Dragonball M, Chapter 1: Silent Menace Aproaches!

[Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki]

The distaste in Sarada's answer held an air of apprehension about it, uncharacteristically direct and lacking her usual boisterous confidence. How strange.

And so Ochazuke, for a moment, simply nod in acknowledgement, his expression muted.

Slave to arbitrary notions of victory as mercurial as the chaotic flow of battle itself, the one who can tolerate losing face the least is the one with the biggest head.

"Naturally, the strong," he reciprocated, "have nothing to fear."

Briefly, the corner of his mouth edged into a smirk.



"Cheh."

By contrast, Totoma's cloying, guarded response was a rhetorical feint. His momentary analysis of his own motivations made without inquiry, an empty congenial surface of propriety; Unexamined compliments thrown worse than limp-wristed strikes from the elbow.

A simple reductive base arrayed without independence. And he would call it altruism. Righteousness.

A hero's foundation built upon sand.



A man who cannot stand by his own intention, afraid of questions that might come.

The Saiyan way was indeed a paradigm tethered to half-measures.

"I wouldn't waste the effort," he replied, "someone else will have to decide for you, won't they?"

A man who drifts through life, so surrendered in this way is not alive. Sarada said it so often it may as well be branded on Totoma's face.

Meat.

That 'cheh' told him quite a bit. This Ochazuke fellow, at least to some extent, saw through him. To say that made Totoma uncomfortable would be an understatement. Still, he could just turn, leave, and that would be that.

And yet...

He was curious. He wanted to ask this man a question. Just one, and perhaps he'd humor him with a response. Probably not. He felt his hand shake, his heartbeat quicken, and a shiver run up his spine.

Fear?

He could merrily throw himself into battle, uncaring about the consequences. If he lived, then so be it. If he died... then so be it. A few people would be sad for a few months, and then he'd be forgotten. A mere footnote in the lives of those people.

And yet, despite this, he feared asking a mere question of a man who would likely not even "waste the effort" to answer? What harm was there in asking? At best, he'd receive an answer, and at worst, be disregarded. So then...

...

He was afraid of how the man might answer, of what that answer might force him to confront about himself. He was fine with where he was at the moment, but he was certain he'd reached the limit of what he could achieve on his own, in terms of figuring himself out. But...

He sighed, mentally steeling himself. He'd likely only have one chance, so he'd have to think of a good question.

"Mister Ochazuke, this may surprise you--or not--but I am actually a halfbreed. A mutt, as Sarada would put it. My father was an Earthling, like you, and I grew up here, mostly. I did visit my mother's homeworld a number of times, and it was..."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "...my kind are not treated well there. We are... mutts. Trash. Slaves."

Totoma paused again, and then added with a noticeable amount of resentment. "...meat."

"My Saiyan brethren say I am inferior... weak, pathetic, deserving only of scorn and enslavement. And those who know what Saiyans are like--myself included--would say that the Saiyan blood in me diminishes any positive I may have inherited from my Earthling father. Empathy, to give just one example."

"All that hatred and scorn directed at me when I was younger... I was like a mirror. I began to reflect that hatred back. To put it simply... I began to hate Saiyans. All saiyans."

He paused for a moment, shifting uncomfortably. "Even myself, I think. Though I have other reasons to hate myself, beyond that."

Like getting his mother killed, causing his loved ones so much trouble over the years, and other failings.

And finally, the question he'd been giving context for. And, perhaps, delaying a bit to work up the courage.

"...is there any way for me to move past that hatred? I thought I'd managed that, but the past two days have made it clear that I was wrong. Even being around that woman has made me irritable and moody."

That woman being Sarada. He could go from hot to cold back to hot and so on with her over the course of a few minutes, and, frankly, the emotional rollercoaster ride had already tired him out. Some of that was her touchiness, but still.

He exhaled sharply. "...I don't expect you to 'waste the effort' to answer, of course. Just thought I'd try to plumb your mind for answers... or at least hints. Miss every shot you don't take, after all."

That had been the hardest thing he'd done in years. If nothing else, getting a little of that off his chest made him feel a tiny bit better, even if Ochazuke didn't give a hoot.

[The Chou Lives]

: Chou tunes in to what was happening. Mr Stone face whontalked of power with him, was talking to Totoma. Poor Totoma, always seeking approval. He could have answered his question but he did not ask him. Oh no.:


: He knows of being hated, being rejected. He was born of a hate monster and to be kept in check he was crucified once. Just once. Remembers it vaguely and he did not die. No. He now goes into his capsule wallet and got his mask out.: Sent it to menacing tone. Cue Bane like voice.:

“ Well we are just having heart to heart. Aren’t we?” Deciding to butt out. Just mentally patching himself.:

[The Dog]

Was that it? She was expecting her to draw this out with more uncomfortable small talk, gradually circling around this very question. It was refreshing to get right to the point. "Fine," she agreed easily. She had no intention of doing that anyway. It was said out of extreme anger than any unwarranted malice.

