A small transport ship flew through the North Galaxy heading for the planet Arcose. The pilot looked over the display screens, checking to ensure the ship was still on the right course. Content with what he saw, the man moved from his seat and made his way to the back, where a shorter man looked over a translucent cylindrical chamber. Inside the chamber was a thin limb teenager, who could only barely have hit puberty, with a furred simian tail wrapped around his waist.

The shorter man turned to the pilot as he approached, “I take it everything is still going well up there?”

Nodding, the pilot replied, “Yes, Dr. Corgie, we should arrive at Arcose in a few days.”

Pleased with the pilot's words, the scientist merely nodded and for several moments, both men stared at the boy that slept in the chamber. Eventually, the pilot broke the silence with a question, “Do you really think this prototype will be able to hold his own against the monsters that he might face in the tournament?”

It was not the doctor that answered the pilot, but a woman dressed in Saiyan Armor, who stood in the corner, “He better be able to do that and more.”

While the pilot seemed to shrink a bit from the woman, the scientist only smiled, “Oh, I think you will be quite surprised by how this boy does in these tests.”

The woman shook her head seemingly a bit irritated by the man's smile, “We shall see.”

The twin Arcosians had recently completed their combat forms and were eager to show their father. Glacial, always full of energy led the way, he leaped his way up the stairs, his short legs taking them two at a time. They had been practicing in secret down on the lowest level, where only the Servants reside, not even the Mixed Bloods cared for their company as they were unable to converse in any known language. He felt his heart thumping in his chest and smiled. Without a word he continued on until he reached the fourth level, knowing full well that his calmer brother would not complain about his pace.

When the two stood on the plateau of the fourth level, they turned and entered the hallways that led to the cave they called home. Before either of them could burst in with the news of their triumph and demand their right to become adults, the words of their father floated out of the entrance, “I don't care if they have completed their combat forms.”

Glacial wanted to barge in and challenge his father right then and there, but the words of his mother quickly followed North's, “If they are able to utilize the combat form, we cannot keep them from going out on their own. It is our way, if they can then they must.”

“But do you know the shame they could bring us! No one in the red clan has failed to bring back a heart in over a hundred years!” The larger Arcosian retorted, breathing heavily in his anger. His twin sons ever seemed a burden he never wished to bear. Now that they were nearing their combat form, only more scenarios of shame flitted through his mind. Growling a bit, North continued, “If they succeeded, what's next? What would they want then? To enter the tournament? To publicly shame us in front of the whole galaxy?!”

The more boisterous twin looked to his brother and started to walk away, “We don't need that old fool's permission. All we need is a heart!”

The Demon King Piccolo sat in a spot reserved for the guest fighters watching the carnage in the Coliseum below. His eyes  followed the two  mixed blood  Arcosians as they battled in a grisly fight to the death. He seemed entertained, if not pleased, by the violence. Behind the Namekian a figure stepped out of the shadows, it strode with the steps of one whose confidence is unshakable. As the figure reached the side of the green skinned being, the Namekian questioned it, "Where have you been, Azamat?"

"Oh, just looking in on some of the competition," replied the Makaioshin.

Piccolo shook his head, "Did you see anything interesting?"

"Nothing that would worry us," Stated Azamat matter of factually, as a smug smirk crawled across his face.

The King of the Demon Clan sighed, his tone taking on a sharp edge, "Well, of course not. I chose my words with purpose. Was there anyone interesting?"

Replying the a shrug, the Pride of Evil seemed amused by the change in tone of the obviously much more powerful Piccolo, “Everything in this realm is interesting, everything and everyone.”

The Namekian just shook his head again and left it at that, knowing full well he would not get anymore out of the Makaioshin unless the Demon God chose to put it forth on his own. Instead, he just leaned back and returned his focus to the gore of the battle spread over the center of the coliseum. One of the mixed bloods had impaled the other with his tail and was proceeding to tear the weaker opponent apart with his bare hands. Smiling, Piccolo waited for the next match to begin.

@BCTheEntity I figure that the Makaioshin likely can feel who it is when they are within range of each others Negative Manipulation, since they spent an untold amount of time in each others company. They are not however, directly affected by the ability.

