One thing to do in the city. That is all Vegeta cares about. The rest of the day he has stupidly resigned himself over to what Ryoko and Ayeka wish to do in their first venture into a human settlement. He would much prefer training than wasting precious time loitering about West City and more than likely having to keep both women in check for the whole duration of the visit. He curses his stupidity at what he said the evening before, but in hindsight he thinks that having both under his supervision is better than leaving one in his house to stew in a broth of jealousy and envy. Vegeta has lived through worse days, much worse, but that does not make his growing sense of foreboding over this trip recede from the forefront of his mind.
Throwing on one of his slightly worn out leather jackets, jeans and t-shirts he is ready for the day. He already made the mistake of walking about in public in his Saiyan training gear once. The stares following him, watching him go about his business and laughing behind his back. He recalls that being a day when the hospital in West City saw a sharp rise in number of patients who suffered from trauma sustained in what was chalked down to vehicle related injuries. Next time they shall think twice before mocking the prince of Saiyans. As is expected he is ready long before the two accompanying him are, a full half hour he waits meditating. Why they put such effort into their appearance and not into strengthening themselves still baffles him, females remain as much an enigma to him as they were when he first met Bulma.
Ayeka is the first to appear out of his front door. He told her earlier when he woke up not to dress too extravagantly or else they will draw attention to themselves, apparently he should have also told her that no one else on the planet wears ornate or elaborate robes like they must do on Jurai. She feels her outfit is the most 'normal' in her wardrobe and Vegeta would probably have to agree with her on that: a long and flowing dark purple kimono with blue cuffs and collar all tied back with a green and red bow around her waistline. They exchange pleasantries and greetings, he notices her eagerness and can not blame her for apart from his house there is only one other place on his planet she has seen. Her happy mood soon sours when the second woman walks towards them.
A simple knee length black dress. One single thin red line sprouting from her left shoulder spirals down her dress meeting and terminating at the cut running up and exposing her right thigh. Ryoko once again has attempted to tame her hair back in a ponytail but the wild spikes still mostly prevail and, as per Vegeta's instructions, has not got her tail accessory adorning her slender waist. The Saiyan prince greets the final person making up their party and with that takes both women's hands in his own and uses Instant Transmission to take them to the antipode of where his house is located. As the three forms vanish from the lakeside Yamcha, Trunks, Sasami and Washu bid them adieu from the threshold. Right on schedule a blip appears on the horizon. This small black dot swoops across miles of terrain growing in size. Covering the many leagues that lie between his house and that of his best mate Trunks, Goten arrives.
With the whole class all punctual and here the two lovers look down at the three children beaming at them expectantly. Although he kindly offers whatever assistance he can provide to Washu she dismisses his aid, preferring to go solo for the first lesson. With shoulders slumped in defeat, the woman with the intellect to rival that of all people on Earth combined reluctantly trudges towards her lab with the kids in tow. They follow her through her dimensional gateway to receive the education they were promised … whilst Washu racks her mind for plans of such cunning ingenuity and guile to alleviate this burdensome task from her magnificent mind. Over a hundred ideas are generated and discarded as she continues to lead them into the deeper and darker depths of her cherished laboratory.
Yamcha has the house to himself, if you do not count the two feline creatures that are nowhere to be seen. With his help not needed, no pressing issues to contend with and, more importantly, no Saiyan hogging the artificial gravity room he goes to train. Practise makes perfect as they say, but practise all he might Yamcha knows there is a very large glass ceiling separating him from those with Saiyan blood running through their veins. He might never be able to save the day or be of any use should anyone choose to attack his homeworld but to him those are no reasons to stop. Just like Vegeta, training his body to be the ultimate weapon is his life and all he has ever really known. Being a professional sportsman might have held many benefits but when there is no challenge to the game the cries and shouts of adoring fans soon turned to hollow echoes rattling round his skull. Only the occasional fight on the pitch would abate his ennui but now he has the facilities to train and someone to fight for. Yamcha would have traded all the wealth he accumulated as the best baseball player the world will ever see, the fame and all his possessions that were stripped from him for a woman to love him without a second thought. Although he knows every single martial art in existence, at 250 times the Earth's natural gravity he goes over every single move and teaching for Washu.
Minutes tick by and the strength ebbs out of his body from the extreme conditions of the room. Weariness and fatigue set their deep roots into his flesh, draining from him his will and ability to continue. He switches off the machine creating the gravity and warms down his muscles before exiting. Yamcha flicks the beads of sweat from his eyes and runs his hands through the thick strands of his mane. Opening his eyes he backs away from a face right in front of his own. Washu has been waiting behind the door leading out of the training chamber for only a bit to startle him and smiles happily from the success of her little jape. She says hello to him whilst he recoils from her sudden appearance, she seems extremely pleased about something and it is unnerving him.
" Uh yeah, hi. I was just thinking about you." He starts most conversations to Washu with those last few words, just to make life for himself easier. " Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with the little tykes and teaching them stuff?" A cold, unseated fear drifts over him as he witnesses her heavenly and lusciously rosy lips morph into a sly grin.
" Ha! That Vegeta thought he had outsmarted me but he forgot that I, Washu, am the greatest and most beautiful intellectual to ever live. He merely tasked me with such a simple thing as giving those children an education but never in which way to do it." Yamcha starts to think to himself he should not have left poor, innocent children with his mistress of knowledge. " Right this second they are having bestowed upon them all the knowledge that they require from one of my old brilliant inventions! I called it Washu's cranial data convection helm of scholarship! I whipped that baby up 7 centuries ago and revolutionised learning in five solar systems and now it frees me from such a menial and debasing task, Mwuhaha!" The manic cackles of a mad scientist do little to reassure Yamcha about the health and well-being of the children in their care. He should not have left them at the mercy of her. Washu's cackles are really beginning to freak him out, the crazed eyes and Cheshire smile warping his beloved's face.
" What is it Yamcha? Is something wrong?" She has noticed the weird and fearful way in which he is now looking at her. As she looks at him with raised eyebrows and a questioning look he starts to panic. The truth would definitely not be the right thing to say in this situation so Yamcha thinks fast.
" Oh…err... nothing's wrong. How could anything be wrong when you're here. It's just that once again you astound me with your brilliance … and have a very cute laugh." He appeals to her massive inflated ego, the one sure thing guaranteed to work and that it does. Washu's face smiles at him. He weakly smiles back.
