Following the beheading incident of the snowman, Plasma was determined to maintain the course of action that was behaving as some actor. Upon his back, he felt the cold embrace of snow splattering beneath his bio-armour. Frigid, and utmost unsettling to most – Plasma had little trouble embracing the cold onto his body as he continuously remained motionless in the snow – the bark having slipped out of his grasp with a few inches for dramatic effect.

Plasma remained steadfast as he heard the crunchy noise of snow being crushed beneath the boot of his instructor, an approaching sound yet capable of enduring as it grew closer and louder. His eyes remained closed, as if deceased from the interaction, as the Saiyan looked down upon the grey gremlin – which resembled a changeling yet at the same time not. Foreign yet alien, with whoever knew what was mixed in there. Plasma’s hardened skin was slowly poked by Callion who sought to see if his student was still alive, something he obviously was, or perhaps he had suffered a heart attack due to the incompatible DNA inside of him.

Whichever the case was, Plasma was unmoved as his skin remained unaffected by the poke – and instead of bulging inwards, the point of impact, Plasma’s entire face promptly moved to the side before falling back into its original position. His blue tongue was still stuck out and was drooling onto the snow with each passing second. However, despite the odds against the courageous Callion – he continued the onslaught of pokes against the indomitable Plasma who remained steadfast in this battle of endurance. If Plasma had toes, instead of boots as typical to a bio-android, they would be wriggling against each other to withstand the might of Callion’s prelude to his most devastating technique – technique amongst legends.


Steeling himself as Plasma felt something hairy brush against his nose, the android would cease his breathing utterly – a trait oddly capable of due to his genetic nature. Suffering through the hostile treatment from Callion, Plasma’s urges to sneeze subsided for now as Callion kneeled by his side. There were numerous thoughts racing through Plasma’s head right now as to what was happening – and whilst Plasma was capable of sensing what was occurring around him to a degree, it did not include the ability to read minds. Discreetly gulping as the android remained utterly still on the snow, Plasma braced himself for the torture of his life.

Danger beyond reason, rational thoughts had been thrown out the window due to the allowance and decision to unleash it – perhaps cruel beyond words and evil that’d put fairy tales to shame, Plasma felt the full wrath of Callion’s ultimate technique.

Tickles.

It was easy at first to handle for Plasma as he steeled his nerves and questionable biological make-up, but the pressure continued to increase onto every cell and bit that was not covered by his natural armour. There were soon cracks appearing on Plasma’s façade, cracks that would slowly begin to make themselves known as the tip of his boot began tipping up and down. He couldn’t allow such a technique to outdo him, not yet, and whilst it would reveal that Plasma was still alive – he’d stick his own tongue inside of his mouth to grit his teeth with every ounce of power he could muster. It was a fight for survival this was, a fight to that could increase one’s power tenfold if one managed to endure the torture, but alas, Plasma knew at this time, he would not be the one to claim the mantle of tickle master.

Suffering the consequences of daring to withstand the irritable training thus far, Plasma would recoil from the tickling by spastic for the duration of the tickling as his façade failed to withstand the assault. Initially there would be the typical movements of someone being incapable of containing their laughter from the tickling, but Plasma’s genetic spastic background would promptly react differently after some time as he froze up and sought to ‘gently’ backhand Callion’s hands, then uphand, sidehand, high five Callion’s hand before daringly attempting to stick his index and middle finger up into Callion’s nostrils.

If one desires to defeat the beast before you – strike it where it breathes, for then it shall recoil. Distraught and recovering from the tickling, Plasma would roll onto his side before attempting a forward summersault above Callion for dramatic effect – and to extend Plasma’s legs to push Callion face-first into the snow! It’d be a devious daring attempt at the jaws of death, but Plasma was feeling experimental, and whilst he had suffered the cold embrace of nature, so too should Callion, for fun obviously!

