Chapter 2: Metal Maniac
Coming back to life was the most horrible and disheartening thing that had ever happened to him after his humiliating defeat on Namek. After he had clawed his way to the surface of his shallow grave, he'd been so excited that he could have jumped up and down with glee just for being alive. But then, seeing Kakarot as the super saiya-jin had made him want to crawl back into that hole again and die.
Now he wished he had as he flew across the bright blue sky, in search of any cities he could stay in for the time being. All thoughts of taking over the planet had died when he realized that Kakarot was still alive after he'd felt Namek explode. Now he had to lie low until something happened. He knew that if he so much as screamed in some dumbasses face, the Z Senshi would swoop down upon him like a swarm of locusts. And although he knew those weaklings could never hurt him in any way, Kakarot would pull one off his famous 'show up when everyone's dieing routines' and thoroughly kick his ass while waving his super saiya-jin power in Vegeta's face. All the odds were against him so he would find an apartment or something, like that annoying woman said to, and lay low.
He glanced at himself, sneering at his ruined armor that was quickly falling apart as he flew. Seeing the small hole on the left side of his chest plate brought back unwanted memories. He shook his head lightly to clear the sudden nausea and continued his search, sharp eyes on the lookout for any skyscrapers on the horizon.
The first step in even beginning to fit into this strange society, he knew, was clothing. He would need to buy some clothes first off and continue from there. But what did people wear here? The only type of clothes he'd seen so far on this miserable planet was what the Z Senshi wore. They were always sporting those retarded orange things all the time and Vegeta truly didn't feel like dressing like one of those weaklings.
Relief flowed through him when he spotted buildings to his right. Altering his course, he flew towards his desired location, slowing down as he drew near so he wouldn't draw attention to himself. Landing on a building, he crouched down to observe the humans as they went about their boring lives, oblivious to the curious saiya-jin above them. To any human's eyes, the people below Vegeta were tiny black dots that closely resembled ants. But for Vegeta's keen saiya-jin eye, he could see every single detail of each individual on the street below. And what he saw confused him.
All his life, he had been surrounded by soldiers who wore armor that was at least similar to his own. But of course the humans had to make every fucking thing about them, right down to their very clothes, difficult. Every one of them donned something different from the person standing next to them. He could see punks with Mohawks and spiked leather around their necks. He could see people who wore pants two sizes to big for them that sagged down their asses and he even spotted a man dressed as a woman. He nearly fell backwards in horror. How the hell was he supposed to know what to wear when everything was so different?
Jumping down from the building, he landed in a deserted ally way, scaring a few cats from their hiding places. He had decided to go shopping. Emerging from the ally in only a ragged battle suit and armor that was literally falling apart earned him many sideways glances from passing humans. He ignored them and began his search for some kind of clothing that would help him blend in.
After only about a half an hour, he began to feel weary. The dragon had only healed the life threatening wounds, his shattered spine and a few organs that had been ripped apart by his broken ribs, included. But scrapes, burns and grime still covered his sore body and he knew the humans had a right to stare but it was making him feel very self-conscious. More than once, he had wiped his mouth with his forearm to see if any blood was dribbling down his chin. And to top it all off, a migraine was settling in the back of his scull.
Spotting a clothing store that actually appealed to him, he ignored the pounding between his ears and entered it. Loud music was booming in the speakers above his head, only making his headache worse. The man behind the counter in the middle of the store, lifted his eyes from his magazine long enough to nod to Vegeta politely. Vegeta nodded back and continued in to the store, liking what he was seeing. An entire wall in the back was completely devoted to a display of all different kinds off shirts. Most were black and if they weren't black they were a dark blue.
Vegeta suddenly realized what kind of store he was in. It was a place where all those rock enthusiasts got their clothes. He remembered when he was purging this planet that he had picked up a radio station on his scouter that was playing a song by a band called Metallica. The song was called 'Kill 'em all' and Vegeta found it very appropriate for what he was doing at the time, so he kept it on that frequency for quite a long time. He'd gotten to like many of the bands they played including Metallica, Godsmack, Pantera, Slayer, and a handful of other artists.
Now he was in heaven as he darted from rack to rack, picking through each article of clothing until he found something he liked and added it to the quickly growing pile in his left arm. He found over ten shirts he liked plus seven nice pairs of jeans and a nice leather jacket. He brought the mass up to the counter, dumping it in front of the startled man at the counter who stared at it in awe.
"Someone likes Metallica!" he observed as he picked through the pile, looking for the price tags to scan. "Where's all this going?"
"What do you mean 'going'?" Vegeta asked, his face showing his confusion.
The guy just looked at him. "You don't expect to carry all this home do you? I need your address so I can send it there."
It was then Vegeta realized that he had no place to stay. Telling the man to hold the stuff for ten minutes, Vegeta shot out of the store leaving him to tell himself that he didn't get paid enough for this shit.
So what do you think? Should I keep writing or should I toss it in my big ass pile of failed attempts? If you have any ideas for this story, please tell me cuz I have almost no idea where it's going! I need reviews to boast my confidence!
