Chapter 2

Trunks had never been outside his sleepy town before. It was a large enough place that one was never truly required to leave it to obtain what one needed, so he never had. But now an incomprehensible series of events had snagged him in their wake, forcing his hand. Or feet, really. He packed that night with a slight bit of trepidation, but pushed it aside with the same business-like focus that had made his grandfather entrust him as his only heir, bypassing several other relatives, his mother included. Best not to think of that right now.

Again he was up before daylight, 'sneaking' through his own house, and out into the uncertain dawn. There was no recognition found in the helpful advice or offers given him as an old man, but as he traversed the streets, he became more and more comfortable with his new situation. When he reached the town square, he bartered for a few more items he thought he would need on his trip. Then a kindly middle aged man and his son allowed him to ride on the back of their hay wagon all the way out of town. What a relief. He thanked them sincerely, and kept on his way.

Passing the last farm house that bordered the lands that had fallen to the Waste, he was given the standard warning about witches/wizards and called foolish for his actions, but no one actually tried to stop him... The Waste was ahead, and though Trunks had absolutely no idea where in the Waste he was going, he pressed on. By that afternoon, the strange excitement he had felt earlier this morning had faded as the pain in his feet escalated. He stopped for a break and a quick snack, easing down slowly as his old joints protested. The Waste didn't seem too bad so far, it wasn't completely desolate, just void of human life. And hilly. Trunks sighed. He hadn't thought the change in terrain from city to country would have such a huge affect on him, but it did.

Fortuitously, his eyes happened to land on a perfect walking-stick shaped branch sticking out of a shrub nearby. Hoisting himself up, he walked over and tugged on it, intending for it to aid him through this rough terrain. It was definitely snagged good though, it didn't seem to want to budge. Trunks twisted it a bit, experimenting as he pulled, and soon he felt it breaking free of the shrub. It did not turn out to be the perfect walking stick though, because it was already a scarecrow. A very odd scarecrow, with a turnip for a head, that was capable of standing upright on its own... Trunks backed off a bit, seeing it standing unaided, but then smiled when it gave a slight jump and stood sideways, rigidly extended it's hand out toward him.

"You're welcome" Trunks said in response to the obvious thank you, shaking it's hand.

He walked on after his meal was over, only to find that the strange scarecrow was following him about 40 feet back.

"Go on now, shoo" he said as he made a motion with his hands, "Stop following me please, you don't owe me a thing, really... I've had just about as much magic and curses as I can take already." That seemed to work, the scarecrow paused for a moment as Trunks began to struggle up the hill again, then he bounded off down the "path", if you could call it that. Good. He just had to made it the next 20 feet or so, to the crest of this hill, then the downward face would be much less difficult – until he reached the next one that is. With a sigh he pressed on. In a few minutes though, his ears were assaulted by a familiar rhythmic tapping. He turned hesitantly as a tall shadow passed beside him, and dropped something in front of him.

It was a walking stick. It stood on its own for a moment as well, but it didn't seem to be possessed itself... Trunks reached out and grabbed the thing's duck shaped handle, grinning up at his turnip-headed friend.

"Thank you, this is just perfect."

Turnip-head hopped up and down a few times. Trunks grinned a bit wider, he was grateful, but he really didn't want the hopping helper calling that much attention to him all the time...

"Say, if you don't mind doing one more thing for me, could you possibly find a place for me to stay? It is going to get awfully cold tonight..." Which was true, the wind was already blowing quite steadily, so it wasn't a complete fabrication on his part. The scarecrow seemed to think on that for a minute, then it bounded away happily. Well, Trunks thought, at least my mind hasn't degraded in old age as well... Smiling to himself, he turned back to the task at hand.

A few hours later though, he had only made it down the current hill and over the next. With evening upon him, he was no closer to whatever he might have set as a goal, and sat down exhausted. His thick coat buffeted him from the wind some, but he really did need to find shelter soon... The smell of woodsmoke caught in his nose as he rested. Maybe someone had a camp nearby... As he struggled to his feet again, he noticed a figure standing on the path a little ways up the hill from him.