And so here I am, on the planet known as Arcose. Unbeknownst to anyone else, of course; I can't have people knowing I'm present, after all. Or maybe I can. I couldn't say at this stage. I'm in my current Tempter form, a well-muscled human of extreme attractiveness, but intend to reveal layers of deception as I'm forced to experience greater and greater levels of power - I believe step one, should I be pushed beyond notable human limits, is to reveal that I'm secretly an android, then a Saiyan if I'm pushed far enough for that (or possibly a Saiyan android... maybe I'll have that as the step immediately after, that seems like a logical thing for humans to do), then a Namekian, a Majin, and an Arcosian in that order, and only if I reach my "true" base power will I allow the façade to fall entirely and reveal my status as a Makaioshin. Or just reveal that "I was a Saiyan all along" and pretend to go Super Saiyan, maybe that'd be more conducive to my nature. Indeed, I might end up revealing how fruitless anyone's chances were at victory in the tournament outright as the finale of my final round regardless of how powerful my opponent is. And I am going to get there, of course, let's not pretend there's any chance of my failing to do so within the confines of my own skull.
Upon reaching the area within which tournament sign-ups are occurring, I find myself at the back of a short line of a few people; it does not, however, take me long to reach the front, at which point I'm handed a form and asked to fill in the details. I take a pen, move to one side, and begin filling everything out. Of course, should anyone check what details I actually enter, they will find that all information I have entered is completely false - my age is faked, my power level is completely false, my race is of course entirely lied about, and there's really not much else to keep note of. Other than my false name, which I've saved for last just to give myself time to come up with something suitable... and I think I have it. Taking my sweet time to do so, I simply write down "Dishon" - most people might think it has something to do with tableware, but in fact it references my own dishonest nature, something only the most astute and perceptive of minds will figure out. Perfect. I hand the form in, it gets processed, and I am finally led to my room for the duration of the tournament.
And with that done... well, I don't really have much else to do right now. I suppose the next step would be to continue training myself. I think, if I must continue to improve myself, that the best option would likely be... hmm... whilst I want to try and maximise my abilities in the other two Curse focuses for the sake of completion, I figure neither of them will actually be useful in the context of a battle. So maybe something from the Blessing School... Magic Materialisation and Healing are quite useless to me, I can't see a short-term Boost being immediately useful within the context of a tournament except in the most dire of circumstances, and I'm definitely not utilising any sort of Mystic magic upon myself until I'm absolutely certain that my physical power has reached its highest natural peak, if it can only be used on me once in my entire lifetime (though with that said, it may also be the case that it's only once per person per caster, which brings a whole slew of incentives to teach the Mystic spell to as many beings as possible who have even a vague inclination toward magic, then have it be cast on me over and over, since I could almost certainly convince them to do this for me in exchange for teaching it in the first instance, though I'll need to test that before trying anything on myself). In other words, Release it is - on the off-chance that an opponent of mine happens to be a mage strong enough to negatively affect me before I can affect them, it'll be useful to have a way of undoing their trickery. I'm the one who uses trickery, after all.
Speaking of which, I haven't even activated my Negative Manipulation aura yet. I do so now, tuning it to a fairly low level for the time being, but doing what I can to expand it as far out as possible, in an effort to catch as many people as possible within its folds. Ideally, this will have a subtle enough effect over time for the fighters trapped within this colosseum to not realise what's going on until they're all liars and thieves. And of course, once they're at that stage, it matters not what they try to do to me, for I have already won. Until then, I shall train to utilise Release magic, and all will be well.

Oh, Lai Larr, I was not expecting that! This planet has seriously too much gravity, it's just silly and crazy. I mean, maybe I should be used to variable gravities or whatever, but it doesn't work every time. I think. Whatever, I need to find the place.
And, uh, yes, this is a big building. I'm having to ask all these people where to go, and I keep getting lost, and it's just dumb. Why couldn't they makes it smaller? I found myself in the stands with people at one point, and there were people fighting each other! It was gross and bloody! Like, uh... like that time I did murders for the Red Ribbon Army. That sucked. I think it mostly did, anyways. Oh, but here, I've found the place now, the place to go for signing up to the tournament, I'm here, it's brilliant, and why are there people in front of me? They're going to takes too long and I'll not get in! Opar.
...no, wait, they're moving. Okay, it doesn't takes too long, then. I get there, which is good, and get given a form and a pen to writes with. I write stuff down about myself, uhhh... my name, obviously Expial; my power level of twelve thousands, which should be more but oh well; my race, Majin; and, um, uh, stuff that doesn't matter. There's blank bits, so whatevers. I give it back, and after somes times and writing things into the form that I missed, I'm given my passes, and get sent to my room. Do I looks like a human children to you? You cannot send me to my room! Except, opar, they can, because I need to be in the places that are for sleeping. I guess. Oh well, whatevers. So I have my room, all is wells, and, um... uh... I'm going to explores now, so maybe I can talks to people for some times. Shikalurr, here I come dirts! It's Expial doing his best socialness.

