathed in gold boots which bore sapphire gems. Tucked inside of these boots were baggy white pants which sported a maroon waist cloth which hung down to mid-thigh level. It was secured at his waist by a belt of the same color as his boots, adorned with more gems. His upper body was naked and displayed his dark caramel skin. His physique was incredible. Large pectoral muscles framed an upper body that rippled with power from his traps to his abdominal muscles. His arms were of similar size, portraying massive biceps and forearms which rivaled most human body builders entire arms. He was a pure blooded Saiyan and it shown through. His face was framed by a strong jawline and large brown oculars. At the moment his face was emotionless, stoic by all means. Golden jewelry adorned his upper arms, wrists and neck. He appeared as royalty to some, but this was not true. Rather he was the antithesis of Saiyan Royalty, as King Vegeta himself ordered Broly's death. Yet that untimely attempt on his life would not be the end of his tale. Granted uncontrollable power Broly was nearly insane. Roshi had tried to probe the mind of the Saiyan and at first seemed to achieve minor success, but there was little that could suppress such a copious amount of power. A wicked smile began to form upon Broly as his slowly descended, his boots tapping lightly on the black pavement. Traffic was traveling rather swiftly at this section of the city, but that did not phase the Saiyan at all. His left reached out into the traffic lane as he clutched around the upper support frame of a hover vehicle. His hand compressed, partially crunching it in his hand as he lifted upwards, pulling the car up with him. His left foot slid backwards as he spun, releasing the car on his second rotation. It, along with the passengers collided into a nearby cement office building. An explosion quickly followed which knocked out vital supports to the building itself which was upon several columns. Broly repeated the process, except this time he intentionally aimed for the columns opposite the first explosion. The result was nearly the same except for the groaning from the remained columns as they buckled under the new weight of the building. Broly's head leaned back as he loosed a chilling, psychotic laugh which sent more and more people out of the area, running for their lives. The columns finally snapped under the weight bringing the entire building and its inhabitants down upon itself. A huge ring of thick gray dust exploded out from the base of the building's collapse, hazing the area in a strange glow as the sun struggled to filter its way through the particles now in the atmosphere. Broly was unharmed, and hardly phased. He fed off of this destruction. Long strides carried him forwards, as he knocked over parking meters and mailboxes with the slightest of ease. There were few who would oppose him now, yet the high pitched squeal of police sirens could be heard over the mass panicked screams of the mob fleeing the scene. This meant only that more destruction could be wrought from his hands. Several dozen police vehicles rolled in, one after another. Parking diagonally in the street forming a large barricade. Hundreds of officers stormed out, and a police helicopter could be seen in the sky, which caught Broly's attention quickly. A rather cheeky officer appeared in front of the barricade in full riot gear. He held a bullhorn in his left hand brought up to his mouth as he activated it. “CEASE AND DESIST AT ONCE. YOU WILL ALLOW US TO TAKE YOU INTO CUSTODAY. WE HAVE AUTHORIZATION TO USE VIOLENT FORCE!” The man shouted until his blue in the face, and actually had to stop mid way through and catch his breath. The other police officers all brandished their weapons as hundreds of small arms, most pistols and police issued shotguns, were aimed directly towards Broly. Most of the officer were visibly intimidated, shaking in their positions as they took up refuge before open vehicle doors and random debris which had been part of the recently collapsed office building. Broly's eyes were still skyward before his head gently lowered, bringing his gaze upon the small army of policemen. He leaned back once more, breaking out into that psychotic laugh that could be faintly heard of the whirling blades of the helicopter not but fifty foot above. The police chief with the bullhorn was obviously frustrated and pressed his mouth against the bullhorn again. “THATS IT YOU SCUM!” He turned back to the officers, all poised to fire. “LET 'EM HAVE IT BOYS!” He motioned his arm forwards as he slipped behind his squad car. The sounds of small arms fire filled the air, as lead occupied the airspace. The first few salvos were ill-aimed, but some struck too merely pinging off Broly's muscular physique. He had never stopped laughing during this entire ordeal, and he flexed at the knees his head cast skywards again. His flaming green aura of energy surrounded him again as he blasted upwards towards the helicopter which was hovering just above the battle area. The pilot in the chopper peered out the windshield of the craft, through the visor which was attached to his helmet He pulled up hard, trying to rapidly gain altitude to evade the oncoming