" You know flattery will get you everywhere." Her smile holds none of the earlier manic glee and he lets the breath he had been holding escape in relief. Washu is always one to repay a good deed with another and so in appreciation for his kind words she affectionately hugs him tightly, he returns the favour embracing her also and tenderly kissing her gently on the flawless skin of her neck.
Meanwhile, Vegeta, Ryoko and Ayeka spawn into existence in some quiet suburban alleyway. As always Ayeka has a slight adverse reaction to the instantaneous form of transport, as she winces in discomfort the space pirate looks about the dark and dingy guinnel trying to glimpse what this world has to offer. Ayeka goes to move her hand to her aching stomach as Ryoko tries to take off and fly out of the darkness into the sunlit street. Both fail simultaneously. Ayeka's hand and Ryoko's are still being held onto by Vegeta from the Instant Transmission. They look down to see their fingers interlocking his coriaceous, gloveless digits. Vegeta knows what he is doing, he has not suddenly had a massive change in his scarred blackness of a heart but just wanted to grasp their attention. That he certainly has as well as causing slight colour to grace their cheeks at this touch.
" There are some basic rules you must comply with whilst in my company here, I shall not hesitate to take either of you back should you misbehave. Under no circumstances will you fly or show off any of your powers that these weaklings are incapable of, understand Ryoko?" Vegeta is stern and serious, today is not a day he wishes to be messed about by the natives. Any unwanted attention might cause people to recognise who he is, not a public figure but still he was the husband of Bulma Briefs the head of Capsule Corporation … and the man who murdered hundreds at the last world tournament in front of television cameras.
" Hey, why me?" Ryoko looks disheartened at not being able to use her favourite form of travel, she always feel so liberated and free when her feet are not touching the ground.
" You were just about to fly out of this passageway, were you not?" Ryoko nods, unenthusiastically agreeing to the laws he is laying down. A small price to pay for Vegeta to hold hands with her and stay with her for a full day. The modest princess never planned on such extravagant conduct when out in public but there is one thing she has been thinking about though.
" Lord Vegeta will we not stand out at all, some of us do have rather striking appearances." Vegeta thought for a second she might have had something constructive to say, not something fuelled by vanity.
" Why thank you Ayeka for noticing. But no need to worry about my beauty, I'm used to the attention." Gripping Vegeta's hand with both of hers and pulling closer to him, Ryoko annoys Ayeka by turning her statement against her.
" Ha, what utter drivel. The only reason people look at you are those massive and, quite frankly, ridiculous ears of yours." The aforementioned appendages twitch, sticking clean out of the unsuccessfully ponytailed hair of Ryoko. Vegeta can see just where this day is destined to end up. Ryoko strikes back. This insult will not be met with an offhand remark or trading of witticisms, releasing one of her delicate hands from Vegeta she then proceeds to throw herself at him. Caressing him with the dark sleeves of her costume wrapping around the prince's well built chest.
" Vegeta, Ayeka's being mean to me. You don't think my ears look silly do you?" The prince of all Saiyans does not appear to be amused. It has been less than a minute and the bickering has already begun. Looking up to the face of Ryoko with her feigned innocence and across to the growling princess of Jurai, Vegeta chooses to amend the rules he set.
" Can both of you try and behave yourselves? It's not much to ask is it? For this one day: no fighting, no arguing and try to get along." He watches as both women's eyes continue to linger on the other, neither breaking this glare.
" OK! Let's go!" Ryoko stops glowering and just smiles contently at Vegeta. Ayeka does not fail to notice the extreme proximity of Ryoko to Vegeta or how she is nuzzling closer and resting her cheeks on his broad shoulders. The Saiyan does not seem to mind the cyan haired beauty clinging onto him and it seems to be keeping her quiet and out of trouble which is all fine by him. However, he is not so blind as to see this is only pleasing one of the two women whereas the other's eyes are boring maliciously straight into the back of Ryoko, very evil thoughts being directed that way. Vegeta is seeing this situation to only have one viable solution, to treat both women perfectly equally.
" Come now." With Ayeka's hand still in his he pulls her in closer. She is startled at finding herself face to face with him, her body next to his with an arm offered towards her. Her pretty face starts to warm and glow at this gesture as she accepts it and slowly links arms with Vegeta. Hesitantly she looks at him to see if he is OK with such a public show of affection but as always his face yields as much emotion as a the brick wall behind him. Ryoko frowns for a few seconds seeing this but in the end decides that she is the one hugging Vegeta and all Ayeka is doing is linking arms so soon becomes happy again as they take their first steps to leave this grimy alley.
Leading the way into the sun's rays and straight into a bustling street full of humans going about their business with a woman in tow on either side of him, Vegeta heads off on his way striding purposefully towards his objective within this city he previously resided in. The hubbub of urban life distracts all homo sapiens briskly walking past and overtaking the three aliens. Blinded to these strangers in their midst by the blinkers of modern day living, not a single person stops to observe their surroundings for if they did then they would be treated to the sight of a Saiyan prince strolling down the high street with a Juraian princess and a notorious pirate from beyond the stars. Human civilisation may be at its pinnacle, a glistening spectacle of technology, yet both Ayeka and Ryoko have seen wonders from the heavens that by far surpass this city.
With the duo attached to him still surveying these new surroundings and taking it all in, Vegeta arrives at his first port of call. A small one story shop sandwiched in between towering skyscrapers, looking nearly as out of place as he does in this environment. As he walks towards the doorway of the shop, princess and pirate see the magnificent arrays of flowers and flora displayed in the window. He is taking them into a florist, the name of this establishment long since faded from the worn and aged wooden sign hanging above the door the trio walk through. Striking their nostrils is the heady aroma arising from the multitude of multi-coloured blooms. Once past the entranceway Vegeta disentangles himself from the females and heads to the counter and begins placing his order in a hushed tone. The stout and diminutive fellow, a full head shorter then the prince, in a simple brown overcoat and flat cap disappears off into the back to fetch Vegeta's order. Turning around and leaning on the weathered and jaded ash counter a very slight smile plays across the face of the warrior, seeing the women so enraptured and engrossed by the natural beauty of the beauteous blossoms covering every wall of this cosy shop. Without his eyes leaving the charming womenfolk now turned to face his way his hand slips into his pocket and retrieves from it several green tinted bits of rectangular paper with many markings on it, the idea of paper based currency is not one common to many planets except for Earth, and places them down on the counter. Rustling out of the back room carrying the bouquet of flowers, the short and stocky shop keeper takes the money and the exchange is complete. Picking up his purchase he strides back towards the women, they seem incredibly jubilant at his approach brandishing flowers.
