Piccolo landed at the darkened building shortly after sunset; the sounds of
traffic echoed dully off of high cement walls, and empty hollow aluminum
hangar sized storage sheds that made the outside world noises sound eerie
and distorted. The area had the isolated 'keep-out' feel to it, and the
namek was sure that was what the place had wanted; was for everyone to keep
out. Well, Piccolo thought with faint amusement, they didn't count on
people who could actually show up from above.
He looked around at the building; it still stood tall, and whole; the first floor had the official business look to it, large smoked glass windows gleamed dully in the night light, polished to where it reflected out, so that a person approaching couldn't see inside. Not that it bothered Piccolo; even if there were people inside he could have easily gotten past them, and to his goal. The next three or so levels of the building was interspersed with windows here and there, some too narrow to provide any decent outside lighting, and he wondered if those windows were meant to keep those inside, curious about the outside world, maybe a world they weren't allowed to go out into.
Piccolo had been mildly curious about the building, and reluctantly had gone to Bulma and asked about Cyscal Gene Labs, and what purpose they had served during it's hey day of genetic splicing and experiments. Bulma had told him that the place had been military contracted, that they had performed experiments in humans and animals alike, trying to find the perfect combination that would allow the military to have their super human army. There had also been rumors that the military had found a couple of alien life forms as well, and had quickly hidden them there in the labs, supposedly in the basements; but neither Bulma nor her father could confirm it, nor had they wanted to. Both had believed that the labs were an abomination to science and to the military.
So Piccolo had gotten the address from Bulma and without a word to anyone else, he'd flown halfway across the country in search of the voice that had spoken to him in his dreams, in the strange language he knew, yet didn't know. The voice that had cried for help, that they were trapped and couldn't get out; but what did it mean? Was there some alien creature inside that had sought out another akin to it, trapped and forgotten?
Well, he was about to find out. Popping the door open with a simple flex of ki, he stepped inside the dark reception area. It reeked of dust, mold and medicine, along with a strong hint of decaying things. Things abandoned, forgotten or simply tossed aside. Wrinkling his nose at the smell of decay he continued his way inside, ignoring the dead potted plants, the plastic covered couches and chairs in the waiting room.
Hnn, waiting room, waiting for what. What did they expect people to do? Come in and volunteer to be genetically altered? Somehow I doubt that they had very many people knocking on their doors to become a potential corpse in the name of science. Piccolo mused silently.
He stopped at the reception desk, looking for something that would indicate what was on each floor. After a few moments of tossing aside useless papers, order forms, and consent signature forms, he came across the key map and studied it in the dimmed emergency lighting, ignoring the fact that he'd just made a mess out of the reception area. It wasn't like anyone was going to show up soon and scold him for tossing aside papers that had been turned into rats' nests and homes for spiders.
First floor held nothing but the typical office lay out, reception desk, waiting room, and paper pushers offices, the grunts who did all the leg work. Second floor was mostly again offices and a few unmarked rooms, to which he assumed, were either bathrooms or cleaning supplies closets, since they seemed to indicate on the map to be too small to serve any other purpose than that. Third floor held some promise, the rooms were more laid out in a formal row, each one carefully marked with a room number, but hardly any of them indicated what they were for. Fourth floor was a complete blank; it looked like it was just one large storage area divided into five or six different rooms.
Turning the key map over, he studied two smaller drawn diagrams that divided the page; one said SL: 1, the other SL: 2. Absently tucking the map into his belt sash, he headed for the elevators, he knew there was no way that they were still operational, but he could if needed to force the doors open and punch a hole through either the ceiling or floor allowing him to squeeze through.
Well, if there's one thing I've learned while being forced to sit and watch horror movies and video games with Goku and Gohan when he was a kid, was that there were always the following three things in a building like this. Sub-basements, blood splattered walls, and monsters. The only variation in this little scenario is that I'm the monster hunting- whatever.
Whoever called me, said that it was dark, cold, very cold and quiet. That would probably indicate that they're in a basement somewhere; since who ever came through here when they closed down, made sure the place was cleaned and covered before locking the doors. Chances are, they didn't even know of any possible sub-levels. The third floors had windows, fourth floor did as well, but higher set and thin, like the kind of windows you'd find in a prison.
Forcing the elevator doors open, he was pleased to see that the shaft was virtually empty going downward; looking up, he noted that the carriages had been stopped on the top floor, and hung there eternally waiting for some one to come and use them again.
