SPECIAL: I'm Gonna Eat Your Myocardium!
"It was a Highborne, Ord. A NOBLE Highborne."
.
"Oh, don't go on like this is a surprise to you lad. We'd ALL seen this coming from miles away."
.
"... aw, what'm I sayin', you couldn't've." The older officer sighed, standing from their seat. "It's good this happened so early on for you. Now you know for a fact who can and can't pull strings, yeah? Puppet masters're way up there."
.
The officer put a stern, gentle palm on the young man's shoulder. "... I get it, mate. I get it. I'll give you today n' tomorrow to think things through. If you wanna jump ship in that time, it's fine. 'til then, Spaurk. Dismissed."
The senior left, the junior cop remaining seated as he left the room.
Time passed. The falling snow seemed to fall in slow motion, before abruptly stopping.
.
.
Spaurk jumped up with a scream and threw his seat, denting the wall.
"Me fuckin' paycheck…" he hissed as he covered a tight turn on a glacial serpentine road. The path lonesome, one he'd traveled over and over, he began to stew.
— A string of incidents had thrown Lower Yarg into a veiled panic. Townspeople would up and disappear come nightfall, without leaving even a body. It was initially brushed off as run-of-the-mill criminal activity, but Ord and the few on the case noted the scheduled nature of the disappearances, connecting them with frequent eyewitness reports of abnormal lights and the miniscule gaps of time between last sightings. The nails in the coffin consisted of three incidents: a hospitalized patient with withered limbs, a teenage patient with partial blindness, deafness and dementia, and chief among them, a fetus amongst leather hide and varied-color strings. The watch they'd been carrying on hand was 4 hours and 73 years late.
It was confirmed sorcery and, after a stakeout around the scheduled interval and a costly skirmish, they managed to bring down the suspect.
There was no trial. Jail in a heated room, and a chauffeur in a YPD uniform. Even cuffed, the power they held over "lowbournes" was rubbed into the wound. Before the end of the night, the suspect was bailed without charge, and YPD staff were assured he'd be taken care of.
That was the end of it.
His grip on the wheel began tightening to the point of deforming it. His foot slowly sank further down onto the pedal as the source of seemingly all evil loomed overhead, blocking all but the sparse, faint sunlight they allowed to shine through their shite civitatis.
Powerless — the word popped into being all over his mind like the patterns of a photon taking shape. Teeth grit and eyes furrowed the further he dwelled on the decisi-
The crackle from an off-shore glacier burst through the air like a cannon.
He jolted back to the present, just in time to witness his off-road detour as he-
"GEhh!"
Woke up.
What lingering adrenaline he had left was spent orientating himself at Mach Fuck; the pain, as a result, started from his neck and quickly spread up and down and all around. His movements slowed as a slow, anguished groan left him. Once he managed to force his eyes back open, he undid his seatbelt and fell to the ground, crawling through what was once his side window.
Ord got back to his feet, only to stumble backward to mourn his wrecked car. His back smacked a tree, as his hands clawed through his hair in an ever-tightening spasm, frantic eyes swallowing the sight in uncontrollable gulps.
Soon after, said tree violently shook about seven times, a profanity accompanying each shake. A nasty gash had torn through its trunk by the end. Ord's bloodied fists uncurled with shakes as he took an uneasy breath laced with icy air. He fumbled for his phone and tapped away.
"5 kilome… oh fuck off!" he groaned to himself. The sun was dying and there was no moon in sight, none significant enough to pierce the weak canopy of the sky city. He thought about calling a coworker.
He thought about asking convictionless scoundrels for help like they wouldn't deduct more of his pay and call him some variant of spastic.
With a bloody head and a harrumph, the young man set off.
The young man stopped in his tracks. What lay before him, washed ashore by the prior glacial calving, was something out of science fiction. It was akin to a metallic egg, frost spread across the cracked exterior and wet interior save for the imprinted padding of a seat. Within was the number "734" and a series of other small symbols that grew at varying rates. He stared befuddled for a few seconds before throwing hap-hazard reasoning at it.
"Hell're the cloud-huffin' bastards even doin' up there…" Ord shook his teetering head, took another lingering breath, and paused.
The forest was staring back at him.
The small "woods" sounds that he'd all but tuned out weren't there anymore. He couldn't figure out which specific one it was at that moment, but one of the bushes didn't seem right. He would've started second-guessing his intuition if his eyes didn't immediately lock with the bush that had growled at him.