So this is just a generic introduction post for how Luceptor and Expial get inducted into the tournament and the planet in general. I'm assuming they haven't met anyone else yet, and that they don't know who else is here at the moment, so anyone can come across... well, Luceptor's training in his room, so probably just Expial whenever they like, if desired. Incidentally, how do other Makaioshin interact with the Negative Manipulation fields of any given Makaioshin? Do they automatically know that one of their fellows are present, do they sense that something might be up and extrapolate from there, do they react to one another in the same way as any mortal would, or does the reaction vary depending on which Makaioshin is within which other Makaioshin's area of influence? This is important information to learn.

The Arcosian brothers had finally obtained their coveted battle forms and were eager to prove their father wrong. Glacier, usually more reserved then his brother Glacial, even had a impromptu excitement in his step, still he kept a set distance from Glacial, as they strode the stairway. They had been training on the lowest levels, where no Arcosian with a sense of pride would dare tread . All the long grueling hours had paid off and they would see them justified, if it was the last thing they did. With each bounding step Glaciers’ pride grew, his hour had come.

Finally he reached the fourth level, only moments after his rambunctious brother. The two turned together and started off down the cavern halls leading to their cavernous home. Reaching the large doors, ready to barge in, to demand their right to the trials of manhood, they stopped. The resonating voice of their father halted their triumphant entry, “I don’t care if they have completed their combat forms!”

Glacier reached out instinctively to hold his brothers wrath back, at their father, before he could, their mother spoke, calming Glacial far better then he ever could hope for. “If they are able to utilize the combat form we can not keep them from going out on their own. It is our way, if they can they must.”

Their father went on ranting and raving about the shame, oh the endless shame, the two have and will continue to bring down upon the family. The two turned enraged, not wanting to listen to the endless babbling of their father, neither did they want to cause more heart ache for their mother by busting in on them. Seething with anger Glacial turned to walk back down the hallway when he spouted, “We don’t need that old mans permission. All we need is a heart.”

Before Glaciers’ brother could walk pass him, he clasped Glacials’ should, with a tense glare in his eyes said, “For once brother I agree with the rash nature you posses. We will force his acknowledgement and get our revenge. We will show him shame.” The two strode off with a new unwavering purpose.

Inside the chamber on the ship slept a weak boy tapped into a dangerous power. While those around him discussed his potential, the young Saiyan's dreams were mired in an endless nightmare. Though he knew he was living in a memory, it made the terror and pain no less real. When the boy attained the power he longed for, the power had killed his father.

Not the power... Thought the boy, as he watched the scene again, his body glowing green and an enormous power overwhelming him. His mind played through the events that followed, as his rage at his own weakness led on a rampage. It was not the power, it was me. A savage beast hidden inside my cage of weakness.

The boy would continue to float inside his chamber of torment, haunted by memories until the ship reached the orbit of Arcose. Meanwhile, outside the chamber, the scientist, pilot and warrior still spoke of the suffering Saiyan. The scientist murmured, “Dr. Hound sacrificed himself for this project, to give this boy the power he longed for. I believe that he will continue to produce results, though we will need to find a way to make his base form stronger.”

“Continue to play your games with the boy, but I doubt they will amount too much. The boy is too weak to begin with,” Stated the woman Saiyan flatly.

“Out of more than a handful of children, only once survived the gene therapy. Only one, was strong with the potential to control the power,” Returned Dr. Corgie, his voice as flat as the woman's as he continued to watch the displays on the tank.

“What are you watching?” Asked the Pilot, his eyes moved from the Saiyan to the scientist.

“The boy's brain readings, which seem troubled. They always seem troubled while he is sleeping, ever since he awoke from his coma.”

“You're not going to give him anything to help him sleep better?” The pilot queried, watching the boy in the chamber twitch.

It was the Saiyan woman who answered the Pilot's second question, “There is no drug which conquers fear, only those that suppress it. If he can overcome this, he might actually be worth these tests.”

The younger twin led the elder back down the stairs, they passed freely and without obstruction. That is until they reached the one of the gates on the first floor. Like the other two gates of the mountain belonging to the Red Clan, this one was guarded by a strong warrior in his Combat Form. The guard paced back and forth, stopping the Servants coming through on occasion to see what was being brought into the mountain.

