Heh...the second chapter. I don't exactly have a title for the series in
general...I'll think of something eventually. All right, here goes the
disclaimer. I've been informed by several veteran fanfic writers that I'll
eventually go insane from typing up disclaimers. Oh well...c'est la vie. =)
I don't own any of the DBZ characters. (Wow...that was original.)
Bulma glanced up as her rain-soaked son hauled himself indoors. A smile seducedits way onto her face, and she rose from the couch, grabbing the towel at her side and handing it to him. Trunks accepted it gratefully, and Bulma smirked.
"See? I'm always one step ahead of you," she teased. "Remember the time you tried to hide you-"
Trunks cut her off with a sharp cough as the back of Vegeta's head appeared and then vanished, mumbling a thank you and disappearing himself. Bulma sighed and said something about a forged report card, a deal of secrecy struck between mother and son, and the ungratefulness of a child.
She'd also found a great disliking towards school counselors.
Trunks collapsed on his bed, reached over and quickly flipped off the radio and the music it had been spouting. "Who set it to that station?" he wondered, then shuddered. Salsa music had always been terrifying beyond all mortal reason in his eyes.
Reclining comfortably, Trunks reached into his pocket and got ready to withdraw the item he'd found outdoors in the pouring rain. He dug further, then sat up, an expression that was both vexed and puzzled pasted onto his features.
How?...I could have sworn...
His mind's eye began forming a picture of the object, although he hadn't been able to get a clear view of it, the darkening clouds obscuring his vision.
A stylized triange, cold, hard and metallic, the tips and center gleaming in what little light there was. He turned it over and over, running his fingers up and down the seemingly frail metal bars that comrpised it.
For a moment, he thought he felt power pulsing from the triangular thing. Shifting uncomfortably, he jammed it into his left pocket and began heading for home.
"Looking for something?"
Trunks whirled, tensing. Adrenaline pumped itself into his veins, alarm screamed through his being. The somebody stayed back, half hidden by a robe of darkness, making Trunks wish that his room had a better lighting system.
"Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing in my room?"
The somebody spoke, voice harsh and tight with control. Female. Definately female.
"I am the Keeper of Light and Dark, the Eternal One who controls All. I've journeyed from a land- aw, screw it. Call me Mary Sue. I'm here to make a deal."
Trunks smirked despite himself. "Nice wording. Now show yourself."
She stepped from the shadows, this woman wearing a business suit, high heels and cheap perfume. Blonde hair tied back in a messy bun, she radiated a frustration and vulnerability that stunned him.
Hang on a second. Shouldn't I be shocked? There's a, ah...woman...who somehow appeared out of nowhere and just made a place for herself in my bedroom. Now, is that good or bad?
"I don't have much time. I want you to prepare for anything. I'm going to place you in a situation you'll truly hate me for afterwards," she grinned. For a moment, the woman reminded Trunks of a horse, a wild horse, mane tousled, eyes gleaming wickedly under a harsh light./p
Okay, that's bad.
The current fix was ultimately bizarre, strange, and uncomfortable. At least it should have felt that way to Trunks. But a strange sort of apathy had him in a deadly hammerlock, and he did nothing, even as she moved towards him and extended a bone-thin hand. The cool fingers brushed his forehead, and for a moment in time, he thought he heard her sigh before everything exploded in a flash of white light. He was falling, not room for a whisper in the crevices of a mind that was telling him how wrong this was.
Cripes, that's gotta be bthe/b strangest thing I've ever written. I mean, recap, and you'll agree: Trunks walks in after standing in a storm, finds a woman in his bedroom who transports him in the Land of White Light. Hmmm...
Bulma glanced up as her rain-soaked son hauled himself indoors. A smile seducedits way onto her face, and she rose from the couch, grabbing the towel at her side and handing it to him. Trunks accepted it gratefully, and Bulma smirked.
"See? I'm always one step ahead of you," she teased. "Remember the time you tried to hide you-"
Trunks cut her off with a sharp cough as the back of Vegeta's head appeared and then vanished, mumbling a thank you and disappearing himself. Bulma sighed and said something about a forged report card, a deal of secrecy struck between mother and son, and the ungratefulness of a child.
She'd also found a great disliking towards school counselors.
Trunks collapsed on his bed, reached over and quickly flipped off the radio and the music it had been spouting. "Who set it to that station?" he wondered, then shuddered. Salsa music had always been terrifying beyond all mortal reason in his eyes.
Reclining comfortably, Trunks reached into his pocket and got ready to withdraw the item he'd found outdoors in the pouring rain. He dug further, then sat up, an expression that was both vexed and puzzled pasted onto his features.
How?...I could have sworn...
His mind's eye began forming a picture of the object, although he hadn't been able to get a clear view of it, the darkening clouds obscuring his vision.
A stylized triange, cold, hard and metallic, the tips and center gleaming in what little light there was. He turned it over and over, running his fingers up and down the seemingly frail metal bars that comrpised it.
For a moment, he thought he felt power pulsing from the triangular thing. Shifting uncomfortably, he jammed it into his left pocket and began heading for home.
"Looking for something?"
Trunks whirled, tensing. Adrenaline pumped itself into his veins, alarm screamed through his being. The somebody stayed back, half hidden by a robe of darkness, making Trunks wish that his room had a better lighting system.
"Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing in my room?"
The somebody spoke, voice harsh and tight with control. Female. Definately female.
"I am the Keeper of Light and Dark, the Eternal One who controls All. I've journeyed from a land- aw, screw it. Call me Mary Sue. I'm here to make a deal."
Trunks smirked despite himself. "Nice wording. Now show yourself."
She stepped from the shadows, this woman wearing a business suit, high heels and cheap perfume. Blonde hair tied back in a messy bun, she radiated a frustration and vulnerability that stunned him.
Hang on a second. Shouldn't I be shocked? There's a, ah...woman...who somehow appeared out of nowhere and just made a place for herself in my bedroom. Now, is that good or bad?
"I don't have much time. I want you to prepare for anything. I'm going to place you in a situation you'll truly hate me for afterwards," she grinned. For a moment, the woman reminded Trunks of a horse, a wild horse, mane tousled, eyes gleaming wickedly under a harsh light./p
Okay, that's bad.
The current fix was ultimately bizarre, strange, and uncomfortable. At least it should have felt that way to Trunks. But a strange sort of apathy had him in a deadly hammerlock, and he did nothing, even as she moved towards him and extended a bone-thin hand. The cool fingers brushed his forehead, and for a moment in time, he thought he heard her sigh before everything exploded in a flash of white light. He was falling, not room for a whisper in the crevices of a mind that was telling him how wrong this was.
Cripes, that's gotta be bthe/b strangest thing I've ever written. I mean, recap, and you'll agree: Trunks walks in after standing in a storm, finds a woman in his bedroom who transports him in the Land of White Light. Hmmm...
