Trunks watched the girl, very bored. His obnoxious smile hid his inside feelings. He was tired of playing, there was no challenge to this. He sighed, wishing someday there would be someone at his own level.
Just as he was about to say, "Go home and play with your dollies," the girl came down with a mighty crack to his ribs. He stumbled backward, confused that her blows could land such an impact.
"What the in the HFIL?" He cursed. He launched himself at her, throwing a couple of punches. She blocked a few, but more landed on her than she could block. She crouched low, a stream of crimson flowing from her mouth.
He looked at her stance, and a memory from long ago crept into his minds eye. Her stance was so...familiar. This was to scary, he decided. "Time to go home."
He blinked out of sight, and carefully pressed to spots on the back of the girls neck. She blinked startled, and the slumped down. Trunks puzzled at this for a second, those pressure points should have been instant. "Oh well," He thought, " Maybe she is just really slow or something..."
He picked the drooping figure up, and hopped into the air.
The room was dark... and cold, shadowed and heavy with the stench of blood. The girl sat dazed, amidst a jungle of tangled, red stained bed sheets. Silent tears crept down her ashen skin, and her black locks lay limp on her head.
She cradled her mother's head in her lap, and tried not to watch as the blood poured from somewhere deep inside of her. Her mother's face was deathly pale, her hair soaked with perspiration. She moaned softly, a sound of utter pain.
The girl clenched her teeth, feeling helpless. There was no medicine, The Androids had destroyed everything. She waited for the next of her mother's contractions to come, so as she could hold her hands and help her along.
Her mother twitched, and her body convulsed in a silent shiver. She watched her eyelashes flutter...but they did not open. As the heaving breaths dimmed to a whisper, and as her mother's body became limp in her arms... the 8 year old let out one agonizing sob.
"Okaasan!"
Pan awoke sweating, disturbed by her dream and aching everywhere. She gripped the soft sheets-and automatically tensed. Sheets? There were no sheets at her place.
"You can get up now. I can sense you're awake."
Pan's head whipped in the direction of the noise, and met the eyes of a blue haired woman. What was going on?
"Sense?" Pan asked absently, gripping her forehead as she sat up on the medical table.
"Where in the HFIL am I?" She asked a little more gruffly. (Sorry, I just couldn't pass the dubbie up!)
The woman smiled, and replied simply. "Sense your ki, your power level." She gathered a couple of medical instruments. " My name is Bulma Briefs, and you'll be staying at my house for a while
Pan's eyes widened to an immeasurable width. "Excuse me?" She peeped. Surely this wasn't THE Bulma Briefs, the genius, inventor, millionaire...
"In the flesh!" She answered brightly, plopping down onto a swivel stool. Pan calculated mentally. Bulma Briefs had to be around her late forties, and the pretty, ageless woman before her couldn't be a day over 30.
" How old are you?" She blurted, not realizing what she'd asked until too late. Her face turned a nice color of red.
Bulma chuckled slyly, " I am 48 years old hon, but I look pretty dang well for pushing fifty, ne?" She held up a toned arm, and smiled smugly.
"Are you a fighter?" She asked, admiring the muscle and her excitement at a fellow woman warrior peaking.
" Who isn't these days?" Bulma more stated then asked. " Yes, I am. I trained with my son, whom I believe you may have had the "pleasure" of meeting with."
??Pan froze. That was why she was here. She had gotten her a$$ kicked by that guy...
Bulma looked at hey unhappy features.
" Oh, don't be pissed. He defeats everybody. We're only human, ne?" Bulma said. "Hold out your arm."
"Why?" Pan asked suspiciously, drawing the limb in question around her.
" I have to get a blood sample." Bulma shrugged impassively.
Pan held out her arm, reluctantly. "I hate needles." She muttered.
Bulma chuckled, and pooped the needle in.
"AHHHH!" Pan hissed, ki peaking violently.
Bulma pulled it back out, now filled with a red liquid. "What's your name hon?" She asked.
"Pan." Pan answered, cradling her arm.
"Well, you are free to wonder around her for awhile. You weren't hurt that bad...unusual, but..." She said, face contorted as if in deep thought. She shook it off. I guess you are just healthy! I will find you when the results are ready.