A bear? A troll? A werewolf? He would've nervously laughed off the previous two if his gut weren't screaming "it's worse than a bear" at him over and over.
Any sudden movement and he'd be dead, Ord felt. So he slowly stepped off along the shore's crashing waves. As feared, the forest's gaze didn't leave him.
He subconsciously picked up pace, and he cursed himself, because the forest started rustling.
In a moment, he found himself in a stumbling sprint. The forest was keeping pace. He poured his everything into running faster and faster, only to finally trip upon his own strength-deficient legs. Breath erupting into the cold atmosphere like an active volcano, he cursed aloud, then noticed the rustling had stopped altogether. It had become the parting of wet dirt and rocks and sand, breaking under explosive weight.
He felt regret at not calling for his mates in the first place as certain death drew near.
As soon as he understood it, that regret turned into rage. Having accomplished nothing he'd set out to do, when he could've stayed out on the street and died just as uselessly.
He'd have the gall to regret not asking a bunch of cowards for help.
Ord snapped toward the source of that moment of regret and let out one last defiant, furious effort.
"HRAAA—!"
He came face to face with a woman. Her bared fangs were slowly hid behind a bewildered falling lip. She stared at him for a moment, and blankly for a few more. Her eyes rolled back, and she fell.
— whatever mythical beings laid in the forests, this one, he would've heard of if she were one. Muscular and toned, maybe half a head shorter than his own borderline-two meter height, scarred and pale as a ghost, a reddish-brown bonfire for a hairdo, the previously-acquainted dagger teeth, most of all… unearthly armor that seemed too barbaric and futuristic for humans all at once, and a stumped, bleeding tail that her hair threatened almost managed to conceal.
Still on an adrenaline retour, he dove down to check pulse. Faint, but there. She was cold to the touch, but nonetheless alive. Whatever her case was…
"(If there's a ghost's chance in Hell this is cloud-huffin' cunts' work…!)"
She was heavy, but outside of dragging her, he didn't have any other options. Ord checked his phone in a teeth-chattering stir and saw 1 kilometer. He steeled himself, slung the tailed woman over his shoulder, and hastily marched on home to the best of his dwindling ability.
The door swung open with a choir of heaving.
Ord set the woman on the old-timey couch. He ransacked his cupboard for a thermometer, checked her temperature, did a double take, and got to work.
Soon, she was out of her soaked armor and in a wool blanket beside a fireplace. As for the young man, he'd forced himself into scrubbing off the blood and grime, baptizing the wounds in liquid hellfire, and then got to forcibly downing a smoothie of iron-rich leftovers. His will done, he lowered himself in a controlled fall to the floor right in front of the couch, trying his best to finish his hasty elixir and not send it all over the wooden floorboards. With grit and a final raspy gasp, he succeeded against all odds and, spent from the immediate care, clocked out in a flash.
Spaurk stared at his reflection.
Morning light illuminated the marks across his face, beyond his disbelief. The tall cup he'd used for his iron refill was still lying across the ground… and he smelled it across his breath.
He'd just checked outside and, yes, as awful as it was, his car was gone.
The only discrepancy was the monkey girl's disappearance. That, he could most definitely chalk up to a dream or hallucination. Nothing was remotely real about the woman's existence.
Wiping down his face with another round of cold water, Spaurk stared back at his reflection and the naked monkey-tailed girl in the corner staring him down.
…
Ord slowed, but he was able to throw a reasoning behind it. He was still tired, after all, and had a rough night to say the least. The best course of action would be a check-up, and he'd been given a day from his office to think things over. He finished up, confirmed the hallucination with a third glance at the mirror, and left.
His body froze a millimeter before he could leave the door. A blur zoomed past before thudding onto the floor.
Ord snagged the pistol still on his hip, grabbed and loaded a magazine, and rounded the corner in a blink before immediately clamping his eyes shut.
"Gh-f'kn'-"
Uneasily prying a single eye open to keep track of her, backing up toward the fireplace and the blanket before it, Ord snatched it and made his way back over, weapon still trained on the tailed, ass-naked woman making a snarling effort to get back up.
"OY! YOU'S!" he barked after haphazardly tossing it over her, other hand snapping back onto the sparking weapon. "DON'T MOVE!" A black-eyed death glare shot in his direction before it could fully land.
