Chapter 3- "Help Me"
Vegeta's eyes went wide, and his heart began to race. He stepped carefully over her to reach the bathroom sink. Drawers flew open as Vegeta searched desparately in search of a band-aid. He found some guase, and recognized it from his accident. The frightened prince immediately went to work, amateurly covering the wound. He was unsure of what to do next. Mr. and Mrs. Briefs had left on a two month cruise a week ago and he hadn't learned how to work the telephone yet.
He removed his gloves, rolled up the sleeves of his tattered training outfit, and lifted the bloody body into his arms. He was half thankful she at least had on a bathrobe. He floated slowly and carefully to his room and laid her gently on his bed. Vegeta could feel that underneath she was covered in blood and if she woke up and found her bed stained she'd die.
Still unsure of what to do, he sat down at the chair next to the bed like Bulma had for him. The tables had turned. He had the same decision she had: Leave and go on with your own business, or take care and make them feel better. She had spent two weeks with him, talking with him about his battles and what it felt like with Freeza. No one had cared enough to ask him before. No one had cared enough to heal him before either. For those two weeks he felt... cared for. Now it was his turn.
She's not moving.
::She's unconscious::
But I'm hungry!
::Make sure she's okay::
Can't I just wake her up?
Every few minutes he'd check her pulse and be sure she was still breathing. Certain she was sleeping well, Vegeta returned to the bathroom to clean the remainder of the mess up. On his journey to the bathroom, he walked slower than his usual speed walk to think. What could possibly have happened to her? Was it not just an accident? No, she wouldn't have done something like that on purpose... would she?
He entered the bathroom again, memories of her helpless frame motionless on the floor. He opened a drawer and found a mess of capsules. Toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss, shampoo, is there anything besides her junk in here?? Okay, now let's see. AH! Floor cleaner! Sponge, no.... towel, if i have to.... Toilet paper, toilet paper, toilet paper... what the?? Another one?? Does she think the entire Z team will need to use the bathroom at the same time?? Silly woman! Is everything in this bloody house in a capsule?? She'll probably turn ME into a capsule!! Oh wait, she already has!! He was getting frustrated with searching through the drawer and finding next to nothing.
Make up?? What the hell is that?.... And why is there so much of it??
::Why don't you open it Vegeta::
Before you were keeping me out of trouble!
::Well a little make up won't hurt::
He looked around to be sure no one was watching and popped the capsule open. A large case of blush, foundation, lipstick, eye makeup, etc., opened in front of him along with a miniature mirror with a small picture attatched the the corner. Vegeta looked closely to see it was of a model-like person that looked similar to Bulma, except her eyes were purple. She had purple above her eyes and a bold red glazing her lips. Is this what 'make up' is for?? To make one pretty? With difficulty he opened a tube of "Fire Engine Red" lipstick and stuffed it in his mouth. Nasty! It tastes horrible! He wiped his mouth, smearing the red across his face. He looked in the mirror and saw that it looked like it was applied by an armless, blind squirrel. He scraped a mound of blue eye shadow, put it up to his nose, sniffed it, then popped it in his mouth. Disgusting!! I guess it's only for the face. He scraped up some green eye shadow and inspected it closely. He looked to the picture and noticed there was red flushing the model person's cheeks. He smeared the green powder across his cheeks like war paint.
He checked his reflection. Now he looked like he was from a far-away exotic tribe or was attaked by an evil ban of pre-schoolers with crayons.
::One more, Vegeta. It's not that bad::
Thats what you think. You're not the one wearing it!
He picked up the mascara bottle and twisted it open. He'd seen the woman lift it to her eyes. The model had purple above her eye so he swiped the mascara brush across his eyelid. Now he looked horrendous. He either lost a battle with an evil artist or tried playing 'Princess' with a two year old little girl. He popped the button to close the box and it exploded back into a space efficient little capsule.
Continuing to search through the drawer, he finally stumbled upon a capsule marked 'mop'. He popped it open and attacked the mess. The deep redness reminded him of his battles; all he'd won and lost. He remembered his victory over Zarbon and Dodoria, his agonizing death at the hands of Freeza, he winced at the memory, and . . . his thoughts were interrupted when he pushed the mop and heard a *tinkle* sound. He withdrew the mop and found on the floor a bloodied shard of glass, extremely sharp. It was of pretty fair size; enough to seriously hurt someone. . .