Glacier's feet stopped moving and he leaned toward his brother, his lips parted and he started whispering, “See the big guy? There is only one of him! I say we take him out!”

With that excited whispering, the Arcosian took off running toward the guard at the gate. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Glacier spooked many of the Servants and dashed forward. He looked back once to try catching the look on his brother's face. Turning back toward the task at hand, he dove beneath of the guard and kept on running.

Once he had gotten a safe distance away from the gate, the boy slowed and started to look around. Glacier turned around, not entirely sure he would find his brother there, but still confident, “Did you really think I was going to fight that guy?”

For a long while Azamat had stood beside Piccolo, his eyes watching the carnage going on below them. One match ended and another started, this one pitting two mixed bloods against some sort living liquid metal that froze everything it touched. The Makaioshin's mind wandered, still exploring the coliseum even while his body stood motionless.

Though the Demon King Piccolo knew his master's mind was elsewhere, the Namekian also knew he would not be able to touch the Demon God. He had tried once before and it had ended quite painfully. Piccolo could not know the extent of his master's powers but he knew they were formidable enough. The Namekian shrugged and continued to watch the two Arcosians trying to struggle away from the liquid metal even as it froze them alive.

The Pride of Evil's mind lie at the edge of his reach, which was not all that far. Still it was enough for the Makaioshin to pick up on a faint familiar sensation, the feeling of amplified evil. His mind reached out and grasped it, touched it and discerned which one had decided to come to the tournament. Oozing from the feeling of evil was the sense of Deceit. He knew the other Demon God would notice him soon enough, if he had not already.

Azamat broke the trance, returning his presence fully to his body. For a moment the man stood there wondering if he should pay the other of his kind a visit, if only to remind the other of his position. Never one to ignore a chance to stroke his own ego, the Pride of Evil turned away from the Demon King and strode away. Slightly annoyed, Piccolo said nothing as the Makaioshin stepped through one of his portals.

It was not directly in Luceptor's room, that Azamat eventually stopped, instead being courteous enough to stop outside his door. Rapping his fist against the door, he called to his kin on the other side, “I take it you haven't forgotten about me, little liar.”

It didn't take long for me to figure out that at least two of my fellows were present in the colosseum with me, and the Demon King Piccolo with them. Perhaps I anticipated it subconsciously, since I knew that said Demon King usually attends the Galactic Tournaments, Makaioshin attendants and all. Or maybe I didn't anticipate it in any way whatsoever. I couldn't say when exactly I determined they were here. Regardless, it didn't particularly matter to me at the precise moment of realisation that one of the Demon King's attendants was Azamat, since his pride-spreading wouldn't interfere with my own goal of deception-inducing, though I did have the idea that maybe he'd end up being somewhat... not troublesome, but prideful as ever, and with the desire to rub in his abilities the way he usually does, master of space that he is.
I just thought he might take a bit longer before turning up. I've barely gotten started on training.
'I figured, but did not want to assume, o lord,' I call out in a quite luxurious voice, heading over to the doorway and opening it. Yes, that's him alright - ever the most handsome of our number, save when I develop yet another form suited for persuading mortals to do wrong. I'm willing to bet he won't be too pleased at how attractive I've made my present form; I suppose it'd be best to make sure I don't accidentally knock his ego too hard by mocking him on top of that. 'And pray tell, what brings you into my presence at this time? You do not usually talk to your fellows unless you wish to inform us of how superior you are to us; if I may, I'd hope such is not the case this time around.' In truth, I don't really care that much, and I'm sure he probably knows it, given that we've been communicating... alright, we've been somewhat near one another for an absurd amount of time. When there are only a few people worth talking to at all for that long, you get to know one another's mindsets quite intimately, whether you wish to or not. I wished to, for it tended to help my own plans, social graces, and etcetera; I know for a fact that others did not, being far removed from anything like a reasonably social mindset, but either way, it happens.

@Thess I thought his name was Azamat, not Azamath? You seem to have added an "h" to the end of his name, is all. You've also used "Glacier" rather than "Glacial", so you might want to fix that as well.

