First story...be gentle?
Chapter one - Stolen
Cool slate adorned the halls which heavy boots rapidly paced. At least it looked like slate; its actual origin was lost with the age of the vessel which housed it, most likely pillaged from some nameless region of the universe; ruthlessly massacred for its resources. Estranged images of such devastation decorated strong impermeable walls of metal, occasionally leaving space for doors simplistic in their design. Detail was evident in every crevice, intricate patterns laced the walls, illustrating pictures beyond beautiful. The deceptive decoration was dismissed by those who cared to notice it, representative of the ignorance of its viewers. Blue eyes, laden with guilt, chose to disregard the extraordinary art lining the passageway, and instead focused on events which happened in another place, another time. Regret sent icy spasms through his frame, revulsion filled his previously expressionless face and as he came to an abrupt halt before majestic doors, he blinked away the hatred from his eyes.
Red in colour, the doors provided contrast against the monotonous and repetitive greys which were evident on the walls and in the black of his uniform. He could see his reflection in the polished metal before him, and despite the blue vivid in his eyes, he sees the ebony they once were. His skin still possessed its unique jade quality, but lacked the pink which used to accompany it. In the crimson of the latticed metal, his slightly curled platinum hair adopted a pink hue, the reflection he decided, made him look sickly. After a few moments, his self-loathing reverie was interrupted by soft footfalls advancing from behind. Rounded dark eyes glanced at the taller man's reflection, even with his head turned up slightly his dark hair only reached the shoulder blades of his companion. His pale skin watered down the red in the door in his reflection, although the black of his hair was strong and never deviated from its obsidian pigment. Ryan's somewhat delicate hand reached towards the small electronic control box and pressed a blue card up against the screen. The doors groaned, then parted to expose a beautifully decorated room which boasted extravagance, and taking solemn steps, Piccolo mourned the loss of his simple, naturalistic home.
Some time earlier
The waterfall cascaded with elegance unique to its particular grace, but its existence was taken for granted by the man who hovered, cross-legged, close by. His contorted features betrayed any peace which was associated with meditation and with a short, sharp sigh his feet touched the floor. Gathering his thoughts, he neatly put them aside to contemplate another time. He stood straight, awaiting the arrival of his exuberant student in a few moments time. The boy landed softly, bouncing slightly which suggested that the smile spread across his face was one of happiness.
"Piccolo! I've nearly finished school! Can you believe it?"
There was no reply, and the boy merely sighed with practiced ease at his mentor's typical behaviour. For years Gohan had tried to force emotional responses out of his friend, and for years, he had failed. Recently however, Gohan had noticed a change in Piccolo; he was becoming more and more irritable. He looked for that absence of patience in green furrowed brows; it was obvious that Piccolo was already teetering towards a bad temper. With foresight, Gohan remained quiet for a time, simply perching on a rock at the water's edge and waited for his older friend to calm down.
He didn't want to tell the boy to leave, but he did not appreciate the company he brought and so simply ignored the young man's attempts at patience. As the minutes passed, he felt himself slip back into his subconscious as relentless memories plagued his waking and sleeping mind. He could not tear himself away from the snow his young eyes saw, and the person standing before his small frame. Her hair was long, and in his youthful opinion, it possessed an enigmatic quality. Her translucent complexion bathed in the mist and damp air that complemented her pale grey eyes. He remembered how surreal she seemed, how slim and tall her body appeared when swathed in its fitting cloak; adopting a kind of magic of which fantasy itself would be envious. His memory reached its climax at that point, and regardless of any amount of determination he could not recall what happened afterward. He dismissed his musings violently, and scorned at his obsession with them. He did not believe in the whimsical and wouldn't pursue what is most likely a dream that has become confused with reality.
Gohan glanced towards Piccolo and observed his closed eyes, he was tempted to hit the older man for his ignorance but a sound mind warned him against it. It would only anger the unforgiving creature, and his previously immature urge to tease his mentor were replaced by understanding. He exhaled as he stood, and patted down his uniform before turning to leave. Surprise clouded his dark eyes when Piccolo announced:
"I'll see you tomorrow then?"
Gohan had never observed such eagerness for company in his mentor and simply replied with a broad smile.
"Yep!"
Behind his smile however was underlying concern, his old friend was out of sorts. And as Gohan walked down a small hill towards his home he thought about what could be bothering a man who revels in his loneliness and enjoys his obscure yet purposeful life. With a shrug he continued into the forest, his groomed black hair bobbing as he went.
Piccolo watched Gohan wander into the trees before turning in the opposite direction, when he did he immediately tensed. Piccolo's own ebony eyes stared helplessly into wide blue pools which occupied the space where eyes should be. He barely had time to adopt any kind of defensive stance before the creature glided towards him, revealing its humanoid appearance. Piccolo stood back to compensate, snarling as he scalded himself for showing signs of weakness. He distastefully noted that the other man challenged his height and overwhelmed his shoulders in width. Clothing, dark in colour, swathed the creature's figure and his significant stature betrayed his negligible Ki. Within a moment, the unidentified man vanished, making Piccolo swirl around in search of him, his characteristic white cape rippling around him. As he flung himself round, he frantically felt for the other's Ki, muttering when he found nothing. His jaw clenched and he felt a fool, he refused to victim of magic tricks and his attacker's attempts at intimidation. He stepped forward, straining his hearing, watching intently. Minutes passed while Piccolo stood, awaiting the creature's return, the silence burrowed through his skull as he yearned for the smallest whisper. The crashing water to his left distracted him for a moment, as he stared into its depths. The water was disturbed slightly, only lasting a second, and with one swift move he flew into the pool. Glancing around, it became obvious that he was the only one there and breathing in to calm himself, he realised that in his haste he was becoming reckless.
He climbed out of the water, purple cloth clinging to his frame. Without thinking, he naturally went to wipe away the moisture from his face, only to find it was already dry. He froze, focusing on the warm breath which was caressing his cheeks. Anxiety wracked his body and he hesitantly glanced left. The creature became visible, slowly, first revealing his liquid blue eyes before the rest of him became apparent. Without hesitation, Piccolo raised his hand, and disbelief evident in his features, his fist slammed into nothing. As the movement turned his body, he felt the man's claws grasp his throat and as the creature's pale face neared his own, he found himself staring into milky blue. And the laugh he heard, so unnatural and revolting, resounded in his head.
...Please Read and Review