Jumping down, he extended his other senses, the senses he used to detect ki, and sometimes thought patterns, looking for the mind of the voice that had called to him so desperately three days ago. Passing the regular basement level, he stopped at the first sub-basement and pried the doors open, landing on the tiled floor. It was virtually pitch black, but his sensitive eyes picked out shapes. He summoned up a ki sphere, the energy lit the area around him and it helped with figuring out which direction to go.
Gazing at his surroundings Piccolo had the feeling of being trapped for a moment; he snorted and shook off the feeling, it was a ridiculous feeling and thought; he could easily destroy this building with hardly a thought, why should he feel trapped?
Then it occurred to him, that perhaps it wasn't he who was feeling trapped, but whatever that had called him here. Pressing on he ignored the creeping darkness around him, the light of his ki making it look as if a halo of light followed him, keeping the inky blackness at bay, keeping it from consuming him and swallowing him whole.
Stop that! Piccolo snarled to himself and to whatever it was that called him. Stop acting like a child, and you, whoever you are stop putting these emotions into my head!
Amazingly enough the feelings went away, and he was able to resume his search without feeling anything else other than what he wanted to feel, and that suited him fine, it at least let him focus on where he was going, and kept him from getting lost in the labyrinth of hallways.
Over there, to his right was light creeping out from under a door. It was the only light on in this level and he seemed to just know that it was the place he needed to be. Piccolo stepped around an apparently hastily discarded gurney, distinguishing the ki light. He paused a moment, not sure if he was ready to face what was inside. IF there was anything inside to face, and if whatever was in there actually in there and alive. Steeling himself he pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The room was destroyed, it looked like a tornado had swept through tossing everything aside after breaking it; a cryo-capsule stood in the center of the room like a sentinel to the destruction, or perhaps responsible for it. The light that illuminated the room came from the capsule itself, and he approached cautiously- something didn't feel quite right. Glass crunched loudly under his feet in the silence and it again set him on edge. He got the distinct feeling of hatred, the emotion almost as thick as the dust that covered the room; and it set him on edge, making him glance at the shadows that lurked in the corner. He half expected something to come lunging out at him as he approached the capsule, but of course nothing did.
The glass was cracked, pieces of it had fallen out and as Piccolo peered into the darkened capsule he choked and gagged as the stench hit him, the thing inside was anything but human and it had been dead for some time. It grinned in its death grin, the hands obviously broken from its attempts to escape; the eyes bulged out of their sockets in a mummified stare of horror. How long has this thing been here? Piccolo wondered as he stepped back and studied the creature more fully.
It had an odd appearance, at least the husk did, and it eerily reminded him of Cell in one of his weaker forms; it looked as if the body had been nothing more than a host, the chest split open, the skin and bone around the open area exposed and splintered, as if something had exploded from its chest and had taken most of the internal organs with it. If the thing had internal organs to begin with; suppressing another shudder he quickly exited the room, into the hallway and down off to his left, where he noticed another light underneath a doorway, this one a bit more brighter than the last room; and as he approached, he had the feeling that he'd finally found the right room.
Again he stopped at the doorway; was what he doing right? Was finding the voice in his dreams going to lead to something he'd later regret? Then again, he'd considered that the whole thing could possibly be an elaborate trap on someone's part; but if that were the case why hadn't anything happened by now?
Shaking off such thoughts he entered pulling the door open and stepping inside without another thought. The Cryo-capsule of this room was whole, undamaged and he was slightly relieved to see that the room itself appeared to be untouched as well. He knew instinctively that this was the room in which the voice had called him. With a slight air of caution, he approached the capsule.
His hand slid across the smooth glass, nails scraping ever so slightly across the thick ice as he circled the capsule, the light beneath the cryo- capsule illuminated the dismal long forgotten room; wiping away condensation and frost, the chill of the room making him shiver ever so slightly, or was it really the cold that made him shiver? Perhaps it was the apprehension he felt; as if he was about to embark on something unknown, and very possibly dangerous by himself.
Was what was inside responsible for the dreams; the faint whispers in the back of his mind, the pleas for help? Could what was inside have shown him just how to get here? The visions of the dark hallways of the long abandoned cryo-lab, the only lights on in the building were so far below ground that no one saw them. His heart thudded loudly, hollowly inside his chest, as he scraped away more of the ice that had built up over the glass casing, his nails gouging out deep chunks, yet it seemed like that the ice was as thick as his hand was wide. He eventually gave up and used his own ki to melt away the ice that had built up over time; with each second the ice melted, a shape began to take form.
