"Alright, kids, settle down!" a teacher belonging to a species of aliens with a head resembling an octopus blurted out a bubbly noise from an opening underneath his mouth. One which found the appendages of the lower face covering it up the entire time. "We've got a transfer student that I want to introduce you all to now that you're all here."
The teacher waved his hand toward the door, inviting the transfer student in with a wave of his hand. The curious denizens of the classroom stared at the open door. Very few of them had a clearer view of the student from where they were sitting, and those that could see him looked rather taken aback. An upper half of a human-like face peeked out from the corner up to the nose before the broad-shouldered giant entered the classroom.
"He's huge!" a gasp came from the north-western side of the classroom. Recoome rushed into the classroom with an elegant strut, shuffling his feet and tapping them like a nervous rabbit, but he displayed remarkable grace in his approach nearer to the teacher.
"This is Recoome, he transferred here from Frieza Planet No. 77 after the Planet Likom's introduction into Lord Frieza's empire. It has been the decision of the educational committee that Recoome here is too bright for the school he was studying in at the time and that his talents would be best served studying here," the teacher explained before waving his flappy hand at the desks. "Please, find yourself a seat, Recoome."
With a cup of creamy paste on his tray, Recoome wandered the canteen, strutting in one direction before shifting to the next, smelling the air like a fawn. Once Recoome found where some kids from his class based their groups in, he redirected his strut toward the location, though the bottoms of his fellow students occupied all the seats in the area already.
"Did you see that new guy? Like… How old is he?" a female alien resembling a mixture between a humanoid and a jellyfish cackled with her gal pals. Some of them thought they were quiet enough for Recoome to not hear them talking about him when he was just four steps away from them, some considered that the chaos of the canteen during the long break could drown out their chat while others didn't much care if Recoome heard them or not.
"He's so massive! Is that a thing in Frieza Planet No. 77? If so, I think I wanna go there on vacation!" a blobby-faced alien female shook her head and began lulling left and right with a hazy waving motion as she imagined perfectly sculpted men like Recoome littering the entire planet and tending to her every need as a tourist.
"Too bright for his old school? Yeah, right, more like the school needed this juggernaut for sports!" a more masculine voice came from a seat further to the right, Recoome figured he had been standing there long enough so he may as well have joined in with the guys talking about him. They seemed curious enough to get to know him, so he approached them.
"Greetings, fellow concomitants in the avenue of edification, I have secured my subsistence and would therefore like to ensconce from all this boisterousness alongside you," Recoome spoke up with a loud, low-pitched and slurry enough to sound goofy tone of voice that provided a stinging contrast to the eloquent content of his words.
A couple of students cringed, stuffing their fists into their mouths while the tallest, grey-skinned alien with two massive orbs for eyes at each side of the top of the hill that was his body turned his spotty nostrils aiming them at a seat behind them.
"Sorry, pal, unless you can get these guys here to vacate a seat, you won't find a place to sit in," he replied. The wet-skinned leader of the classmate group seemed to be incredibly polite to the newbie as he offered a smile accompanying the hopeless attempts to keep cringe at bay from his friends around him.
"Ah, I see. But alas, what cumbersomeness. I shall canvass my accommodations with these magnificent teenyboppers there," Recoome put up his finger in proclamation of his will before pressing it to his lip and approaching the large, shark-like older youths as directed by his classmates who, in Recoome's mind, still had his best interests in mind.
"Excuse me, sinewy striplings, I have been brewing in sparkling sanguineness that you would overturn this here recliner for my sociable and nourishing intentions alongside my classroom cohorts over there," Recoome worded his request with a goofy and hopeful face with a slight lisp and losing none of his hick-like pronunciation. The naïve smile shaped like a tiny slug looking up stayed on his face the whole time that the massive, aquatic-looking alien froze in place after being disturbed and stood up, turning to Recoome while his eyes filled with red blood–a sign of aggression in the particular species.
"What the hell did you just say to me? Say it again, say it right to my face!" the shark-like extraterrestrial that dwarfed even Recoome, whose height in his mid-teens approached two meters already.
"He asked if you would give him your seat and move somewhere else, 'cause someone of his jerkoff classmates suggested you might," one of his shark-like group translated it to the massive brute while the ogre himself just gazed at Recoome, sizing him up almost as his source of food.
"Eh? Sure, here, you can take my seat and have it!" the bestial teen scooped his chair up and swung it over his head in a chopping motion like a medieval executioner aiming to part someone's head from their shoulders. Instead of cracking Recoome in two, however, the chair swung through space while Recoome twirled on one foot, spinning right behind the fiendish bully. The eye of Recoome's classmate who had pranked Recoome twitched in embarrassment over such girly moves, although Recoome had been prancing around one of the most dangerous folks in the entire school.
Just as the shark-like brawler prepared to swing his arm and the chair he clenched in it by its frame a second time, he realized he was frozen in place as Recoome had grabbed a part of the chair as well while proceeding to sit down on it.