The android knew nothing of the world as it opened its eyes for the first time. Text and shapes danced over the scenery for a second as its subsystems analysed everything. At first it could only stand there and watch as words like “structural integrity”, “organic life form” and “lumen” appeared, were given a number and then disappeared again. It was not alone, something was there with him. A “humanoid”, “male” the words flashed as a reticule locked on to the organic life form and assigned a number to the entry “power level”, 4.
Another subsystem booted up, analytical circuits in the androids arms and legs began to run diagnostic tests. The left field of vision filled with rapidly scrolling text, names for different body parts, motors and circuits; programs and drivers. Each entry was followed by a percentage, starting at zero and rising too fast for the android to see any individual number. At the same time the humanoid poked around in another part of the room, a computer screen pulsed red and black not far from him, he was moving fast and carelessly. He ripped drawers out of desks and spilled the contents all over the floor, occasionally bending over to pick up a small trinket, soon the whole room was a mess.
The male turned around sharply and found himself staring into the glowing eyes of the android, he flinched and backed away just as the computer screen changed from a pulsating red/black to a steady green. Mechanical clasp loosened their grip on the android’s body and allowed the motors in its legs to take the weight before letting go completely. In less than a second the male had produced a weapon and aimed it at the android. “What are you?” He asked. A loading bar appeared in front of the android, “Loading dictionary”. He didn’t wait, the first shot went off almost immediately after he’d spoken. A myriads of subsystem came to life in an instant. Before the bullet hit the android’s left shoulder it had been analysed and its speed, force, and composition determined, as well as the fact that the projectile could not harm it. The bullet simply bounced off and slammed into the wall behind it.
“Answer me!” The male demanded and corrected his aim, this time going for the head. The dictionary had loaded up, but the systems responsible for producing speech sounds were far down on the list of prioritised systems. It could only understand, not reply. The android raised his hand to appear non-threatening, but it only prompted the male to squeeze the trigger once more. A tracker appeared and highlighted the tiny projectile as it cut through the air. The android’s hand moved almost by itself to intercept, but the systems hadn’t been completely linked yet. The bullet hit its target and forced the android’s head back.
Not one to push a conversation, the male let loose again. Two more bullets were swatted at ineffectively before the linking software had done its duty. The android moved like lightning and slapped the fifth bullet out of the way, sending it straight into the green computer screen. The sixth was caught, as was the seventh and each after that. Once the weapon had emptied its clip the android opened its hand and let the captured bullets fall to the ground.
Eyes wide as saucers, the male stumbled backwards, fell over and then scrambled to his feet. A part of the wall disappeared and revealed a long corridor leading away and slightly upward. The male ran, and the piece of wall slid back. The android wanted to follow, but was unsure if it’d be able to take a single step. Better to wait until all systems were operational.

Darkness enveloped the room. It was quiet. Probably night time.
Harkon was supposed to be asleep, but the last week or so he’d been unable to shut his eyes even for a moment. If he let his eyelids drop he’d be subjected to the worst torture imaginable in the form of nightmares so real that they left scars on his body that would take several minutes to heal properly.
He prefered being awake, he’d refused to be sedated even for the most grueling and ruthless of operations. Many of the human scientists had hesitated, or left the room once he’d started to scream. They’d cut up every inch of his body, they’d cut off pieces of his organs for testing and left him to heal himself, they’d shocked him with electricity, dipped his fingers in acid and ice, talked for hours without pause and shown him imaged of everything from starving children to playing puppies. They’d done anything they could to get any kind of response. They’d said that they were looking for a reason. Why could Harkon contain the corruption without being touched by it himself? How? Was he special in some way? Was it the fusion technique? Was there a way to save all Namekians from the corruption?
Harkon had let them. Heäd suffered in silence while their scalpels tore through his skin. He’d bitten his tongue when they removed his whole arm and assured them that he’d be able to grow a new one. But no longer.
Back then he’d been able to speak. Limac still spoke softly to him as the humans turned off the lights. That had hanged. Haron was unsure how and why, if the tests had somehow provoked the corruption, or it it had just been a matter of time. The nightmares had come, first one night per week, then two, three, four… Limac still spoke to him, offering comfort and advice, it had felt good even though everything he wanted was to be held tightly.
Three days ago Limac stopped talking. There was still a voice, and it sounded like Limac, but it was not he. Limac was a warrior, but also a harmonious soul. This new voice was angry, menacing. It threatened Harkon in the dark hours of the night. It showed him horrible images and told him that Limac was suffering unworldly pains because of him.
No more. He couldn’t take it any more. The voice was too strong. It could not be silenced.
“I want out of here, out of this room, out of this body.” The voice said. “I’ll get out of here, step aside, weakling.”

