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| Sacred Rights; db 7 (complete) | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 17 2010, 12:37 PM (138 Views) | |
| AnotherOldGoten | Oct 17 2010, 12:37 PM Post #1 |
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Pig
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Goku strolled into a quiet Namekian town. There was nothing unusual about the place and everything seemed to go just as smoothly as the other countless alien villages that he had visited. He was looking for the last and final dragon ball, and if found would be the seventh one in his collection. So, he wanted to be as careful as he possibly could and not just blaze in a rip apart everything. He knew that the ball was in the vicinity, but figured that a little bit of patience would lure out the mystical sphere of the dragon. The casually walking Saiyan waved and nodded at a few of the native people. They all smiled and waved back before continuing on doing whatever it was that they were doing. “Such a peaceful people,” remarked the young Saiyan inside his cloud filled head, “and magical too.” None of them seemed to stare at the child like had been the case, so many villages before. In fact, it seemed that the native’s, all around the planet, hade come to like the small Hybrid boy from Earth. Since he had been traveling all morning, and hadn’t had anything to eat or drink yet, you Goku-san decided to stop in at the local pub for a drink and hopefully something to eat. It was rare to find edible food on such a planet as Namek--a planet that was inhabited by the strange green aliens, who never required food, and only ingested liquids. Sometime though, sometimes, the young hero was able to stop in at a village that would have food to accommodate guests such as himself, and he hoped it would be the case for the bar that he was entering. Upon his entrance, Goku could smell food! YES! It was enough to make his salivating jaw’s drip with gallons of runny saliva. His tiny, pointy nose held itself high in the air and followed the wafting aroma all the way over to the bar where he took a much needed seat upon a wooden bar stool. He gripped the hard, wooden countertop, of the bar, with both hands as he took a refreshing and deep inhalation, to suck up the delicious smell. WC: 370 |
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| AnotherOldGoten | Oct 17 2010, 12:43 PM Post #2 |
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Pig
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“Hiya kid,” said the barkeep, “what’ll ya have?” Junior sniffed a couple more times before answering, and held a goofy smile upon his face as if it was the first time that he had ever smelled food before. “Is that steak that I smell,” he asked, hoping the answer would be: “Yah, you want some?” The tender pinched his nose and scowled, “Yeah, it is! And it’s stinking up the place.” He then turned around and began wiping off the shelf that was directly behind him. “I told the cook, Calar, that we wouldn’t be having any outsiders today. Guess I was wrong.” Just then, a tiny green head poked out from the kitchen area. “Told you,” jested the cook with a big grin before he popped his head back around the corner. “Ah! I know, I know! You just stick to cooking and I’ll handle the guest Calar,” said the bar-man, turning back to the kid. “So, what will you have?” “Um, how about a tall glass of water and a giant plate of whatever is cooking,” exclaimed the boy, with the utmost excitement, slamming his fist down on the thick, lacquered bar-top. The bartender drew back with a smile then proceeded accordingly to fill the tiny Earthlings request. “Calar,” he shouted back to the kitchen, “whip me up a dish of that grilled mastodon. And quick too! I think this kid’s starving.” A white smile flashed across the green mans face that contrasted brilliantly against his placid green flesh. “Coming right up,” shouted the cook as he placed a giant dish of meat on the threshold of a small wooden window. “Alright,” shouted Goku ecstatically, eying the plate as the bar keep moved it from the window ledge to the bar top right in front of him. “Here you go,” said the server lightly as he set the plate then followed up by setting down a tall, perspiring glass of cold water. WC: 323 |
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| AnotherOldGoten | Oct 17 2010, 02:01 PM Post #3 |
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Pig
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As soon as the young Saiyan started in on the food, it was like a tornado hit the place. Every piece of food that didn’t work it’s way into tiny fighter’s mouth was hurled in every direction around his face. The bar keeper could believe such an appetite could come from such a small being. Even the cook was amazed. His bald green head was stuck out around the corner again and was laying his disbelieving eyes upon the strange visitor. Not only was it weird because they never ate, but even when they had hungry guest to attend to, none of them feasted like the kid that they were looking upon. Goku Junior had just finished up the plate, which had a heaping ten pounds of piled meat atop it, when small Namekian boy rushed in through the front door and