Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z is owned by the absolute genious Akira Toryama. I do not own these characters, or make any prophet what-so-ever off of this story. I write it out of respect for Akira, and his wonderful characters.
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Endless Possibilities
Chapter One
"AHHH!!!!", Vegeta screamed as he felt his knees almost buckle under the weight. Pain circulated through his every nerve, and he loved it. He glaced over at the screan, and in large green letters, in a written language that he was just beginning to learn, it read "450G". "Yes!" he said. "I am well on my way."'Hmm...' he thought. 'Why not achieve my goal even faster.'
He smirked almost madly as he walked painfully over to the control pannel. After pressing a few buttons, he saw the digets fly by. Having already been practically on his back, he realized that this may have been slghtly foolish, but he was the Saiyan prince, after all. He could take it.
As the numbers neared four-seventy-five, he began to question his abilities to withstand such a level. The last thing remembered before blacking out was moving his hand toward the power switch not quite fast enough, and then the whole world spiralling as he fell toward the floor...
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His vision faded in. He was in that bed again--always that bed, that white room. It chilled him to the bone with it's resembleancle to the room he would always awake in after a beating from Frieza. He never told the woman to stop putting him in there. That may have shown a certain weakness on his part, a level of fear, and he simply could not allow it.
"Are you alright, Vegeta?" a soft concerned voice come from beside him. He turned to see the beginnings of tears in those big, blue eyes of hers. "Your heartrate...it was dropping. I...didn't know if you were going to make it this time." Her tears came openly now, glistening over her simetrical cheekbones, and off of her dilicate chin. She was the only creature who had ever cried for him. He probebly should have been more grateful.
He replied, without a hint of feeling "Stop disgracing yourself, woman. I'm fine."
"Your sure?"
"Would you expect anything less of the Saiyan prince?" He smirked haughtily.
"Good." she said before the concern on her face became rage. 'Here it comes.' he thought. "Five hundred G's, Vegeta? Five hundred G's?! What gave you the impression that your body could handle five-hundred times gravity?!!!"
"I'm not weak." he responded in a voice that showed his annoyance.
"Well, if not being able to achieve what you attempted is your idea of weak, then I think you are! Arg!" She wrung her hands together. "What were you thinking?! I thought I'd lost you!!!"
"Yeah, and why would you care?! You've got your makeup, and your clothing, and your fancy cars--not to mention that pretty-boy human--to keep you satisfied! With all of your lavish crap hiding you from the real world, why would it even matter to you if I died?!"
"Just because I have money, doesn't mean that I don't have feelings, Vegeta, but apparently being a short, arogent, little 'prince of all saiyans' does!"
"Oh, so it's back to that again, is it?! You try going through what I did, and coming out of it eith a cheerful disposition! I swear, if I hear one more crack about my childhood, I'm going to--!"
"Bulma, are you home...?" a voice said from outside the door. Yamcha emerged, holding what Vegeta assumed to be a dozen rozes, and he felt his anger rize.
"GET OUT!!!" Vegeta yelled, firing a fairly week ki blast at the human, which sent him flying through a wall.
"You bastard!!!" Bulma yelled at Vegeta, then ran to the fallen weakling. "Are you alright, Yamcha?" she asked him in the same soft, concerned voice with which she had adressed Vegeta.
---
"I'm fine." Yamcha said.
"Good." Bulma let out a sigh of relief, and then hugged him. When she looked back at her lover, she was shocked slightly by the look of pure rage on his face.
"I'd probeby be better if the little orphan boy here could keep his powerful emotions under control."
She looked back at Vegeta, who, for the first time, did not respond to the insult directed toward him.
"Yamcha--" Bulma began, before Yamcha cut off her sentence.
"Why don't you just kill yourself and get it over with?!"
"Yamcha--!"
"Oh, right. If you did, it would dissapont all the people who care about you."
"Yamcha--!!!"
"How many is that again?--"
"YAMCHA--!!!"
"Oh right. I remember now." He smirked.
Speachless, he looked back at Vegeta, who still did not respond. He didn't look particularly hurt, yet his eyes were directed toward the ground, and he seemed to be wearing somewhat if a...poker face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, and clenched his fists. With no emotion, he declared, "I have training to do.", and flew out.
"Vegeta, no! Your still too injured!" She heard Yamcha's soft chuckling, and turned to him with clenched teeth.
He stopped. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? Your what's wrong!"
"What did I do?!" he asked innocently. "Oh...you mean what I said to Vegeta?"
"Yes!"
"Well, he phisically attacked me! All I did was joke around with him."
"Joke around?! What kind of joke was that?! You could have seriously hurt his feelings! Do you know how sentitive he is?!" she yelled.
"Let me think...not at all?"
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From The Author: I know it's short, and seems to cut off in a strange moment, but the thing is that I haven't updated in a really long time, so I've been review deprived for a while, and as a great fanfic author named John Perry once said, "Reviews are the life-blood of the author." We need them to survive, so I'm a little weak from having no blood for a while. Once I get some more reviews, I should be back in the game! Bye!