"Gahh, turnip-head – don't sneak up on me like that!" Trunks admonished. Turnip-head hopped once in place, but made no other move.

"I don't suppose you found me a place to stay for the night, did you?" Trunks asked wearily. Two hops. Hmm... Against his better judgment, (which, at this point, really, what did that even mean?...) he followed his spindly friend off the edge of the path and down an embankment. A wide, clear lake awaited them at the bottom of it, sparkling in the evening sunset. Trunks stopped to admire the view, it really was spectacular, when he felt an abnormally strong gust of wind at his back. He turned, almost being blown over, to see an enormous cloud racing towards him. It passed only a few feet over top of him, heading for the lake.

Trunks continued to stare as the solid form of a misshapen, hodgepodge, magical castle stopped abruptly by the water's edge, leaving the clouds to continue on without it out over the water. It touched down, landing gracefully, and the door on the side of it burst open. Out of it spilled a spiky-haired youth, wearing a set of what were once fairly nice robes, though now they appeared dirty and unkempt. He hauled a contraption almost as big as he was from the castle, and proceeded to connect one of its hoses to the side of the building, while throwing the other out into the crystal waters. After flipping a few switches and pulling a few levers, the machine sprang to life, providing a low hum to the surrounding area.

Trunks watched with fascination as the machine gave a shudder and the hum changed to a high pitched squeal. The boy ran back to it, turning it off and standing there looking forlorn. If his guess was right, this lad must be the apprentice of the great wizard Gohan. What else could this monstrosity possibly be but Gohan's moving castle? He kept his eyes on the lad as he began fiddling with the machine, obviously not having a clue what he was doing. Trunks sighed. Gohan huh? He remembered the witch, Videl, making a comment about him... perhaps it was worth a shot...

"Hello there" he said gently to the strange boy. The boy paused, about to give the side of the thing a good swift kick, then thought better of it and turned to address the old man.

"Uh, Hi... Who are you? How did you get out here? What do you want mister?" a steady stream of questions was aimed at him.

"Whoa whoa whoa, calm down there – My name is Trunks, and I couldn't help noticing as I passed by that you seem to be in need of assistance.

"Oh" the boy responded, "Yeah, I think so... Do you really think you can fix it?"

"Well, I won't know unless I try, do you think you could find me any tools to work on it with? What's your name by the way?" The boy nodded his head, and said "Sure, I'm Goten" then bounded off, back into the castle. Trunks examined the machine while he was gone – he had a pretty good idea what was wrong with it, but needed a wrench to open that section up. When Goten came back, he had a screwdriver, a hammer, and a soldering iron. This could be a problem. Trunks explained to him that he needed a wrench to open the broken part.

"What's a wrench?"

His description was obviously going right over the boys' head, but he ran off to try and find one anyway. Persistent little fellow, he'd give him that much... When he came back yet again without the correct tool, Trunks decided to take a more direct approach, heading into the castle himself after Goten left for his third attempt. The door opened freely, but it seemed like the difference between the warmth inside, and the cold outside, formed a physical barrier of sorts. He pushed through, wanting to feel the blissful warmth of indoors for at least a little while, and whatever it was seemed to give way... He had probably just imagined it.

He was distracted from his search though, by the fire looking at him from the hearth as he came in.

"What do you want?" a gruff voice addressed him. Fiery eyes squinted at him.

"Um, I'm looking for a wrench" Trunks answered uncertainly, moving closer to the little flame-being. The flame gave a 'harrumph' and light danced on the walls, illuminating dingy dust and spider webs. This was not exactly what he had expected the inside of a 'castle' to look like...

"Well, while you do that, make yourself useful and hand me another log of wood" it ordered. Trunks complied, never taking his eyes off the flame.

"Are you come kind of fire sprite or something?" he finally asked.

"Sprite?! What the hell is wrong with you? I'm a powerful and terrifying fire demon you moron!" he said while beginning to devour the wood, his flame sputtering even higher in his anger.

