Disclaimer: In chapter one. Woo.
I've finished a little page for you kids that are confused as sin about who the bloody Hell these OCs are. I'll be posting pictures of the characters on there, too. I'm drawing Jin right now. Here's the URL:
piccylo. 8m. com/gvdoc. htm
(take out the spaces to use it)
In other news, I watched Farenheit 9/11. Whatever political views might be had around here, I must say that I liked it XD.
Bush: -looks around like he's lost-
Moore: Look! A goat!
Bush: Ooo! It must have ties with Iraq!
Anyway, enough of this. Time for fiction.
"Okay, dear. Tomorrow then. Yes, I love to you, too," she made a few kissing noises to the receiver before setting it down on the hook. Unlike Shuran, Keshou Uwaki's residence was legally hers. However, the terms of which she obtained them were no less scandalous. She was the harbored mistress of the local billionaire known as Daijin Fugeru, a married man with two kids. It's not uncommon for men and women to loose interest in their marriages after so many years, but when it comes down to it, holding a courtesan in her own lavish suite for an affair was much safer than going to the street for some average tart. Ergo, Uwaki had a purpose.
She stretched out across her chaise lounge. "Sooo bored..." she said after she had her fill with the television. "I wish that there was more to do... this town just isn't as fun as it used to be." Staring at the ceiling, she now amused herself a bit with the turning fan and the moving shadows that it cast. Her mind came upon all of the parties that she had when she was younger (when she wasn't suffering from unemployment), and, even more memorable, the men with which she "associated". Of couse, she was thinking more of those men who could pass as magazine models and soap opera actors. Every man that she wanted, she had. At least, all except one.
Before she could let her mind dwell too long on "the one that got away", she heard the buzzer. Uwaki rose and opened the door.
"Message for you, ma'am," said a young lad with a ruddy complexion and round glasses. He passed a small, unmarked envelope into her hands.
She looked at it with her head tilted. "Rather late for mail. Who is it from?"
"Not sure. It just appeared on the front desk with a little post-it that had your room number on it."
"Strange..." She inspected both sides of the note. "Well, they probably have a reason to not say who they are, ne? You are dismissed."
The boy bowed his leave. Uwaki returned to her sofa before she slid her finger under the little flap and pushed it free. She pulled out a paper unfolded it. "Ma?"
The only thing on the square sheet was the kanji symbol for "demon", encircled by a four-peaked, black aureole.
"It wasn't entirely necessary for you to kill those two girls," Piccolo Daimaou commented as he followed his son, who was abound the rooftops, "but I guess it's for the best in the long run. Nothing wrong with getting a little bonus, I always say."
"You always say a lot of things, Father. What did you do to me earlier?"
The old Namek only hung lazily by Piccolo as he jumped from building to building. "Hmm... What do you mean?"
"When you... passed into my body like that. It changed my appearance, didn't it?"
Daimaou chuckled. "Indeed, it did change your guise a bit."
"To what? And why?"
"You didn't notice? Well, it's not quite my job to remind you of it at this point. Really, you should remember without it being handed to you."
Piccolo made a scowl as he landed on a concrete flat. "You're talking in riddles, Father."
"It appears that way, doesn't it?"
The Son household sat in darkness, hidden in the black forest of Mt. Paozu. The interminable stillness and silence that ordained the space seemed to dissipate in a great crash and clamor. Two figures struggled in the black air to stand and reach a switch without knocking into everything. Finally, the room lit up with electricity and there stood Gohan and Goku amidst a mess of turned over furniture.
"Otousan?" Gohan lowered his hand from the switch as Goku rubbed his eyes from the sudden change of atmosphere. "Why are you up?"
Goku made one of his inane laughes. "I was going to ask the same thing!" His manner turned detectably more somber. "To tell you the truth, I'm having a hard time sleeping. Something just doesn't seem right in the air..."
Gohan sat down for a minute. "I know what you mean. It's the same with me. I thought that I just felt that way because of how strangely Piccolo-san was acting today."
Goku nodded. "Maybe he could tell, too?"
"Maybe. Actually, I think that he knows what it is, but he didn't want to talk about it."
"Really?" Son bowed his head in thought. "Hmm... what did he say?"
Gohan shook his head. "Nothing that really made any sense. Most of it was along the lines of 'Go away'."
"Well... I guess it's nothing to worry about."
"Huh?"
"I know, I don't think it's that easy either, but if something was wrong, I think Piccolo would tell us what it was."
"..I suppose that you're right."