"That will be just splendid, my herculean compatriot, you can manumit this chair at once for I am positively proficient in the undertaking of hunkering down," Recoome answered with his tray placed perfectly on the table. The orange-haired giant had pulled the chair out from the bully's grip with one good yank.
"Young Recoome, please focus on your test and don't gawk around," the teacher disciplined his new student subtly. It was, after all, his first week in a new school. Already the young humanoid was dodging trouble, left and right, and clashing with some dangerous crowd. If only he wasn't so oblivious to the fact that he was aggravating those bruisers, he'd be more focused on schoolwork.
"Oh, but I have reached the state of culmination with this questionnaire, respected pedagogue!" Recoome pointed out with an exalted look on his face, pointing upward with his index and earning more than just one envious and even mocking glares from other students. Even the teacher seemed to dismiss this claim.
"This is no time for jokes, young Recoome, if you keep messing around, I'll take your test and grade it," the teacher shook his head, flapping the tentacles hanging below his nose about in disapproval but Recoome just raised his index and typed a few buttons, sending the completed test to the teacher.
"Well… This… This is… I must admit, you've done well, young Recoome, you've done well," the teacher scratched his blobby head, causing his fingers to disappear halfway into the soft tissue.
"Gratitude for your credit, esteemed educator!" Recoome nodded with a polite smile.
"Son, won't you head to school already? You usually leave early, if you don't hurry, you'll merely arrive seconds before the bell," Recoome's father, a spitting image of him except for the hairdo, sporting a short, hedge shave of brown hair pointed out.
"Progenitor, I've no longing to dispatch toward the institution of schooling. My compatriots seem to misconstrue me as some sort of imbecile, whatever their rationale in doing so may be…" Recoome sighed as he dangled his refined and chiseled to perfection legs, butting the floor with his heels.
"Lament not, young Recoome, merely take note your acquaintances see merely the facade of your presentation, not your genuine ego," Recoome's mother, a tall and muscular for a humanoid female, alien with a square-shaped, short shave of blond hair pointed out with an exalted expression.
"Would it mitigate this maltreatment if I acted more harebrained, perhaps?" Recoome looked up with a pouty expression.
"Mayhap it would, dear boy," father shrugged, "Though I'd rather see you being your true self and thriving in your new environment thusly."
"Reason communicates through your father's lips, Recoome. Though perchance it might be that spending more time around your classmates would remedy this wrongdoing in an unfamiliar process altogether–by elucidating your substantial and undeniable endowments of temperament to your well-wishers," mother suggested.
"I shall see what I can do, mother," Recoome hopped off of the armchair and ran out the door. In his jean shorts and striped T-shirt, he looked almost a tad creepy, like a grown man running around in child's clothing.
"Hey, you…" the shark pack of bruisers who chose the path of excellent athletes in life as early as in their school days halted Recoome on his confused path through the schoolyard.
"Ah, forgive my crudeness but you are currently interloping in the unraveling of the direst dilemma for me," Recoome bowed his upper body after clapping his hands together as if asking for the pack to clear out without resorting to their usual, physical antics.
"He said…" one of the crew was about to translate it, but the largest of the bunch shoved a wet hand in his face of fingers intertwined by a goopy membrane.
"I know what he said. Well, well… Who could have guessed, I guess hanging around us small-fry made you more down to earth, huh?" the knuckle-cracking bruiser with fishlike appearance taunted Recoome. His smirk appeared malicious, though Recoome sensed no immediate danger from their side.
"Indeed, I have partaken in an attempt at speaking in a more mundane manner to optimize relatability for the other classmates," Recoome nodded his head, showing his front teeth as his lips turned up, emphasizing joy that the brute had noted his effort.
"Say, you've got some meat on your bones, unlike those other shrimps. We've been looking how to get you for almost getting us in trouble over our brawls, but I've overheard that you'd like to join a club. Wanna mingle with us simple people for once, ain't that right?" the broad-shouldered razor-mouth taunted Recoome again.
"Indeed, though I've never partaken in sports. I'm not sure about the specific activity I wish to devote my time for," Recoome answered, sinking deep into thought by pressing his index to his lip and nearly drooling over it.
"Why don't you try Galactic Football? It's kind of our thing, you'd be lucky to have us show you the ropes and we'd be lucky to have someone with your moves on our team," the shark-person gave Recoome an encouraging gesture with his odd, interconnected stumps for fingers.
"I think it's a brilliant idea!" Recoome punched his open palm with a lower jaw sunken as deep down as his abdomen. "I've heard some memorable jingles on the television broadcasting the competition. The game must be an absolute joy to play!"
A sharp shriek halted Recoome in his boots, making all hair stand up over his arms, legs, and even the orange sprout on his head. The giant turned toward the enclosed section of the school's Galactic Football arena as he scratched the back of his head, wondering what he had done wrong. For all that he knew–he just bypassed all the opposing team's defenses and was about to drive the ball into the opposing gate.