"Ok, no need to fly off the handle, I've just never come across anything like you before – do you have a name?" Trunks inquired.

"My name's Piccolo."

"Well," Trunks said when the flame did not ask him his back, "my name's Trunks, nice to meet you." Now that the pleasantries were out of the way, he went back to his quest for the wrench. He considered himself quite lucky to find one within 15 minutes, taking into account the complete disaster area that was the inside of the castle. As he was about to go, he threw another log of wood on, or rather to, the fire. Piccolo accepted it readily, looking up at him as he seemed to be weighing something in his mind.

"That's quite a curse you've got on you" he said at last, "looks like one you aren't allowed to speak of either... man those are nasty ones..."

"Well, you're a powerful fire demon aren't you? Can't you do anything?" Trunks asked hopefully.

"Hey buddy, I've got my own problems here, you think I like being Gohan's slave, moving this castle around and making hot water for him all the time? Tell you what, if you can find a way to break me out of this thing I'm in with Gohan, I'll see what I can do about your curse afterward..."

Trunks studied the demon for a second, trying to gauge his seriousness – then figured it couldn't hurt...

"Ok, you've got a deal, Piccolo, as long as I can stay here in the meantime (Piccolo made no move or action, so he figured that wasn't a rejection) – but first let me finish up with this machine" he smiled as he walked outside. He had the thing taken apart and cleared before Goten showed up again. He was just starting to reattach the outer panel when a small hand extended a pair of pliers to him. He took them with a shake of his head.

"Better stick to magic kid."

…...

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" … "Port Haven door."

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" … … "Port Haven door!" Piccolo called out.

Trunks groaned from his spot on the lumpy couch. Someone was at the door. He heard the patter of feet that were still child-sized scurrying down the stairs. As he pulled himself up to a sitting position, he caught a glimpse of Goten using a quick bit of magic to disguise himself as an old dwarf. The boy pulled the door open, and behind it were the Mayor and two soldiers bearing a rather official looking message.

"Is the Great Wizard Jenkins at home?" the Mayor asked politely.

"No, my master is out at the moment, is there something you would like to leave for him?" Goten asked, eying the scroll they carried.

"Yes, give him this and let him know he has been summoned by the King to help fight in the upcoming war – all witches and wizards are to report to the palace for duty."

"Alright my good sir, I certainly will, thank you" Goten responded. Trunks could see the bustle of the already awakened city out the door behind him. He felt a little bad for sleeping in so late, but no one else had been up yet either... No sooner had Goten taken off his disguise to read the announcement, then another knocking sounded on the door.

"Kingsbury door"

Goten twisted the odd colored wheel on the handle, then opened it wide, going through the exact same motions again.

"Good morning, is Master Pendragon available?"

"Not at the moment kind sirs, he's out on an errand – would you like to leave a message for him?"

"Indeed, tell him that the King has summoned all witches and wizards to aid in the fighting of the war. He is to report to the main hall at once to be assigned. Thank you." He extended out a sealed scroll, which Goten took with a small bow. And then as quickly as they came they were gone back into the traffic of the city.

Wait a minute, hadn't they been in the middle of The Waste last night? Trunks got up and stole over to the door while Goten rummaged around on the table for something. Noting the color on the wheel was red, he cautiously opened the door. The cacophony of the city greeted him. Taking a step outside, he could see the spires of the royal castle in the distance, their banners waving lazily in the morning breeze. Amazed, he went back in and turned the wheel to blue. When he opened the door again, the salty tang of the sea hit him with a whoosh as an entirely different city sprang up in front of him. Port Haven... He had never thought he would see anything of the coast. The colors and fashions of the people looked quite different from his own town, but people were people everywhere, he guessed. They still talked and laughed and smiled, just as in any place.

Back inside, he decided to try the other two colors as well. Green lead him back out to the shore by the lake, were a misty haze had yet to be burned off by the morning sun. Black though, black lead him to a void where no land or sky greeted the observer. The door was pried from his fingers and closed for him by Goten.