Shiro blinked in surprise at that, wondering exactly why the violent woman was so quick to agree to not punch a hole through Midori's chest. Nodding, she said "Thank you Sarada. Though I must say I'm surprised you agreed so quickly."

"Organics seem to pride themselves in their lack of self understanding. The more I know about them, the more they know about themselves in turn. And they self repair with surprising efficiency."

"Be that as it may, they aren't exactly fond of being cut apart, regardless of the efficiency of their ability to 'self repair'." Midori explained.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

The old Namekian walked slowly through the city, and with every step, a small bit of power flecked off and floated into the sky like ash fro ma fire. Near invisible, he'd been slowly releasing the bits of power for well over an hour now, and he was almost ready. There was no way that Kami would ever sense what was happening, and by the time she did, well, it would be too late.

The old Kami, who slowly remembered being called Fife centuries ago, smiled slightly at the thought. He knew he was far weaker than he once had been, but he also knew Kami couldn't face him. Not with how she'd gained her position, what she had to sacrifice. Besides, she would soon be far too busy.

Another few steps, another few shreds of power leaked into the air and he continued on. He smiled at a few of the people walking by, even waved briefly at a small child, and for a moment he was brought back to a time when he protected these people. Loved them, did everything he could to protect them. He closes his eyes and his smile fades a bit as he recalls how after so many years, so many struggles, all he had had for his efforts was war, anger, and an absent thankfulness.

And a murdered master.

The guardian before him, his friend, lay dead at his feet, murdered by the same people he, and Fife, had protected. The old Namekian could still remember the looks on their faces when he came to their homes and killed them all in the name of revenge. He slowly opens his eyes, and looks around again, not seeing the current populace, but seeing again and again, at each street, those who had betrayed him and his master. His hands clench on his old, broken guardian's staff and for a simple moment, he reveals in what is about to happen.

"Skyfall."


For hours he had poured, slowly, inch by inch, his power into the sky, never enough to register on Kami's senses or anyone else's, but enough to slowly gather together into the atmosphere, hidden away. Still slaved to his will, his power, and answerable to his call. The technique was not to be used for direct combat, but with prep and planning, it could be used for hours, days or even months until released. He had once done such a thing for two weeks, and the havoc it rained down on the people of Ignis City had been enough to remove them from the history books.

Ki rained down on the city around him, never touching him, and where it touched destruction fell in its wake. People, buildings, the very city streets around him simply....disappeared in flashes of brutal yellow light. His eyes closed, he hummed a little to himself as his senses stretched out and felt every single energy signal in the city flicker and die. The ki rain tracked each person, so even those hiding in buildings were not safe. In a simple matter of moments, no longer than three minutes, 7,000 people and Anvil City were gone. Only a small patch around where Fife had stood remained, the rest all a ruined and burning slag heap.

Fife slowly lifted off the ground and glided away, knowing Kami would sense the destruction and come to investigate. She would stay a while, looking for survivors, trying to track him, all the while missing the real reason he had done this little showcase (his power was too infused in the ruin, she would never be able to sense where he was going). He flew low to the ground and reached the hidden entrance after a few minutes, flying into the small lake nestled near the peak of a mountain. he woudl find the temple he sought, and the ally inside, and Kami would never seen him, or her, coming.

[Sion Reaver]

That 'cheh' told him quite a bit. This Ochazuke fellow, at least to some extent, saw through him. To say that made Totoma uncomfortable would be an understatement. Still, he could just turn, leave, and that would be that.

And yet...

He was curious. He wanted to ask this man a question. Just one, and perhaps he'd humor him with a response. Probably not. He felt his hand shake, his heartbeat quicken, and a shiver run up his spine.

Fear?

He could merrily throw himself into battle, uncaring about the consequences. If he lived, then so be it. If he died... then so be it. A few people would be sad for a few months, and then he'd be forgotten. A mere footnote in the lives of those people.

And yet, despite this, he feared asking a mere question of a man who would likely not even "waste the effort" to answer? What harm was there in asking? At best, he'd receive an answer, and at worst, be disregarded. So then...

...

He was afraid of how the man might answer, of what that answer might force him to confront about himself. He was fine with where he was at the moment, but he was certain he'd reached the limit of what he could achieve on his own, in terms of figuring himself out. But...