Coming back to life was the most horrible and disheartening thing that had ever happened to him after his humiliating defeat on Namek. After he had clawed his way to the surface of his shallow grave, he'd been so excited that he could have jumped up and down with glee just for being alive. But then, seeing Kakarot as the super saiya-jin had made him want to crawl back into that hole again and die.
Now he wished he had as he flew across the bright blue sky, in search of any cities he could stay in for the time being. All thoughts of taking over the planet had died when he realized that Kakarot was still alive after he'd felt Namek explode. Now he had to lie low until something happened. He knew that if he so much as screamed in some dumbasses face, the Z Senshi would swoop down upon him like a swarm of locusts. And although he knew those weaklings could never hurt him in any way, Kakarot would pull one off his famous 'show up when everyone's dieing routines' and thoroughly kick his ass while waving his super saiya-jin power in Vegeta's face. All the odds were against him so he would find an apartment or something, like that annoying woman said to, and lay low.
He glanced at himself, sneering at his ruined armor that was quickly falling apart as he flew. Seeing the small hole on the left side of his chest plate brought back unwanted memories. He shook his head lightly to clear the sudden nausea and continued his search, sharp eyes on the lookout for any skyscrapers on the horizon.
The first step in even beginning to fit into this strange society, he knew, was clothing. He would need to buy some clothes first off and continue from there. But what did people wear here? The only type of clothes he'd seen so far on this miserable planet was what the Z Senshi wore. They were always sporting those retarded orange things all the time and Vegeta truly didn't feel like dressing like one of those weaklings.
Relief flowed through him when he spotted buildings to his right. Altering his course, he flew towards his desired location, slowing down as he drew near so he wouldn't draw attention to himself. Landing on a building, he crouched down to observe the humans as they went about their boring lives, oblivious to the curious saiya-jin above them. To any human's eyes, the people below Vegeta were tiny black dots that closely resembled ants. But for Vegeta's keen saiya-jin eye, he could see every single detail of each individual on the street below. And what he saw confused him.
All his life, he had been surrounded by soldiers who wore armor that was at least similar to his own. But of course the humans had to make every fucking thing about them, right down to their very clothes, difficult. Every one of them donned something different from the person standing next to them. He could see punks with Mohawks and spiked leather around their necks. He could see people who wore pants two sizes to big for them that sagged down their asses and he even spotted a man dressed as a woman. He nearly fell backwards in horror. How the hell was he supposed to know what to wear when everything was so different?
Jumping down from the building, he landed in a deserted ally way, scaring a few cats from their hiding places. He had decided to go shopping. Emerging from the ally in only a ragged battle suit and armor that was literally falling apart earned him many sideways glances from passing humans. He ignored them and began his search for some kind of clothing that would help him blend in.
After only about a half an hour, he began to feel weary. The dragon had only healed the life threatening wounds, his shattered spine and a few organs that had been ripped apart by his broken ribs, included. But scrapes, burns and grime still covered his sore body and he knew the humans had a right to stare but it was making him feel very self-conscious. More than once, he had wiped his mouth with his forearm to see if any blood was dribbling down his chin. And to top it all off, a migraine was settling in the back of his scull.
Spotting a clothing store that actually appealed to him, he ignored the pounding between his ears and entered it. Loud music was booming in the speakers above his head, only making his headache worse. The man behind the counter in the middle of the store, lifted his eyes from his magazine long enough to nod to Vegeta politely. Vegeta nodded back and continued in to the store, liking what he was seeing. An entire wall in the back was completely devoted to a display of all different kinds off shirts. Most were black and if they weren't black they were a dark blue.
Vegeta suddenly realized what kind of store he was in. It was a place where all those rock enthusiasts got their clothes. He remembered when he was purging this planet that he had picked up a radio station on his scouter that was playing a song by a band called Metallica. The song was called 'Kill 'em all' and Vegeta found it very appropriate for what he was doing at the time, so he kept it on that frequency for quite a long time. He'd gotten to like many of the bands they played including Metallica, Godsmack, Pantera, Slayer, and a handful of other artists.
Now he was in heaven as he darted from rack to rack, picking through each article of clothing until he found something he liked and added it to the quickly growing pile in his left arm. He found over ten shirts he liked plus seven nice pairs of jeans and a nice leather jacket. He brought the mass up to the counter, dumping it in front of the startled man at the counter who stared at it in awe.
"Someone likes Metallica!" he observed as he picked through the pile, looking for the price tags to scan. "Where's all this going?"
"What do you mean 'going'?" Vegeta asked, his face showing his confusion.
The guy just looked at him. "You don't expect to carry all this home do you? I need your address so I can send it there."
It was then Vegeta realized that he had no place to stay. Telling the man to hold the stuff for ten minutes, Vegeta shot out of the store leaving him to tell himself that he didn't get paid enough for this shit.
So what do you think? Should I keep writing or should I toss it in my big ass pile of failed attempts? If you have any ideas for this story, please tell me cuz I have almost no idea where it's going! I need reviews to boast my confidence!