"Stop messing around, what are you, six?" he softly scolded him with a hand on one hip. Trunks blinked a little at the admonishment, but turned to follow him back to the table.

"Where does it lead?" he asked seriously.

"Only Master Gohan knows that" Goten replied, dismissing the subject, "Here, have some breakfast." Apparently the loaf of stale looking bread he was holding out intended to pass for that.

"Wouldn't you rather have a real breakfast, like eggs and bacon? You know, real food?" Trunks inquired.

"Well, sure, but we can't cause Gohan's not here and he's the only one who can make cooking work."

Odd choice of words. Trunks ignored it for now.

"What are you, like nine, ten years old? And you can't even cook eggs?" Trunks chided him. Goten shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm ten, but I'm not powerful enough to use the fire" he said squinting at Piccolo.

"Boo" Piccolo said in a mocking tone, staring the kid down.

"Oh brother..." Trunks mumbled as he looked around for a skillet, "How can you work like this? This place is a dump" he said, moving a stack of dirty dishes. He managed to find a spatula as well, miraculously.

"You're really going to try it?" Goten asked, excited at the prospect of a hot meal, "Let me show you where the frigid is!"

"The what?" Trunks asked as he was pulled by the sleeve into another cluttered, dirty room. This one though was different than the others in one key area. The items that were strewn around were not magical accoutrements, but parts. Pulleys and levers, gears and cogs, coils of chain and scraps of metal all jumbled together on the shelves and floor. Trunks realized these must be left overs and/or spare parts for the castle itself. The only bit of order was in the clear pathway leading to a large metal box at the back of the room.

"This is Master Gohan's frigid, he made it himself – the eggs and everything are in there" Goten explained, standing back. Trunks reached for the handle and pulled, only to be knocked back off his feet as a blast of icy air roared out of the box. Shivering, he stood to his feet and grabbed the desired items as quickly as possible, while Goten snickered and laughed off to the side.

"We'll see how funny it is to you when you don't get any breakfast" Trunks retorted. Goten stopped laughing immediately, apologizing profusely. I should leave him out, Trunks thought to himself, serves him right for disrespecting his elders like that... But one look into those wide, incredibly sorry chibi eyes melted his resolve. Ok, ok, he'd give the kid a break this one time.

Back in the main living room, Trunks arranged his supplies and picked up the skillet while Goten watched apprehensively.

"Hey, don't get any idea's there – I'm the most powerful fire demon in existence, I do not cook" Piccolo informed him.

"Oh, I think you'll come around when the alternative is a bucket of cold water in your face... or maybe" Trunks whispered to him, "you'd like me to inform Gohan about our little deal" he winked.

"Ohhhhh, why you little, son of a... damn it!" Piccolo said as the skillet was placed over top of him. Muffled curses still came out of the now obedient fire occasionally as the bacon sizzled.

"You know, I think we could use some tea too" Trunks commented to Goten, who scurried to find the kettle. In the midst of this merriment, the whirling of the wheel on the door and small 'ding' announced the Master's arrival home. The door swung open, and the hunched-over form of golden hair made it's way through.

"Master Gohan, the kings' messengers were both here, they each say you're to report to the palace, one as Jenkins and one as Pendragon..." Goten informed him before he'd even fully ascended the stairs that lead up from the door. Gohan gave no outward sign that he'd heard the boy, though he did straighten slightly as he climbed, heading directly toward the hearth. Trunks looked at him out of the corner of his eye, recognizing him as the stranger from the other day. He decided to let Gohan be the first to speak, trying to gauge his reaction to finding and old man in his house, using his things... Gohan stopped but a hair's breath from him, the look on his face soft and slightly amused.

"Piccolo, you're being so cooperative..." he said, turning to the fire with a smile in his voice.

"Not on purpose! Gahhrrhrhh! He bullied me into it!" the flame sputtered.

"Hmm, not just anybody can accomplish a feat like that... And you are, who?" Gohan asked with a gleam in his eye.

