I don't own DBZ! The only thing I own is my character Avice and any other characters I happen to create along the way. Please don't use them in any way without my permission...
I haven't watched this show in forever so I apologize in advance for any errors in the DBZ plotline. I also apologize for any formatting errors since I'm having a tough time trying to find a type of document that won't get all messed up when I upload it.
So this is how it had to end. She stood in the middle of a deserted side street. Well, deserted except for the corpses littering the stretch of road as far as this misty summer morning would allow the eye to see. Breathing heavily, she lamented on the previous week's events.
"It didn't have to be this way," she announced suddenly to the male figure standing downwind from her.
At a distance, it was difficult to discern his features through the morning's haze. It was obvious he was a male, if not from his voice then from his silhouette. He stood tall, at least six feet in height, and his stance was one of a well honed fighter. Long hair flowed around his head with every hiss and sigh of the morning's breeze. It was not a relieving breath of air, rather it felt as if some giant, foul dragon had opened its mouth and begun to pant on the city. Reeking of death and decay, it was as vile and despicable as the sight of the crumbling metropolis upon which it exhaled.
"On the contrary, I can't see it ending any other way than the way it's ending at this very moment," the man replied with an eerie note of contentment in his tone.
Sneering, the female spat on the ground in a gesture of bitter rage. "Fine," she snapped, "then let us end it here and now."
Flicking a piece of her black streaked lavender hair out of her eyes, Avice leaned closer to further study the young man standing in front of her. He too had lavender hair and blue eyes. In fact, his eyes were a mirror image of her own. Upon seeing the two of them together it was immediately obvious to an observer that they were closely related.
"What'd you say your name was?" the male inquired of his female counterpart.
"Avice," was her laconic response. Behind the lavender haired young man, another male, this one standing roughly 5'4" with spiky black hair and cold black eyes, visibly flinched at her spoken word.
"What?" she started, straightening herself and locking gazes with the short man, "you don't like my name?"
"Your name doesn't have a whole lot to do with it," he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Then what does have a lot to do with it?" she asked, relaxing her stance and putting one hand in the back pocket of her well worn denim jeans.
"What do you mean, 'what has a lot to do with it?' Are you daft? How the hell did you get here, and even more than that, where the hell have you been? We thought for sure that you had die--" he was abruptly cut short by a thwack on the back of the head from the woman standing next to him.
Clad in a red, summer dress, this woman stood as tall as her husband, but that was where any resemblance ended. Vibrant blue eyes filled with youth surveyed the scene in front of her with a mixture of emotions.
"What? I was Ju--" he started, but was promptly cut off once more.
"I know what you were just doing, now shut up and let me do the talking. You never were the least bit tactful, Vegeta. What your father was saying, Avice, is that the doctor told us that you had suddenly stopped breathing and died. Obviously that was a lie, seems how you're standing right here, a perfect image of what Trunks would look like if he had been born a woman," the spiky haired man's wife explained. The lavender haired young man, Trunks as he was called, flushed at the comment. Avice shrugged.
"So, where exactly did you come from?" a girl who highly resembled her mother asked from beside Trunks. Bra was her name, and she was Avice's little sister.
"Well, dear siblings, that is quite a story," Avice replied enthusiastically, waving one hand in the air as if she were brushing away a bug. She stood only slightly taller than her father, but she still wasn't as tall as Trunks. Her hair was cut a couple inches above her shoulders and angled down from the back of her head to her chin. It was blatantly obvious that she was a Saiyajin; her tail had never been cut. Being from a different solar system did little to hinder her fashion sense and she wore a pair of trendy (and holy) blue jeans with boots very atypical of a Saiyajin warrior. Along with that, a black, pinstriped vest layered over a skin tight white tank top completed her outfit. Looking at her style of dress, it was inherently obvious that, aesthetically, she took after her mother far more than her father.
The origin of her demeanor was a complete mystery. Keen, ice blue eyes regarded the newfound members of her family. She acted, as she had often been told, like a drunken, Chanel wearing pirate. It was an odd combination, she speculated, but one that seemed accurate to describe her everyday outward appearance. What she was thinking always remained a mystery to an outsider, but what was obvious was the fact that she was always thinking. Observing, rather. Yes, she had been born with a very keen sense of observation. Was she good or evil? She had often pondered this when she was left alone with nothing to do (which was not often) and had repeatedly been stumped. She often committed acts of good for evil reasons and heinous crimes for charitable causes.
"Well, let's hear it," her sister prodded.
"Alright. Let's see, I was raised by another Saiyajin, this one a full blood--" she began only to be cut off once more by her father.
"What? Another full blooded Saiyajin? That's not possible, they were all killed," Vegeta interjected.
"And just how sure of that are you? Because I sure remember a full blooded Saiyajin teaching me the fine arts of combat," Avice replied matter-of-factly, waving her hand in front of her once more.
"Pretty damn sure," he shot back, "but for the sake of conversation, what was his name?"
"You mean her name. That doesn't really matter, I suppose, but her name was Zachanna. She was off on some trivial errand for the Saiyajin king when Vegetasei was destroyed. There were many more Saiyajins out in different parts of the universe when their home world was destroyed; I've met at least five. They seemed nice enough," she explained, shifting her gaze from one family member to the other as she spoke.
"Nice? Dear, I don't know what Saiyajins you've met, but we've had nothing but problems with the ones we've encountered," her mother chuckled, shaking her head at her daughter's statement. Avice shrugged in response.