" Oh Lord Vegeta they are most splendid, they remind me just of the flowers that grew around the palace gardens back on Jurai."
" Hey! He bought those for me not some snotty, jumped up despot. Isn't that right Vegeta?" The smile falls from his face as the usual, inescapable squabbling is soon to escalate. The whole world does not revolve around either of them as much as they like to think so.
" These flowers are for none of you so stop with this incessant babbling." That intrigues the women as well as silencing them.
Only thinking about themselves and this special day of theirs they fail to see the bigger picture, but one other person exists whom he would offer flowers to and they dwell nearby. Looking the other way and pretending to be busy with his stock, the shop keeper sees it as in his best interest to ignore this little domestic and forget about these strange customers still in his store. Stuffing the bouquet's base into one of the pockets on the back of his pair of jeans he once again extends his arms out to be taken by Ayeka Jurai and Ryoko the pirate. The two of them both are just a tad unsure when intertwining their arms with his, bedevilled by this mystery of the person Vegeta thinks deserves the romantic gift of flowers more so than either of them. As soon as they have made contact with him Vegeta continues on his way, not waiting to dispel the doubts building in their minds or answer the questions flying around their heads. Vegeta maintains a hard and fast pace, urgency lending itself to his strides as they round corner after corner, turning this way and that till the building is in front of them.
Large and yellow is the hemispherical building they find themselves at, rings of windows dotting around the circumference and two prominent and jutting towers on the roof. Above the double doors is the name of the company headquarters they are at, painted in big bold letters it reads 'Capsule Corporation'. What was once his house is not where he is looking, the steely eyes of the prince are locked firmly on the small, gladed alcove hidden away in the far corners of the expansive gardens. The feet of the Saiyan do not move for a full minute, rooted to the spot as an inundation of memories flood themselves mercilessly before him. The best years of his life were here in this place, where he shed himself of solitude and took on the mantle of a husband and a father. A mere bitter reminiscence of happier times and days long since in the past. A boot falls falteringly in front of the other. The pronounced musculature of his Saiyan being is tense as it normally is when on the cusp of battle. Petite fingers squeeze his hand in a comforting manner. Her reassuring smile gives him the much needed boost of confidence to face what he must confront, Ayeka releases her hand from his and stands back to give him the room and privacy he obviously wants. Such a slight nod from Vegeta's head directed at her as his feet start on the path across the verdant emerald lawn and Ryoko disentangling herself from him along the way looking bemused at what is happening.
Barred from their view by the pruned Leylandii hedges skirting around this most special area, Vegeta gently pulls out his offering from the back of his scruffy jeans and kneels down, bowing his head. Purest white as virgin snow are the bunch of roses within his well used fists, their sharp thorns failing to pierce his hardened hide much unlike something else. Petals fall like snowflakes, drifting down gracefully before hitting the cold, hard stone and settling there for evermore to wither and decay. Smatterings of colour punctuate the immaculate bouquet, brightest cerulean and a golden centre. Forget-me-nots the people of Earth call them, Vegeta cares little for the symbolism behind these dying stalks but the colour reminded him of her hair and those deep and caring eyes. The flowers thud onto the grave. Stone stares back at him, the words etched onto the tomb his only company. For the first time in over a year he has returned to pay his respects to Bulma, a deep wrenching within bleeds afresh. Her parents have kept the grave-site well tended, no dirt or overgrowth to mar where she lays. The anniversary of her death came and passed him by during his own visit to the realm beyond life.
" … I'm here …." Words escape him as all his view is taken up by that of the burial place of who was once his wife before Death wrenched her from him.
" … I … I-I miss you. … We all do ….Not a day goes by where my thoughts don't go out to you and the life we shared together." Eagle like vision becomes clouded and blurred. "Trunks …, our son, … he needs you, as do I. Why did it have to be this way? I should have been the one taken if there were any justice left in this universe save for that fool Kakarot… . He was the damn one who used up the antidote before you had a chance to synthesise more. We should have prepared. I should have thought about such things instead of being so blinded by my petty-mindedness, what good is my strength if I can't even protect my wife, the woman I love, from micro-organisms. … You should have told us you were ill and suffering. You didn't though, you kept it to yourself … why? Why, Why?! Why?!" Light erupts into the heavens, a flash of lightning bursting forth as his true form is unchained. Lengthened spikes of shining gold fall down his shoulders and face as grief tightens its pitiless grip.
" Never did you get to see me like this, to you I shall always be second best to Kakarot: the failure, the disappointment and you deserve better than that. … I swear - I swear on your honour and memory that I will protect your planet and Trunks, my life is nothing if I cannot do these things for you. I will make sure he grows up to be a strong fighter like me … and as smart and amazing as you were." His hands resting on the grave are careful not to shatter or break the fragile stone, rubbing the growing moisture blinding his sight he sees a glowing red imprint. Solid marble warped and deformed under the energy barely contained in his body. A palm print, his palm print beneath the clichéd epitaph.
Standing up straight he recoils away before he can cause more damage, it seems the only thing he is good at is leaving a blazing path of destruction in his wake. Beauty is taken by flames until a smouldering pile of ashes is all that is left on top of her grave, falling petals turned to embers. Ragged breaths erupt out of his throat as he tries to control the raging emotions within him or else he will forfeit what minimal control he has over the ki radiating from being in the third state of Super Saiyan.
Whooshing from air displacement and the swishing sound of movement in a dress, the two new women in his life have come to check on him. Neither expected the splendour of his Super Saiyan 3 transformation, but fear it they do not. Flashes of brilliance spark and flare dangerously as he illuminates the vicinity, they cease when he feels the touch of their hands on the beefed up muscles of his shoulders. Shrinking back down so he is shorter than Ryoko again, muscle mass decreasing and hair shortening and raising, he turns to look at them as a man not a legend. After briefly explaining to Ryoko what she had observed to be the case for their visit to this place and witnessing all the clouds in the sky being burnt out of existence, Ayeka thought it was for the best if maybe just this once Vegeta was not alone. If he feels anything like she did during that long and hard month during his departure from the mortal coil then he surely will welcome his loneliness being abated, for Vegeta she will ignore Ryoko's presence for the time being. A time to mourn and respect the dead is not one the Saiyan prince really wants people to see him at, attributing any show of emotion to physical weakness as it was drilled into him all those decades ago by his father. A father who is also deceased. All he has left is his son and Kakarot, debating it in his mind possibly the ones stood by him also.
