Welcome back to Dark Consequence. I'm glad that people are enjoying the
story. I'd like to thank my reviewers, for telling me what they think it.
That especially goes for Crash, for giving me some great 'feedback'.
Thanks! I hope that you will all enjoy this new chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ.
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Dark Consequence
By: Ponytail Goddess
Chapter 3: Mother Knows Best
*That was easy* Vegeta thought as she entered the tiny dressing room for the table dancers at a small, but somewhat well known bar. Vegeta had been surprised when she found out that there were tons of bars on this odd planet. The 'humans' seemed to go to them a lot for entertainment.
Vegeta looked around the dimly lighted area. There was a large makeup table pushed up against the left wall. Above it hung a large, but cracked mirror with light bulbs around it, the only light source of the room. There was a blonde woman hunched over it, applying her eye shadow.
On the other side of the closet-sized room was a rack with a few hangers on it. However, judging by the mess of clothing on the floor, nobody bothered to use it. There was a musty stench of alcohol permeating through the room.
Vegeta scrunched up her nose. This was disgusting! What slobs! *The least they could do is clean up their fuckin' messes..........* She thought as she walked over to the corner of the room to change into her outfit of the night. Just as she was about to start explode her capsule that contained her lingerie, she noticed that the other woman in the room was staring at her with one eyebrow cocked up.
"What are you looking bitch?" Vegeta asked, challenging the poor slut's mental capacity. Why couldn't people just leave her alone?!?
The woman stared at her for a few more minutes, then broke out into a large smile. "Hello! I'm Tanga!!! What's your name?"
"Vegeta", she muttered, glaring at the woman with the odd voice that seemed to come straight from her nasal passage. Vegeta pushed the button on her capsule and dropped it; a small metal chest appeared once the smoke cleared.
Tanga's was about ready to say something else, but was interrupted by a harsh voice with a heavy New York accent to it. "Tanga, get out here!!! You have tables four and five tonight! Hurry up, your customers are waiting!!!"
The yelling woman now entered the premises, looking into the dressing room with a rather annoyed face. "Come on, hurry up!"
"Just a second!" Tanga yelped, hoping back to the table to finish making herself over.
Now she looked straight at Vegeta, glaring as she swept her fiery red hair out of her face in one seductive motion. "You, you're the new girl, right?" She said in her deep voice, stating the fact really more than asking. "You have tables twelve and thirteen, ok? Be out here in 30 minutes if you want to get paid."
Vegeta turned her back to her as her instructions ended. "Oh yeah", she started to tack on, "Get rid of the spandex bitch. It does nothing for you figure."
Upon hearing this, Vegeta almost blasted her. Almost. She had to grab her own wrist so that she wouldn't. She needed the money and did not feel like going to find another job that night. She just glared at her as she left, flipping her hair in a snobby way as she did so.
Vegeta turned back to what she was doing. "Who's the red-headed bitch?"
Tanga turned to around to look at her, makeup all over her face in a very whore-like manner. "That was Salsa. She's the head table dancer and our boss." She stated in a serious tone, her face looking slightly dismayed in the dim light. Then she suddenly perked up and said, "Well, I gotta run! Talk to ya later!!!" Once that was said, she was gone, the door slamming behind her.
Finally being alone, Vegeta stripped off her black spandex to put on some lingerie that would be ideal for this job. She slid on a pair of lacy black bikini underwear and the skimpy black bustier that went with it. She completed with ensemble with black thigh-high pantyhose.
Slowly, she drug herself over to the mirror and looked down, a blank expression on her face. She picked up a comb that was lying upon the table and attempted to run it through her impossible hair. She sighed as she broke the teal comb.
*Is this worth it?*
Before every dance she wondered this. Was prostitution, or something that came very close to it, ok to use to get money? Wouldn't it be easier to just steal it?
She pictured her mother in her head now, stating the best advise she had ever given her daughter. She had said, "Do what you must for money, but never steal it, for stealing is for the weak and worthless. Never sink down to that level, no matter what the cost."
*Mom was right. I will not become one of the thieves that I despise. Never.* Vegeta reminded herself, smirking as she started to line her eyes with a black eye pencil. When she was totally made up, Vegeta exited that dressing room with all of her pride and dignity, ready to give it her all as she honored her mother's wise words.
*~*~*~*~*
Goten came to a halt, landing in front of a building that was exploding with technicolored lights, lighting up the dark, almost deserted streets. A Latino beat was pulsing from the building.
"Latino Techno Bar?" Goten mumbled with wide eyes as he read the name that was glowing on the neon sign.
Goten felt a tap and turned to see a man in a trench coat on the ground. "Watch it fag!" The man said as he got up, smashing a joint of what Goten could have sworn was marijuana under his foot. The man quickly walked by him and entered a nearby alley.
"S-sorry!" Goten stuttered out, though the man was now nowhere to be seen. Quickly, Goten crossed the street and walked over to the entrance of the bar.
*She must be in here; I can feel her ki.*
He looked at the sloppy handwritten sign that was posted upon the door. *Cheap table and lap dances* Goten took a step back once he read that. His mother had warned him about places like this. In fact, Chichi had forbidden him to ever set a foot in one of them.