"GRAAA—!" she roared before and after getting caught in the descending sheet of wool. "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL THAT SNEAKY BITCH THAT SENT ME HERE! I'LL KILL THIS ENTIRE FUCKIN' ROCK! I'LL KILL ALL YOU!" Somehow, the wool was eluding her frantic swipes. Ord would've lost a fight with an off-put giggle if she hadn't uprooted several floorboards in her struggle.
He shook the laughter out of his head and rehardened his face — something like that could definitely kill, if allowed. "(Well, she talks…)" he noted, his firearm beginning to lower as her enraged snarls became weak huffs and puffs, having cocooned herself in the duvet.
"... shit…" she croaked in a heaving, shivering fit, glaring at the wall before her scornful gaze shifted toward the man. "I'll tear your fuckin' heart out…"
It was strange. He'd never seen that glare before, and yet he'd felt it a thousand times.
"YOU'RE TRYIN'A POISON ME, AREN'T YOU!?"
Ord sighed, picked up a spoonful of beans, cooled it, and shoved it into his mouth. When he took it out, not a drop remained.
"That doesn' mean shit…!"
"L'right…" Ord flashed a sarcastic smile, leaving the pot and another spoon in front of her.
He watched her struggle toward it — to try it or knock it aside, he didn't know or care — and lifted a spoonful for her.
The woman growled in a way no human could. "Are you fucking serious!?"
" 'f it gets cold, it kills the point, doesn' it, twat?"
"I'll kill YOUR point…!" she growled before the spoon presented itself before her. The aroma hit her nose, instincts overwrote defiance, and she lunged at it. Almost as quickly, she released, embarrassed.
Ord tried to hide his chuckle. "We've all gotta be coddled one point or another, yeah?" He set the spoon down. "The more it happens now, the less it has to later-"
The woman snagged the spoon and practically funneled the stew into her bottomless maw until it was all gone.
"M-MORE!" she demanded with all the intimidation she could muster at the moment.
Ord looked in horror before making haste for the kitchen with a giddy laugh. " 'uckin' hell…"
Because he had no idea what she was, barring connection to an extraterrestrial conflict in 820 thanks to her armor, he avoided telling anyone or contacting any authority. No one knew he had a violent, sickly freeloader that ate his food and schemed to kill him every time he walked through his front door.
"Got a name then, twat?" Spaurk asked, his profile wrapped with red gauze as he studied standing orders, a week after first contact.
His acquaintance angrily stared up at him. She had the courtesy of wearing the sweater and pants he found for her, at least.
"Twat it is, hm? Suit yourself."
"Bekyatatsu."
"Aah, Becky then?"
Bekyatatsu hastily crunched her way up through sheer will just to strangle him.
Ord jumped back. "ALRIGHT, BEKYATATS', LOUD N' CLEAR."
"I'LL RIP YOUR DICK OFF, YOU EVER CALL ME THAT AGAIN!"
"RIGHT, RIGHT. Right." He caught his breath. "So why here? Why Earth?"
Bekyatatsu slowly sank to the ground again, followed all the while by a thinly-veiled breath of exhaustion. "I wouldn't be on this frozen shithole if I had any say in it. I was sent here."
Settling back in, but with a firmer guard, Ord focused more on her. "Sent here? Sent by what, who? From where?"
"Tch." Periodically shivering, she turned to her other side. "You ask too many fuckin' questions."
Ord sighed and took it on the chin as he retrieved the blanket. If nothing else, he'd been given a name for her. He decided it didn't matter much.
"Whaddo you have to gain from me?" asked Bekyatatsu, after another failed annihilation attempt. "Sell me? Get me on your side? Think I'd fuck you?"
"I'm not quite in the business of rolling with foul-smelling women who gun for my head first thing every mornin'," Spaurk bit back as he studied force orders. "Sorry to disappoint, mate."
"FUCK YOU, I'M NOT YOUR MATE!"
Spaurk chuckled bitterly. "Spot on, that."
"... answer me."
He shrugged. "Can't exactly release you into the wild, not in the sorry state you're in." There was a sudden shift in his eyes. "An' the dickheads in the city are liable to send you to wherever dingy lab or burn you on the spot, I don't even trust the bastards with the dogs they've got now…! Never mind someone like you."