As the last bit of ice melted away, Piccolo gave a strangled cry and fell backwards, knocking over a tray and stand, scattering instruments covered in rust and dust; back hitting the wall with a dull thud that sent clouds of dust billowing up around him; his eyes wide and horrified at the face that stared up at him through the glass; asleep in seeming eternity.
Piccolo slid down the wall, slowly coming to a stop on his butt, knees tucked up to his chest, eyes locked on the capsule before him. A million thoughts ran through his head yet not a single one was coherent enough for even him to understand.
Gods, dear gods above it can't be. it's impossible for it to be. Calm down, I have to calm down, otherwise I'm going to start raving like a lunatic. There has to be a reasonable explanation for all this. A perfectly, reasonable and sane reason for what I saw.
Shakily getting to his feet, knees feeling weak and unsteady, he pushed aside medical equipment and approached the capsule once more, almost unwillingly peering down into the serene face before him, palms resting on the icy glass, breaths puffing out into the cold air.
It was beautiful. The creature before him was surely Namekkian in every aspect; the sculpted head, the slender antennae, the finely carved ears, brow ridges, high set cheekbones, and the wide almond shaped eyes divided by a small but well defined nose. It was a statue of perfection, and it made Piccolo wonder if he was looking at some resin copy of a namek of a bygone time. It was also very much female.
The fog around the capsule cleared, the ice melted away more rapidly now, more of the creatures body revealed. First a thin neck, slender shoulders covered in softer pink patches, the ice over the chest area slide off revealing a pair of bare breasts, both covered in the pinkish skin in a heart shaped sort of way, the light skin trailing down to the V shape of her crotch and ending there. The rest of her body was covered in the same familiar emerald colored skin, only it looked pale, as if bleached to a light jade color.
Piccolo glanced around for a way to turn the cryo-capsule off. It seemed to be self supporting, but he didn't see how. Then he caught the Capsule Corp. logo on the side of it and realized that Dr. Briefs, the creator of capsule technology, would have made it self supporting. Easier for travel and convenient for those working in the field of anthropology, and in the field of medicine, in case they had to work on someone right there in the trauma zone. It would also explain why Bulma had had some knowledge of the labs. Piccolo instead focused on finding a way to open the glass cover, checking for hinges or a handle. After several moments of frustration he snarled and simply blasted off the top of the glass casing, shattering the thick stuff all over.
She didn't stir from her slumber as he brushed away bits of glass and Piccolo wondered if she wasn't dead. But that wasn't possible. He could sense a faint amount of ki emanating from her nearly frozen body; and as he lifted her out of the coffin like bed, he could sense her body starting to limber up as she grew warmer. Besides, if she had been dead, why would she have gone through the effort of summoning him here just to retrieve a corpse?
Piccolo didn't stop to think about these things for very long, he had an impending sense of danger, and knew that if he didn't get out of there soon, something was bound to happen, and if that was the case, he'd much rather fight outside than in the hallways of a dead building. Looking down at the nude, prone body of this supposed namek, he pulled off his weighted cape, and tore the shoulder armor away from the main part of the cape and wrapped her up inside of it; not much protection, but it'd serve its purpose at least until he got home.
Glancing down at the creature again, he felt something odd and disturbing deep down in his gut; shaking his head he ran out the door and down the hallway until he came to the elevator and launched up into it, and back into the lobby. He kicked open the door and flew out into the night with his bundle to his chest.
Now the question remained was; who was she, how'd she get here, and just what exactly was she, if she wasn't a namek? Piccolo growled softly and headed up to the Lookout, careful to mask his presence from Dende and Popo, he didn't want to answer anymore questions than he had answered already the day before.
Landing on the edge of the large Lookout, Piccolo made sure the coast was clear; in a way he felt like he was sneaking someone into his rooms for a night of- glancing down at the bundle in his arms, he shoved the thought out of his head as soon as it conjured, flushing at the thought.
He entered his own room and laid her on the bed, unbundling the package and stared down at her.
