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Old Man Onigiri

A street-smart Taiyou immigrant and Terran Militiaman.

0 · 505 views · located in Wing City Plaza

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Nemo

Groups

Massive Empire stretching tens of thousands of planets nestled within the nearby Andromeda Galaxy
Registered citizen of the Terran National Government

Description

Old Man Onigiri


Image


A Taiyou immigrant who came to Terra to sell his rice patties. Due to a series of mishaps involving the Food and Drug Administration, he is now homeless. Wandering the streets of Wing City, he chanced upon a Terran Militia Recruitment Station and came inside because he smelled someone cooking chicken tenders. The recruitment officer, who happened to be drunk at the time, made him a militiaman almost on the spot.

Onigiri takes his responsibilities as a Militia Officer very seriously. Since he has no formal "job" so to speak, he spends most of his time pawning the free equipment he gets from the TNG and prowling Wing City in search of bad-guys. Although a sneaky, unsavory, scoundrelish man, Onigiri is a good-man at heart. He maintains a deep sense of honor and abides by a strict code of morality; actively striving to protect the citizens of Wing City and lending a helping hand as often as it is needed.

Onigiri's history is a deep, perplexing mystery. Even the title 'Old Man' is misleading. Onigiri is roughly only twenty-seven years old, his nickname merely being the product of his frequently stubborn, angry attitude and gruff persona. If asked about his first name, he dissolves to a fit of cusses and threats and will pointedly ignore the question. When profusely drunk, however, he will often refer to himself as 'Ken' or 'Kenshin.' Occasionally, he will make references to the name 'Hakuro' and 'Sakura', especially during alcohol-induced emotional caprices.

Despite having the appearance of a (comparatively clean) mendicant, Onigiri possesses a wide-array of incredible skills. He is an extremely formidable fighter, and is a learned master in three different styles of martial arts: Wado Ryu, Kuk Sool Won, and Taekwondo. He is a skilled swordsman, particularly with a katana, where his training in Araki Mujinsai Ryu and advanced Kendo is spotlighted. He is proficient in a wide-variety of weapons from all over the galaxy, including explosives and energy artillery. Onigiri is also a dexterous athlete and gymnast, capable of preforming acrobatic feats that would make gold-medal Olympians green with envy. His skills in ice-skating, wrestling and archery are practically at a professional skill-level, and the Taiyou has also demonstrated exceptional prowess in pole vaulting, shooting and interpretive dance.

Athletics and combat aside, Onigiri is a learned scholar. He maintains a vast understanding of advanced calculus, physics, chemistry and biology, complimented with a smattering of botany and basic medical training. He fluently speaks Taiyou, Lingua Anquietas, Gemonese, Belkan and Erution. He speaks a fair bit of unpolished Basic (English) and Spanish, coupled with a very small comprehension of Russian, French and African Portuguese. He has a deep love for poetry and the written arts, and will often make blatant claims that Patrick Rothfuss plagiarized the entire Kingkiller Chronicles after a short-story he wrote when he was seven. In terms of transportation, he knows to handle just about any vehicle with a steering wheel, be it a combat jeep or a single-seating formula racer. He can efficiently pilot both modern planes and most basic spacefaring transport ships. Despite this, he is completely incapable of riding a bicycle.

Where and when he acquired such an education is unknown, and when asked about it, will usually just respond: "I ate my vegetables as a child."

So begins...

Old Man Onigiri's Story

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#, as written by Nemo
Old Man Onigiri stumbled into the bar, a curious paper-bagged bottle in his hands and a clipboard under his arm. He took a moment to steady himself at one of the nearby tables, blinking rapidly as if trying to bring himself back into focus. It seemed to take him a moment to remember where he was.

"Ah... GAHMBITS." The man spoke with a thick Japanese accent. He drew a deep breath through his nostrils, contemplating the scent with obvious care. Tangy.

"Let me see..." Onigiri shook his head rapidly, setting his bottle down and thumbing through the clipboard. "...'Vegeshin?' Six foot... long robe... purple hair..." Onigiri's eyes shot up to the half-Saiyan's vibrant violet locks almost immediately. Purple hair!

"You there!" he called out in an almost accusing tone, "you are Vegeshin, hai?!" He began to walk towards the man, his stride slurred and staggering.

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#, as written by Nemo
"Whuh? Know me?" the Taiyou immigrant made an incredulous face, "why would you know me? That makes no sense. We've never met before!" Although Onigiri's accent was strong, his English seemed more-or-less solid. If this guy wasn't a native Terran, he'd certainly been here a while.

"Now then, my name is Onigiri!" he reached out and attempted to grab Vegeshin's hand whether he offered to him or not, "pleasure to meet you! Honored! Charmed!" Releasing his hand, the Taiyou suddenly snapped into a rigid posture like a soldier called to attention. "NOW. You want to join Militia, hai? You want to be an officer, HAI?"