For a moment, she saw it again. The same passionate spirit that made her stop in her tracks mid-kill for the first time in her life. Melancholy quickly buried it, and he returned to studies.
"... kh. So you're really doing this from the goodness of your heart, huh?" she mocked.
"'Course not."
"Then WHAT THE HELL IS IT?"
"If I left someone to die, knowin' full well I could've stopped it, I'd be even more annoyed with meself than I already am. All there is to it." He turned to her with a snide grin. " 'sides, when you're all big n' strong again, you can load up an' get gone far away from me!"
Bekyatatsu reciprocated his expression with a manic remix. "What makes you think I'll spare you once I get stronger!?"
He shrugged. "Once I'm gone, who'll fix you up that gruel you seem to like lots?"
"Ah-..." The irate space lady simmered hotter and hotter with every second. "I'LL JUST MAKE MY OWN!" She leapt up onto wobbly legs. "AND IT'LL BE A HUNDRED TIMES BETTER THAN WHATEVER YOUR SORRY ASS COULD THROW OUT IN A LIFETIME!"
She tried to sprint to the place where he'd prepared the dish, only for her shivering lower body to fail her. Her upper body wouldn't reach the floor.
"How's 'bout you figure out gettin' there first, mate?" Ord asked, catching her on a shoulder.
Before her face could get any warmer, the space woman took out his legs, forcing them both to the ground before her elbow hit him dead in the ribs. Ord made a noise humans don't normally make.
"I'M NOT YOUR FUCKIN' MATE!" She decried, rolling away from him with folded arms. "JUST… MAKE MORE, MAN!"
She watched, over her shoulder, Spaurk stumble onto his feet with a dazed laugh, before tumbling into the kitchen. A racket followed.
He'd come from the garage this time. At first, she thought he'd resorted to cowardice.
The sound of a punching bag being eviscerated drew her attention faster than any footstep or scent.
"LAZY, PIECE OF, FUCKING, STUPID, CLOUD-HUFFIN' CUNTS!"
Once again, that desperate anger presented itself. The exact same tone she'd heard that day was present in every word.
Crushed rock poured from where he'd struck, and the sight was enough to send him into a rage potent enough to tear the modified bag from its chain and chuck it through the garage door. He cursed again at the damage accrued, took time to calm himself, and left the door from once he came.
She stared, puzzled, until the front door unlocked. "Mh…!"
"What's a cloud-huffer?"
Spaurk stopped mid-bite. "Cloud-huffer, hell'd you learn that from? You don't need to know what a cloud-huffer is."
"Who cares? Answer!"
A low groan escaped him. "Self-righteous pricks that hog all the power, even hog the bloody sun, all to 'emselves, leave everyone else in squalor, and JOYRIDE with it down here where NO ONE can fight back whenever they BLOODY-WELL…" In the haze of his uncapped emotions, he almost smashed the table. His hands shook as he sat motionless, before lifelessly falling down. "... who cares, yeah? Who cares yeah right like who thE FUCK, cares?" He fell back into his chair, eyes pleading at the sky. " 'ckin no one. Christ, it's all fucked…"
"There are nobles here too, huh?"
Ord looked over half-dead.
Bekyatatsu avoided eye contact — his expression reminded her of one she'd seen in her own reflection, sent hurtling through space with no way of retorting.
"..." Ord gripped his face. "... one'em just took my mate. Got away with it."
"..." The space woman rolled away from him. "That sucks."
"... sucks? Woman widowed after 14 years, kids who'll never see their father again, killer waltzes away fine, an' that SUCKS?"
"..."
"Stunning fuckin' input as always, Ms. Bekyatats'." The human bolted up, sending the chair flying as he made for the garage once again. "Same time tomorrow, yeah? My suggestion? Maybe do your job this time an' DON'T miss my head, you fucking melon."
Not too long after, he got to work on the bag. She could hear his enraged grunts from where she lay.
How very Saiyan of him. She'd do the same, if she could.
Alone, as the man's grunts only grew fiercer, she reflected further.
Less than a month in the past, more than 100 years ago, she'd been a top Saiyan warrior. If sent to a mobilized planet at dawn, its population wouldn't see the sun set. Other saiyans came to fear her name, regardless of standing. She'd even caught the eye of the king.