However, he was 26 years old and hadn't lived with his mother for seven years now. He could surely do whatever he wanted.
*But what would mother say if she found out?* Goten cringed at the thought as he pictured his mother chasing him around with her frying pan, screaming that her son was a no good junkie and an assortment of other obstinacies.
Goten sighed with defeat. *I can't do it. I'll just have to wait out here for her to come out. She can't stay in there forever!*
And so with this in mind, Son Goten sat himself down on the ground outside of the club, awaiting the arrival of the mysterious Saiyajin female.
*~*~*~*~*
Slowly, Trunks opened the door to the Capsule Corp. mansion and entered the enormous house. He quietly shut the door, not wanting to alert anyone of his presence. Not bothering to turn on the lights, he trudged up the stairs gently so that they wouldn't not make rattling or squeaky sounds.
*How could he?!? And he never told us......... I can't believe I looked up to him for so long, assuming that he had told us the complete truth about his past. Obviously he didn't.*
Trunks clenched his teeth as he pictured the woman who claimed to be his daughter. She appeared to be much older than himself at least, which meant his father had not cheated upon his mother. *But still............he lied! He always enforced rules on Goten and I but he did not follow them himself! Some example he is............*
After arriving at the top of the stairwell, Trunks turned and headed for his room, hoping to sleep some of the pain off. He kept a bottle of vodka under his bed. It would assist him with his mental pain as well.
"Trunks-kun?" He heard as he started to open the door to his room. He cringed and turned to look at his mother.
*Oh dear Dende...........*
"Trunks-kun, what is wrong? You look horrible dear!!!" Bulma stated, concern strewn all over her face.
Trunks said nothing and stared at the carpeting. He didn't want to hurt his mother. Before he could get a hold of himself, tears started to flow down his face, giving away his true feelings.
"Trunks-kun!" Bulma exclaimed, dropping her basket of laundry and wrapping her arms around her only son. "What is wrong Trunks-kun?!? Oh Dende, what did your father do this time?"
*Dende, how does she know so much..........*
He just wept on her shoulder, crying out the pain. Bulma rubbed his back as he sobbed upon her shoulder, leaving a large wet area on her sweater. "Trunks-kun........was it your father?" Bulma whispered into his ear.
Trunks nodded, not being able to lie to his mother on the topic. Finally he gained part of his control back and got off his knees, standing up and looking his mother straight in the eyes. "Mom, there's something you need to know about.........."
Bulma just stared blankly at him, waiting for the words that she knew she was not going to want to hear.
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Well, did you like it? Please review. Thanks. I'll try to post more of this soon. Have a nice day!
-P.G.
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ.
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Dark Consequence
By: Ponytail Goddess
Chapter 3: Mother Knows Best
*That was easy* Vegeta thought as she entered the tiny dressing room for the table dancers at a small, but somewhat well known bar. Vegeta had been surprised when she found out that there were tons of bars on this odd planet. The 'humans' seemed to go to them a lot for entertainment.
Vegeta looked around the dimly lighted area. There was a large makeup table pushed up against the left wall. Above it hung a large, but cracked mirror with light bulbs around it, the only light source of the room. There was a blonde woman hunched over it, applying her eye shadow.
On the other side of the closet-sized room was a rack with a few hangers on it. However, judging by the mess of clothing on the floor, nobody bothered to use it. There was a musty stench of alcohol permeating through the room.
Vegeta scrunched up her nose. This was disgusting! What slobs! *The least they could do is clean up their fuckin' messes..........* She thought as she walked over to the corner of the room to change into her outfit of the night. Just as she was about to start explode her capsule that contained her lingerie, she noticed that the other woman in the room was staring at her with one eyebrow cocked up.
"What are you looking bitch?" Vegeta asked, challenging the poor slut's mental capacity. Why couldn't people just leave her alone?!?
The woman stared at her for a few more minutes, then broke out into a large smile. "Hello! I'm Tanga!!! What's your name?"
"Vegeta", she muttered, glaring at the woman with the odd voice that seemed to come straight from her nasal passage. Vegeta pushed the button on her capsule and dropped it; a small metal chest appeared once the smoke cleared.
Tanga's was about ready to say something else, but was interrupted by a harsh voice with a heavy New York accent to it. "Tanga, get out here!!! You have tables four and five tonight! Hurry up, your customers are waiting!!!"
The yelling woman now entered the premises, looking into the dressing room with a rather annoyed face. "Come on, hurry up!"
"Just a second!" Tanga yelped, hoping back to the table to finish making herself over.
Now she looked straight at Vegeta, glaring as she swept her fiery red hair out of her face in one seductive motion. "You, you're the new girl, right?" She said in her deep voice, stating the fact really more than asking. "You have tables twelve and thirteen, ok? Be out here in 30 minutes if you want to get paid."
Vegeta turned her back to her as her instructions ended. "Oh yeah", she started to tack on, "Get rid of the spandex bitch. It does nothing for you figure."