" Lady Ayeka, Ryoko. Th - …This is my wife, Bulma, or her remains. As I can't meet her in the afterlife this is all I will ever have of her, that and my son." His fingers point like a gun towards the place of internment, his eyes following achingly with a desperate pining hidden in the frosty depths of his facial apertures. " I … I have said my piece now, there is no point in lingering here and -"
" Lord Vegeta, I could say a prayer for her soul if you would like." A kind offer, it is the least she can give to him in this state of bereavement. Ryoko vanishes, uncomfortable with this situation that cuts too close to the bone - for just over a day ago she was in the exact same shoes as her prince is now. Not wanting to be reminded of her inner pain and anguish she flees, leaving him alone with Ayeka. Vegeta's cold, black stare loses its soft edge of tenderness and loving; thick set brows frown and veins stand out on his forehead.
" A prayer to whom, to the gods of Jurai? Some pathetic cult?! An impotent deity?! Who? Come on don't be shy, for all you know I could have met them in my travels in the afterlife. Wait, no. No. There is no higher being! Three times I have been to that fucking place and no gods or goddesses have I heard mentioned, let alone seen. What good is a prayer when there is no one to hear it, let alone care about it? If such things as gods exist then they long ago forsook me to this damned existence." Such an outburst of his built up frustration and wrath scares the princess, religious views are an extremely bad topic for someone who only recently got out of eternal damnation. Suffering, torment, agony and excruciating mind breaking pain; flashes of how his fate differs so much from the goody two shoes Goku erupt through his brain.
Aghast with the implications of what he is saying, Ayeka is struggling to think straight. All her life she has believed in that of the Great Goddess Tsunami who watches over all of Jurai granting her people power and prosperity in her benevolent guidance. In one fell swoop Vegeta tears down her unquestionable faith, how can one argue against someone who has seen the other side. Pants of aggravation carve from in-between his grating teeth. Gradually he calms himself and his breathing reverts back to silent inhalations, he did not mean to lose his cool like that but such things as Hell scar a man's mind.
" I - I didn't mean to offend you Lord Vegeta, … I - it's just … I was only trying to - " Feeling as if she is in the wrong and needing to apologise to him, for he is the one lamenting over his deceased wife, she tries to think of anything to say. Whilst all the time she is trying to cope with the undeniable fact that, according to Vegeta, Tsunami does not exist and never did. Her mind is still in disarray and the Saiyan sees that, messing with someone's views on the world or their beliefs is something he did not intend.
" Sorry Lady Ayeka, I got carried away. What would I know of gods when I see but the infernal half? You believe what you want to and it would please me if you prayed for Bulma." A hackneyed apology. How the tables turned so quickly, she came to see if she could comfort a husband at his wife's tombstone yet now it is he who has to offer the reassurance since he pulled the rug from beneath her feet.
Dirt gets onto her impeccably polished shoes as she shifts her feet, her head bowed facing the grass and dainty fingers clasped together in front of her stomach. Glancing up at him her amethyst eyes move across to the slab marked with the hand of Vegeta, she nods silently and steps towards him and Bulma's well maintained grave. Muttering the prayer under her breath she does what little she can and receives a warmish smile from Vegeta as thanks. The solemn atmosphere wanes as a slight hiss pulses air where Ryoko now stands holding something in her two hands. Replicating what Vegeta did, she places them on the tombstone and stands back up, wincing as she looks at her pricked fingers.
" Ryoko, those flowers are from my - Bulma's parent's garden, are they not?"
With clumps of damp soil still clinging to the uprooted flowers it is not difficult to decipher where she got them from. Still not used to any of the customs of this planet, like a small child she copied the behaviour of the others around her in an attempt to fit in. Those feline eyes of hers look at him expectantly to see if she did the right thing or not. Blood runs down her fingers and drips down onto the turf right next to the monument of Bulma's lack of life. A simple curt nod directed at her and her efforts tell her she has done right, or moderately so – Vegeta is pleased that his wife's grave has a tribute of flowers on them after he inadvertently incinerated the first lot.
" That is that. I do not want to talk about this for the rest of the day, … now I … I am yours for the remainder of this day." Beckoning them to his side again their faces are happy once more after the sombre affair. Vegeta methodically wipes away the liquid released from the sharp thorns of the roses from Ryoko's hands, her skin is nowhere near as leathery or hardened as his because of the holocausts he has lived through and caused. The triad saunter off out of Capsule Corporation grounds and into the city.
" … and so simply by carrying over the googolplex to the power nine I substituted the Xenium for the less stable Tiberium. Which I transmogrified at a molecular level to exponentially extend its half life to around 15.57 times its original value. Incorporating these into the core central processing units of the picochips allowed the super computer to be able to handle ternary coding … you understand now?" Laying down with her arms propping up her lore filled head she observes the movements of visible liquid droplets suspended far up and accurately judges the chances of precipitation – this cloud will not rain she deduces.
Stretched out on a plaid picnic blanket with Yamcha laying by her side gazing up at the azure welkin, semi rolling over she now faces him. Washu can easily tell that what she said went completely over his head. In one ear and out the other, he has no earthly idea what half of the words she said meant. He is listening to her but even Gohan would have trouble following her putting stuff in what she thinks are layman's terms. Ryo-Ohki splishes and splashes as she frolics in the shallows of the lake, she has really taken to Puar as a playmate as has Yamcha's familiar. Such simple pleasures are what he has to offer her; his company and the majestic scenery of Earth. She scowls at his lack of attention or acknowledgement to the story of one of her first major accomplishments when she was still in her preliminary years in the prestigious Science Academy.
" So … Yamcha, why didn't you treat me to a lovely little day out in the city? Hmm?" Turning to face her with a smile, Yamcha sighs to himself contently.
" Mainly for the fact I don't have a penny to my name. You don't strike me as a dinner and a movie kinda girl to be honest, what would you do in the city besides research? Anyway Vegeta did give me specific instructions not to let you loose in public."