If this was successful however, Plasma would roll forward and away from Callion who would presumably be smooching with the snow. Playfully obviously, but Plasma would continue his roll forward into the snow – similar to that of a blue hedgehog seeking to make its way away from the threat. It was intentional on Plasma’s behalf, and when he had gained some distance, at least hopefully, he’d extend his tail which was hidden away on his back. Locking eyes with wherever Callion was, Plasma would pull an imaginary lever on his tail as he began swooping up snow with it and took aim as if wielding a bazooka – right at Callion’s position.

Plasma perked his ‘eyebrows’ in utter confidence before unloading the magazine of snow that was inside his tail at Callion – barraging him with streams of snow similar to that of a gatling gun if possible. Plasma wasn’t done however as he braced himself in the snow and took a wide stance – suctioning up more snow and cranked an imaginary hatch on his tail as if cooling it down. Prematurely, or in anticipation of something from his mentor, Plasma would fly upwards with a powerful jump to barrage Carrion from above as if mimicking airplanes.

It was frigid inside of his tail, but Plasma shrugged it off as he heated himself up by flowing chi throughout his entire body – which meant he was going at his fullest strength – and exerting himself to the peak of his ability. His expression was stoic at first, but ever since he shot the first ball of snow, Plasma’s eagerness and thrilled spirit would slowly merge as his giggling face turned into a toothy grin before unleashing a loud cackle which could be made out to ‘KEKEKEKEKEKKEKEKEKEK’ across the village. Plasma might’ve forgotten that the duo was in a village at this point, but he was ensuring to miss the houses and focus with absolute focus and will onto Callion’s position.

He wasn’t going to go down in this snow fight without offering up a challenge – a challenge to wash the other’s face with the snow, and if push came to shove, the yellow snow. There was bound to something of the sacred snow somewhere, but it would have to wait as Plasma had to anticipate his challenger. Shaking off the thought of challenge, Plasma would charge the last bit of snow within his tail into a massive snowball directly at wherever Callion was. It would be the size of a snowman’s torso if this went uninterrupted, but the aim would so ever slight off as Plasma’s nose caught onto the snow out of habit and would involuntarily sneeze towards the end – throwing both the intentional aim and reading off for Plasma and whoever was spectating.

Plasma’s sneeze was as unrestrained as the android’s power in this moment, as the shockwave caused by it would blow Plasma backwards and further back into the air in a spinning session – rolling and coiling up as he spun at insane speeds. It’d be a prime opportunity for Callion however to swoop in and interject with his own counterattack, if he so wished to partake in this snow fight of Plasma’s. However, Callion reacted, Plasma would be spinning without restraint nor a care following the powerful sneeze – which also screwed over the beheaded snowman as he crumbled into snow, forever lost to the volatile nature of people aware of chi.

Plasma recoiled from his sneeze, still suffering the vast strength of the android’s genetically enhanced nostrils of pure power. Whilst he was a smaller, compact, creature of science, Plasma still possessed potent genes within his very being, genes from powerful races and entities that easily amplified his power albeit in ridiculous unhinged ways. Plasma felt power throughout his body, and incredible amounts of dizziness due to the power of his own sneeze – a sneeze that still had him spinning in the air till he went zooming into one of the trees within the village – bashing against it with his own body without intent, face-first. Plasma felt the wooden bark crash against his ashen face, splinters shattering everywhere whilst failing to pierce his toughened hide and armour.

Essentially stuck to the wooden bark of the tree, Plasma dug his nails into the sides of the trunk as he slowly applied careful pressure onto the sides to pull himself out of the embedded trap, he had gotten himself into. Quietly whimpering to himself due to the situation he had gotten himself into, Plasma was decently surprised and elevated that there had been not a single boot to his back as a method of payback for promptly owning his mentor. Shaking his head wildly to shake off the light concussion that was his imagination, Plasma spat out a bird that had gotten stuck in his mouth on his way over here – very gently, mind you. Whilst attempting to clear his throat, Plasma felt there was more than just a bird down there as he opened his mouth agape and showed his hand down there to pull out not only a squirrel, but a twig, acorn and a birdhouse. However, that got down there, Plasma wasn’t sure, but he was sure to mount it back onto the tree where he assumed it came from. Pulling out splinters from his palm, Plasma’s tail extended and injected itself into the tree as Plasma promptly let his grip slip and fell just to hang mid-air to see the world upside down from his newfound perspective.