Now what? Piccolo wondered as he lifted her legs up and pulled the blankets down and then back up over her shoulders. She had made no signs of stirring, nor had she indicated that she'd wake any time soon. Piccolo pulled up a chair and sat by the bed, using the back of his hand to check her body temperature. He was pleased to feel that she was warming up, and was at least gaining some bit of color back to her skin. He noticed that her chest rose and fell slowly and rhythmically, and soon she began to toss a bit, her mouth working to speak, to cry out something but her voice refusing to work.
Here eyes snapped open and Piccolo was stunned to see that the irises were a sapphire blue, the color of the deepest ocean. They were nothing like he'd ever seen on a namek, nor on anyone else. She distracted him from her eyes however when she lashed out with a hand and batted at him in pure fear, desperate to escape or at least get him away from her.
She sprang from the bed, the sheets tangling around her waist and promptly fell flat on her face; Piccolo winced at the sound of body hitting the floor and moved to help her up.
"Hey, calm down, you're safe. My name is," Piccolo doubled over in pain as a fist connected with his throat forcing the wind pipe to close off for a moment. He gagged and chocked watching the woman tear the sheets with a primal ferocity that nearly scared the other Namek.
She bolted for the door and just before she was about to fling it open, Piccolo managed to call out something in Namekkian. ~Allet!~
She stopped, her hands fluttering slightly as they poised over the door handle, turning to face him with a look of pure fear. Her chest heaved, shoulders shaking as she stared at him in disbelief. ~Allet?~
Piccolo nodded, remaining where he was at, even going so far as to sit on the bed, trying to show that he meant her no harm, nor did he have any intentions of chasing her down. "That means stop. right? I never learned much Namekkian.." He trailed off uncertainly.
She blinked a couple times and frowned; obviously they weren't communicating well. Piccolo didn't know enough of the Namekkian language to get by, and it was apparent she didn't know enough common to understand him.
She tilted her head at him and licked her lips, purple tongue darting out just long enough to moisten her lips, then disappeared just as quickly. Clearing her throat she started to speak, failed and started again, in halting common. "Kihann, name is. Yes." She nodded once certain that her words were correct before continuing. "Called, mind to yours; called hard as could I, long dark time, called. Only your mind heard, no one came to my calls any time other."
Brow ridges creased, Piccolo followed the conversation as best as he could. He motioned to the bed noticing that she was using the door to hold her up. "Come sit down, you've just been through one hell of an ordeal and I'm sure you're still pretty weak. Besides there's no where for you to run off to anyways, you're up on a place called the Lookout, and that's one hell of a jump for someone. I can pretty much bet you wouldn't survive the fall. My name is Piccolo, Kihann."
He felt awkward, somewhat silly and juvenile in how he was handling the situation, but what else was he supposed to do? He'd never been faced with... This before, and he couldn't exactly treat her like he treated everyone else. Exhaling slowly, not having realized he was holding his breath, he rubbed his face. "I'm going to be honest Kihann, this isn't easy for me, and these next few days are going to be far more difficult for you. Especially if you're who I think you are, and from where I think you're from. Once you get a little better grasp of the common language, we'll talk a bit more, but for now you've got to get back into bed and rest. I'll bring up some water for you and some clothes, you can't go out looking like that, Dende's going to have a heart attack as it is when I tell him about you. Do you have any questions?"
Kihann blinked slowly, of course she had questions, she wanted to ask him to repeat everything he'd said, wanted to ask how long she'd been asleep, wanted to ask about the lab he'd gotten her out of, and a million other things. But she couldn't not right now, he was right in the fact that she was exhausted, scared and very thirsty. Kihann sighed softly and tottered her way to the bed, half way there before her legs gave out; she started to cry out in anticipation of a fall, but two strong arms encircled around her tightly and held her for a moment. She stiffened at the feeling of being restrained and twisted so suddenly that he let her go, allowing Kihann to slash at his face with extended claws. Piccolo jerked back, narrowing avoiding having his eyes gouged out.
"Hey! Dammit I'm trying to help here!" Piccolo let her fall onto the bed and scowled deeply. "Get some rest, we'll talk more tomorrow."
With that he turned and exited leaving her alone. Kihann sat on the bed, and stared at the door, heart hammering in her chest heavily, making her feel queasy and ill. He was so strange to her, not smelling like any namek that she'd recall smelling before, he had an air of.. Nothingness about him, and that bothered her. She didn't' like being around things she couldn't scent, but he'd helped her. Curling up in the blankets, piling them around her so that they nearly buried her alive, she soon dozed, unsettled by all that had transpired.
