Chapter 2- "Pain"
At dinner, Vegeta still remained training in the banged up gravity machine. Maybe she's right.Maybe I'm not... what did she say? Pulling my weight? What the hell does that mean? Stupid earth phrases. Why am I still on this bloody planet anyway? Kakarot and that woman are the only ones who talk to me. I could be out conquering the universe right now. She has been rather...er... nice to me though... He cranked up the gravity a few notches, still unable to get what she said out of his head. He threw a blast at a floating droid and it whizzed past him, richocheying off another droid. He sent a second blast as he dodged the first. Before long, he had four blasts going, and they all crashed into him at once, sending the worn prince flying into the wall, breaking off a piece of metal hanging by a bolt. Damn piece of junk! I hate that woman!! he muttered in Saiyan. He soon regret his words after remembering a few weeks back. He could never forget that explosion incident.
Bulma dashed to his side and held his head in her arms. Yamcha had run out behind her and stared dumbfoundedly at the rubble left from the gravity machine. He stayed back a few feet, never dropping his fear of Vegeta. Yamcha looked on warily as his girlfriend held the Prince tenderly in her arms, and used her sleeve to wipe the blood off his face. Vegeta tried to move away, not wanting to be helped, but only collapsed in Bulma's arms. Since Yamcha could only keep his distance, she propped the unconscious Prince onto her shoulder, his arm limply hanging around her, as she managed to drag him inside to his room.
Even while Vegeta slept, Bulma wouldn't leave his side. In his waking hours she paid careful notice that he didn't leave bed and kept up a meager diet of bread and chicken noodle soup. When he began to function again, she began repairs on what was left of the gravity machine. After the rustic machine was working, she holed herself up in her laboratory, fixed on improving the invention, for Vegeta.
He hadn't noticed, but Vegeta had stopped training and was staring into space. He held up the broken piece of scrap metal, thinking of how nice it was of her to build an entirely new machine. The thought of her and his use of the word 'nice' made him crumble the metal into a tight ball.
"I can't stand that woman! Nice?? She's bossy and arrogant and loud- mouthed!.... She's practically Saiyan... NO! She's an ugly bitch and I hate her and... she's... beautiful and intelligent and... NO! What's gotten into you? You hate her! I hate her! Her fruity little boyfriend hates her!" Vegeta calmed himself from his momentary hysteria. He concluded his recent lack of food was causing his brain to malfunction, so he powerd down the junk machine and headed for the kitchen.
Bulma had awoken on the bathroom floor with a soapy, bloody puddle formed around her. She couldn't remember anything, only that there was a piercing pain in her right temple. She slowly got to her feet, but her head was still swimming. Bulma had barely enough energy in her to turn off the shower and wrap herself in a bathrobe. She stumbled over to the fogged mirror and wiped off a circle with her bathrobe sleeve. Her shampoo-filled hair was caked in blood on her right side, along with a red river rolling down her cheek.
She shakily moved her hand towards the source of blood. Her pale hand pulled back a clump of hair, revealing in the mirror a fair-sized shard of glass. She panicked and yanked the monstrous piece out in fear. The room began to spin and dance as more blood came. Her last blurred view was of the puddle seeping slowly underneath the door.
Where is that blasted woman! I am hungry and want food! That child is probably playing a trick on me for what I did. Stupid arrogant woman! We'll see who has the last laugh! Vegeta had been sitting impatiently at the Briefs' dining room table for over half an hour. :::food::: He kicked the large package in spite, wishing to open it out of curiosity. maybe it's a package of steaks! Vegeta's mouth watered as he tugged lightly at an open end of tape.
::Bad boy Vegeta, you shouldn't do that::
I can do anything I want!
::It's not yours, Vegeta::
So?! I'm hungry!
::What would Bulma say?::
Do I care what she would say?
::You do::
Loser. He realized he was defeated, so he gave up. He went to reside on the couch where hours earlier the incident had occurred. The TV remained broken along with the glass littering the floor. He was getting really aggrivated with his situation. The woman was gone, he had no food, and his gravity machine was falling apart. He couldn't eat or train or even watch TV. For once, the Saiyan Prince was bored.
He began to growl under his breath, when suddenly he heard a thud from above him. Ah, so you're trying to hide little woman! She'd better have a damn good exucse why I don't have my dinner! he thought as he descended the stairs. He walked for a while, and the first room he came to was Bulma's. He peered momentarily inside, but snapped out of himself and continued down the long, surprisingly wide, hallway. It curved left at his room, thanks to the odd shape of the building. The reason his room was shaped like a moon. She's taunting me because I lost my tail. (moon-tail get it? ha ha! ~_~' sorry)
He passed an open door which appeared to be Bulma's lab. Since it took up a quarter of the building it was hard to miss. Broken droids were draped neatly across tables, gadgets were scattered across the floor, capsules covered another desk, and the wall was filled with diplomas and awards. He took a step in then looked around cautiously, just in case she was hiding. He took a look at several of the diplomas and charts hanging on the walls. They were all so extensive and detailed, Vegeta didn't understand a single microchip. He scuffled over to the desk of capsules. Each was covered with a series of random numbers that meant nothing to Vegeta. How in the world can she tell any of these apart?? Upon further inspection, he discovered the name of the object printed plainly of the bottom of the capsule. Training bot #4682. He was tempted to open one, but if the woman caught him he'd never live it down.