Upon hearing this, Vegeta almost blasted her. Almost. She had to grab her own wrist so that she wouldn't. She needed the money and did not feel like going to find another job that night. She just glared at her as she left, flipping her hair in a snobby way as she did so.
Vegeta turned back to what she was doing. "Who's the red-headed bitch?"
Tanga turned to around to look at her, makeup all over her face in a very whore-like manner. "That was Salsa. She's the head table dancer and our boss." She stated in a serious tone, her face looking slightly dismayed in the dim light. Then she suddenly perked up and said, "Well, I gotta run! Talk to ya later!!!" Once that was said, she was gone, the door slamming behind her.
Finally being alone, Vegeta stripped off her black spandex to put on some lingerie that would be ideal for this job. She slid on a pair of lacy black bikini underwear and the skimpy black bustier that went with it. She completed with ensemble with black thigh-high pantyhose.
Slowly, she drug herself over to the mirror and looked down, a blank expression on her face. She picked up a comb that was lying upon the table and attempted to run it through her impossible hair. She sighed as she broke the teal comb.
*Is this worth it?*
Before every dance she wondered this. Was prostitution, or something that came very close to it, ok to use to get money? Wouldn't it be easier to just steal it?
She pictured her mother in her head now, stating the best advise she had ever given her daughter. She had said, "Do what you must for money, but never steal it, for stealing is for the weak and worthless. Never sink down to that level, no matter what the cost."
*Mom was right. I will not become one of the thieves that I despise. Never.* Vegeta reminded herself, smirking as she started to line her eyes with a black eye pencil. When she was totally made up, Vegeta exited that dressing room with all of her pride and dignity, ready to give it her all as she honored her mother's wise words.
*~*~*~*~*
Goten came to a halt, landing in front of a building that was exploding with technicolored lights, lighting up the dark, almost deserted streets. A Latino beat was pulsing from the building.
"Latino Techno Bar?" Goten mumbled with wide eyes as he read the name that was glowing on the neon sign.
Goten felt a tap and turned to see a man in a trench coat on the ground. "Watch it fag!" The man said as he got up, smashing a joint of what Goten could have sworn was marijuana under his foot. The man quickly walked by him and entered a nearby alley.
"S-sorry!" Goten stuttered out, though the man was now nowhere to be seen. Quickly, Goten crossed the street and walked over to the entrance of the bar.
*She must be in here; I can feel her ki.*
He looked at the sloppy handwritten sign that was posted upon the door. *Cheap table and lap dances* Goten took a step back once he read that. His mother had warned him about places like this. In fact, Chichi had forbidden him to ever set a foot in one of them.
However, he was 26 years old and hadn't lived with his mother for seven years now. He could surely do whatever he wanted.
*But what would mother say if she found out?* Goten cringed at the thought as he pictured his mother chasing him around with her frying pan, screaming that her son was a no good junkie and an assortment of other obstinacies.
Goten sighed with defeat. *I can't do it. I'll just have to wait out here for her to come out. She can't stay in there forever!*
And so with this in mind, Son Goten sat himself down on the ground outside of the club, awaiting the arrival of the mysterious Saiyajin female.
*~*~*~*~*
Slowly, Trunks opened the door to the Capsule Corp. mansion and entered the enormous house. He quietly shut the door, not wanting to alert anyone of his presence. Not bothering to turn on the lights, he trudged up the stairs gently so that they wouldn't not make rattling or squeaky sounds.
*How could he?!? And he never told us......... I can't believe I looked up to him for so long, assuming that he had told us the complete truth about his past. Obviously he didn't.*
Trunks clenched his teeth as he pictured the woman who claimed to be his daughter. She appeared to be much older than himself at least, which meant his father had not cheated upon his mother. *But still............he lied! He always enforced rules on Goten and I but he did not follow them himself! Some example he is............*
After arriving at the top of the stairwell, Trunks turned and headed for his room, hoping to sleep some of the pain off. He kept a bottle of vodka under his bed. It would assist him with his mental pain as well.
"Trunks-kun?" He heard as he started to open the door to his room. He cringed and turned to look at his mother.
*Oh dear Dende...........*
"Trunks-kun, what is wrong? You look horrible dear!!!" Bulma stated, concern strewn all over her face.
Trunks said nothing and stared at the carpeting. He didn't want to hurt his mother. Before he could get a hold of himself, tears started to flow down his face, giving away his true feelings.
"Trunks-kun!" Bulma exclaimed, dropping her basket of laundry and wrapping her arms around her only son. "What is wrong Trunks-kun?!? Oh Dende, what did your father do this time?"
*Dende, how does she know so much..........*
He just wept on her shoulder, crying out the pain. Bulma rubbed his back as he sobbed upon her shoulder, leaving a large wet area on her sweater. "Trunks-kun........was it your father?" Bulma whispered into his ear.
Trunks nodded, not being able to lie to his mother on the topic. Finally he gained part of his control back and got off his knees, standing up and looking his mother straight in the eyes. "Mom, there's something you need to know about.........."
Bulma just stared blankly at him, waiting for the words that she knew she was not going to want to hear.
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Well, did you like it? Please review. Thanks. I'll try to post more of this soon. Have a nice day!
-P.G.