Piccolo stood on top of the Lookout palace and extended his other senses, keeping a mental eye on her until she fell asleep. Once he'd sensed she'd fallen asleep, he sighed. It was time to tell Dende.
He looked around at the building; it still stood tall, and whole; the first floor had the official business look to it, large smoked glass windows gleamed dully in the night light, polished to where it reflected out, so that a person approaching couldn't see inside. Not that it bothered Piccolo; even if there were people inside he could have easily gotten past them, and to his goal. The next three or so levels of the building was interspersed with windows here and there, some too narrow to provide any decent outside lighting, and he wondered if those windows were meant to keep those inside, curious about the outside world, maybe a world they weren't allowed to go out into.
Piccolo had been mildly curious about the building, and reluctantly had gone to Bulma and asked about Cyscal Gene Labs, and what purpose they had served during it's hey day of genetic splicing and experiments. Bulma had told him that the place had been military contracted, that they had performed experiments in humans and animals alike, trying to find the perfect combination that would allow the military to have their super human army. There had also been rumors that the military had found a couple of alien life forms as well, and had quickly hidden them there in the labs, supposedly in the basements; but neither Bulma nor her father could confirm it, nor had they wanted to. Both had believed that the labs were an abomination to science and to the military.
So Piccolo had gotten the address from Bulma and without a word to anyone else, he'd flown halfway across the country in search of the voice that had spoken to him in his dreams, in the strange language he knew, yet didn't know. The voice that had cried for help, that they were trapped and couldn't get out; but what did it mean? Was there some alien creature inside that had sought out another akin to it, trapped and forgotten?
Well, he was about to find out. Popping the door open with a simple flex of ki, he stepped inside the dark reception area. It reeked of dust, mold and medicine, along with a strong hint of decaying things. Things abandoned, forgotten or simply tossed aside. Wrinkling his nose at the smell of decay he continued his way inside, ignoring the dead potted plants, the plastic covered couches and chairs in the waiting room.
Hnn, waiting room, waiting for what. What did they expect people to do? Come in and volunteer to be genetically altered? Somehow I doubt that they had very many people knocking on their doors to become a potential corpse in the name of science. Piccolo mused silently.
He stopped at the reception desk, looking for something that would indicate what was on each floor. After a few moments of tossing aside useless papers, order forms, and consent signature forms, he came across the key map and studied it in the dimmed emergency lighting, ignoring the fact that he'd just made a mess out of the reception area. It wasn't like anyone was going to show up soon and scold him for tossing aside papers that had been turned into rats' nests and homes for spiders.
First floor held nothing but the typical office lay out, reception desk, waiting room, and paper pushers offices, the grunts who did all the leg work. Second floor was mostly again offices and a few unmarked rooms, to which he assumed, were either bathrooms or cleaning supplies closets, since they seemed to indicate on the map to be too small to serve any other purpose than that. Third floor held some promise, the rooms were more laid out in a formal row, each one carefully marked with a room number, but hardly any of them indicated what they were for. Fourth floor was a complete blank; it looked like it was just one large storage area divided into five or six different rooms.
Turning the key map over, he studied two smaller drawn diagrams that divided the page; one said SL: 1, the other SL: 2. Absently tucking the map into his belt sash, he headed for the elevators, he knew there was no way that they were still operational, but he could if needed to force the doors open and punch a hole through either the ceiling or floor allowing him to squeeze through.
Well, if there's one thing I've learned while being forced to sit and watch horror movies and video games with Goku and Gohan when he was a kid, was that there were always the following three things in a building like this. Sub-basements, blood splattered walls, and monsters. The only variation in this little scenario is that I'm the monster hunting- whatever.
Whoever called me, said that it was dark, cold, very cold and quiet. That would probably indicate that they're in a basement somewhere; since who ever came through here when they closed down, made sure the place was cleaned and covered before locking the doors. Chances are, they didn't even know of any possible sub-levels. The third floors had windows, fourth floor did as well, but higher set and thin, like the kind of windows you'd find in a prison.
Forcing the elevator doors open, he was pleased to see that the shaft was virtually empty going downward; looking up, he noted that the carriages had been stopped on the top floor, and hung there eternally waiting for some one to come and use them again.