Onigiri took little notice of Lumierre. His only acknowledgement of the elf girl's presence was a brief glance over in her direction and a not-so-brief glance over her breasts.

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#, as written by Nemo
"HUH?!" Onigiri snapped out of his attention as if he'd just jolted out of a dream. It took the immigrant roughly five seconds to remember what he was doing here.

"Oh, yes!" he nodded, clearly pleased to have remembered his purpose, "militia! Recruitment! You want to join, hai?" He peered at the Saiyan-Youkai hybrid through squinted eyes. "Tell me this. Are you good man? You follow law? Protect innocent people? Recycle plastic bottles? HAI?!" He nearly lunged at Vegeshin as the interrogation finished, his face mere inches from the Saiyan's. The scent of cheap sake was ripe on his breath.

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#, as written by Nemo
"Yes yes, very good, yes." Onigiri nodded as he was pushed away. He turned toward his clipboard and began furiously scribbling notes, his brows knitted in what appeared to be infuriating concentration.

"LAST QUESTION!" he snapped to attention yet again, his rough voice resounding about the bar as effectively as any megaphone could. The immigrant remained silent for another ten seconds, death-glaring the Saiyan in a dramatic showdown. The tension couldn't have been cut with a Destructo Disk.

"...do you like my jacket?" Onigiri's hardened expression softened almost instantly into what appeared to be a genuine questions. He gestured toward the leather jacket draped over his shoulders. Although large, it looked fairly new... and appeared exponentially nicer then the rags he was otherwise wearing.

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Old Man Onigiri perked a curious brow at Vegeshin, the stirrings of a deep intellect welling in his eyes. "Well said, Vegeshin."

Licking his fingers, the immigrant went back to his clipboard. "Now. You pass verbal interview." He nodded contently. "Next is... combat proficiency! Yes. We begin..." he rolled up his sleeve nonchalantly, checking over a beat-up wristwatch. "...in... roughly... IMMEDIATELY!"

With blurring speed, the immigrant suddenly let go of his clipboard, lashing out at Vegeshin with a solid straight-punch aimed for the Saiyan's jaw. His dexterity and power was blinding, nearly inhuman in a way. The force backed behind the strike might have been enough that, if connected, would send the de-energized Saiyan sprawling over the bar counter.

Whoever this man was, he was more then just an Asian hobo in a nice jacket.

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With wide eyes, Onigiri watched Vegeshin effortlessly dodge his blow. He was fast... faster then the immigrant had been lead to believe. The legendary combat prowess of Saiyans transcended the far corners of the Multiverse. Although he'd never admit it, Onigiri was thrilled to see if the myths were true first-hand.

As the fighter struck, his free hand came up to his face, expecting to parry some counter-blow. When the glass of ice-water splashed towards his eyes, the Taiyou managed to throw his sleeve over his field of vision, keeping the liquid from momentarily blinding him. The energy from his misplaced punch, meanwhile, was not simply going away. Onigiri moved with his blow, using the momentum of his swing to dive over the bar counter even as Vegeshin lunged for his shirt collar. With all the nimble dexterity of a trained martial artist, Onigiri sprung on to the wood tabletop, avoiding Vegeshin's grapple and hand-sprung off the counter. He landed on his feet on the other side of the bar.

Onigiri gave the Saiyan a curious nod... before lashing out in a flurry of attacks. Within a span of seconds, the Taiyou had launched a successive storm of strikes: two punches to the face, three palms to the neck, one double-fisted slam to the chest. He seemed to be relying on speed more then strength here.

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Vegeshin's grab was successful, and Onigiri came crashing down on the counter with a grunt. He peered up at the Saiyan from where he lay, offering the man a small smile.

"Who'd have thought YOU could fight!" he was grinning from ear-to-ear, "I can hardly take you seriously, wearing a DRESS and all!"

That said, Onigiri would lash out even from where he lay on the bar; his left foot blurring across his torso to land a kick on the back of Vegeshin's neck from where he stood looking down on the Taiyou. Successful or no, Onigiri would brace himself against the bar with his hands, flipping off of the counter in a single fluid motion. Once again, he landed on his feet. The immigrant assumed a quick fighting stance; left foot forward, right foot back with the heel off the ground. His hands lay open before his torso in ready position.

With a curt wink, the immigrant waited for the Saiyan's offensive. It was HIS turn to be aggressive.

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#, as written by Nemo
Although Vegeshin's elaborate skyward strike was obviously telegraphed, the power backed into the blow was formidable. Despite the fact that Onigiri managed to raise his hands and block the palm, the energy behind the strike still sent the Taiyou staggering forward directly into Vegeshin's flurry of attacks. He felt the full brunt of the Saiyan's storm, managing only to deflect two or three strikes to his chest. As the final hook and diaphragm combo found their marks on Onigiri's body, he was sent sprawling towards the floor.