" What, he told you to keep an eye on little old me? What could I possibly do, someone as cute as me couldn't possibly ever do anything bad." The sham of her pretending to be just another harmless woman incapable of causing widespread panic or mayhem elicits great amusement and mirth as they both chuckle at this little charade. Loud meows fail to distract the lovebirds as Ryo-Ohki and Puar instigate a frenzied bout of splashing the other, each trying to hold out against the feline nature of hating getting wet.
" You know Yamcha it would be a doddle for me to hack into the central server of a bank and redistribute some of the wealth if you get what I mean. It'll solve all your financial problems and then maybe we might be able to get some place for just the two of us, sound good?" Not currently a highwayman, Yamcha has maybe a few qualms about stealing but her with that cheeky little grin and those alluring eyes he might have to take her up on that proposal. The wolf warrior is about to fall into her seductive claws. Their lips just about to graze against each other to seal the deal when a loud slam interrupts them, thwarting Washu's plan.
Trunks clutches his head, the lavender hair of his displaced as he tore off the thing causing him blinding pain. A crumpled ring of silvery alloys clangs onto the floorboards from his hands, distorted out of shape with half the array of glimmering lights fixed to it shattered. Goten follows and two more of Washu's inventions lay broken outside her lab. Staggering out of the doorway with the world spinning around them come the Saiyan-human hybrids, minds still awhirl after what was done to them. Goku's child also has the additional hassle of having to carry Sasami for she appears to have blacked out in the wake of the unorthodox education, one of her ponytails has come undone and half her head of hair drags across the ground nearly tripping up the young lad. Hardly a few feet beyond the inter-dimensional portal and all their progress stops. Senses overloaded after the upload: vision unfocused, all balance gone and an irritating high pitched whining whistling through their attuned Saiyan ears. Knees begin to buckle and the younger of the two boys loses himself to the blackness of unconsciousness and spills Sasami onto the fall. Vegeta's son does not notice his friend collapsing, he is incapable of perception, and so trips and falls over Goten. All three children that Yamcha and Washu were entrusted with are out cold.
Yamcha's blood freezes, this does not bode well. His eyes dart worriedly to Washu who is still looking at him as if nothing has happened and she has not done anything wrong. Sometimes he wishes that she had just a tad more empathy for others, or at the very least a better understanding of the consequences of what she does. Quick as the winds he is knelt beside the children, he lets out a loud sigh seeing that they are still breathing. Nudging them, calling their names; all of it is ineffective in waking them from this inflicted torpor.
" Oh leave them be, just need a little rest that's all. It's going to take a bit of time for new neural pathways to be forged and all of the great gift I have bequeathed them to be fully absorbed. C'mon, you think I'd do something without running a full risk assessment first?" Washu's nonchalant and dismissive behaviour concerning the comatose state of the infants as she leans against the doorway does not make Yamcha feel any better, or confident, in answering her last question. Weakly he smiles at her before turning back to the children and heaving their unmoving bodies onto his shoulders. As always he has to do the physical work of lugging about the repercussions of whatever Washu does, with the children set down upon their beds he returns to his woman.
Every single jewellers, every single shop they pass that sells valuables, trinkets or something shiny, Vegeta is forced to visit by Ryoko. Diamonds, pearls, rubies, sapphires, amethysts, silver, emeralds and all the other valuable or semi-precious gemstones have to be sampled by the woman with the eyes of a magpie. If Vegeta did not have the wealth of his wife's company on his side he would be destitute by this point, at least the amount the average man earns in a year has been thrown down the drain for glistening baubles and treasures to adorn the space pirate. Maybe two or three gifts Ayeka asked for politely, seeing as how little the Saiyan cared about the cost of this day out. Whatever makes them happy and keeps them away from each other's throats Vegeta has trapped himself into doing. The Sun is drawing towards its zenith before Ryoko is ready to call her hoarding of precious metals to an end, the prince being lumbered with the job all men get during a shopping spree – pack mule. Perhaps through just being close to such content and happy females for a prolonged period is starting to rub off on Vegeta. The happy grin of the cyan haired woman overjoyed by this new ability of being able to get what she wants without breaking the law and Ayeka cheery as she gets to explore these new surroundings and get to learn of the culture of Earth and its inhabitants might soon infect the Saiyan prince. Saiyan ears twitched once when they overheard hushed whispering from behind Vegeta, he let them live as tonnes of immense jealousy at the company he is keeping bled through their mutterings. A beauty from beyond the stars around each of his herculean arms and in the respective hand the bags of their purchases, the last Saiyan prince still walks aimlessly through the high streets.
" Ooh hey! Vegeta let's go in there next, I'm bored of all this walking around." Long and elegant fingers point from Ryoko towards the small little restaurant just across the road from where they are. It does not look that much, just your bog standard restaurant with a waiter stood by the door ready to welcome in any would be customers. The princess on the other hand is used to finer dining than what would be served in such an average café. Being brought up as royalty normally is, she has very low opinions of such mediocre establishments.
" Why would we want to waste such a perfect day in a place like that, you obviously have no taste at all Ryoko. I am sure that where Lord Vegeta is taking us is a much nicer place than that dump." Both Ryoko and Ayeka look at the man in-between them to resolve this, he looks across at both of them and then to the small restaurant.
" To be frank I have no bloody idea where we are or where we are heading." Ryoko and Ayeka both sweatdrop, taken aback by a response they were not bargaining for – a guide that does not know their location and has no destination in mind. As they question him about what he means by that and what they are doing or going to do about it he takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.
" I might have lived in this city for over a decade but do I look like I normally go about a place filled with such pathetic worms? Never really explored this city, never had any real need or inclination to."
" So let's go to that food place over there then, I'm hungry." Her feelings over the subject of food are perfectly reciprocated in Vegeta, a Saiyan's stomach is never full and is always demanding more sustenance and nourishment. Saiyan's are born hungry and die still craving for food.
" You aren't the only one here Ryoko, we shall go there unless Lady Ayeka has any objections on the choice of venue for lunch." The Juraian royal smiles softly at him.
" If that is where you wish to go Lord Vegeta it is where I want to go too."