He searched through the rest of the capsules, finally coming across an intersting one marked 'Vegeta'.
::Vegeta...::
What now?!
::You're not going to open it::
I'm not listening to you again!... Who are you anyway??
::Your insanity::
I'm perfectly sane!! I'm the only fighter who has it straight!
::You're lying to yourself Vegeta::
I don't care what you say! I'm opening it! Damn insanity. Drives me crazy.
He punched the top of the tube and tossed it next to him. As the smoke cleared, Vegeta's jaw dropped at the sight before his eyes. It was a mirror image of him... only not. A full sized model of himself, Vegeta! Or it would be him when it was completed. Skin was missing on one side of the face, revealing a complex mass of gears and trinkets. He was wearing his typical spandex suit, but for some reason the robot looked better in it than he did. The robot was complete with the typical saiyin training armor and Vegeta's famous gold tipped boots. Across the forehead read, Vegeta 2.
In Vegeta 2's hand was a slip of paper with Bulma's undecipherable scribble taking up its space. It read: "Fix face, check measurements, make stronger..." It was obviously a to-do list. What was this for? Was it her own personal punching bag to beat the crap out of after they fought? Why would she want another one of what made her so angry?
Vegeta gazed in awe at her genius in the complex android. A sliver of admiration slipped into his mind as he circled the machine.
::You like it don't you Vegeta::
Not bad... Hey! My butt is too big! How dare that woman! When I find her I'll... He recollected his quest was to find her and verbally beat her into a pulp. But he couldn't help thinking as he returned the robot to it's capsule, Her brains match my braun! How weird! He pulled his eyes away from the room and continued on his exploration.
He walked farther, still bored and curious. Before the hall curved again, Vegeta stepped in a wet spot in the carpet. He looked at his feet to see red water soaking into his gold-tipped white boots. There was a light coming from under the door to the master bathroom.
"Woman! Are you in there?" Vegeta banged on the door with his fist. He heard a weak moan come from the other side. Does it really take THAT long to shower?? He wiggled the knob, but to his dismay it was locked. He took tight hold of the gold polished doorknob and proceeded to rip the bathroom door off it's hinges. There lay Bulma, a helpless little being surrounded by a pool of watery blood.
At dinner, Vegeta still remained training in the banged up gravity machine. Maybe she's right.Maybe I'm not... what did she say? Pulling my weight? What the hell does that mean? Stupid earth phrases. Why am I still on this bloody planet anyway? Kakarot and that woman are the only ones who talk to me. I could be out conquering the universe right now. She has been rather...er... nice to me though... He cranked up the gravity a few notches, still unable to get what she said out of his head. He threw a blast at a floating droid and it whizzed past him, richocheying off another droid. He sent a second blast as he dodged the first. Before long, he had four blasts going, and they all crashed into him at once, sending the worn prince flying into the wall, breaking off a piece of metal hanging by a bolt. Damn piece of junk! I hate that woman!! he muttered in Saiyan. He soon regret his words after remembering a few weeks back. He could never forget that explosion incident.
Bulma dashed to his side and held his head in her arms. Yamcha had run out behind her and stared dumbfoundedly at the rubble left from the gravity machine. He stayed back a few feet, never dropping his fear of Vegeta. Yamcha looked on warily as his girlfriend held the Prince tenderly in her arms, and used her sleeve to wipe the blood off his face. Vegeta tried to move away, not wanting to be helped, but only collapsed in Bulma's arms. Since Yamcha could only keep his distance, she propped the unconscious Prince onto her shoulder, his arm limply hanging around her, as she managed to drag him inside to his room.
Even while Vegeta slept, Bulma wouldn't leave his side. In his waking hours she paid careful notice that he didn't leave bed and kept up a meager diet of bread and chicken noodle soup. When he began to function again, she began repairs on what was left of the gravity machine. After the rustic machine was working, she holed herself up in her laboratory, fixed on improving the invention, for Vegeta.
He hadn't noticed, but Vegeta had stopped training and was staring into space. He held up the broken piece of scrap metal, thinking of how nice it was of her to build an entirely new machine. The thought of her and his use of the word 'nice' made him crumble the metal into a tight ball.
"I can't stand that woman! Nice?? She's bossy and arrogant and loud- mouthed!.... She's practically Saiyan... NO! She's an ugly bitch and I hate her and... she's... beautiful and intelligent and... NO! What's gotten into you? You hate her! I hate her! Her fruity little boyfriend hates her!" Vegeta calmed himself from his momentary hysteria. He concluded his recent lack of food was causing his brain to malfunction, so he powerd down the junk machine and headed for the kitchen.