Jumping down, he extended his other senses, the senses he used to detect ki, and sometimes thought patterns, looking for the mind of the voice that had called to him so desperately three days ago. Passing the regular basement level, he stopped at the first sub-basement and pried the doors open, landing on the tiled floor. It was virtually pitch black, but his sensitive eyes picked out shapes. He summoned up a ki sphere, the energy lit the area around him and it helped with figuring out which direction to go.
Gazing at his surroundings Piccolo had the feeling of being trapped for a moment; he snorted and shook off the feeling, it was a ridiculous feeling and thought; he could easily destroy this building with hardly a thought, why should he feel trapped?
Then it occurred to him, that perhaps it wasn't he who was feeling trapped, but whatever that had called him here. Pressing on he ignored the creeping darkness around him, the light of his ki making it look as if a halo of light followed him, keeping the inky blackness at bay, keeping it from consuming him and swallowing him whole.
Stop that! Piccolo snarled to himself and to whatever it was that called him. Stop acting like a child, and you, whoever you are stop putting these emotions into my head!
Amazingly enough the feelings went away, and he was able to resume his search without feeling anything else other than what he wanted to feel, and that suited him fine, it at least let him focus on where he was going, and kept him from getting lost in the labyrinth of hallways.
Over there, to his right was light creeping out from under a door. It was the only light on in this level and he seemed to just know that it was the place he needed to be. Piccolo stepped around an apparently hastily discarded gurney, distinguishing the ki light. He paused a moment, not sure if he was ready to face what was inside. IF there was anything inside to face, and if whatever was in there actually in there and alive. Steeling himself he pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The room was destroyed, it looked like a tornado had swept through tossing everything aside after breaking it; a cryo-capsule stood in the center of the room like a sentinel to the destruction, or perhaps responsible for it. The light that illuminated the room came from the capsule itself, and he approached cautiously- something didn't feel quite right. Glass crunched loudly under his feet in the silence and it again set him on edge. He got the distinct feeling of hatred, the emotion almost as thick as the dust that covered the room; and it set him on edge, making him glance at the shadows that lurked in the corner. He half expected something to come lunging out at him as he approached the capsule, but of course nothing did.
The glass was cracked, pieces of it had fallen out and as Piccolo peered into the darkened capsule he choked and gagged as the stench hit him, the thing inside was anything but human and it had been dead for some time. It grinned in its death grin, the hands obviously broken from its attempts to escape; the eyes bulged out of their sockets in a mummified stare of horror. How long has this thing been here? Piccolo wondered as he stepped back and studied the creature more fully.
It had an odd appearance, at least the husk did, and it eerily reminded him of Cell in one of his weaker forms; it looked as if the body had been nothing more than a host, the chest split open, the skin and bone around the open area exposed and splintered, as if something had exploded from its chest and had taken most of the internal organs with it. If the thing had internal organs to begin with; suppressing another shudder he quickly exited the room, into the hallway and down off to his left, where he noticed another light underneath a doorway, this one a bit more brighter than the last room; and as he approached, he had the feeling that he'd finally found the right room.
Again he stopped at the doorway; was what he doing right? Was finding the voice in his dreams going to lead to something he'd later regret? Then again, he'd considered that the whole thing could possibly be an elaborate trap on someone's part; but if that were the case why hadn't anything happened by now?
Shaking off such thoughts he entered pulling the door open and stepping inside without another thought. The Cryo-capsule of this room was whole, undamaged and he was slightly relieved to see that the room itself appeared to be untouched as well. He knew instinctively that this was the room in which the voice had called him. With a slight air of caution, he approached the capsule.
His hand slid across the smooth glass, nails scraping ever so slightly across the thick ice as he circled the capsule, the light beneath the cryo- capsule illuminated the dismal long forgotten room; wiping away condensation and frost, the chill of the room making him shiver ever so slightly, or was it really the cold that made him shiver? Perhaps it was the apprehension he felt; as if he was about to embark on something unknown, and very possibly dangerous by himself.
Was what was inside responsible for the dreams; the faint whispers in the back of his mind, the pleas for help? Could what was inside have shown him just how to get here? The visions of the dark hallways of the long abandoned cryo-lab, the only lights on in the building were so far below ground that no one saw them. His heart thudded loudly, hollowly inside his chest, as he scraped away more of the ice that had built up over the glass casing, his nails gouging out deep chunks, yet it seemed like that the ice was as thick as his hand was wide. He eventually gave up and used his own ki to melt away the ice that had built up over time; with each second the ice melted, a shape began to take form.