"Uh..." Trunks thought briefly about giving some sort of fake name or identity, but what would be the point? It wasn't like he recognized him anyway – all he could do was tell the truth with those teal colored lights directed at him.

"Trunks, my name is Trunks... Piccolo sort of hired me to help out around here, in exchange for room and board kind of a thing..." he trailed off uncertainly, hoping his half-truth would go undetected for now.

"Here, give that to me," Gohan instructed him with a chuckle, placing a hand over his as he took control of the spatula, sliding it out of his grasp. Trunks let himself be displaced, not really having any choice in the matter, and decided to clear off a spot on the table to eat in the meantime. His hand tingled where Gohan had touched it – must be something to do with wizards, he decided.

"Alright, Goten, get the plates!" Gohan announced cheerfully when the eggs were done. They all sat down to eat in relative silence, Gohan politely passing out bread to everyone as utensils clicked against plates and cups clanked against the table. Half way through the meal, Gohan leaned over the table pointedly.

"So, Trunks, what have you got hidden in your pocket?" he asked with a sort of confident amusement.

"In my pocket?..." Trunks reached into it on reflex, oddly enough feeling a slip of paper in there where none should be. He pulled it out and offered it to Gohan's outstretched hand, but the crimson red note burst into flames as soon as it hit Gohan's skin, before Trunks had even let go of it. He pulled his hand back quickly, more than a little startled. Gohan didn't seem to be though, he was studying the rune it left burned into the wooden surface.

"Oh man, scorch marks... can you read them Gohan?" Goten clamored, leaning over as well. When Trunks looked back to Gohan, the air around him seemed to get thicker, and the soft tendrils of his hair were beginning to float as if buffeted by a gentle wind.

"You who swallowed a falling star, Oh heartless man, Your heart shall soon belong to me" Gohan didn't pause as he raised a hand to cover the marks, "that can't be good for the table."

"So it's from the Witch of the Waste, Videl" Goten said solemnly. The power in Gohan's hand seemed to clash with that of the mark, though as he scraped it across the table, the sparks and embers that surrounded his palm from the confrontation quickly dissipated into the air. When he pulled back his hand, there was nothing but smooth wood left beneath it.

"Wow, cool" Goten said.

"The marks may be gone, but the spell in still there... That is ancient sorcery, I'm afraid" Gohan said, not looking particularly bothered about it though.

"If you'll excuse me friends, it's better I take care of this right away" he said standing up. He dumped the scraps of his meal into Piccolo's fire, the demon incinerating them instantly.

"Piccolo, move the castle 60 miles to the west" he instructed, leaving his plate on the edge of the hearth. Trunks was beginning to see how this place got into it's current state.

"Also," Gohan added as he climbed the stairs to the second story, "get started on some hot water for my bath."

"Oh, sure, as if moving the castle wasn't enough" Piccolo grumbled in the background. Trunks tossed him a few more logs of wood, it sounded like he was going to need it.

…...

Trunks looked around the room, then at Goten licking his plate clean of the last few bits of breakfast.

"You have any plans for today?" he asked him. Goten stopped mid-lick and shook his head no.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I can't work like this... How do you even find anything?" he wondered.

"Work on what?" Goten asked. Trunks dismissed his previous question with a wave of his hand.

"It's a figure of speech kid, but either way, I'm sure you'll agree this place is a wreck." Goten nodded his head as he shrugged his shoulders as well; it was a mess, but it had always been.

"Alright, breakfast is over – it's time to get this taken care of" he said, surveying the room with his arms crossed over his chest, "first off, let's find a broom..."

Trunks enlisted Goten's help with the cleaning, mostly by default of him being a child and Trunks an adult. They sorted and stacked, cleared and dusted – but still had quite a way to go by the time lunch rolled around. Trunks was cleaning the mantle when the clock announced noon, drawing his attention away from the small turtle figurine he had just picked up. He was going to absently toss the thing, it had a broken leg and was hideous – but Goten stopped him.