Her lowly birth kept her from any higher caste, but she was still, in his eyes, mighty and valuable. That was what he said, anyway. She was fit to take his hand.
An elite sent alongside her had attacked as she entered her pod. A plot to take her out of the equation without direct confrontation, risking no face. She was left to cling to life in an enraged fit for a day, bleeding all the while. The last she remembered before losing consciousness was a peel in space — whether or not that was a hallucination or not, it was what she'd seen.
Now she struggled against what weak animals inhabited this 'Earth' – furred chaff no bigger than 20 feet now posed a challenge to her. It was heartbreakingly infuriating. She'd almost been content with living out what meager time she had left on a foreign planet's soil — sickly, angry, but still fighting. Living in spite, hapless to change her condition.
Only now was she privy to witnessing such a way of life second-hand. It looked stupid.
"Is this how you Earthlings get stronger?"
"GF- WOULD YOU KINDLY PISS OFF!?" Ord roared, taking out everything on the now-stationary bag. With a shout, he pulled back and prepared to lay a cross straight into it.
Bekyatatsu knocked the bag over by careening into it, and caught the fist on her way down.
Spaurk stepped back in a start, but the gripped fist kept him in place.
"Bags don't hit back, dumbass." Bekyatatsu stuck out her tongue. "You'll never surpass an elite at this rate."
"Oh come on, you aren't in any condit-" Ord cut himself off with a stern frown. "Forgot who I was talking to…"
The space lady released, raising a playful clawed hand. "You're gonna regret getting me 'big n' strong'…"
A girl had never looked at him in such a way before. He caught a blush that she seemed to notice, by how she chuckled.
She'd begun their soon-daily sparring with terrifying-quick explosive moves from stints of stillness, ones that tested his footwork to the extreme, lest he die.
As time went on, they both grew in strength; only, one grew by a considerably larger margin. She'd regained her ability to walk wholesale, and it became clear she'd begun toying with the man. He didn't mind. It was almost therapeutic, shutting off higher thought and falling to improving muscle memory, the only life on the line being his own. Also, it was fun.
It reached a point where her other surprise attacks stopped altogether — it amused her how on-edge he became as a result, and she started toying with him over it. It took months for him to begin easing up.
And then she'd throw a sneak-tackle on him and raise his guard once again. He made funny sounds when he was startled, with his odd, smooth accent.
A year, they would spend together.
"Are all humans… this strong…?" Bekyatatsu asked, carrying a few bruises in areas that'd send any heavyweight crashing onto the mat.
Ord struggled to catch his breath, shaking and lathered in bruises and cuts, but the "compliment" seemed to spur him up. "Lots weaker… a fair amount stronger… fun how quickly an international tournament teaches that to a bloke..."
Bekyatatsu smirked. "If that's true... maybe I'd have some issues conquering this planet after all, once I'm back to full power…"
"Wha-!"
She suddenly closed distance, slamming him against the wall hard enough to dent it.
Spaurk's senses returned, just fast enough for his fate to sink in. She held a claw-like grip over his heart.
— he enjoyed his time with her. He believed in what he'd done being right. He probably damned the world, but it was already damned anyway, right?
His apathy terrified him, angered him even. Those he'd slowly come to retrust and value were going to die. But he couldn't allow himself to regret it. He would not die twice.
"..." He lazily looked away. "Hell with it."
Bekyatatsu's smile grew delicate. She dragged his dreary ruby-red eyes back into her ebony gaze.
"... But you'll do."
They locked lips. Ord's hands slowly broke from their stupor, one sliding around her waist and the other, through her mane.
They briefly broke off.
"God, you need a fuckin' wash."
"Wash me yourself."
"You'd love that wouldn' you, pervert..."
"I'd loathe it..."
Relocking, they lowered.
Snuggled against him, she'd shared with him her tale on a whim.
"..." He didn't have the bleeding heart he knew he should. He couldn't help it. He knew Bekyatatsu, and not the millions she'd killed. Instead, he only asked a question.
"Would you do it again?"
She paused. She stopped herself before proudly proclaiming "Why not?"
How many worlds had an Ord? Someone who loved a being like him?
Her quiet anger toward this new indecisiveness, and the dwelling on the past that it brought, reached a boiling point. It tapered off as horror.
How many had weaklings that could face death like he could? Held his brash wit? The same breed of passion? His bizarre kindness?
