A/N: Hi, guys! :D It's almost two in the morning and I have class tomorrow but screw it, I wanted to give you a sneak peak of my next story! I've gone with the votes and decided on Goku/OC darkfic. Goku will NOT be constantly OOC in this. Only during certain parts. Chi-Chi will still tie in with what I think is a great part for her, and all the other regulars will be included. Everyone is young in this-around their mid-twenties. This means there is no Saiyan-human hybrids and no official couples yet. There will be plenty of Saiyans to go around and as far as I know, this is completely original. I've done a lot of research to make sure I'm not ripping anyone off so I hope you'll all enjoy this. Rating is T for now but will probably go up.
Warnings: Darkfic, violence, possible non-con. It usually finds its way into my stories.
Pairings: Goku/OC; otherwise all canon.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything affiliated with it.
-MalRev
PROJECT OOZARU
Case File 001 - Exposition
Nothing brought me more happiness than being dead-center in a writhing crowd.
I loved every moment of it. The heat, the feeling of someone else's sweat seeping through your thin clothes, the relief when a breeze of fresh air evaporated some of the moisture you were drenched in. I lived for the electricity the night life brought. People became complete animals when the lights were out and strobes flashed overhead. You could see their pupils contract as wild grins spread like a virus, infecting everyone with the insatiable need to move.
Alcohol amplified everything to an unbearable level. You lost focus. You danced with strange people and laughed as they grinded against you, mindlessly following instinct. Through the thick haze of liquor, you could feel a pang of embarrassment but the club became a hive mind. The limbic system ruled. The people sitting in chairs shaking their heads at us were simply more evolved.
But I liked acting like an animal. It distracted me from the annoying things in life, like paying rent and going to my tedious job. When I was drunkenly stumbling around the humid club with my friends, I didn't think it was possible to be any happier. I'd laugh all night until my throat was too sore to even let me swallow. Then I'd drink more to soothe the pain and just get even drunker than before.
At twenty-one years old, nothing else seemed particularly important besides having fun. I wasn't concerned with politics or current events or even the stuff going on in my city. It was a big place. I figured I blended in well enough to be one of the sheeple. Throughout high school I stuck out like a bleeding fish in a tank of sharks—ooo, Harper Williams is an orphan. She never knew her parents. How strange. She must get lonely living with five other kids in a foster home.
The vodka burned down my throat and I winced as someone knocked into me, nearly pushing me off my feet. No, being sad wasn't an option. I was out with my three friends having a blast. I ran a hand through my sweaty brown hair and scanned the crowd to the best of my ability. Bodies swam at a nauseating rhythm, taunting my blurred vision. I groaned as my stomach seized violently and prayed I wouldn't puke all over the dance floor like I had last weekend.
A cool hand groped blindly at my arm and seized it, dragging me through the mass of tangled bodies until we were on the outside. I panted for air and collapsed in a chair at the bar as my friend, Mia, casually leaned on the counter. She was soaked in sweat like I was but her curly hair somehow managed to stay in place throughout the night. It always did. She refused to tell me her secret.
Mia grinned at me, patting her rotund cheeks with a cloth. "I thought I lost you in there. Haven't you had enough to drink tonight, Harper? We should probably find Willow and Rachel before you pass out on the floor. Wait here and don't go anywhere with any strange men."
I sarcastically saluted her and dropped my forehead on the cool countertop, beyond exhausted. Normally Mia and I would banter for a while but my hilarious comebacks were on the back burner as I focused all my energy on not vomiting. I was used to being drunk. The nausea, however, never came easy. I'd end up spending my night snuggling with the toilet bowl while the girls laughed at me.
The pulsating music had been drowned out in the crowd but it was coming back to haunt me now. I hiccupped and covered my ears as a deep bass vibrated the entire building, making people cheer excitedly and laugh and chatter and just make way too much noise. It was utter torment. Thankfully, Mia had known me for almost ten years and she understood my limits better than I did. If I had my way, I'd still be rolling around on the dance floor, puking and getting stepped on by other drunk people.
Mia returned after what felt like a lifetime with our two other friends in tow. Rachel was just as wasted as me and we gave each other a celebratory high-five. She was tall and lean; the kind of girl you saw modeling clothes in magazines. She had fiery red hair and a personality to match. She was wearing her favorite outfit for clubbing: a skimpy skirt with an equally revealing belly shirt.
Willow rolled her eyes at our behavior, straightening her glasses. She was the straight edge, the one who kept us from getting thrown in prison and knew all the rule books. She didn't drink but always agreed to come along to be our designated driver and keep an eye on us. I'd known her the longest next to Mia. She was our next-door neighbor's daughter and was really into science, much like my sister. She had blonde hair cut in a bob with a practical sort of outfit. Jeans and t-shirt were her default.
Of course, that left my foster sister, Mia. Mia was… well, she was the mother. She kept all of us firmly in line but knew when to kick back and have fun sometimes. She got along best with Willow but we had a lengthy, stormy history together that kept us close. She was a bit pudgy and the boys we lived with used to pick on her until I threatened to break their toys. Thus, we became best friends. Inseparable.
"You're so cute when you're drunk!" Rachel giggled, tapping me on the nose.
"You're cuter!" I squealed in response.
"This is just pathetic," Willow said. "I'll take the redhead if you can carry Harper. Don't tell me you guys are sleeping at my apartment again. I just cleaned the place up from last time."
Mia laughed and helped me to my feet. "No, I'll make sure Harper is tucked in at home. When she wakes up for work tomorrow she'll feel like an idiot as usual. Maybe I'll come over bright and early for a wake-up call; bright lights and everything. And this time she can make her own breakfast."
"Noo," I moaned as we headed out of the club, "anything but that!"
It was a cool fifty degrees outside, which was normal weather for Vermont. Bennington didn't have a crazy nightlife but there were a few places for us young people to go. I whistled at the bouncers as Mia pulled me along and she quickly told me to shut my mouth, awkwardly waving when we passed them. We'd all taken my little Prius tonight because Willow was worried about getting puke in her SUV.
I was dumped in the back seat with Rachel and we started singing a disjointed cacophony together that was supposed to sound like Katy Perry. The early morning news was relaying quietly under our noise as Willow drove off down the street toward the inner city where I lived. Snippets reached my ears but my inebriated mind wasn't interested in retaining much. I was too busy laughing at Rachel.
I really wished I listened to that report. Things would've been much different.