"That's one of Master Gohan's most prized possessions, you can't throw that away!" he informed him.

"Well if it means that much to him he certainly has a funny way of showing it...the thing's busted. Whatever..." Trunks dusted it and placed it back on the mantle. He stretched his aching joints and called a temporary halt to the project, heading back to the frigid to see what could be done for a meal. As they sat and ate, Trunks thought there had to be a better way to get all this done... As he pondered the necessary tasks still ahead of him, he got a flash of brilliance. That spare room in the castle that was full of parts would provide plenty of resources, and he really only needed to make a few tweaks to the design of the pump he had helped Goten with yesterday... It could work... He got up from the table and began hunting for a piece of paper, to get down a rough sketch...

His first machine was really just the same principle as the pump, but it was intended to work with air, and had a filter to catch bits and particles, to keep if from getting clogged. He tested it on some low-hanging spider web off to the side, smiling with satisfaction as the whole thing was sucked in. The next design he had in mind would prove a bit trickier though...

Goten was playing in his room, Trunks had let him have the time off while he was inventing, and apparently the boy intended to use all of it on changing a frog he had found at the lake into different colors. Trunks sat in the supply room, on the floor trying to get a hose to connect properly. He didn't hear the gruff voice calling from the other room, he was so completely absorbed in his work. He finally got it hooked up the way he wanted, and brought the contraption out to the main room, just in time to see Gohan return downstairs. The man virtually floated, like he was walking on a cloud all the time. He headed straight for the hearth, picking up an ember there, and blowing gently on it as he placed it on a fresh log of wood.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't let my friend go out" he said simply, no tone of accusation – but Trunks could just tell somehow, that if Piccolo did 'go out', it would be bad...

"Of course, I'll keep a better eye on it from now on" he said.

"Thank you, Trunks – I knew I could count on you" he said with a smile.

"Lousy, moronic imbecils, leaving me all alone like that, I could have died!" the newly re-kindled flame grumbled loudly.

Gohan turned and strode across the room towards the front door, taking in the now growing collection of machinery in the living room.

"Now, don't get too carried away while I'm gone" he said to Trunks. Trunks nodded and watched him flip the color of the wheel on the door to black, open it, and step into the void. When the door closed, the wheel automatically reverted back to green. Since he was ready to test his latest invention, he called Goten down a minute later to watch him fire it up. It was a large box that hooked up to the castles' existing hot water system. Trunks loaded it with a stack of dirty dishes, added some soap for good measure, then closed it up and flipped the switch. The machine hummed and rattled a bit as the water began to squirt around inside it, and Trunks gave a cheer at the amount of physical labor it would save him from.

He felt ready for round two now, his old body having gotten a rest while his mind worked, and he began to drag the suction machine up the stairs with Goten's help. He paused in the hallway, unsure which room to start with first. His attention was caught by the tops of trees whizzing by through the window in the door to his right. Curious, he looked out to see that it lead to a balcony on the side of the castle. Pushing on the door, he stepped out into the torrent of wind, seeing that they were flying through the air at quite a pace. They were almost at the end of a little valley, and were approaching a different lake now, losing altitude in preparation for landing.

Trunks was amazed, they had been flying through the air this entire time, and if what Gohan had said earlier was true, it was Piccolo's doing. Hopped back inside for a moment, leaning over the rail on the stairs to shout down.

"Piccolo! Are you really the one moving the castle?" he called.

"Of course I am, you see any other over-worked magical beings around here?" he hollered back.

"That's incredible Piccolo, just spectacular, you've got an amazing spark!" he called down once more before heading back out to the balcony. He let the wind rip around him, standing with his arms thrown wide. Goten joined him, laughing and running around in circles beside him. Neither of them heard the pleasant crackling of the fire demon below as he digested the compliment.

As they landed on the firm ground once again, Trunks couldn't help but be a little sad, but he figured that with his life just starting here, there would be plenty of other fun to be had – besides, he really should get back to work. He was going to turn to head back inside, when Goten leaned out over the edge of the railing, calling back to him.