made a bee line to the bar. The small green child was breathing heavily as if he just ran all the way from across the other side of the planet. Upon first glance it would appear as if he was a raging alcoholic, young and hooked and needing a strong drink, but his message would come to prove different. “Spectra,” exhaled the winded boy. “Whoa, slow down a bit,” replied the barman, “you can tell me all about it after you catch you’re breath.” Then sliding a glass water to the kid, much like the one that Goku Junior was gulping from, he said, “here, have a drink. You look thirsty.” “You could say that again,” Goku thought as he slurped down the cool, refreshing liquid, watching the panting boy intriguingly out of the corner of his eye.” The frantic boy shook his head and raised from his propped/bent over position. “It’s Elder Mandolin,” he cried before taking in a deep gulp of precious oxygen, “he has passed in his sleep!” Spectra, the barkeeper, shook quickly and straightened up from his relaxed posture. About the same time, Calar, the cook, rushed around from the kitchen. Those both seemed equally surprised, and at the same time spat, “Do what?!?” “So soon,” added Spectra right after. The boy only shook his head in response, then grabbed the closest stool and took a seat. Junior’s eyebrow’s were raised by the comment, but not nearly as much as they were after the next comment that he heard. “So, I guess Dingar is going to be his successor,” Calar said, looking to Spectra with a surprised but staring gaze. “He’s so young though. Should he really be in charge of protecting the dragon ball?” “No,” replied Spectra, “but tomorrow it will be given to him at the ceremony….. All we can do support him.” The saddened Namekians continued on with their conversation, but Goku was done listening. He had heard all that he needed to hear and was completely lost in his own thoughts. Finally, the seventh ball was going to be his, but first he would finish eating. “More please,” he said, well almost demanded, but with a nice, hearty grin. WC: 509 |
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| AnotherOldGoten | Oct 17 2010, 03:19 PM Post #4 |
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Pig
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The next day couldn’t have came soon enough. The whole night Goku Junior tossed and turned in his sleep thinking about the seventh dragon ball. Oh the anxiousness of it all. Would he really be able to collect them all? Where the stories true? Would he really be granted a wish? And, if so, how much power would he actually gain from the magical dragon, Parunga? Goku sprung from the bed he was rented at the local inn. It was a firm mattress that probably didn’t help his restless sleeping in the least bit. Anyways, today was the day that he was going to get the final dragon ball. All night he had thought up different scenario’s for the golden sphere’s capture, but none of them seemed to suffice him. Really, the only that he could come up with was a snatch-and-go plan. He supposed it would do just fine. Junior arrived early at the ceremony spot. He was not the first one there, but definitely one of the firsts. He took a seat at the base of a thin, blue tree and kicked back, waiting for the show to start up. He hoped that it would be soon because, unlike the Namekians, he had to eat and eat a lot. About thirty more minutes passed by before everyone finally showed up. In front of the crowd, on a small wooden platform was a casket, which contained the deceased Elder, a tall green man with a microphone, and the successor, who would have had no name, at least not to Goku’s knowledge, had it not been announced yesterday at the bar. Junior narrowed his eyes as he watched from a far. He didn’t care about the words they were speaking, though he did have some sort of respect for the dead. All that he was waiting for was the dragon ball to emerge. And, once it did, he would flash by, unnoticed, and snag it. After a long monologue by the speaker, a short, fat Namek waddled in from the left of the stage and proceeded forth with a clothed object in his hands. It was large and round and bulbous, and even though it’s true identity was being concealed, everyone, including Goku, knew what was under the veil. Goku dug his back foot into the ground, twisting it as it gripped. He eyes stayed locked and focused on the prized object, nothing would waiver his stare. His fingers flickered and wriggled down by his sides, loosening up for the predestined grab. Then, with one strong push, he was off, blurry and swift and undetectable. Giving his dramatized speed, which was so fast that none of the Namekian’s eyes would possibly be able to keep up, he reached to fat man and grabbed the ball. A violent wind was left in his wake that blew everyone about. In all of the commotion, the fat ball-bearer was hurtled off stage and left bewildered on his fat, bulging ass. Without any remorse, Goku split the seen. He was already miles away from the overturned village and was only a few miles away from the rest of the balls. He couldn’t help but smile, and smile big as he sped along. Finally his search was over. Finally he could make his wish. WC: 549 TWC: 1,751 |
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