If you are like me, you skip this crap. This stuff isnÕt very important, but I like it when people read it, and I know...
A/N I doubt any of my fans from the last area I was writing will read this. If you are a fan of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, Invader Zim, Gorillaz, Sailor Moon, Inu-Yasha, Yu-Yu Hakisho, or read original stories you may have seen me before. I took them all down. IÕm re-writing all of this from when I was eleven and not quite as talented as I am now. This is my first Dragon Ball Z piece. Thank you for reading.t_t_t_t_t_t_t - My Graveyard!
Summary: This is a story of Vegeta as a teenager, not a five year old as he is ussually written, or even his old adult self in lemons with Bulma. He endures his life being one of three saiyians on the massive ship, S.S.Death. A prisoner to FriezaÕs bondage, and a slave to his own mind. Later he is sent to Earth for a mission. If this is to original for you, go away now.
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, but I own a copy of the manga.
****************
It was morning, again, a fifteen year old Vegeta stared at the clock, 6:30. He didnÕt feel like going to the mess hall to eat, there wasnÕt anything good anyway. Nappa and Raditzu didnÕt really care about the quality of the food and were currently stuffing themselves.
Vegeta, Raditzu, and Nappa, who shared a small, cold, metal room with no windows, a desk with a single lap-top computer and two bunk beds, two beds on each bunk. There was paper
Vegeta was sitting on the bottom staring lazily at a piece of paper. He was attempting to write while he had the chance. It was Sunday, and he had all day until he would be forced to go and actually do something that didnÕt require a whole lot of intelligence. Fighting army on army required little brain effort on oneÕs own. Vegeta start scribbling little phrases down and drew a couple of pictures. One of a particularly gored Frieza was drawn at the bottom. Vegeta shrugged and started writing everything that fell into his creative atmosphere:
Black and Red
the colors I ever see
Death and Blood on the Battle field
On my hands
Black on Black
in my Mind
My thoughts inpure and soul scathed.
Vegeta stared at the paper... It was a start. Vegeta thought to himself, ÒI sound like a melodramatic goth boy... Looking for place in a spotlight.Ó
Sighing, Vegeta got up and threw the pad of paper onto his bed and headed downstairs, he had grown bored of his intullectual moment in a matter of minutes and decided it wasnÕt worth getting out of character for.
ÒI am ruthless, powerful... and extremly hungry...,Ó Vegeta thought painfully.
A/N I doubt any of my fans from the last area I was writing will read this. If you are a fan of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, Invader Zim, Gorillaz, Sailor Moon, Inu-Yasha, Yu-Yu Hakisho, or read original stories you may have seen me before. I took them all down. IÕm re-writing all of this from when I was eleven and not quite as talented as I am now. This is my first Dragon Ball Z piece. Thank you for reading.t_t_t_t_t_t_t - My Graveyard!
Summary: This is a story of Vegeta as a teenager, not a five year old as he is ussually written, or even his old adult self in lemons with Bulma. He endures his life being one of three saiyians on the massive ship, S.S.Death. A prisoner to FriezaÕs bondage, and a slave to his own mind. Later he is sent to Earth for a mission. If this is to original for you, go away now.
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, but I own a copy of the manga.
****************
It was morning, again, a fifteen year old Vegeta stared at the clock, 6:30. He didnÕt feel like going to the mess hall to eat, there wasnÕt anything good anyway. Nappa and Raditzu didnÕt really care about the quality of the food and were currently stuffing themselves.
Vegeta, Raditzu, and Nappa, who shared a small, cold, metal room with no windows, a desk with a single lap-top computer and two bunk beds, two beds on each bunk. There was paper
Vegeta was sitting on the bottom staring lazily at a piece of paper. He was attempting to write while he had the chance. It was Sunday, and he had all day until he would be forced to go and actually do something that didnÕt require a whole lot of intelligence. Fighting army on army required little brain effort on oneÕs own. Vegeta start scribbling little phrases down and drew a couple of pictures. One of a particularly gored Frieza was drawn at the bottom. Vegeta shrugged and started writing everything that fell into his creative atmosphere:
Black and Red
the colors I ever see
Death and Blood on the Battle field
On my hands
Black on Black
in my Mind
My thoughts inpure and soul scathed.
Vegeta stared at the paper... It was a start. Vegeta thought to himself, ÒI sound like a melodramatic goth boy... Looking for place in a spotlight.Ó
Sighing, Vegeta got up and threw the pad of paper onto his bed and headed downstairs, he had grown bored of his intullectual moment in a matter of minutes and decided it wasnÕt worth getting out of character for.
ÒI am ruthless, powerful... and extremly hungry...,Ó Vegeta thought painfully.