"What's that?" he pointed to a sort of stick jammed into one of the edifices of the castle, "that doesn't belong there, how did it even get way up here?" Trunks leaned over and grabbed hold of it, pulling up. He felt it snag on something inside, and tried turning it around a bit, finally finding an angle at which it would pull free. Once extracted, the stick turned out once again to be his friend the scarecrow.

"Turnip-head!" Trunks exclaimed, "How on earth did you get stuck in there?" Not as if he could reply though... Turnip-head bounced up and down a few times, hopping over the carapace of the castle and down to the ground.

"You know that scarecrow?" Goten asked incredulously.

"Yes, he's sort of an old friend" Trunks explained.

"Is he some sort of demon, like Piccolo?" Goten asked.

"You know, I can't say... He doesn't like to talk about himself much" Trunks joked.

"Oh" Goten nodded solemnly, completely missing the humor... Tough crowd, Trunks thought, rolling his eyes.

"Come on, we've still got a lot of work to do, and there's a few more things I'd like to experiment with if I get the chance," he told Goten, "so let's get going."

…...

After scrubbing the rooms upstairs, some of which were worse than others, like the bathroom, they headed down to the lake to try Trunks' new clothes washing invention. This was a box looking contraption as well, but inside, instead of a rack to hold the contents stationary, there were 'arms' jutting out to provide agitation to the water. Unfortunately, Trunks couldn't find all the components he needed to make the thing spin on it's own, but he was able to rig it to a bicycle-like set up so he could power it by pedal. A few clothes, hot water, and soap went into the mix, and Trunks hopped onto the seat, figuring a good 20 minutes or so would do it.

He didn't even get a chance to run out of breath though, before Goten perked his ear and asked if it was supposed to be making that sound... Trunks hopped off again, investigating – to find that apparently having the arms spin in alternating directions was not such a good idea. Each piece of clothing he pulled out was either ripped or torn in some way, having been snagged on the mechanism. One of the vests was Gohan's on top of it all... The wizard seemed pretty laid back, but after what had happened with Piccolo earlier, he was, well, a little nervous, almost – about letting him down. Not that he thought he would hurt him or anything, but he just felt inside that it wasn't something he wanted to experience. Sighing, he wrung out the clothes and washed them normally, taking great care in stitching up Gohan's vest above all the rest.

Turnip-head and Goten strung up a line to dry the clothes on, and Trunks went back inside to put the last load of dishes in his washer. When he flicked the switch though, nothing happened. Frustrated and completely worn out at this point, he cursed mildly and kicked the side of it. All of a sudden the machine sprang to life, surprising him – huh, something must have been loose, he decided to himself. Grabbing some left overs and a blanket, he headed back outside to rest by the shore of the lake. Goten ate with him while turnip-head performed clothesline duty, all three of them staring out over the water as the sun set in a blaze of color.

You know, the Waste wasn't exactly what he thought it would be... Trunks thought as he ate. His new found friends, though odd, were actually quite interesting and amusing at times – much more so than anyone he'd ever met in town. And he was looking forward to getting to know Gohan better as well; the tall and handsome wizard was nothing like he what he had expected from the stories and rumors either...

Gohan had not returned by the time that everyone was bedding down for the night. Though Goten assured him this was perfectly normal, Trunks couldn't help but feel a little bit worried. He tried to dismiss it – Gohan was a grown man, and powerful wizard to boot, he could certainly take care of himself. Trunks discovered that sleep did come easily after all; his body was more than willing to be dragged down to the depths of slumber even as his mind stayed on a certain golden haired personage.

Ironic, thought Piccolo, as the witching hour struck, that the wheel to the castle door gave a soft 'ding' and spun around to read black. The frame gave the most imperceptible of shudders as the portal opened to reveal an inky blackness. Tendrils of the dark seemed to push back against the light of the room as a form took shape in the void, pressing toward the doorway of the castle. The demons' flame-filled eyes widened – that boy was going to go too far one of these days...