"Now-" Goku went in the direction of the kitchen. "How about a midnight snack."
"Sounds good!"
Though the city was always alive, people did sleep at night in North Capital. Keshou Taifu didn't take long to fall onto her bed and surrender to slumber. Jokki Nama had dosed off over the paperwork that he wanted to get finished before he closed the bar (thankfully, his employees closed for him and left him with the keys). Mari Hein, like any good wife, was by her husband's side in the bed that they shared. Since such a live city was prone to crime, the police sirens' blaring as they went past towards the bleeding ragdoll of a man didn't wake them. Of course, one could say that Rushu Shuran also remained asleep:
Even though the noise was all for him, he certainly was no longer among the awake.
Fugeru was a bit perplexed when Uwaki ran to him so quickly when he entered the apartment. She immediately took shelter in his $3 grand, double- breasted jacket, finding comfort in the musty smell from the cigar tobacco that had percolated into the cloth. "What is with you, my dear?"
She shivered and stifled the urge to cry, then brought him to a table and took the letter from it to him. "I just got that a half an hour ago. You recognize it, don't you?"
He took out the paper and stared at the symbol. "Ma? That's awkward..."
"Do you remember? I know, it was almost 20 years ago, but I'm sure you didn't forget about Piccolo Daimaou."
"Oh yes... He had this on his shirt, didn't he? Well, I'm sure that it doesn't mean anything." He placed it back in the envelope. "Probably just some stupid kid, playing around." The letter went in the wastebasket. "Nothing to worry about, my dear Uwa-chan. I doubt Piccolo Daimaou has come back, and even if he did, I don't see why he would bother you."
Uwaki looked down to the floor. "I wasn't thinking that. I thought that it might be some gang man that took that symbol and is planning to blackmail us."
Fugeru's face turned serious. "That would pose a problem."
"What will you do?"
The man took a smug grin on his face. "Whatever it takes, my dear. Whatever it takes."
Daijin= Millionaire (it's not a name; its a description) Fugeru is a composite of several words (having to do with money). Jokki= beer mug. Since Mari and her husband are not Japanese, surname comes last. Hein is Vietnamese, and means "meek and gentle".
Note: When Uwaki said "almost 20", it was actually 25 years. Another put down towards her stupidity (or vainity, depending on how you look at it).
I've finished a little page for you kids that are confused as sin about who the bloody Hell these OCs are. I'll be posting pictures of the characters on there, too. I'm drawing Jin right now. Here's the URL:
piccylo. 8m. com/gvdoc. htm
(take out the spaces to use it)
In other news, I watched Farenheit 9/11. Whatever political views might be had around here, I must say that I liked it XD.
Bush: -looks around like he's lost-
Moore: Look! A goat!
Bush: Ooo! It must have ties with Iraq!
Anyway, enough of this. Time for fiction.
"Okay, dear. Tomorrow then. Yes, I love to you, too," she made a few kissing noises to the receiver before setting it down on the hook. Unlike Shuran, Keshou Uwaki's residence was legally hers. However, the terms of which she obtained them were no less scandalous. She was the harbored mistress of the local billionaire known as Daijin Fugeru, a married man with two kids. It's not uncommon for men and women to loose interest in their marriages after so many years, but when it comes down to it, holding a courtesan in her own lavish suite for an affair was much safer than going to the street for some average tart. Ergo, Uwaki had a purpose.
She stretched out across her chaise lounge. "Sooo bored..." she said after she had her fill with the television. "I wish that there was more to do... this town just isn't as fun as it used to be." Staring at the ceiling, she now amused herself a bit with the turning fan and the moving shadows that it cast. Her mind came upon all of the parties that she had when she was younger (when she wasn't suffering from unemployment), and, even more memorable, the men with which she "associated". Of couse, she was thinking more of those men who could pass as magazine models and soap opera actors. Every man that she wanted, she had. At least, all except one.
Before she could let her mind dwell too long on "the one that got away", she heard the buzzer. Uwaki rose and opened the door.
"Message for you, ma'am," said a young lad with a ruddy complexion and round glasses. He passed a small, unmarked envelope into her hands.
She looked at it with her head tilted. "Rather late for mail. Who is it from?"
"Not sure. It just appeared on the front desk with a little post-it that had your room number on it."
"Strange..." She inspected both sides of the note. "Well, they probably have a reason to not say who they are, ne? You are dismissed."
The boy bowed his leave. Uwaki returned to her sofa before she slid her finger under the little flap and pushed it free. She pulled out a paper unfolded it. "Ma?"