She'd never know.
Remorse finally set upon the Saiyan warrior, leaving her in tears.
There was never a verbal answer, but the answer implied was good enough. He held her a bit tighter as, in time, they drifted off.
"Say 'Da da'!"
"Da'!"
Ord shook away his chuckle with a sigh. "No, no, Dina say 'Da da'!"
"Da'!"
He tucked his lips. It was like she was doing it on purpose. "Gets it from mum…" he muttered to himself, looking away with a dumb smile and a tear. He picked up the five-month old and blew a raspberry on her cheek, sparking a laugh from her.
"Oi!"
His head spun to the closed door, as did Dina's. "Mama!"
"Ghm…" Briefly reminded of Dina's blatant favoritism, Ord released the baby. "Go on, beat Da to the door!" he laughed, subconsciously taking on the epithet his daughter had given him over and over for over since she first started talking. Opening the door, Dina suddenly ran outside, forcing a double-take out of the man.
"Mama! Mama!" she exclaimed over and over, until her weak, stubby finally gave way. A larger, callous hand stopped her descent.
"Look at you, already walking!" she giggled weakly. "And your Da' never shaddap about human babies being pathetic weaklings!"
Ord folded his arms by the door. "She almost busted her 'ead wide open there, Becky."
Bekyatatsu single-handedly set her tearing-up baby back onto her feet, her other hand preoccupied with a giant, kelp-coated horse. "Eh, she's had worse!"
"I'm STAGGERINGLY aware'a that, love…!"
The warrior woman dropped the monstrous equine, and the head-scarred baby immediately took out her frustration on it like a proper Saiyan. "You can cook that up before Dina eats it all, right Oi?" she chuckled, approaching the ruby-eyed man; however, her own legs suddenly buckled.
"Hey!" Ord lunged forward and caught her before she could hit the ground.
Despite the fall, and her heaving, Bekyatatsu held a smile. "Man…" she moaned.
"... I got that promotion, love." He sounded assured. "We'll be able to move closer to the city. Just a bit longer."
"Yeah, yeah…" She sounded accepting, even as she rubbed at her heart from outside her sweater. "I thought you liked it here…"
Ord took it as a joke. "I'm sure I like you more, Becky… home's practically comin' down, regardless! Me old man'd kill me if he could see the place today!"
"Mh…" Bekyatatsu looked over to her daughter, still witlessly gnawing at her defeated foe. She took a strong, shaky breath, and used Spaurk as a support to stand back up. "I'm not scared. I mean, kind of, but…"
"Shouldn't be, you'll be fine. We'll move, right?"
Bekyatatsu rolled her eyes. "... make sure Dina's strong. And make sure she kicks noble ass. That's your passion, too."
Ord's expression shifted, but he rushed to assure himself. " 'Course I will, I mean-"
"Without me, dumbass…!" she giggled, pushing his shoulder — her playful shove knocked him back a few steps. "I don't think she'd even remember me." She stretched. "So I can at least do my part, make her strong like a Saiyan…"
The ruby-eyed man stepped forward to stop her. "Hold on-"
Bekyatatsu smiled.
"So make her strong like you, once I'm gone."
Ord stopped as his hand caught her shoulder. His vision blurred.
— the physician gave her four months. He needed five for enough money to move out, even with the supporting role Becky had played. It wasn't fair.
She snatched him into an embrace. "I get it, mate…"
An angry sniffle escaped him. Then another.
Looking over, immediately feeling jealous, a pouty Dina ran over to join the group hug. Bekyatatsu chuckled, and lifted her up so she could stop Da from any further face-leaking.
It worked.
"... I promise." Da gripped them both. "I'll do it. Count on it…!"
The Saiyan chuckled, assured, brushing away something in her eye. "That helps."
Dina didn't get it, but she felt challenged by her da'. So she tried hugging tighter.
"FUCK'S IT MATTER IF THERE'S THREE OF THEM!? I'LL STILL TEAR THE FUCKING SHITBAGS APART!"
"Kaz, we can just try another mission! Besides, you heard them, they called dibs… some time before we got here- hey, HEY!"
"HEY, RATCOCKS!"
As the two ended a row, a block away…
[ Self-Contained ED: DOGS – Tuned To A Different Station ]
"Huh?"