Bulma had awoken on the bathroom floor with a soapy, bloody puddle formed around her. She couldn't remember anything, only that there was a piercing pain in her right temple. She slowly got to her feet, but her head was still swimming. Bulma had barely enough energy in her to turn off the shower and wrap herself in a bathrobe. She stumbled over to the fogged mirror and wiped off a circle with her bathrobe sleeve. Her shampoo-filled hair was caked in blood on her right side, along with a red river rolling down her cheek.
She shakily moved her hand towards the source of blood. Her pale hand pulled back a clump of hair, revealing in the mirror a fair-sized shard of glass. She panicked and yanked the monstrous piece out in fear. The room began to spin and dance as more blood came. Her last blurred view was of the puddle seeping slowly underneath the door.
Where is that blasted woman! I am hungry and want food! That child is probably playing a trick on me for what I did. Stupid arrogant woman! We'll see who has the last laugh! Vegeta had been sitting impatiently at the Briefs' dining room table for over half an hour. :::food::: He kicked the large package in spite, wishing to open it out of curiosity. maybe it's a package of steaks! Vegeta's mouth watered as he tugged lightly at an open end of tape.
::Bad boy Vegeta, you shouldn't do that::
I can do anything I want!
::It's not yours, Vegeta::
So?! I'm hungry!
::What would Bulma say?::
Do I care what she would say?
::You do::
Loser. He realized he was defeated, so he gave up. He went to reside on the couch where hours earlier the incident had occurred. The TV remained broken along with the glass littering the floor. He was getting really aggrivated with his situation. The woman was gone, he had no food, and his gravity machine was falling apart. He couldn't eat or train or even watch TV. For once, the Saiyan Prince was bored.
He began to growl under his breath, when suddenly he heard a thud from above him. Ah, so you're trying to hide little woman! She'd better have a damn good exucse why I don't have my dinner! he thought as he descended the stairs. He walked for a while, and the first room he came to was Bulma's. He peered momentarily inside, but snapped out of himself and continued down the long, surprisingly wide, hallway. It curved left at his room, thanks to the odd shape of the building. The reason his room was shaped like a moon. She's taunting me because I lost my tail. (moon-tail get it? ha ha! ~_~' sorry)
He passed an open door which appeared to be Bulma's lab. Since it took up a quarter of the building it was hard to miss. Broken droids were draped neatly across tables, gadgets were scattered across the floor, capsules covered another desk, and the wall was filled with diplomas and awards. He took a step in then looked around cautiously, just in case she was hiding. He took a look at several of the diplomas and charts hanging on the walls. They were all so extensive and detailed, Vegeta didn't understand a single microchip. He scuffled over to the desk of capsules. Each was covered with a series of random numbers that meant nothing to Vegeta. How in the world can she tell any of these apart?? Upon further inspection, he discovered the name of the object printed plainly of the bottom of the capsule. Training bot #4682. He was tempted to open one, but if the woman caught him he'd never live it down.
He searched through the rest of the capsules, finally coming across an intersting one marked 'Vegeta'.
::Vegeta...::
What now?!
::You're not going to open it::
I'm not listening to you again!... Who are you anyway??
::Your insanity::
I'm perfectly sane!! I'm the only fighter who has it straight!
::You're lying to yourself Vegeta::
I don't care what you say! I'm opening it! Damn insanity. Drives me crazy.
He punched the top of the tube and tossed it next to him. As the smoke cleared, Vegeta's jaw dropped at the sight before his eyes. It was a mirror image of him... only not. A full sized model of himself, Vegeta! Or it would be him when it was completed. Skin was missing on one side of the face, revealing a complex mass of gears and trinkets. He was wearing his typical spandex suit, but for some reason the robot looked better in it than he did. The robot was complete with the typical saiyin training armor and Vegeta's famous gold tipped boots. Across the forehead read, Vegeta 2.
In Vegeta 2's hand was a slip of paper with Bulma's undecipherable scribble taking up its space. It read: "Fix face, check measurements, make stronger..." It was obviously a to-do list. What was this for? Was it her own personal punching bag to beat the crap out of after they fought? Why would she want another one of what made her so angry?
Vegeta gazed in awe at her genius in the complex android. A sliver of admiration slipped into his mind as he circled the machine.
::You like it don't you Vegeta::
Not bad... Hey! My butt is too big! How dare that woman! When I find her I'll... He recollected his quest was to find her and verbally beat her into a pulp. But he couldn't help thinking as he returned the robot to it's capsule, Her brains match my braun! How weird! He pulled his eyes away from the room and continued on his exploration.
He walked farther, still bored and curious. Before the hall curved again, Vegeta stepped in a wet spot in the carpet. He looked at his feet to see red water soaking into his gold-tipped white boots. There was a light coming from under the door to the master bathroom.
"Woman! Are you in there?" Vegeta banged on the door with his fist. He heard a weak moan come from the other side. Does it really take THAT long to shower?? He wiggled the knob, but to his dismay it was locked. He took tight hold of the gold polished doorknob and proceeded to rip the bathroom door off it's hinges. There lay Bulma, a helpless little being surrounded by a pool of watery blood.