The only thing on the square sheet was the kanji symbol for "demon", encircled by a four-peaked, black aureole.
"It wasn't entirely necessary for you to kill those two girls," Piccolo Daimaou commented as he followed his son, who was abound the rooftops, "but I guess it's for the best in the long run. Nothing wrong with getting a little bonus, I always say."
"You always say a lot of things, Father. What did you do to me earlier?"
The old Namek only hung lazily by Piccolo as he jumped from building to building. "Hmm... What do you mean?"
"When you... passed into my body like that. It changed my appearance, didn't it?"
Daimaou chuckled. "Indeed, it did change your guise a bit."
"To what? And why?"
"You didn't notice? Well, it's not quite my job to remind you of it at this point. Really, you should remember without it being handed to you."
Piccolo made a scowl as he landed on a concrete flat. "You're talking in riddles, Father."
"It appears that way, doesn't it?"
The Son household sat in darkness, hidden in the black forest of Mt. Paozu. The interminable stillness and silence that ordained the space seemed to dissipate in a great crash and clamor. Two figures struggled in the black air to stand and reach a switch without knocking into everything. Finally, the room lit up with electricity and there stood Gohan and Goku amidst a mess of turned over furniture.
"Otousan?" Gohan lowered his hand from the switch as Goku rubbed his eyes from the sudden change of atmosphere. "Why are you up?"
Goku made one of his inane laughes. "I was going to ask the same thing!" His manner turned detectably more somber. "To tell you the truth, I'm having a hard time sleeping. Something just doesn't seem right in the air..."
Gohan sat down for a minute. "I know what you mean. It's the same with me. I thought that I just felt that way because of how strangely Piccolo-san was acting today."
Goku nodded. "Maybe he could tell, too?"
"Maybe. Actually, I think that he knows what it is, but he didn't want to talk about it."
"Really?" Son bowed his head in thought. "Hmm... what did he say?"
Gohan shook his head. "Nothing that really made any sense. Most of it was along the lines of 'Go away'."
"Well... I guess it's nothing to worry about."
"Huh?"
"I know, I don't think it's that easy either, but if something was wrong, I think Piccolo would tell us what it was."
"..I suppose that you're right."
"Now-" Goku went in the direction of the kitchen. "How about a midnight snack."
"Sounds good!"
Though the city was always alive, people did sleep at night in North Capital. Keshou Taifu didn't take long to fall onto her bed and surrender to slumber. Jokki Nama had dosed off over the paperwork that he wanted to get finished before he closed the bar (thankfully, his employees closed for him and left him with the keys). Mari Hein, like any good wife, was by her husband's side in the bed that they shared. Since such a live city was prone to crime, the police sirens' blaring as they went past towards the bleeding ragdoll of a man didn't wake them. Of course, one could say that Rushu Shuran also remained asleep:
Even though the noise was all for him, he certainly was no longer among the awake.
Fugeru was a bit perplexed when Uwaki ran to him so quickly when he entered the apartment. She immediately took shelter in his $3 grand, double- breasted jacket, finding comfort in the musty smell from the cigar tobacco that had percolated into the cloth. "What is with you, my dear?"
She shivered and stifled the urge to cry, then brought him to a table and took the letter from it to him. "I just got that a half an hour ago. You recognize it, don't you?"
He took out the paper and stared at the symbol. "Ma? That's awkward..."
"Do you remember? I know, it was almost 20 years ago, but I'm sure you didn't forget about Piccolo Daimaou."
"Oh yes... He had this on his shirt, didn't he? Well, I'm sure that it doesn't mean anything." He placed it back in the envelope. "Probably just some stupid kid, playing around." The letter went in the wastebasket. "Nothing to worry about, my dear Uwa-chan. I doubt Piccolo Daimaou has come back, and even if he did, I don't see why he would bother you."
Uwaki looked down to the floor. "I wasn't thinking that. I thought that it might be some gang man that took that symbol and is planning to blackmail us."
Fugeru's face turned serious. "That would pose a problem."
"What will you do?"
The man took a smug grin on his face. "Whatever it takes, my dear. Whatever it takes."
Daijin= Millionaire (it's not a name; its a description) Fugeru is a composite of several words (having to do with money). Jokki= beer mug. Since Mari and her husband are not Japanese, surname comes last. Hein is Vietnamese, and means "meek and gentle".
Note: When Uwaki said "almost 20", it was actually 25 years. Another put down towards her stupidity (or vainity, depending on how you look at it).