There was the burning question as to where his teacher had just gone, and the question was quickly enough answered through Plasma’s innate ability to sense energy. Just question was when Plasma looked in that specific direction of Callion with his eagle sight of twenty vision, why was there nothing but a mound of snow in his place? It was less than a nanosecond before Plasma put the pieces together and facepalmed due to the stupidity at his own question to himself. There was however something else that stood out to him, why wasn’t his teacher moving along and continuing the path of whooping his bionic ass or something along those lines? It was puzzling to Plasma, at least till he pieced together that this was either some trial or test of some sort – question was simply for what? Was it to see how he’d react with utter strangers, keep on his guard, beware of some opponent he would not be able to sense or was it the drive and ambition with piqued interest to see how Plasma would react amongst the humane masses, and whether he could suppress the innate urge to raid their fridges with severe prejudice? There were endless possibilities that Plasma could think of as he dangled back and forth, but his keen senses picked up on something utmost unusual – which was the people emerging from their igloo houses, or whatever people called them and wandered around.


There were numerous people of varying sizes and ages – and those that were most energetic were the younglings, who got Plasma thinking of… weaponized plasma for absolutely no reason. Sniffling his nose, Plasma unplugged his tail from the bark and allowed himself to drop down onto the snow on both of his feet with a thump. Whilst he wasn’t weighing much, the addition of pure unadulterated strength and point of impact being so near to three caused a bunch of snow to get loose from the twigs above and fall onto Plasma’s crown, covering it completely. Violently shaking his head to the side, Plasma took notice of the kids approaching him at an alarming rate, and whilst that wasn’t enough – most of them were taller than the little shit-stain of an android that was Plasma. Enduring the humiliation, whilst it wasn’t truly humiliating, Plasma watched the with a careful eye as they got incredibly close. They were chattering, loud and quite jolly, which slowly rubbed off on Plasma as his innate mental guard slowly faltered amongst his peers. It was a plenty healthy interaction between Plasma and the villagers present as he engaged in a decently thoughtful conversation with the other kids, whilst having his little own twist of dialect and speech. Perhaps it was intentional on Plasma’s behalf, or not, but he was enjoying it to the fullest – even pulling some funny faces at the other kids which made them easily laugh. Although, there was the oddity of his tail on his back which made one of the kids awfully curious and confused as to what species Plasma exactly was. There was a cog in Plasma’s head that ceased to function within this very moment as he tried to recall something or offer a genuine answer to the fellow as to what in the world Plasma genuinely was.

Scratching the back of his crown as his eyes darted to the sides, Plasma sucked on his teeth as his expression lit up for a single moment before dimming down as the rational suggestion was brushed aside before it had already been thought. Squinting before an idea smacked into his head, Plasma would redirect their attention away from the subject by using the power of flight before them! Raising his finger up at him to ‘wait’ for a single moment and FOREFATHERS AND ALL, BEAR WITNESS to his little trick – Plasma’s feet let off the ground as began levitating above the ground! Plasma was utilizing the power of chi to fly, and the kids were baffled by his ability to do – even moving their feet and hands underneath Plasma’s feet to feel if there was something transparent keeping him afloat! There wasn’t anything at all, and the kids got hyperenergetic that their newfound friend was capable of such magic! Plasma wasn’t done just yet showing off to the others the innate abilities that he was capable of – Plasma was after all a little tempted to assert himself as incredibly skilful due to his regal genetic material. There’d be numerous tricks performed mid air as Plasma continued to hover upwards, tilting himself to the side till he was upside down and looking at one of the kids before sticking out his tongue for a sudden laughter. Plasma wasn’t done just yet though, as he began mimicking the motion of swimming mid-air, followed up by running in slow-motion as he sluggishly made his way towards the earth at a ninety-degree angle. Whilst anyone would’ve thought Plasma would stop just before hitting the ground, he’d keep going – slowly forcing his small frame against the snow in slow motion till his tail and crown was only sticking out.