Normally Harkon would’ve fought, he had to stay, to help his race. But he felt his consciousness being pushed back, and something else come to the front. He lost all control, and could only watch helplessly as his body forcefully broke all constraints. It ripped the enforced door out of the wall and threw it against the humans that had been assigned to guard his room. Harkon’s body made it’s way through the underground base like it knew every inch of the place. It slaughtered everyone who came in his way, regardless if they were a threat or not. Even those that turned and ran were chased down and beaten to death. Harkon had seen war, he’d been told that “war is hell”. But no, war was horrible. Hell was being trapped in your own body, listening to someone else laugh with your voice.

The last door fell with a heavy thud. It was almost a meter thick and required two massive engines to open and close it. Yet a single blast from Harkon’s hands had been enough to knock it out of the wall. Daylight almost blinded him, he’d been sure that it had been night when the voice had taken over. How long had his body walked through the complex? Had it really been hours?
The voice crept back into his skull and laid down to rest somewhere near his neck.
“I’m tired now, your turn.” It said, and Harkon almost fell over as full control was once again his. He became aware of the sirens, alerting CC’s security guards, also known as saiyans. Surely, he could reason with them? Go back inside and allow himself to be captured.
He turned around and looked into the hallway splattered with blood, dismembered bodies and broken equipment. Perhaps not...

Glacier, slowly followed his younger twin down the stairs at his own steady pace, the two passed easily without trouble. That was until they reached the one of the gates on the first floor. Like the other two gates of the mountain belonging to the Red Clan, it was guarded by a strong warrior in his combat form. Slowly the guard paced back and forth, only stopping to check the occasional servants supplies they were bringing into the mountain.

Suddenly his younger brother stopped and quickly leaned back towards him.
"This, is exactly why I cant walk without caution with him. I've had enough head butts to the face from his, so called quick thinking."
Glacier listened to his younger brothers ludicrous plan at suicide. He decided to just sit back and see how his brothers brilliant plan worked out, he was by no means going to get himself murdered.

Glacier was startled, even knowing his brothers plan, but when he broke off in a run screaming like a banshee, Glacier did not expect that one. Everyone shocked, startled and the downright terrified servant or two, they all dropped what they were doing to stare at ths maniac, even the guard was stunned at the reaction of Glacial. Any other time you would of seen the guard use force to stop the extruder, but he hesitated letting him slip pass. Glacier saw this, a theory popped into his mind. He now needed to test his theory on the guard peculiarly did this.

Glacier began to make his way to the guard, the commotion started settling down, a few servants flickered their gaze to and from Glacier walking by, the rest carried on again. Once reaching the guard, who was now well composed again, he looked up to him. Clenching his fists together he began channeling his energy and rage, bursting forth into his new battle form and faster then he ever had before.

"I'm here with that imbecile" he pointed off to his brother. "We are here for the trials." Glacier folded his arms awaiting the guards answer.

The guard stared at the now battle ready Glacier for a moment before speaking. "It's about time you two did something. Your mother already informed me of your newest development, all I need is to see the rash ones battle form and you both may pass.". He pointed off to Glacial, not even turning to look at him.

"Mother, I figured she had a hand in this, if father had this would of turnd out a whole lot less, well bruiseless."

“Tis ever my goal,” Murmured the Pride of Evil, a smirk upon his lips even as his deep crimson eyes wandered over Luceptor. The smirk never faltered, as he took in the changes his kin had made in there entirety. After a few moments of silent observation, Azamat spoke, “I see you have made for yourself a new form. This one is very nice looking. No one would ever know you are really a snake in the grass.”

After that last remark the Makaioshin waved his hand in a dismissive manner, “No, please me as it does to remind others of their place, I actually had a reason for this visit. As I have been by the Demon King Piccolo's side, I have been without much news of the rest of the North Galaxy.”

He paused, as if contemplating something, “And I figured who could be more fun to ask, than the little liar? Can I discern the truth from the lie? Indubitably, but is it not the chance of failure that makes one look truly strong?”

As all of the previous questions were rhetorical, the eldest of the Makaioshin stepped through Luceptor and into the room, “This is the room of the participant. Interesting... Why are you planning on joining this tournament?”

His words falling on ears that had not quite caught up with him, Glacial watched his twin approach at a more leisurely pace. When his elder brother had reached him, the younger of the two sighed and shook his head, “It was mother, right? I ran out yelling like an idiot and mother was already more than a step ahead!”

In a pouting manner, the younger Arcosian stormed off through the snow heading away from the mountain belonging to the Red Clan. He was not sure that he was heading in the right direction, but he was now too annoyed to care. His father was certain they would shame the entire clan but his mother was willing to risk letting them out.