That's that then, the matter is sorted as far as Vegeta is concerned. If these two women both agree on the same thing then he is not going to complain and if food is thrown into the bargain too then it is an offer he simply cannot refuse. Luckily for them the restaurant is deserted and they get seated straight away at a table designed for a lot more than their current party. Ten chairs are placed around this large circular table, the largest in the small restaurant, Vegeta chose this table for a reason that will soon become clear. Lank and with a small little curled moustache, the only waiter appearing to be on shift at what should be one of the busiest times for a food selling place brings the menus over to the table. Vegeta flicks open the menu and glances down the list, nothing unusual just the normal typical fare expected to be found in this city. Closing his menu, having already decided on what he shall order, he sees another problem has presented itself. Blank stares emanate from the duo sat either side of him directed at the menu they hold in their hands. The Saiyan overlooked their inability to read the local written language, never mind even if he read out the menu to them, as patronising as that would be for these adult women, he would still have to contend with neither woman knowing most of the names of any ingredients or meats used.
" I'll take the lot."
" B-but sir - " Vegeta's eyes narrow at this back talk from the servant, there goes his tip straight away.
" I said I will have all that this place sells, I can pay so jump to it."
The waiter hurries off into the kitchen, something about the heartless, black pits of the pupils staring at him invoked a great unquestionable fear. Vegeta watches the pitiful maggot scurry off with a smug sense of satisfaction, he has intimidation down to an art form now.
" You don't mind that I ordered for you? You can eat what you want and whatever is left shall be mine."
Ayeka or Ryoko do not seem to care about this arrangement and swiftly find out that he got this table purely for there to be just enough room for the food to be set down before them. Ryoko shuffles her chair closer to Vegeta's so she can cuddle into his shoulder, he simply looks down at her, long since surrendered to such actions to occur today. So has Ayeka apparently, inside she is wishing many ill things to befall the space pirate but the prince asked her to behave so she will just have to put on a brave face and pretend it does not bother her. With no other customers to serve it is not too long before the starters soon begin to arrive on the table, being brought across by the lone waiter trip after trip. Vegeta eyes the salads warily, if push comes to shove he will eat greenery but his true diet is carnivorous in nature, thankfully though the Juraian royal seems quite keen on these healthy dishes. Ryoko is considering the idea of a liquid lunch as she sees a tray of bottles brought to the table, ordering everything on the menu also included the wine list on the back which had at the very least 30 different types of wine on it. A loud and ominous creak cracks through the air as she leans on Vegeta whilst chugging the contents of a 75 year old Chianti which draws her and Ayeka's attention as they see that he is actually not properly sitting down on his chair. His feet are touching the floor but the seat of his trousers are not connecting with that of the chair. Still restraining himself from the bounty of food till the women have had their fill, he simply says to them that he is wearing clothing of a weight he doubts the chair would be able to manage.
" You want to join me for a little drinkie? C'mon sourpuss, lighten up and have some." Inebriation is clouding the mind of the pirate as she tries to get Vegeta to consume the alcoholic drinks along with her.
" No, think on it this way: the less I drink the more there is for you." With her being fairly tipsy by this point is the only reason she accepts this weak logic … and makes her way onto the next bottle of wine. Only one of the bottles was left for Ayeka. The bottle that contained the wine of the lowest alcoholic concentration was yielded from Ryoko to Ayeka after Vegeta read the percentages for them. As the Saiyan clears the table of all remaining comestibles, the second round of food is piled high onto the solid table struggling to support the weight placed on top of it. A young couple helplessly in love wander into the restaurant and get a table on the far side of the dining room.
" Vegey, why do they get stuff like that? Can we have those things for our little romantic meal?" She is referring to the candles and single red rose placed in a long slender glass vase, even with her mind slightly handicapped by the copious amounts of drink she sees this difference in treatment between their table and that of the only other customers. The princess notices this also but does not want to make a fuss over such inconsequential things.
" Don't call me that. I am a Saiyan warrior not some pet like your Ryo-Ohki." Happy and content as he possibly can be during the time in which he is eating always has to get spoiled by something, or someone. Such a disgraceful thing to be called, only someone with no sense of honour or pride would ever voluntarily agree to such a demeaning title.
" But all couples have cute nicknames for each other."
" You are not a couple though Ryoko, heaven forbid some poor soul ever getting paired with you." Ayeka can no longer just stand by and takes action.
" Vegey, she's being mean to me again." Heavy drinking does normally lead to an increase in physical intimacy one way or another, but her affectionate squeeze as she hugs him could simply be by virtue of her normal behaviour.
He carries on eating despite the hindrance of a space pirate latched onto him, the conversation would but only escalate into an argument between the two women if it were carried on. The rest of the meal passes by in relative silence, Vegeta paying little or no heed to the women sat on opposing sides of him unless it is concerning an offer of food which he is always appreciative of. Little things like his words of thanks and gratitude, the minimal amount of compassion he is willing to show, is enough for Ayeka. She does not require the security of feeling his body next to hers like Ryoko, although she would not complain if such a thing were to happen. Stuffing his face with the bounty of surprisingly good quality steaks and mountains of potato products, Vegeta does not glance up from the plates laid in front of him. Despite the smooth skin of a certain space farer being rubbed against him and the kind and open hearted Ayeka quietly smiling at him, he tries to keep himself focused on food alone and not these sirens of temptation. Not long does it take for the boyfriend and girlfriend to pull themselves away from each other to observe slack jawed the overwhelming lack of decorum from their neighbouring diners. More food than has ever been prepared at once in this restaurant is all consumed by a single man without pause. A thick wad of notes are left behind on top of the landscape of plates and cutlery in payment for the food that filled a small corner of Vegeta's cavernous stomach. Fed but not watered, he leaves after paying the bill, all the drink being alcoholic in nature he dare not touch the firewater.
Back with Ryoko on his left and Ayeka on his right they step back out into the sunlight reflecting off of the glass panes and shining metal panels of the city. They both had maybe a tad too much to drink, as indicated by their inability to walk in a perfectly straight line – or a line of any kind altogether. The princess had but one bottle of the wine compared to Ryoko's several dozen, despite this she does have a much lower and more human tolerance for it. Stagger left then stagger right, the swaying motion of their movements are kept in line by Vegeta's anchoring arms linked with theirs.
" Ugh your breath stinks Ryoko. If you're going to go around smelling up the place and ruining this nice clean atmosphere please go and do it far away from me and Lord Vegeta."
" Well your breath is nearly as bad as that putrid perfume you douse yourself with princess. Ow!" Vegeta tenses his huge biceps and puts pressure on the arms of the women trapped within them to stop this trading of insults between the intoxicated duo.