He sighed, mentally steeling himself. He'd likely only have one chance, so he'd have to think of a good question.

"Mister Ochazuke, this may surprise you--or not--but I am actually a halfbreed. A mutt, as Sarada would put it. My father was an Earthling, like you, and I grew up here, mostly. I did visit my mother's homeworld a number of times, and it was..."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "...my kind are not treated well there. We are... mutts. Trash. Slaves."

Totoma paused again, and then added with a noticeable amount of resentment. "...meat."

"My Saiyan brethren say I am inferior... weak, pathetic, deserving only of scorn and enslavement. And those who know what Saiyans are like--myself included--would say that the Saiyan blood in me diminishes any positive I may have inherited from my Earthling father. Empathy, to give just one example."

"All that hatred and scorn directed at me when I was younger... I was like a mirror. I began to reflect that hatred back. To put it simply... I began to hate Saiyans. All saiyans."

He paused for a moment, shifting uncomfortably. "Even myself, I think. Though I have other reasons to hate myself, beyond that."

Like getting his mother killed, causing his loved ones so much trouble over the years, and other failings.

And finally, the question he'd been giving context for. And, perhaps, delaying a bit to work up the courage.

"...is there any way for me to move past that hatred? I thought I'd managed that, but the past two days have made it clear that I was wrong. Even being around that woman has made me irritable and moody."

That woman being Sarada. He could go from hot to cold back to hot and so on with her over the course of a few minutes, and, frankly, the emotional rollercoaster ride had already tired him out. Some of that was her touchiness, but still.

He exhaled sharply. "...I don't expect you to 'waste the effort' to answer, of course. Just thought I'd try to plumb your mind for answers... or at least hints. Miss every shot you don't take, after all."

That had been the hardest thing he'd done in years. If nothing else, getting a little of that off his chest made him feel a tiny bit better, even if Ochazuke didn't give a hoot.

The words from earlier from Ochazuke seemed a tad to sharp and cut into flesh wounds barely hidden in plain sight for the young woman's liking. Her instinct, her first one was to say something before the voice in her back of her head told her to hold it.

So she took a mental step back.

Karine knew the protective streak in her towards her loved ones was a mile wide, an trait that had greatly magnified due to certain instances in the past. Normally an admirable trait but she knew if left unchecked it could be smothering, even unwanted at the given time. Even if the blood of Sayains didn't run in Totoma's veins, she knew many young men had their own form of pride. The catch as with pretty much anything else was finding the proper balance, something she suspected was a learning experience with age and wisdom.

Her decision to take that step back and instead wait seemed to be partially at least the correct one. Totoma confided in the other man, something that surprised her. It wasn't like him to reveal the cards upside down for others to properly scrutinize and judge. Granted, it wasn't everything and there were secrets that even she wasn't aware of; the large scar she found when helping him in the healing tank told a story of its own without needing to say anything. The fact Totoma's past troubled him enough he hated himself of course bothered her, it was actually the first time her admitted openly to that fact. Why now? In front of a stranger no less?

The rest of the idle chatter to various degree's didn't interest her as much, which was a normal trait when she got pensive. When opporunity came, she'd speak. For now, she just listened.

So she waited.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Jinzi leads them all back to the arena, though he himself doesn't step into it.

"Now then, we saw how well you did against me. Let us see how you do against someone else, shall we."

A figure stands in the arena, looking like a blank automaton, motionless. As they gather, features begin to overlay and appear on the figure, until this person is now standing there.



Prominent on her chest is the silver badge indicating she is Galaxy Police.

the woman looks around, then spots Jinzi and smiles.

"Well well, seems the thingamabobber worked, ehh Pants?"

Jinzi shakes his head, but a smile tugs at his lips.

"Special Agent Miras Thane, always a pleasure. Thanks for doing this for me, I'll owe you one."

The women shrugs, still looking around.

"I was on break and bored. Just booked a Saiyan pirate stealing regen fluid. Netted me some off duty time and, well, you always make it worth my while."

Jinzi, blushing a bit at her flirting, clears his throat and motions towards the group.

"Agent Miras here has agreed to use my experimental long range polymorphic hard light construct to help train you all today. She's not really here, but the arena is simulating her physical body while her mind controls it. I have a meeting with President Grinthorn, so if you'll excuse me....."

Jinzi flees quickly, still blushing as Miras gives him a parting wink before turning her attention towards the group. Miras is tall, at least 6'3 or so, and her uniform does little to hide how pretty she is.

"Well then, Pants has left so now we can play. The body here can only mimic part of my power, so I'll be going easy on you all. Any questions before we begin?"