As he trudged on in silence, still sorting out his thoughts, Glacial kept coming back to how stupid he must have looked to the guard. Eventually, when he felt as if he would burst from frustration, the young Arcosian stopped and let loose a resounding roar at the frozen wastes around him. Once he had finished roaring at the icy nothingness, it was followed by a second sigh, though this one was clearly relieved.

Seconds later, something answered his roar, it sounded like two icebergs crashing together in the middle of an ocean, a terrible long grating sound peppered by sounds like shattering glass. Unable to admit his own fear of this very real test, Glacial took off running toward the sound. While his legs carried him, his mouthed opened and he called out, “Bring it on, you frozen chunk of lard!”

The boy's brain patterns spiked again, grabbing the scientist's attention. He fiddled with a few knobs as he muttered to himself, “I wonder what troubles him.”

“Dr. Hound was the original head of this project, right?” Asked the pilot as he watched the scientist.

Again the Saiyan woman answered the pilot's question, “Dr. Hound was, until his son killed him with a power which he should never have been given.”

That was all the information the pilot needed to piece together the issues the boy in the tank was facing, “So, in an accident over which he had no control, as a result of the experiment his father performed on him, this boy killed Dr. Hound?”

“That would sum it up,” Replied the Saiyan woman, her words barely a whisper.

The pilot was beginning to understand the story behind the teenager, he had slowly been piecing it together for a while, but one thing that still did not fit was this woman. He wanted to question her about how she fit into this little puzzle but he dare not ask her. The pilot could tell this woman was no grunt, likely she had some pull of her own. After some silence he had the nerve to ask, “So, are you here to contain the boy if he gets out of hand?”

The woman snickered at the question and shook her head, “No, I am just here to see if continued tests are worth pursuing or if the boy is just a loose end that need be cut.”

I've mentioned to Azamat before that walking through somebody you're talking to is very rude. He doesn't care, of course. Still, there is such a thing as courtesy; exercising it tends to put you in many people's good graces. Good for me, potentially good for him for different reasons. But I digress. I turn to face Azamat, closing my door behind me and leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over my chest.
'Well, there are many possible reasons I could give for why I'm here, which may or may not be related to deception or increases in the aforementioned,' I say non-chalantly. 'Many of those reasons would likely be false, others might be true. My main reason, however, and one that I assure you is true, is that I have nothing better to do with myself at present.'
And that's also a lie, at least in the sense that there's probably at least one other thing in the universe I could be doing that would be better suited for me to engage in than this tournament. It just so happens that I don't know what those are at this precise moment, meaning that technically speaking, I'm not acting in a deceitful manner at the moment.
'That being said, if you're looking for new information, I have nothing particularly choice to offer. So far as I am aware, o lord, the state of the mortal realm and our own is near-identical to how it has been since the inception of the First Galactic Tournament- that is to say, in a state of feigned truce that could boil over at any moment.' I neglect to mention why this is the case, that being my involvement with developing new techniques and training myself in magic use, instead simply rolling my shoulders and smiling at Azamat once again.

@Thess

Glacier walked past the guard with a smug look on his face, directed deliberately at Glacial. "I love a good Glacial humiliation in the morning." He began walking to Glacial, trying to reach his side, when he just took off storming into the fray. Glaciers' head dropped, with a long sigh, he took off after his impatient little twin. "Every time, every time! Something dose not go his way, and off he goes. Rushing head first into what ever crap he can accidentally find first. Then, it's up to Glacier, to save his scrawny little neck from what ever. While trying to keep my own neck at the same time! I might add." Glacier let out an anger filled growl, it went unheard in the icy winds. Relief filled him, clearing his mind.

Glacier trekked on, trying to keep sight of his twin was near impossible, out in the icy winds of Arcose. Moments later he lost sight of his brother, Glacier, started to fret at the thought of losing his brother out here. "What is with these whiteouts? It's not usually this bad." Just then he heard the loud howl of his brother off to the left of him. "Thank the gods!" He began running towards the sounds of his brother.