"Have I brought dishonor to the court, esteemed physical educator?" Recoome pondered, returning momentarily to his social quirk out of confusion and stress.
"Couldn't have said it better myself, runt!" the round and cerulean-skinned coach grabbed his head with the upper pair of his four arms, the one that appeared the most like a tentacle as opposed to the lower pair that looked like regular, hairy arms with hands of three fingers. "What the heck are those moves!? Can you stop tip-tapping and prancing around for goddamn second!? You'll make us the laughingstock of the entire universe if I let you out to play moving like this."
"But, Sir, I must admit I am perturbed by your outlandish request. I merely move as any educated gentleman does, the ways of uneducated savage are alien to me and I scoff at the very accusation that I can roughhouse people like my fellow teammates here," Recoome bumped his chest with his fist a few times.
"Look, coach, he moves like a sissy but he packs a wallop. I'm telling you, he could make short work of all of us in a fight, he almost has," the shark-like brute made his case for Recoome but the offended, tall gentleman turned his nose up.
"Do not bother, Relmack, I am aware when I am unwanted. This fiasco of motion bigotry is certainly not how I had expected this fine evening to go and because of this crudeness, I am afraid that I must big you all adieu!" the orange-haired Adonis turned his scowling expression aside and strut off the field like a model working the podium.
"That's right, get the heck outta my arena, you wuss! Why don't I recommend you to the cheerleading squad, you cream puff!" Recoome could hear the coach hurling husky insults his way his entire way back to the dressing room where the titan of flesh and muscle collapsed on the bench and sunk his face inside his broad hands hard enough to smother himself. The masculine behemoth only got dressed after his hands had soaked enough, and he found it revolting to smother himself in stains of his own tears.
A catchy and pink advertisement board caught Recoome's eye on his trip back home. Immediately the young man rushed to the driver of the public space vessel transporter to stop and let him out. Despite all the improper for a fine gentleman pink and glitter, all the colorful stars decorating the advertisement of shifting pictures on the neon board, the moves, the pirouettes, the cabrioles were just sublime. In these flashy movements, Recoome recognized the grand elegance of his own day-to-day grind that remained unappreciated and even loathed, as proven that day.
Young Recoome felt simply obliged to enter the hall of crystalline materials, decorated with different colored tiles for each wing of the building. Despite still feeling alien to the culture of pink, strips, and ribbons, also those odd-looking shoes, young Recoome wanted someone to reward and notice his gentlemanly elegance. At this point, it did not even matter that it wouldn't be at a school club, but an entire school devoted to this ornate dancing art.
"Greetings, apprentices in the path of promenade, I am Recoome and I felt like I had to infiltrate this society of yours after witnessing the majesty of your achievements on display. You showcase them with the pride they deserve and for that, I not only salute you but request to join your league of frolic!" Recoome introduced himself once the assortment of female aliens, hermaphrodite species, and feminine looking males halted at once with a gasp at the sight of him.
"Hmm…" an aged, humanoid matriarch of the ballet hall approached Recoome and examined his body. "You are coarse, cumbersome, but you appear to move with economy, purpose, and grace. Just try to duplicate Cindaria's moves. If I like what I see, you can start tomorrow,"
Ballet was a mixed bag for Recoome. Even though he wasn't entirely sure about the outfit he had to slip into, all the pink and sparkly facade and bright lights of space ballet, the dancing itself was demanding in its intensity and required even one as elegant as Recoome to bolster his agility and flexibility. The flashy poses of the dance allowed him to express himself in a way he never before experienced, and most important of all, he felt appreciated for said expression.
Seeing his parents crying in joy, seeing the classmates that used to cringe and swallow their fists at the sight of him gasp and exclaim in shock at the sight of the complex and blitzing dance that decorated the facade of space and complemented the harmony of music like stitches of magenta on a fabric of electric blue, was an experience that Recoome would never forget as long as he lived. One of those things that made the struggles of life worth it.
Despite that, Recoome never truly saw himself on the grand stage. The place of a true gentleman was on the field of battle. While the sinewy titan took his sweet time dropping out of space ballet class, waiting for the perfect opportunity to enlist and postponing the paramount decision to where even Recoome wondered if he would muster up the will to finally do it, when he saw the advertisement for the Ginyu Special Squadron auditions–he knew he found his true calling.
"Are you sure, son? Are you absolutely certain that you aren't still playing the imbecile with this uncivilized craft of competition and warfare?" Recoome's father wondered while Recoome was busy packing his things to take the public spaceship transportation flying off to the space station where the auditions were to take place.
"Absolutely, father, the Squadron was everything I wanted to do in life–expressive posing and expression of self through the application of one's own sculpted physicality. Oh, but, father, I can hardly wait!" Recoome sang out in melody as he pranced with a massive bag of his belongings to the door leading out.
"Go then, head spaceward, young Recoome!" mother nodded, waving him off.