" One more peep out of you two drunkards and I will call an end to this trip." The Saiyan is dead serious, he has had far too much social interaction than he would prefer for one day and he has a bad feeling that if things continue then the two women's behaviour will severely degrade. Even though under the influence, anyone with half a brain would know he will go through with that threat so neither woman dares push it even though their animosity between each other still hangs thick in the air.
" I ain't no drunkard. Look and see, I'm perfectly sober." Ryoko has sneakily utilised her ki to dispel the toxins circulating through her blood stream and eradicate her besottedness. Ayeka can only look at this enviously with fuzzy eyes, how she wishes that she was capable of shifting this foul affliction instantaneously. She yelps in surprise as a sharp and hot feeling rushes through her arm and disperses throughout her body attacking and destroying all remnants of the lunch time drink. Vegeta granted her wish for clear headedness, if when sober they test his patience to the utmost limit he does not want to be pushed over the brink by liquor fuelled antics.
" … Do either of you have a place you would like to go to, or an activity – no Ryoko – or an activity you want to do." Vegeta can read the space pirate like a book and did not have to wait for her to open her mouth before shooting down in flames whatever indecent act she was going to mention. For this he gets Ryoko pouting at him, not happy that she did not get a chance to say it and so annoy Ayeka, and also a very quick response from the crass vixen.
" What? I didn't say anything. You do know it'd be a lot easier for me to choose where to go if you bothered to tell us what was actually here to choose from."
" Why should you be the one to choose Ryoko, you just had your turn with that restaurant. I think it should be me who gets the choice of our next destination." Vegeta nods stiffly, agreeing with Ayeka's viewpoint and starts reciting the few buildings and places within this city that he has knowledge of. One by one he exhausts the list as, not surprisingly, the only places he can name are those that do not appeal too much to a Juraian princess :butchers or other food shops mainly and one gym that Vegeta visited once just to totally humiliate and emasculate all those within it to alleviate a foul mood he was in that day. Screeching caws break the silence as Vegeta thinks about what his former wife might have mentioned concerning things to do in the city.
" … well there is also the beach." Ayeka's eyes glisten happily as her face erupts with a happy smile.
" Oh Lord Vegeta please can we go to the beach, it has always been a dream of mine to visit the coast. Jurai only has small inland lakes on it and so I have always wanted to go to the seaside ever since hearing about it when I was a child. Can we Lord Vegeta?" Seeing no reason why not he offhandedly agrees to this idea as Ayeka's great mirth gets the better of her. Before realising what she is doing she has brazenly hugged Vegeta tightly, smiling without a care in the world and drawing the looks of many passers-by. Focused solely on the weird machine attached to a wall that appears to be dispensing money to whoever uses it, Ryoko turns and sees to her dismay that her place has been usurped. In her eyes she is supposed to be the one cuddling Vegeta like that not this other woman.
" Hey! What do you think you're doing? Hands off him missy, he's mine." Gritting her teeth as she spins around to see Ayeka with Vegeta in this manner, she roughly shoves the princess clinging onto her man away and takes back her place. The Saiyan pulls Ayeka back as she nearly gets pushed directly into the constant stream of traffic whizzing past on the road whilst getting his other arm pinned against him by the body of Ryoko possessively pressing itself to him. Purple hair wafts itself in front of the young royal's face from the speeding vehicles as a great red blush takes over her fair features upon realising what she just did in public.
" I belong to no one Ryoko, Saiyans are not possessions to be owned … not since Frieza was blasted to a million pieces. If the beach is where we are heading then I suppose that we all require clothing suitable for swimming and such." Being blessed with a nose that could sniff a fresh kill from several miles away he cannot lose his way to the ocean but finding a clothing shop might prove differently.
Lightning bolts shoot through his skull as Trunks starts to stir. Sitting up on the cold wooden flooring he glances about and punches his friend in the arm to wake him up. A cry of complaint from Goten as he is woken up rudely and they both try and figure out how they got to this room, the last thing they remember is being given a weird circlet from Washu. The pain from an experience they cannot remember has not abated at all during their slumber. Being of Saiyan blood they shirk the discomfort and wander out of the room in search of the adults, leaving behind Sasami still down for the count after they check she is OK. Stumbling on unsure and wobbly legs they get to the top of the staircase and stop, deciding it would be unwise for them to traverse the steps in their current condition. A figure below them is sashaying seductively towards the other.
Utilising all of her womanly charms and assets to the maximum, Washu glides casually towards Yamcha. Hips swaying, chest thrust forward with her shoulders thrown back and a mysterious twinkle hidden within her emerald eyes … all the time keeping her hands and what they hold behind her back. Trying to tear his eyes away from her captivating legs and the rest of her body slowly but surely advancing on him, Yamcha knows full well what she is up to. She has chosen not to respect his opinion and instead is surreptitiously trying to get him to agree with what she thinks would be best, the thing that took down Saiyan children loosely hanging in her fingers. Resisting her feminine charms and wiles as best as he can against someone as stunningly ravishing as the greatest scientist of the universe, Yamcha takes small hesitant steps backwards away from Washu. A conflicted feeling of ambiguity clashes in the mind of the wolf warrior, whether to fall for the gorgeous temptation before him or stand his ground and not allow her to have her own nefarious way yet again. His bare feet shuffle towards the front door some more.
" Where you going Yamcha? Just come with me and I'll show you things you couldn't ever imagine in your wildest dreams. No need to be scared or worried. Do you think I would hurt my Yamcha?"
" Look Washu I told you no. I am not going to have that thing of yours go messing with my brain."
" Stop being so difficult. Come on Yamcha just trust me, hehe. Think. If you utilise my cranial data convection helm of scholarship then both of us would be super geniuses, your intellect would be relatively close to mine. Try to think of all the things we could do together, you'd be able to help me out in my research and it might even heighten your fighting abilities. Yamcha and Washu, masters of the mind, and the universe will tremble before our monumental brain power, ha. Mwuhaha!"
" No means no Washu. I am who I am and don't want to get altered by any of your tech, no matter how good you say it is. Android 18 might be a damn sight better at fighting than me but Krillin's told me how much she hates what Doctor Gero did to her." Yamcha stays adamant in his decision whilst all the time gradually edging his way out of the front door and onto the green turf with Washu hounding him every step of the way. Every human is born with a great fear of the unknown and to Yamcha most things concerning Washu are mysteries to him.