"Glacial! Glacial! Glai..." Glaciers' voice stopped dead in his throat. The snow and ice blizzard complete seceded as he broke through some strange wall. The weather was so still here. Glaciers' eyes looked straight ahead now, in awe. His ears cringed at the earth shattering sounds of not one, but two gargantuan mountains, doing what they called battle. They reshaped the very land their massive crustacean like legs stood on. Glacier, for the first time in his life felt like but a grain of sand in the large scale of things. His hand clenched into a fist, a grin peeled open across his face. Pure excitement and adrenaline filled his pulsating veins at the sight of a true, un-staged, rule free battle. He had never felt this before and he was hooked, the Arcosian blood that filled him, had for the first time truly awakened.

Glacier, for the first time in what seemed to be forever noticed his brother, he was flying head long into the midst of the two gods of their domain. Not to be out done or miss his chance, he blasted off at speeds he had never reached before. Fueled by his intense passion, the past generations of his line screaming for blood. Catching up with his brother was all he could think of.

Luceptor did not seem to pick up on Azamat's own deception, his new abilities allowed him to gain information quite easily. The smirk seemed to deepen a little at this knowledge, the Pride of Evil taking pride in having deceived his kin. Shrugging, the Makaioshin spoke, “That's too bad. I was hoping you would be a bit more useful to me. Still, I suppose you are right, nothing much has changed. Though that may not be the case for too much longer.”

Dropping that hint of his own plans was the true nature of his visit. He did indeed have plans, ones which should make things so much more interesting. Plans that could be furthered along by one with skills like Luceptor's. The hint dropped like a line in still waters, Azamat added the bait, “I would say you seem as bored as ever, but bored never quite seemed to be the right word. Apathetic, that would be the word for which I have been searching to describe you. Hopefully, this tournament can provide you with a bit of fun, awaken you back to life. But if not...”

He let his words hang and watched Luceptor for a reaction, though the Makaioshin knew that his brethren would likely show none. Still, it amused him to try and find something in Luceptor, which his kin might not even be aware of. While he watched, the Pride of Evil leaned back against the open space behind him.
@BCTheEntity

As Glacial laid eyes on not one but two of the giant frozen crustaceans locked in mortal combat, he paused for a single moment. The battle was breath taking as the two monstrous creatures slammed into each other. The moment quickly passed and the Arcosian was again running toward the two, his warrior blood begging him to join such a fray. His thoughts began to race as fast as his feet, ”I'll conquer not just one of these beasts, but both of them! I'll tear them limb from limb! I'll tear those frosted hearts right out of their thick frozen shells!”

When the younger twin neared his prey, his thoughts were cut short as a shadow overtook him. A leg from the larger of the two came crashing down upon him, sending him flying back. Standing up, Glacial's eyes took on a menacing tone as he slid his legs apart. The tell tale roar of one unleashing their power escaped his lips as an aura surrounded his body.

The horns on his head shrank, as his body grew. The thick white protective shell of his torso, began to creep forth and cover him. His gems grew in number from two, his head and chest, to four as the shell reached his shoulders. Spines burst from his back and sides of his forearms. As the shell covered his hands and feet, four more gems gleamed into existence.

By the end of his transformation, the diminutive younger twin was replaced by a force to be reckoned with, or so he thought. Glacial dashes forward and began to punch the leg that had dared to land on him. Even then, the monsters ignored the Arcosian.

In the moments it took for him to reach his brother, Glaciers' entire form had changed from his battle form to his true form. In his intense thirst for battle, Glaciers' body now took on a complete smooth exterior, with his tail elongating twice it's normal length. The red gems numbered four, one in the mid of his chest , the largest on the top of his head and two smaller ones on his shins. Glacier had unintentionally taken on his true form in his excitement.

"Ahhh!" Glacier screamed, flying at his top speed, fist out, straight into the same leg his brother had been pounding to no prevail. Glaciers' fist collided with the beasts gargantuan leg with a resounding thud. The force of the blow caused a gust of wind to blow around him. for a moment nothing happened, when a ear splitting cracking started. Glacier smirked. "Hah! Obviously my blood's stronger then his!" The crack continued up the leg till a loud snap could be heard, then nothing.

Glacier stared at his fist for a moment, then the leg, and the fist again. In shock that the leg looked perfectly fine. "I know I did something. I heard it, I felt it. But why?" He turned to see his brother, "Glac...." Even before he could finish his brothers name, Glacier, got his answer. BAAAM! A massive chunk of ice, if it could be called a chunk, that was shook loose from his impact came slamming down on him.

The sudden hit that took him by surprise knocked the wind out of him. Gasping for air the ice chunk took him all the way to the ground. With a loud thump, he hit, the sound lost in the storm of the giants rage, a huge poof of snow engulfed Glacier and his new ice tumor from view.