Peeping the commotion from afar, Dina caught a spontaneous tear. She stared at the collected tear, confused, until her eyes slowly filled with white. More tears began to stream.
"Oh my god…"
She sank to the ground, her soul crushed. "NO SODDIN' SHOT I'VE GOT ALLERGIES!" she exclaimed, having dropped her fried potatoes that she insisted on calling chips because Dina was Dina, as Devine cluelessly scratched her head. "THIS IS WHORESHIT, I HAD SUCH A GOOD THING GOIN' ON! DAMMIT IT ALL TO HE—LL!"
"Ah… what are alnergeese?"
Dina went for her collar in hysteria. "SHUT IT YOUS, THIS IS YOUR FAULT SOMEHOW! TOSSER! DICKHEAD! YOU'RE FIXIN' THIS IF IT'S THE LAST THIN' YOU DO, AM I CLEAR!?"
The day continued.
.
..
…
In spite of everything, within her heart, the daughter did not forget.
Yo! OP Here!
Yarg chapter dropped? Time to buss out the Utopia OSTs and vibe while I hate my life!
You don't see any in the chapter because they're long and 5 hours in drafts equals like 5 minutes here. It's also because the majority of the chapter was spent listening to Listen Not. Ye, Black Myth: Wukong came out. No time for me to play it, no, but I've been getting into it regardless because you've read this story... or at least skimmed through it, I dunno, we're all Dragon Ball fans... but even THAT should tell you, I'm all over that shit. Real good OSTs with it, and yeah, Listen Not was on non-stop while I was writing this tragic love story.
I fucking hate love stories now.
That's primarily because I gave myself I chapter (I capitalized "I" instead of just pressing 1... I genuinely had no intention of doing that but it works) to flesh out two motherfuckers (one literally fits this description) and make them fall in love. I did aight. I still hated it cus it took me a week and I expected 2 days at most. I am also coming to the conclusion that maybe it would've been better if I'd used this chapter to explore Yarg's history with magic, but at the same time, nah. Not really. This is legit something Selaine could probably whip up and something I could settle in two chapters as compared to how in the actual fuck Dina's dad got with a full-blooded saiyan around 850 when the saiyans got blown to hell over a hundred years earlier. In fact, I'll cover it right now:
"I discovered arcane arts thanks to a funny horn person's book!"
"Hurray! Let's make sure the viking blokes don't chop our FACKIN heads off and make sure they can't use it!"
"Wait, how do we distinguish between ourselves?"
"The curse comes pre-made with giving shitheads we don' like red eyes!
"Ah. Thaaat explains everything. Also magic efficiency and the curse both carry over genetically, right?"
"NO SHIT!"
Man. Life could've been so much easier if I'd just did that. But Dina's birth was just as much of a mystery as Tlatla, so I wanted to cover it in much the same manner. I love figuring shit out in OP Talks. It's whatever, we made it to 5.8k instead of a fucking novella. I'm swoozy with it.
Please don't mind the " '[x shortened lowercase word]" shit, I wanna see how it reads/feels. Because writing rn, it feels like it's the way I should be going about it. I don't fuggin know, I don't have any degrees, just two years and credits.
Oh. Wait. Quick puns:
Ord Spaurk: Pun on "Ordinary." Dina's father, ex-boxer and eventual inspector, currently working his way up the ranks to try and change something about his shithole called Yarg. His name was "Aamo" at a point, but I just found this name better. Fun Fact: Fought in the 48th Tenkaichi Budokai (Age 844), lost in the quarterfinals.
Bekyatatsu: Pun combining "Mekyabetsu," JP for Brussel Sprout, and "Tatsu," kun'yomi reading for Dragon in Japan. Dina's mother. Transported to Age 848 due to flux in spacetime (Yarg Magi: No Sense of Right or Wrong.) Heart complications due to hypothermia led to her early death, but not before picking up monster hunting for a short period. Formerly "Mekyatatsu," but I couldn't shorten it in a cute, non-jarring way. Fun fact: 8500 PL before getting launched into oblivion; same method of growing stronger that Bardock had. I.E. got her ass kicked by enemies stronger than her a lot, killed them and kept living by not being a bitch about it.
Next chapter: Battle For My Pride. End of Character Arcs. Holy shit.
That's about it. See ya.
Also FUCK YEAH I WORKED DOGS INTO THE FIC LES GOOO-