Scared of the device and the mind altering abilities of it, his lover chooses to ignore the growing look of dread on his face. Stupendous intellect and always having been the smartest person wherever she has roamed throughout the galaxy led to her developing a very strong sense of superiority to all around her. For Washu what she thinks or believes has to be the right thing, unquestionably so, everyone else's opinions are wrong logically because she is the smartest and therefore more capable of forming the correct thought. The scientist's frustration builds at this defiance of her will, who is he to question the decisions of Washu. Then to top it all off, no longer restricted by being inside a building, Yamcha flippantly takes both feet off of the ground and proceeds to levitate just high enough that she cannot reach him.
" No! Yamcha! Why do you have to be so stubborn, just get down right now and do as I say." Fuming at her inability to persuade him with her charms or reason, she stomps her feet and shouts at him. The composure of Washu has broken, Yamcha can see the menace in her eyes and thinks that it is probably best to stay a few feet above her. " I won't do that thing you really enjoy ever again if you don't put on my brilliant invention." He stretches out and gazes up at the sky. " Yamcha don't you turn your back on me!" Ignoring her, he relaxes and tries to forget about the irate woman mad with rage beneath him. That is until she leaps up far enough that she manages to get him. A sharp cry of pain from Yamcha as he feels the full weight of Washu dangling from the long tail of hair flowing from his scalp. She wins this round as he begins to descend, or so she thinks. One sonic boom later and no longer is she holding onto his hair but instead floating off the ground and caught in Yamcha's burly arms with her own slender limbs trapped against her body.
" Wha -? Let me go! Grr, I don't -" She knows it is fruitless but fidgets as best she can to escape. His calm demeanour just feels like he is trying to humiliate and belittle her, something she detests nearly as much as Vegeta does.
" Sh, calm down Washu. You're getting worked up over nothing. Just take a deep breath and stop this silliness, my answer is still no Washu." Soothing words and a kind smile emanate from him. Washu's anger blinds her to these things, all she has on her mind is that she is being held captive in the air with her legs kicking about like a petulant child.
" Silly? Did you call me silly?! I am the best scientific prodigy that has ever and will ever exist! Put me down and release me now!"
" Washu, you'll always be the smartest person to me. Forget about it." She is making this very hard work for him, his efforts being wafted away like his strength in any battle he has participated in the last two decades. He loosens his grip on her, receiving a worried look from Washu as she fears a drop from 10ft onto solid ground, and gently but firmly holds her aloft in the air by her womanly hips. The gamble he made has paid off, she is not making any move to put the dangerous headpiece upon his noggin.
" I will not, this is of major importance." He moves his face close to hers and looks deep into her eyes. Fires burn down to quiet embers, the wrath of a woman believing herself to be scorned dies. The vivid green eyes of the woman he fell in love with no longer stare fixed at him with malice or intent. " Why don't you want me to improve you? Yamcha, I just thought you'd like it if we had more in common … I can show you all the statistics showing how safe - " Crash! Both adults turn to look at the source of the noise, floating down to solid earth again they see the cause of the disturbance. Goten is laying face first down at the bottom of the stairs. A muted groan of pain from Goku's child and guffaws of laughter from Vegeta's child who dared the still addled Goten to take on the challenge of successfully navigating the staircase. The second son of Goku rolls over onto his back and nimbly flips back onto his feet and then falls flat on his face once again.
" Safe? Honestly?" He questions Washu with this evidence proving the contrary to what she was about to say.
" They're alive aren't they. It won't cause any lasting or permanent damage to them They are perfectly OK"
" Washu they can't even walk in a straight line." No concern or worry is in her face, how she appears so calm and uncaring when these children appear to need medical attention disturbs him. One major thing though is plaguing his mind, a thought that if it comes into being will spell certain doom. " Will the effects wear off before Vegeta returns 'cos if they don't both of us are dead meat." He hopes that whatever she says will be good news.
" Stop overreacting Yamcha. I told you the effects are only temporary, give them a few more hours of rest and they have a 76% chance of being back to normal … unless they go throwing themselves down flights of stairs." Yamcha weakly smiles at her little joke as he goes to help Goten up as he still struggles with his lack of any sense of balance. Looking so much like his father, Yamcha can not help but draw comparisons between Goten and when Goku fist had his tail removed. Kneeling beside him and at eye level, Washu's eyes quickly scan over the hybrid youth checking his physical condition. " Yep, he seems to be recovering just as I predicted, here I'll even show you what marvels it has performed in their cerebral cortex. Now Goten, I want you to answer the following questions: what occurs when multiple streams of high energy positrons collide … and who is the most intelligent and beautiful woman to ever live?"
" Uh … what I don't under – That Miss Washu would be total protonic reversal and the answer to the second question is Washu Hakubi the great and magnificent. … I don't know Miss Washu." The teacher smiles, pleased with this perfect answer as Goten scratches and holds his hurting head. Yamcha clears his throat drawing Washu's attention. The chirpy grin on her face from her boosted ego is a pleasant change from a few minutes ago, he still has one niggling thought he would like answered though. He pulls her head close to his and whispers into her ear so that the two lads don't overhear.
" As far as I know that wasn't what today's lesson was going to be about, or any lesson for that matter. How much did you actually 'teach' them Washu?" Her brows furrow in confusion at this weird question, the answer is so obvious to her.
" You really think I'd go through that hassle every day? Ha, what a stupid notion. No, that won't be necessary for you fail to grasp what my cranial data convection helm of scholarship is capable of. In a mere 15 minutes a full 1.27% of my whole archives of information were uploaded into their brains and I am sure that should prove more than sufficient to them. You may have observed that it also preserved their sweet innocent minds from a few of the more biological topics as all data they have been given will lay dormant in their minds. Only when answered a direct question pertaining to something they do not consciously know the answer to will theses reserve banks of knowledge be accessed by their subconscious. Aren't I such a genius?" All things considered it does not sound like she has totally screwed their brains up to Yamcha. Somewhat relived he turns back to look back at the boys clumsily trying to manoeuvre themselves about. Shaking his head and letting out a slight sigh he sees Sasami emerging out of the room he put her in, with no Saiyan might to aid her Ryo-Ohki instead is acting like a partial guide dog. Thwack!
" Wha the fu-"
" Oops, sorry Yamcha. Hehe, forgot that I only have these manufactured for a lesser diameter than your head." Her slamming the device onto his skull took him by surprise more so than it caused him actual pain. Now there is a third male holding their head as Washu sneakily skulks back off into her lab with a mischievous smirk on her face.