She headed out the door, lab coats rustling behind her
Pan smiled mischievously, jumping off the med table.
Just as he was about to say, "Go home and play with your dollies," the girl came down with a mighty crack to his ribs. He stumbled backward, confused that her blows could land such an impact.
"What the in the HFIL?" He cursed. He launched himself at her, throwing a couple of punches. She blocked a few, but more landed on her than she could block. She crouched low, a stream of crimson flowing from her mouth.
He looked at her stance, and a memory from long ago crept into his minds eye. Her stance was so...familiar. This was to scary, he decided. "Time to go home."
He blinked out of sight, and carefully pressed to spots on the back of the girls neck. She blinked startled, and the slumped down. Trunks puzzled at this for a second, those pressure points should have been instant. "Oh well," He thought, " Maybe she is just really slow or something..."
He picked the drooping figure up, and hopped into the air.
The room was dark... and cold, shadowed and heavy with the stench of blood. The girl sat dazed, amidst a jungle of tangled, red stained bed sheets. Silent tears crept down her ashen skin, and her black locks lay limp on her head.
She cradled her mother's head in her lap, and tried not to watch as the blood poured from somewhere deep inside of her. Her mother's face was deathly pale, her hair soaked with perspiration. She moaned softly, a sound of utter pain.
The girl clenched her teeth, feeling helpless. There was no medicine, The Androids had destroyed everything. She waited for the next of her mother's contractions to come, so as she could hold her hands and help her along.
Her mother twitched, and her body convulsed in a silent shiver. She watched her eyelashes flutter...but they did not open. As the heaving breaths dimmed to a whisper, and as her mother's body became limp in her arms... the 8 year old let out one agonizing sob.
"Okaasan!"
Pan awoke sweating, disturbed by her dream and aching everywhere. She gripped the soft sheets-and automatically tensed. Sheets? There were no sheets at her place.
"You can get up now. I can sense you're awake."
Pan's head whipped in the direction of the noise, and met the eyes of a blue haired woman. What was going on?
"Sense?" Pan asked absently, gripping her forehead as she sat up on the medical table.
"Where in the HFIL am I?" She asked a little more gruffly. (Sorry, I just couldn't pass the dubbie up!)
The woman smiled, and replied simply. "Sense your ki, your power level." She gathered a couple of medical instruments. " My name is Bulma Briefs, and you'll be staying at my house for a while
Pan's eyes widened to an immeasurable width. "Excuse me?" She peeped. Surely this wasn't THE Bulma Briefs, the genius, inventor, millionaire...
"In the flesh!" She answered brightly, plopping down onto a swivel stool. Pan calculated mentally. Bulma Briefs had to be around her late forties, and the pretty, ageless woman before her couldn't be a day over 30.
" How old are you?" She blurted, not realizing what she'd asked until too late. Her face turned a nice color of red.
Bulma chuckled slyly, " I am 48 years old hon, but I look pretty dang well for pushing fifty, ne?" She held up a toned arm, and smiled smugly.
"Are you a fighter?" She asked, admiring the muscle and her excitement at a fellow woman warrior peaking.
" Who isn't these days?" Bulma more stated then asked. " Yes, I am. I trained with my son, whom I believe you may have had the "pleasure" of meeting with."
??Pan froze. That was why she was here. She had gotten her a$$ kicked by that guy...
Bulma looked at hey unhappy features.
" Oh, don't be pissed. He defeats everybody. We're only human, ne?" Bulma said. "Hold out your arm."
"Why?" Pan asked suspiciously, drawing the limb in question around her.
" I have to get a blood sample." Bulma shrugged impassively.
Pan held out her arm, reluctantly. "I hate needles." She muttered.
Bulma chuckled, and pooped the needle in.
"AHHHH!" Pan hissed, ki peaking violently.
Bulma pulled it back out, now filled with a red liquid. "What's your name hon?" She asked.
"Pan." Pan answered, cradling her arm.
"Well, you are free to wonder around her for awhile. You weren't hurt that bad...unusual, but..." She said, face contorted as if in deep thought. She shook it off. I guess you are just healthy! I will find you when the results are ready.
She headed out the door, lab coats rustling behind her
Pan smiled mischievously, jumping off the med table.