"Not... bad..." the fighter grunted, struggling to lift himself back on to his feet. He indeed seemed to be quite out of it. "Very good, in fact. I'd say you've more then passed your combat proficiency test." The Taiyou smiled, limping forward and offering the Saiyan his hand. Indeed, this man seemed as if he were in no position to continue fighting.

It was all a ploy, of course.

The moment Vegi took his hand, IF he took his hand, Oni would lock the Saiyan's wrist in a death grip. Lashing out with his leg, the Taiyou would attempt to land a series of side-kicks against the man's torso and neck, even as he held him in place by his arm. Despite taking a serious beating not ten seconds ago, there appeared to be no diminishing of power or speed in Onigiri's form. He was as lethal and quick as ever.

After the hopefully successful flurry, he would let go of Veji's hand and finish the combination with a solid heel-kick to the Saiyan's sternum, attempting to send him flying backwards to the ground.

There was a shit-eating grin on the mendicant's face, of course.

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#, as written by Nemo
Somewhere around the second successful headbutt, Onigiri at last realized that he'd severely underestimated his opponent. As he struck the ceiling and came careening down into Vegeshin's waiting knee, he knew without a doubt that the Saiyan had utterly beaten him. Somewhere, some place, an announcer bellowed into his microphone: "K-O!"

Groaning from where he lay on the ground, face bloodied and bruised, Onigiri managed to collect himself on his hands and knees. After a series of grueling coughs and a waterfall of bloody-saliva, the Taiyou looked up at his opponent and grinned. "Ii faito." He nodded.

The Taiyou was suddenly aware of blood on the ground that was not his own. Onigiri's suspicious eyes traveled the length of the bar, setting themselves on Zul'nelk Darkarrow and his strange bag.

"Bag!" Onigiri stammered, looking pleadingly up at the Saiyan still unable to stand up, "blood! Shiraberu!"

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#, as written by Nemo
Slowly, Onigiri dragged himself over to the pool of blood, dipping his finger in the liquid and lifting it to his lips. He smacked his tongue against his teeth, contemplating the taste much as he had with the initial scent of the bar.

"Yes yes..." he nodded, still on the grount, "...chicken... pig... No! Rabbit! And..." Onigiri's eyes widened.

"You!" he pointed towards Vegeshin with surprising authority for a man with at least three broken ribs. "You pass! You militiaman! We will drink good sake and eat food later! For now, your first assignment!" He pointed towards the troll. "Look into that bag!"

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#, as written by Nemo
We'll talk to Az about that, Rulke. He's the one who'll be detaining Randin

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Old Man Onigiri groaned from where he lay, managing to prop himself up on a nearby table. He didn't say a word, but watched the procession curiously.

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Old Man Onigiri rolled his eyes. "By the stars, Vegeshin. You're more polite then a virgin Geisha." Picking himself up off his table, the Taiyou walked over to the troll with as much speed as he could muster.

"You," he glared at his suspect, "we are militia. The blood of a sentient beast drips from your bag. Either you empty the bag now, or things get very bad for you." He supported himself on the Saiyan's shoulder as he came near.

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Main Street 1

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#, as written by Nemo
Lies. Heads up. Angry Asian drug incoming.

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It was at that moment that a particularly loud drunk came bumbling into the parking lot, an empty bottle and a box of half-eaten chicken strips in his hands. His walk was a strange combination of sluggish drag and light-footed flit; as if he were weighed down by some enormous burden one moment and then swept along by a powerful wind the next. As he prowled, he sang a merry-tuned song. His voice, though rough and callous, carried well across the parking lot.

"Sake ga yasukatta... Josei wa kanari atta... Watashi no ikatteiru neko ni sen onsha... Watashi wa kyodaina zenritsusen o motte iru..."

He was slowly approaching the cars. Perhaps he'd left his cardboard box in one of the nearby alleyways...

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#, as written by Nemo
Old Man Onigiri watched the spectacle unfold before him with wide eyes. Just what was going on here? He saw a police car and what appeared to be an officer... and then several other men pointing guns at two unfortunate drivers. Undercover police officers? Onigiri watched as they blew out the tires to the car without identifying themselves as servants of the law. Nope. Not cops.

So here it was. Two Wing City citizens were likely about to be the victims of a well-orchestrated car theft or robbery. All of the pieces seemed to be in order. Viktor And Gabby were cornered. Their vehicle was incapacitated. Bad-guys were on every side. Whoever these men were, they made no mistakes in their business.

...except, of course, that they'd left Onigiri unattended.