As the last bit of ice melted away, Piccolo gave a strangled cry and fell backwards, knocking over a tray and stand, scattering instruments covered in rust and dust; back hitting the wall with a dull thud that sent clouds of dust billowing up around him; his eyes wide and horrified at the face that stared up at him through the glass; asleep in seeming eternity.
Piccolo slid down the wall, slowly coming to a stop on his butt, knees tucked up to his chest, eyes locked on the capsule before him. A million thoughts ran through his head yet not a single one was coherent enough for even him to understand.
Gods, dear gods above it can't be. it's impossible for it to be. Calm down, I have to calm down, otherwise I'm going to start raving like a lunatic. There has to be a reasonable explanation for all this. A perfectly, reasonable and sane reason for what I saw.
Shakily getting to his feet, knees feeling weak and unsteady, he pushed aside medical equipment and approached the capsule once more, almost unwillingly peering down into the serene face before him, palms resting on the icy glass, breaths puffing out into the cold air.
It was beautiful. The creature before him was surely Namekkian in every aspect; the sculpted head, the slender antennae, the finely carved ears, brow ridges, high set cheekbones, and the wide almond shaped eyes divided by a small but well defined nose. It was a statue of perfection, and it made Piccolo wonder if he was looking at some resin copy of a namek of a bygone time. It was also very much female.
The fog around the capsule cleared, the ice melted away more rapidly now, more of the creatures body revealed. First a thin neck, slender shoulders covered in softer pink patches, the ice over the chest area slide off revealing a pair of bare breasts, both covered in the pinkish skin in a heart shaped sort of way, the light skin trailing down to the V shape of her crotch and ending there. The rest of her body was covered in the same familiar emerald colored skin, only it looked pale, as if bleached to a light jade color.
Piccolo glanced around for a way to turn the cryo-capsule off. It seemed to be self supporting, but he didn't see how. Then he caught the Capsule Corp. logo on the side of it and realized that Dr. Briefs, the creator of capsule technology, would have made it self supporting. Easier for travel and convenient for those working in the field of anthropology, and in the field of medicine, in case they had to work on someone right there in the trauma zone. It would also explain why Bulma had had some knowledge of the labs. Piccolo instead focused on finding a way to open the glass cover, checking for hinges or a handle. After several moments of frustration he snarled and simply blasted off the top of the glass casing, shattering the thick stuff all over.
She didn't stir from her slumber as he brushed away bits of glass and Piccolo wondered if she wasn't dead. But that wasn't possible. He could sense a faint amount of ki emanating from her nearly frozen body; and as he lifted her out of the coffin like bed, he could sense her body starting to limber up as she grew warmer. Besides, if she had been dead, why would she have gone through the effort of summoning him here just to retrieve a corpse?
Piccolo didn't stop to think about these things for very long, he had an impending sense of danger, and knew that if he didn't get out of there soon, something was bound to happen, and if that was the case, he'd much rather fight outside than in the hallways of a dead building. Looking down at the nude, prone body of this supposed namek, he pulled off his weighted cape, and tore the shoulder armor away from the main part of the cape and wrapped her up inside of it; not much protection, but it'd serve its purpose at least until he got home.
Glancing down at the creature again, he felt something odd and disturbing deep down in his gut; shaking his head he ran out the door and down the hallway until he came to the elevator and launched up into it, and back into the lobby. He kicked open the door and flew out into the night with his bundle to his chest.
Now the question remained was; who was she, how'd she get here, and just what exactly was she, if she wasn't a namek? Piccolo growled softly and headed up to the Lookout, careful to mask his presence from Dende and Popo, he didn't want to answer anymore questions than he had answered already the day before.
Landing on the edge of the large Lookout, Piccolo made sure the coast was clear; in a way he felt like he was sneaking someone into his rooms for a night of- glancing down at the bundle in his arms, he shoved the thought out of his head as soon as it conjured, flushing at the thought.
He entered his own room and laid her on the bed, unbundling the package and stared down at her.
Now what? Piccolo wondered as he lifted her legs up and pulled the blankets down and then back up over her shoulders. She had made no signs of stirring, nor had she indicated that she'd wake any time soon. Piccolo pulled up a chair and sat by the bed, using the back of his hand to check her body temperature. He was pleased to feel that she was warming up, and was at least gaining some bit of color back to her skin. He noticed that her chest rose and fell slowly and rhythmically, and soon she began to toss a bit, her mouth working to speak, to cry out something but her voice refusing to work.
