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Tenerlife Sea; Bra & Lysses PS
Topic Started: Aug 12 2014, 07:42 AM (2,319 Views)
Future Gohan
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New West City - Vesuvius - 8:00 PM[/align]
Lysses’ lips pursed together, drawing a thin line across his face as he examined himself in the mirror. It had been hard to convince Roland to help him find a suit, and it had been even harder to tame his typically wild hair into a manageable style. He had combed it over to cover the scar over his eye, which typically wouldn’t have been an issue had he not gone through the trouble of dressing himself up so fancily. Apparently, he was taking Bra out to dinner at Vesuvius. Adjusting the knot of his tie, Lysses tried to ignore the panging of nerves in his gut. He seemed to have done alright with the suit’s fitting, though it made his shoulders look a little slimmer than he’d have liked.

The suit itself was black, and although it wasn’t custom made, it certainly seemed to have been made for him. At the same time, he couldn’t say it felt comfortable. He felt more at home in a pair of combat pants and the flexarmor he usually wore. Unfortunately, such clothes were not quite befitting of a fine dining establishment. Hopefully, Bra hadn’t just been pulling his leg when she’d told him that they were going to dinner together. Or, rather, told him that he was taking her to dinner somewhere in West City. Had it not been for his contacts in the Protectorate, he wouldn’t even have been able to convey the location of their dinner date to her.

Then again, he couldn’t really blame her for being brief. She’d kissed him out of nowhere and kind of flustered the both of them as a result. He hadn’t seen it coming, she hadn’t seen it coming, it was a mutual unexpected event that had just kind of sort of happened to the both of them at the same time in a middle of a fight. His cheeks flushed just thinking about it. She’d meant to do that, right? From what he could tell, it was pretty unlike Bra to think things out in advance, which wasn’t exactly a bad thing seeing as he, himself, relied primarily on instinct.

Lysses turned away from the mirror and walked back into the main lobby of Vesuvius, where he’d been waiting for Bra for the last half hour. Admittedly, he’d arrived about a half hour early, but that was mostly to make sure that their reservation had been taken care of. He’d managed to snag a table at the literal last second, by violently elbowing another man through the glass entryway. Thankfully, they had no security cameras of the entryway, and hence could not prove any dirty allegations of excessive force or “class three assault.”

Hopefully Bra liked the suit. It seemed a little silly, but he’d spent a lot of time picking it out. It was jet black from head to toe, and clearly designer. He couldn’t imagine that she would take a liking to fancy clothes considering the fact that she typically walked around with a sword that was at least twice her size. She seemed more like a brawler than an elegant lady, and he kinda liked that. She was down to Earth, unlike the human girls that he’d met during his time in the city. All they seemed to care about was their clothes and the way their husbands’ suits would crinkle as they went through a spinning glass door.

He could already imagine her walking into Vesuvius with her sword, laughing at him for not bringing his halberd or something like that. His cheeks flushed, but Lysses didn’t move from his spot by the host’s podium. He had to calm his nerves before she arrived and saw him looking embarrassed. That simply wouldn’t do. She’d already seen him bleed, she didn’t need to see him blush.

He had no idea how formally she’d dress for the occasion. It was hard to picture Bra, who he usually saw in some kind of battle armor, showing up in a dress with her hair back. Was that what he was supposed to expect? The other girls in the restaurant seemed to be dressed that way.

Reluctantly, Lysses looked at the clock. It was almost 8:10.

She hadn’t wanted him to come pick her up, had she? He didn’t know where she lived. For all he knew, she lived on some giant ass warship. If she did, was he expected to pick her up with HIS giant ass warship? Walid had crashed his into some other planet-- well, technically, it’d been Roland’s-- in an extremely misguided attempt to pilot it.

He dropped his gaze to the doorway, feeling like a bundle of nerves.

Where was he supposed to find a huge ass spaceship on such short notice?

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[align=center]-After the Kiss-[/align]


What the fuck?

She had made it back to Roshi's House, carefully flying around the building and up into her visitor's room so her topless self wouldn't be seen. As she stood in the center of the room, sliding the armor over her shoulders and down over her torso, she seemed to stare into space. Everything in her mind, everything in her existence, was entirely focused on what she had just done.

Dinner? Wear something nice? What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

Before she could mentally provide an answer, the image of Lysses appeared in her head. His smirk, his stance and movement with a weapon, the way he had felt so close to her.

She shook her head violently and fell back onto her bed, groaning in exasperation. She had asked him out on a date, like a fucking teenager asking the captain of the football team out. She was pushing herself into an episode of Degrassi and she didn't even know what that meant! She cursed the programming in her mind, providing a legitimate analogy when she couldn't think of one. She cursed Lysses, for making her feel like a normal woman and not a cold-blooded warrior. She cursed the mysterious swordsman from the astral realm, who offered to teach her if she 'kept her nose clean. But most of all, she cursed herself for falling into these situations.

She stared at the ceiling for a long time, contemplating what to do. She could easily just stand him up. Explain the next time they met that she hadn't said what she said and that he was crazy. No, that'd make her sound crazy. She could feign sickness. No, she was a horrible actor; he'd see right through it. No, she simply had no choice.

She'd have to go into battle...with the human social protocol known as a 'date'.


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"I need to be pretty."

It was an odd announcement from the usually cold and malicious Bra, standing before the line of Roshi students with her cheeks brimming with redness. The vein in her forehead was throbbing, furious at her choice to ask the female students in front of her for help.

"Pretty?" One of them asked quizzically.