Seeing as how the fake cop hadn't paid him any attention, the Taiyou sprung into action, winding back his hand and throwing the empty glass bottle at the side of the thug's head with tremendous speed. He sprinted forward even as the bottle soared, hoping to tackle the man into the car after the impact and finish him off with a quick strike to the nose if he wasn't already unconscious. If successful, Onigiri steal the man's keys, throw him out of the car and start the engine. He would then proceed to ram directly into the nearest Temple getaway-car with as much speed as can be mustered by flooring the gas-petal immediately after starting the car. Of course, Onigiri would attempt to ram the car that Myles wasn't already trashing.

It seems Lancaster and Onigiri thought in similar ways...

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#, as written by Nemo
Old Man Onigiri stumbled out of the wrecked car, still more-then-slightly drunk and now suffering from a major concussion.

"Nioi inkei..." he groaned, clutching at his temple. It was at this point that Onigiri noticed Perdix walking forward with a drawn sword. Desperately, the Taiyou reached into the squad car, searching for a weapon. His hands found a metal-laced police baton, and Onigiri held the weapon out in front of him and quickly assuming a perfect Kamae Jodo stance.

"Enough!" he barked, "submit or face the consequences!" He reeked of cheap sake.

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#, as written by Nemo
Old Man Onigiri ducked quickly, the slice of psychic energy cutting his baton clean in two. The Taiyou stood up slowly, looking at his now-useless weapon with stupefied anger.

"Eh?" he growled, "what have you done? What magic is this?" He glared up at Perdix as if he'd just called him a bad name. "Enough of your games!" That said, Onigiri would assume a quick horse-stance, taking a moment to breathe and center himself... before shooting his fists out in front of his torso. Perdix would suddenly feel a torrent of crushing force slam into his chest, likely sending him flying through the air if he did not protect himself properly. Onigiri had just unleashed a wave of swirling ki at the silver-haired soldier.

"YOU!" he pointed an accusing finger at the Yankee, his rough voice cracking like the end of a whip, "you point guns at citizens! Terran Militia here! You stop this NOW!"

The setting changes from Main Street 1 to Wing City Plaza

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#, as written by Nemo
People, of course, ran. Screamed. Wing City Plaza a busy place even at night, and mobs of unfortunate Terrans pooled away from the spectacle in a frenzy. It seemed no matter how many atrocities plagued Wing City on a daily basis, the citizens were always as scared as ever.

Bumbling forward with a suspicious looking bottle in his hand, Old Man Onigiri peered up at the battling mechs with a strange expression. "Whu..." He wasn't sure what to make of this. The only thing he'd seen that even REMOTELY resembled Mechs was when he'd sneaked into a movie theater a few years ago and watched half of Michael Bay's 'Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen.' He'd been subsequently kicked out when the staff finally caught him eating drinking straight from the slurpee-dispenser.

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#, as written by Nemo
All at once, silence pervaded where chaos had reigned. Any spectators had already fled, leaving the Plaza in disarray. Chunks of debris lay scattered about the streets.

Slowly, Onigiri approached the strange woman, taking an enormous swig of his bottle before talking to her.

"You." His pointed. His voice was gruff and demanding. "Are you alright? Is that robot yours?" He pointed to the damaged mech.

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#, as written by Nemo
"Hm. Not sure if you like." Onigiri was buzzed enough already to where he didn't mind sharing. He tossed her the bottle nonchalantly.

"So that... bug thing..." he pointed towards the smoking carcass of the other robot, "...that one yours too? It make a big mess. Lots of people were scared."

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#, as written by Nemo
"Uh hum. And how did it get here, then?" the Taiyou was obviously still suspicious. "You came out of the wall... as if from thin air. Where did you come from? I take it, you are not from Terra?" She certainly didn't look the part.

Onigiri also wouldn't attempt to hide his blatant stares as he looked over every inch of the woman's body... lingering in particular on her breasts and legs.

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#, as written by Nemo
"Not a clue in hell," the Taiyou said plainly, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from her bosom. "The Systems Alliance? What, some fancy galactic alliance? Like Union?" He squinted. "...you aren't some emissary, are you? Can I be expecting an army of these robots on our front-door step tomorrow morning, ready for war? Well? HAI?!" His voice increasingly got louder until it was borderline shout.

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"Micro singularity?" he made a curious face, "...wouldn't the matter-compression have flattened you whole?" His expression suddenly lit up. "Unless it was restricted! An 'Einsten-Rosen bridge', as the Terrans call it. 'Wormhole.' Yes. Hoi, that's strange! Of all the infinite places you could have landed, you come here!"

He looked at her questioningly. "...do you know where HERE is?"

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"Well then, I welcome you to Terra!" the Taiyou bowed in strict, military-fashion. "Unfortunately, your dramatic entrance has just cost the city of Wing City roughly five hundred thousand credits." He offered her his hand. "You're not under arrest since, from my eyes, it looks like you acted in defense. Come. We go to Militia Station. Get this sorted out, hai?"