Saiyan, but a mere helicopter could not out pace Broly. He spoke quickly into the microphone affixed to his helmet, “Mayday, Mayday!” but it was no to avail. He let go of the controls to shield his face from his oncoming destruction but still watched between his crossed arms to see what Broly would do, and surprisingly enough Broly flew directly in front of the machine blasting upwards. The pilot's arms fell into his lap, he released several exasperated breaths before the entire helicopter was jolted. The control panel read that the main blades which lifted the machine into the air had failed, yet he was experiencing no decline in altitude. Broly had chosen one blade and reached out, crushing it partially in his hands as he stopped the blades from spinning causing the system malfunction, however he was still holding it in midair. A loan grunt was emitted from the Saiyan's gritted teeth as he lifted the chopper up over his head before swinging it like an ax downwards, releasing at the correct angle so it spiraled out of control to the numerous police vehicles still on the ground. The officers on the ground scattered, running for their lives as the now flaming helicopter was sent directly towards them. The engine in the helicopter had malfunctioned due to the quick stoppage of the blades, causing a fire to spring up within the engine. Along with the oil leaks and other flammable liquids whose housing pipes were burst along with the previous process, had caused Broly to create a large, flaming projectile weapon. It all appeared in slow motion to Broly, still rejoicing in the madness that he had created. The helicopter slammed into a triad of vehicles, overturning them as it slammed into the pavement skidding along into more and more vehicles. Eventually the combustible liquids, well, combusted. A huge explosion followed, throwing up a multitude of pieces of flaming wreckage onto buildings. Those squad cars that had been afflicted by the chopper or the flaming spray from its demise began to detonate themselves, spreading more fire throughout the city block. It was a joyous fireworks display for the Saiyan, and he enjoyed every minute of it, regardless of how morbid or sick it appeared to be. Broly descended once more to chewed up pavement, still quietly snickering to himself. The plump police chief lay pinned beneath a large hunk of partially melted metal. He lay struggling to breath, as heavy footfalls began to fill his ears. He knew what was coming, and he struggled trying to push the heavy weight off his legs so he could at least attempt to escape from this cruel fate. His breathing became panicked as he continued struggling, the footsteps became louder every step. It drove the chief insane, he was sweating profusely before the steps stopped completely. He gazed about warily, and saw nothing. He breathed a sigh of relief before laying back down, waiting for help and as he gazed at the sky he realized that a squad car was above him. He wasn't sure if he was imagining things or not. The man was so afflicted by the pain he couldn't be sure anymore, that was until it crashed down upon creating a horrible noise as it killed him. The last sound the man could hear was the faint laugh of Broly....
Roshi, meanwhile, had been sitting inside his home for most of the day, glued to the television watching the multiple reports come in of the destruction of West City. There was little he felt he could do in this situation. He had no means of calling in any of the Z-Fighters at the moment. He felt that it would be worthless to try to reach any of them anyways. Krillin was the only fighter who visited Roshi frequently neither he nor any of the other amateur fighters he was training could stop Broly, let alone hold a candle to him. He would have to play the waiting game, or at least thats how he had to view it. He could only hope that Broly would eventually return to the island, and there Roshi would have to try to reach him again, attempt to quell that power that raged inside him. More reports flashed in on the television that caught Roshi's attention. Broly had eliminated an entire precinct in mere minutes. Footage rolled in of the entire loss of a business district, the most recent of Broly's assaults. The anchorman flashed on again, presenting new information that the military would be taking procedures to stop Broly's rampage, once and for all. His head shook, and his right hand reached up, stroking his wiry beard. “No, that will never do. They can throw everything they have at that boy and it would barely scratch him. I fear that only Goku might be able to handle this job, and I don't even know if he could handle it alone.” Roshi narrowed his eyes as he began to formulate a plan within his head. It was risky, so risky, but it was called for. Roshi rose, clutching his cane as he strode towards the door. He exited quickly, casting his eyes to the north, only wondering what Broly still had in store for those people there. Roshi traveled around his house, sandals sinking into the few patches of grass that remained alive. Small puffs of dusk were released as his feet lifted after each step. Roshi headed towards the broken earth which the arena was consisted of and awaited him..