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

"Well then, Pants has left so now we can play. The body here can only mimic part of my power, so I'll be going easy on you all. Any questions before we begin?"

"If the body is destroyed, will any harm come to you?" The question from Ishtar was concise; speaking towards the potential outcome of the struggle to come.

[The Chou Lives]

“ Is all the training just us fighting you guys technological astral projections?” He spoke up in Bane voice. Not that he did not mind. Just the novelist is getting old and fast.:

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"If the body is destroyed, will any harm come to you?" The question from Ishtar was concise; speaking towards the potential outcome of the struggle to come.

"Nope!" she says with a smile and bounce in her step.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

“ Is all the training just us fighting you guys technological astral projections?” He spoke up in Bane voice. Not that he did not mind. Just the novelist is getting old and fast.:

"I haven't the foggiest. Pants needed some help and I'm the sub. Probably plans on something else for you all later on."

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

"Nope!" she says with a smile and bounce in her step.

"Then I wish you luck," Ishtar replied; before taking a step back.

Perhaps the others would rush in, perhaps more would attempt to obliterate the field before them. It mattered not, Ishtar did not intent to be shot in the back ... yet.

"I haven't the foggiest. Pants needed some help and I'm the sub. Probably plans on something else for you all later on."

"The man is a genius and a fool, yet I feel he means well. I would ask of you a question, once this ... test is concluded however."

[Cyke]

"Well then, Pants has left so now we can play. The body here can only mimic part of my power, so I'll be going easy on you all. Any questions before we begin?"

Zaofan quickly raised his hand. "Um, excuse me. I understand that Mr. Pantaloon is quite impressive, but... Galaxy Police?"

Only then after saying the words did Zaofan realize how absurd it sounded. Still, he pressed on.

"Agent, how do you know Mr. Pantaloon? How did you two meet? And how did he come to enlist your ...um... services?"

But then it also dawned upon the nomad -- he had explored so much of the Earth, but he wasn't satisfied, since there were still corners of the globe that he hadn't reached, including Turtle Island. If there were cultures he hasn't met yet, people he hasn't encountered, wonders both natural and manmade yet to be seen, dishes yet to be tried here on Earth, what if -- after this was all over, he could explore the spaceways? The great unknown? The final frontier? Just yesterday he was glad to be on a cruise ship!

"Does Mr. Pantaloon have a starship and how can I get onboard?"

[Sion Reaver]

Jinzi leads them all back to the arena, though he himself doesn't step into it.

"Now then, we saw how well you did against me. Let us see how you do against someone else, shall we."

A figure stands in the arena, looking like a blank automaton, motionless. As they gather, features begin to overlay and appear on the figure, until this person is now standing there.



Prominent on her chest is the silver badge indicating she is Galaxy Police.

the woman looks around, then spots Jinzi and smiles.

"Well well, seems the thingamabobber worked, ehh Pants?"

Jinzi shakes his head, but a smile tugs at his lips.

"Special Agent Miras Thane, always a pleasure. Thanks for doing this for me, I'll owe you one."

The women shrugs, still looking around.

"I was on break and bored. Just booked a Saiyan pirate stealing regen fluid. Netted me some off duty time and, well, you always make it worth my while."

Jinzi, blushing a bit at her flirting, clears his throat and motions towards the group.

"Agent Miras here has agreed to use my experimental long range polymorphic hard light construct to help train you all today. She's not really here, but the arena is simulating her physical body while her mind controls it. I have a meeting with President Grinthorn, so if you'll excuse me....."

Jinzi flees quickly, still blushing as Miras gives him a parting wink before turning her attention towards the group. Miras is tall, at least 6'3 or so, and her uniform does little to hide how pretty she is.

"Well then, Pants has left so now we can play. The body here can only mimic part of my power, so I'll be going easy on you all. Any questions before we begin?"

Karine knew she'd regret this.

She knew there was more important things to ask.

...But she asked anyway for reasons unknown.

"Um..just one. Why do you call them pants?" Karine asked, in a slight more timid then normal voice.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"Then I wish you luck," Ishtar replied; before taking a step back.

Perhaps the others would rush in, perhaps more would attempt to obliterate the field before them. It mattered not, Ishtar did not intent to be shot in the back ... yet.



"The man is a genius and a fool, yet I feel he means well. I would ask of you a question, once this ... test is concluded however."

“Yeah, that about sums up Pants alright. And yeah, afterward, we can chat.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

"A Saiyan pirate, huh? How ridiculous." She supposed not all of them were cut out to be world conquerors. Also, they likely weren't from Vocado, which was where the majority of the conquering Saiyans originated from.