Vegeta's eyes went wide, and his heart began to race. He stepped carefully over her to reach the bathroom sink. Drawers flew open as Vegeta searched desparately in search of a band-aid. He found some guase, and recognized it from his accident. The frightened prince immediately went to work, amateurly covering the wound. He was unsure of what to do next. Mr. and Mrs. Briefs had left on a two month cruise a week ago and he hadn't learned how to work the telephone yet.
He removed his gloves, rolled up the sleeves of his tattered training outfit, and lifted the bloody body into his arms. He was half thankful she at least had on a bathrobe. He floated slowly and carefully to his room and laid her gently on his bed. Vegeta could feel that underneath she was covered in blood and if she woke up and found her bed stained she'd die.
Still unsure of what to do, he sat down at the chair next to the bed like Bulma had for him. The tables had turned. He had the same decision she had: Leave and go on with your own business, or take care and make them feel better. She had spent two weeks with him, talking with him about his battles and what it felt like with Freeza. No one had cared enough to ask him before. No one had cared enough to heal him before either. For those two weeks he felt... cared for. Now it was his turn.
She's not moving.
::She's unconscious::
But I'm hungry!
::Make sure she's okay::
Can't I just wake her up?
Every few minutes he'd check her pulse and be sure she was still breathing. Certain she was sleeping well, Vegeta returned to the bathroom to clean the remainder of the mess up. On his journey to the bathroom, he walked slower than his usual speed walk to think. What could possibly have happened to her? Was it not just an accident? No, she wouldn't have done something like that on purpose... would she?
He entered the bathroom again, memories of her helpless frame motionless on the floor. He opened a drawer and found a mess of capsules. Toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss, shampoo, is there anything besides her junk in here?? Okay, now let's see. AH! Floor cleaner! Sponge, no.... towel, if i have to.... Toilet paper, toilet paper, toilet paper... what the?? Another one?? Does she think the entire Z team will need to use the bathroom at the same time?? Silly woman! Is everything in this bloody house in a capsule?? She'll probably turn ME into a capsule!! Oh wait, she already has!! He was getting frustrated with searching through the drawer and finding next to nothing.
Make up?? What the hell is that?.... And why is there so much of it??
::Why don't you open it Vegeta::
Before you were keeping me out of trouble!
::Well a little make up won't hurt::
He looked around to be sure no one was watching and popped the capsule open. A large case of blush, foundation, lipstick, eye makeup, etc., opened in front of him along with a miniature mirror with a small picture attatched the the corner. Vegeta looked closely to see it was of a model-like person that looked similar to Bulma, except her eyes were purple. She had purple above her eyes and a bold red glazing her lips. Is this what 'make up' is for?? To make one pretty? With difficulty he opened a tube of "Fire Engine Red" lipstick and stuffed it in his mouth. Nasty! It tastes horrible! He wiped his mouth, smearing the red across his face. He looked in the mirror and saw that it looked like it was applied by an armless, blind squirrel. He scraped a mound of blue eye shadow, put it up to his nose, sniffed it, then popped it in his mouth. Disgusting!! I guess it's only for the face. He scraped up some green eye shadow and inspected it closely. He looked to the picture and noticed there was red flushing the model person's cheeks. He smeared the green powder across his cheeks like war paint.
He checked his reflection. Now he looked like he was from a far-away exotic tribe or was attaked by an evil ban of pre-schoolers with crayons.
::One more, Vegeta. It's not that bad::
Thats what you think. You're not the one wearing it!
He picked up the mascara bottle and twisted it open. He'd seen the woman lift it to her eyes. The model had purple above her eye so he swiped the mascara brush across his eyelid. Now he looked horrendous. He either lost a battle with an evil artist or tried playing 'Princess' with a two year old little girl. He popped the button to close the box and it exploded back into a space efficient little capsule.
Continuing to search through the drawer, he finally stumbled upon a capsule marked 'mop'. He popped it open and attacked the mess. The deep redness reminded him of his battles; all he'd won and lost. He remembered his victory over Zarbon and Dodoria, his agonizing death at the hands of Freeza, he winced at the memory, and . . . his thoughts were interrupted when he pushed the mop and heard a *tinkle* sound. He withdrew the mop and found on the floor a bloodied shard of glass, extremely sharp. It was of pretty fair size; enough to seriously hurt someone. . .