~Veromorphia
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"AHHH!!!!", Vegeta screamed as he felt his knees almost buckle under the weight. Pain circulated through his every nerve, and he loved it. He glaced over at the screan, and in large green letters, in a written language that he was just beginning to learn, it read "450G". "Yes!" he said. "I am well on my way."'Hmm...' he thought. 'Why not achieve my goal even faster.'
He smirked almost madly as he walked painfully over to the control pannel. After pressing a few buttons, he saw the digets fly by. Having already been practically on his back, he realized that this may have been slghtly foolish, but he was the Saiyan prince, after all. He could take it.
As the numbers neared four-seventy-five, he began to question his abilities to withstand such a level. The last thing remembered before blacking out was moving his hand toward the power switch not quite fast enough, and then the whole world spiralling as he fell toward the floor...
-----------------------------------------
His vision faded in. He was in that bed again--always that bed, that white room. It chilled him to the bone with it's resembleancle to the room he would always awake in after a beating from Frieza. He never told the woman to stop putting him in there. That may have shown a certain weakness on his part, a level of fear, and he simply could not allow it.
"Are you alright, Vegeta?" a soft concerned voice come from beside him. He turned to see the beginnings of tears in those big, blue eyes of hers. "Your heartrate...it was dropping. I...didn't know if you were going to make it this time." Her tears came openly now, glistening over her simetrical cheekbones, and off of her dilicate chin. She was the only creature who had ever cried for him. He probebly should have been more grateful.
He replied, without a hint of feeling "Stop disgracing yourself, woman. I'm fine."
"Your sure?"
"Would you expect anything less of the Saiyan prince?" He smirked haughtily.
"Good." she said before the concern on her face became rage. 'Here it comes.' he thought. "Five hundred G's, Vegeta? Five hundred G's?! What gave you the impression that your body could handle five-hundred times gravity?!!!"
"I'm not weak." he responded in a voice that showed his annoyance.
"Well, if not being able to achieve what you attempted is your idea of weak, then I think you are! Arg!" She wrung her hands together. "What were you thinking?! I thought I'd lost you!!!"
"Yeah, and why would you care?! You've got your makeup, and your clothing, and your fancy cars--not to mention that pretty-boy human--to keep you satisfied! With all of your lavish crap hiding you from the real world, why would it even matter to you if I died?!"
"Just because I have money, doesn't mean that I don't have feelings, Vegeta, but apparently being a short, arogent, little 'prince of all saiyans' does!"
"Oh, so it's back to that again, is it?! You try going through what I did, and coming out of it eith a cheerful disposition! I swear, if I hear one more crack about my childhood, I'm going to--!"
"Bulma, are you home...?" a voice said from outside the door. Yamcha emerged, holding what Vegeta assumed to be a dozen rozes, and he felt his anger rize.
"GET OUT!!!" Vegeta yelled, firing a fairly week ki blast at the human, which sent him flying through a wall.
"You bastard!!!" Bulma yelled at Vegeta, then ran to the fallen weakling. "Are you alright, Yamcha?" she asked him in the same soft, concerned voice with which she had adressed Vegeta.
---
"I'm fine." Yamcha said.
"Good." Bulma let out a sigh of relief, and then hugged him. When she looked back at her lover, she was shocked slightly by the look of pure rage on his face.
"I'd probeby be better if the little orphan boy here could keep his powerful emotions under control."
She looked back at Vegeta, who, for the first time, did not respond to the insult directed toward him.
"Yamcha--" Bulma began, before Yamcha cut off her sentence.
"Why don't you just kill yourself and get it over with?!"
"Yamcha--!"
"Oh, right. If you did, it would dissapont all the people who care about you."
"Yamcha--!!!"
"How many is that again?--"
"YAMCHA--!!!"
"Oh right. I remember now." He smirked.
Speachless, he looked back at Vegeta, who still did not respond. He didn't look particularly hurt, yet his eyes were directed toward the ground, and he seemed to be wearing somewhat if a...poker face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, and clenched his fists. With no emotion, he declared, "I have training to do.", and flew out.
"Vegeta, no! Your still too injured!" She heard Yamcha's soft chuckling, and turned to him with clenched teeth.
He stopped. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? Your what's wrong!"
"What did I do?!" he asked innocently. "Oh...you mean what I said to Vegeta?"
"Yes!"
"Well, he phisically attacked me! All I did was joke around with him."
"Joke around?! What kind of joke was that?! You could have seriously hurt his feelings! Do you know how sentitive he is?!" she yelled.
"Let me think...not at all?"
----------------------------------------
From The Author: I know it's short, and seems to cut off in a strange moment, but the thing is that I haven't updated in a really long time, so I've been review deprived for a while, and as a great fanfic author named John Perry once said, "Reviews are the life-blood of the author." We need them to survive, so I'm a little weak from having no blood for a while. Once I get some more reviews, I should be back in the game! Bye!
~Veromorphia