Here eyes snapped open and Piccolo was stunned to see that the irises were a sapphire blue, the color of the deepest ocean. They were nothing like he'd ever seen on a namek, nor on anyone else. She distracted him from her eyes however when she lashed out with a hand and batted at him in pure fear, desperate to escape or at least get him away from her.
She sprang from the bed, the sheets tangling around her waist and promptly fell flat on her face; Piccolo winced at the sound of body hitting the floor and moved to help her up.
"Hey, calm down, you're safe. My name is," Piccolo doubled over in pain as a fist connected with his throat forcing the wind pipe to close off for a moment. He gagged and chocked watching the woman tear the sheets with a primal ferocity that nearly scared the other Namek.
She bolted for the door and just before she was about to fling it open, Piccolo managed to call out something in Namekkian. ~Allet!~
She stopped, her hands fluttering slightly as they poised over the door handle, turning to face him with a look of pure fear. Her chest heaved, shoulders shaking as she stared at him in disbelief. ~Allet?~
Piccolo nodded, remaining where he was at, even going so far as to sit on the bed, trying to show that he meant her no harm, nor did he have any intentions of chasing her down. "That means stop. right? I never learned much Namekkian.." He trailed off uncertainly.
She blinked a couple times and frowned; obviously they weren't communicating well. Piccolo didn't know enough of the Namekkian language to get by, and it was apparent she didn't know enough common to understand him.
She tilted her head at him and licked her lips, purple tongue darting out just long enough to moisten her lips, then disappeared just as quickly. Clearing her throat she started to speak, failed and started again, in halting common. "Kihann, name is. Yes." She nodded once certain that her words were correct before continuing. "Called, mind to yours; called hard as could I, long dark time, called. Only your mind heard, no one came to my calls any time other."
Brow ridges creased, Piccolo followed the conversation as best as he could. He motioned to the bed noticing that she was using the door to hold her up. "Come sit down, you've just been through one hell of an ordeal and I'm sure you're still pretty weak. Besides there's no where for you to run off to anyways, you're up on a place called the Lookout, and that's one hell of a jump for someone. I can pretty much bet you wouldn't survive the fall. My name is Piccolo, Kihann."
He felt awkward, somewhat silly and juvenile in how he was handling the situation, but what else was he supposed to do? He'd never been faced with... This before, and he couldn't exactly treat her like he treated everyone else. Exhaling slowly, not having realized he was holding his breath, he rubbed his face. "I'm going to be honest Kihann, this isn't easy for me, and these next few days are going to be far more difficult for you. Especially if you're who I think you are, and from where I think you're from. Once you get a little better grasp of the common language, we'll talk a bit more, but for now you've got to get back into bed and rest. I'll bring up some water for you and some clothes, you can't go out looking like that, Dende's going to have a heart attack as it is when I tell him about you. Do you have any questions?"
Kihann blinked slowly, of course she had questions, she wanted to ask him to repeat everything he'd said, wanted to ask how long she'd been asleep, wanted to ask about the lab he'd gotten her out of, and a million other things. But she couldn't not right now, he was right in the fact that she was exhausted, scared and very thirsty. Kihann sighed softly and tottered her way to the bed, half way there before her legs gave out; she started to cry out in anticipation of a fall, but two strong arms encircled around her tightly and held her for a moment. She stiffened at the feeling of being restrained and twisted so suddenly that he let her go, allowing Kihann to slash at his face with extended claws. Piccolo jerked back, narrowing avoiding having his eyes gouged out.
"Hey! Dammit I'm trying to help here!" Piccolo let her fall onto the bed and scowled deeply. "Get some rest, we'll talk more tomorrow."
With that he turned and exited leaving her alone. Kihann sat on the bed, and stared at the door, heart hammering in her chest heavily, making her feel queasy and ill. He was so strange to her, not smelling like any namek that she'd recall smelling before, he had an air of.. Nothingness about him, and that bothered her. She didn't' like being around things she couldn't scent, but he'd helped her. Curling up in the blankets, piling them around her so that they nearly buried her alive, she soon dozed, unsettled by all that had transpired.
Piccolo stood on top of the Lookout palace and extended his other senses, keeping a mental eye on her until she fell asleep. Once he'd sensed she'd fallen asleep, he sighed. It was time to tell Dende.