"Well, maybe they were just sucking up to me because they knew I could kick their ass. Either way, I never had any problems with any of them, except for one time when I was little. Anyway, I'll get to that later. As for where I'm from, well, it's a little planet called New Avolon. It's a piece of shit backwater spaceport planet, and pretty much the only permanent residents there are mercenaries and business owners. I'm not really the bookish type, so I'm pretty sure you can guess which group Zachanna and I belonged to," Avice began, pausing to scrutinize the reactions of her family members.
"You were a mercenary? That sounds like a pretty interesting lifestyle," Bra remarked.
"That's one way to put it," she started with a smirk, "it was pretty far from being as glorious as your planet's movies make it look, though. So, I'm not really sure how I wound up there but I'm guessing that the 'doctor' who delivered me and Trunks was someone who had it out for you guys and knew all about your Saiyajin bloodline, there, dad. Doesn't really matter now, though,. Here I am!" she finished with a small laugh.
"Where exactly is New Avolon, and how'd you manage to get back here? It must not be too far away," Trunks reasoned.
"Oh my, no, it's pretty far away. Thanks to the fine art of teleportation I managed to get here in a pretty small amount of time," Avice elucidated. Her brother nodded his understanding and relaxed his stance.
"So what about that one Saiyajin you said you had some problems with when you were young?" Bra asked, leaning against a wall as she did so.
"Yeah, that one. I'm not sure what kind of stick he had up his ass or why he felt the need to mess with a little kid, but he was a piece of work. I was, like, 10 or 11 years old, just sitting on a bench minding my own business eating an apple while Zachanna went to collect the money for one of our jobs when this jackass decided it would be cool to take my apple. I was caught off guard, so he took it without much of a problem and started munching away. I asked him what the hell his problem was, and he just started laughing and said 'you'd better be a little more respectful to a first class Saiyajin warrior, kid'. Well, Zachanna didn't raise me to take shit from assholes like this, so I said 'that's awfully big talk for someone who doesn't even have a planet to call home anymore,'. Now, I don't mean any disrespect towards my ancestors, but what the hell? Seriously, who steals an apple from a 10 year old kid, Saiyajin or not? Regardless, my comment really pissed him off and he thought it would be real macho of him to start a fight with me. About then, Zachanna walked out and told him where to go," Avice regaled her tale in a mannerism not far detached from that of a drunken pirate, cursing and all.
"Do you remember his name? He might have been one of the guys that terrorized Earth at one point or another," her mother inquired.
"I think so, Zachanna sure knew him. I think it was Rabbits, Radish, Radtiz! That's it, that jackass was named Raditz!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers upon remembering his name. Bulma's jaw drooped open and Vegeta's eyes got as wide as a pair of dinner plates.
"Kakarott will love to hear about this one," Vegeta lamented, smirking. Bra and Trunks just shrugged at each other.
"But wait, how did you meet Raditz? Kaka-- I mean Goku killed him way before you or Trunks were born," Bulma wondered, suddenly nervous.
"Really? He sure seemed alive. Maybe someone wished him back to life," Avice suggested with a shrug of her shoulders.
"Oh dear Lord I hope not, he was a big enough pain back then, I can't imagine what kind of havoc he'd try to wreak today," Bulma sighed and shook her head, rubbing her temples. "Anyway, children, I think we've had enough eventfulness for one day, how about we head out for some dinner and have an uneventful evening," she finished.
"Sounds good, Mom," Trunks conceded, nodding his assent.
A bit later on
Avice was stretched out on one side of the sectional couch that occupied the Briefs family living room and Trunks was laying on the other side, both of them watching the giant, flat panel television with drooping eyelids and little interest. Vegeta was in his gravity chamber training, Bulma was working on some papers in her office, and Bra was making a sandwich. A very large sandwich. In the past three years she had begun to show more and more of her Saiyajin traits, eating large quantities of food being a prominence amongst other things. She still wasn't particularly involved in the Saiyajin fighting tradition, but she knew a few of the basic moves, flying not included.
"What the hell are we watching?" Avice grumbled, reaching for the remote control located on the mahogany coffee table in front of her.
"I think it's called Napoleon Dynamite," Trunks commented, squinting at the TV as if that would make the answer obvious.
"Good lord, I hope all your TV shows aren't this damn stupid," she replied, quickly changing the channel to something slightly more interesting.
"What are you guys watching?" Bra asked, entering the living room with a half eaten sub sandwich in hand.
"I think it's called CSI, it looks interesting," her sister said, shifting into more of a sitting position.
"Oh, hell yeah, this show is awesome!" Bra exclaimed, making herself a seat between the two of her siblings.
Avice shrugged and turned her attention towards the show. She and her younger sister had been getting along exceptionally well. That wasn't to say that she and Trunks didn't get along, she got along fine with all of her family even, astonishingly enough, her father. However, there was some kind of connection between her and Bra, maybe due to the fact that they both shared a lot of traits in common with their mother. They both loved to dress up, go to dance clubs, go clothes shopping and gawk at good looking guys. There were plenty of differences, though, Avice thought to herself. 'Partially due to the fact that she wasn't raised by a bunch of bloodthirsty mercenary outlaws, maybe' she scoffed mentally. Avice still wasn't entirely sure why she had come here of all places, it was just a nagging feeling that somebody needed her here on Earth. Everyone sure seemed fine enough now that she was actually here. Even though she was here, the nagging feeling in the back of her head wouldn't leave her alone. It seemed to be telling her that something was going to go wrong.
That's it for chapter one. Now that I've gotten most of the formalities out of the way some interesting stuff can finally happen next chapter!