Those kids that were watching him with excitement were a bit puzzled and confused, but still in a jolly mood from Plasma’s display – but was Plasma ever going to stop walking downwards into the earth with the usage of flight? Indeed he was, for now he came up moonwalking through the air – backwards! Just the issue that it did not last long as Plasma adjusted himself to land on his two shoes once more. Glancing at the kids who gave him a happy applause as snacks were given out by the elderly, Plasma held up one finger – and that finger would slowly accumulate energy. Plasma gave a little introduction in his own little manner of speaking and instructed one of the kids to make a snowball. Watching the production take place, Plasma playfully elbowed one of the kids to pay close attention as Plasma gave the order for the kid to throw the snowball upwards into the air.

With a flick of his wrist, and careful aim as he placed his free hand around his death-beam hand, Plasma carefully and precisely shot out a delicate beam of piercing energy that struck the thrown snowball with a bullseye. Pretending that it was a revolver with smoke emitting from the barrel, Plasma would blow a gentle breeze of air against the tip of his finger and respectfully bow before the kids as they offered another round of applause. That was it however for Plasma’s display and circus, for he wasn’t going to test the water and do something insidious by accident that could be badly interpreted by the kids nor the villagers present. Accepting one last snack from the elderly people that were just happy to see their grandchildren and kids having fun, Plasma respectfully bowed before them and hovered upwards into the air – a decent distance away from them as they kept an eye on him. He’d wave at them with both hands before biting down on the snack he had been offered. Careful not to immediately break the sound barrier or the villager’s eardrums, Plasma would slowly but surely hover away from the masses and towards the energy signature that he recognized to be Callion’s. It seemed at this point that Callion was visible too now, compared to the hide and seek treat he gave Plasma earlier by remaining buried in snow and only capable of being sensed. Chomping down on his snack, devouring it in its entirety, Plasma would lower himself and adjust his trajectory to be aligned just before Callion’s path. Initially the android would speed up the process, but when he was rapidly approaching his mentor, the android slowed down and would attempt to hover right before Callion’s face – so they were seeing eye to eye without bending any necks or knees.

Plasma’s mannerism was stoic but cracked eventually with a playful attitude as he wriggled his ‘eyebrows’ and offered a toothy grin followed up by numerous noises of ‘Kekekkekekekekek’ as Plasma wanted to witness Callion’s reaction first-hand at how utterly perfect Plasma had been before the villagers. In truth, there hadn’t been any fridges stolen, and Plasma hadn’t zapped anyone nor hit anyone – there was essentially no theft to be had, apart from a little snowman murder which was accidental. Crossing his arms before Callion, Plasma would look at him triumphantly, as if Plasma was at the top of the world with nothing capable of pushing him over or toppling his high from this wonderful interaction.

It had been a nice experience for Plasma to be pleasant towards others without the typical Monday morning screaming throughout villages or people fainting from watching a gremlin emerge from the bushes and yoink their morning toast directly from their hand, or their ice-cream after a hard-worked day. Plasma was simply attempting to fit in, perhaps a bit too much, as he displayed his unnatural abilities – but fortunately the villagers hadn’t taken it too badly so far, right? It was a question for later though, if they were going to pop up in any newspapers or mailed that they were being sued for traumatizing some poor villagers with their unnatural abilities. Whichever the result would be in the near future, Plasma looked at Callion with a POWERFUL gaze – eagerly awaiting which kind of response Callion had to Plasma’s behaviour following this wonderful interaction. It pondered whether it would be foul, rewarding, or something else entirely?

Plasma was in a jolly good mood, and he wished to continue it after having received the status-update – by prompting wishing to fly off elsewhere after, or something! Possibly a massive buffet or something along those lines which the two of them would easily drive into bankruptcy.