"....yes. Like...dressed up or whatever." She said, not daring to look them in the eyes.

"But you're the princess of the saiyans! Surely you can just get one of your many slaves to give you a pamper." One of the taller girls said, rolling her eyes. The comment drove the group of them to laugh heartily.

To say that Bra had been rough with these students would be...putting it mildly. She found the fact that most of them spent time on their phones or gossiping with one another useless and had no qualms about telling them so. And when they attempted to fight her, she was quick to knock them down a peg. In a normal high school, this might have made her the queen bee of the sisterhood and these girls would fall in under her as lackeys.

But these were martial artists and their pride as such would not allow them to bend as easily for the teal-haired girl that they considered a bully.

She bit back a growl and held back knocking the girl's teeth in. The ball was in their court and if she wanted to get anything from them, she had to take the shots they took on her. Her voice wavering, she spoke again. "Please." It was the first time the princess had used the word and it caused her blood to boil even uttering it. But she had to.

For him.

"I don't know how to do this...dating thing. I don't know how to use makeup and stuff. All I've ever known is fighting. I'm..." She practically hissed as the statement attempted to break through. "...the weakling when it comes to this. You...are better than me."

She let out a loud breath of air, as if the very notion of speaking the words had tired her out. But as she finally allowed herself to look at them, she could see that somewhere in her speech, she had gained some semblance of sympathy. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or embarrassed by their obvious emotional weakness.

"Yeah...okay Bra. We'll help you out." The first girl said, nodding slowly. "Just take it easy."

The taller girl sighed. "Alright, we'll take care of you. But remember this when you go trying to pick fights with us in the future, got it?"

Oh, I got it all right.


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[align=center]New West City - Vesuvius - 8:10 PM[/align]

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I feel like a clown.

She walked as gracefully as she could through the glass doors, her blood red dress swaying as she passed through. A man in a tuxedo held the door open for her, smiling at her and greeting her with a friendly "Evening ma'am". She had glanced at him and attempted to smile, forcing it more than feeling it. Either way, he didn't notice. She did catch him eyeing her behind as she passed by. It took every ounce of restraint she had to not kick him across the street.

No, this had to be right. She simply could not mess it up.

The damned girls at the island had taken their time with her, applying makeup to her face and having their way with her hair. They had pulled, primped and curled about as much as they could. Her bangs hung in front of her face in sharp triangles while the longer hair in the back had been curled and pulled to hang over her shoulders, held back by a black silk bow. And then, finally, got her into the dress. The strapless piece of clothing had been exquisite, hanging down by her knees with a skirt that had waves. And the chest had a white frill, complete with a black bow, that ran down to a black strip of fabric. It looked more like a corset than a fancy gala dress. But her...comrades, if she could call them such, had insisted she would look stunning in it. And as she looked in the mirror when the full project was complete, she had to admit they were right.

She spotted him almost immediately, hanging indiscreetly by the host's podium. Her cheeks almost immediately flushed and a small smile crept across her face, as the memory of what had transpired between them came floating up in her mind. She realized quickly how silly she looked and bit the grin back down.

She walked tentatively to him, like a woman with a full train attached to her clothing. She had no idea how to move with the frilly thing on her, afraid the slightest movement would tear it apart. And god forbid she would up topless in front of him again.

She stopped by his side and cleared her throat. "Hey..hi. Uh...yeah. So, you ready to...do this thing?" She said, stuttering over her words. As she finished her sentence, she brought her hand up and lightly fistbumped his shoulder. What compelled her to do such a thing even she did not know. But, embarrassed and unable to comprehend what else to do, she quickly slipped her arm through his.

"WE'RE READY TO BE SEATED!" She bellowed at the top of her lungs, so not only the host but the entire restaurant could hear.

It was going to be a long night.

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Lysses’ heart stopped as he caught Bra’s eyes, his throat dry and his breath caught in his dry throat. His gaze flickered up to the bow in her hair, which seemed to bounce as she approached, before dancing down to the rest of her ensemble. Her dress was a rich crimson, contrasting her hair and drawing out her natural color in a way that he would have called flattering. His hands reflexively moved to make sure his tie was straight, She smiled as she caught sight of him, prompting the blonde to smile back in reply in an attempt to signal that he was glad to see her without saying it. He had almost expected her to waltz into the restaurant in her combat armor, swinging the sword through the doorway.

Then, he would have felt silly for coming in a suit-- wait, did her smile just vanish?

He tried his best to drop his smile, quickly letting his hands come to rest at his sides while she made her approach. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to have smiled either-- or was she just nervous? He was supposed to be the Avatar of a God of instinct, how the hell couldn’t he tell? Lysses damn near choked at the thought that he’d been abandoned by his already unruly Patron at such a crucial time, but managed to hold it back and maintain his composure. Something told him that choking half to death on their first non-violent time together would be a bad thing.

She came to a stop at his side, clearing her throat audibly to get his attention. It came to his attention, at that moment more than others, that she was a lot shorter than he was. He didn’t mind; in fact, he liked that. She had certainly managed to clean up a lot better than he had, though, and for a moment he lamented the fact that he hadn’t managed to find anything fancier.

”Hey, hi, uh... Yeah, so, you ready to... do this thing?” stuttered Bra, punching Lysses in the shoulder.

After a half-second of Lysses’ half-stunned half-concerned silence, Bra hooked her arm with his. Lysses struggled to hide the thin smile that crept across his lips; he didn’t know if she’d made the gesture out of her own embarrassment or out of a need for some solidarity, but neither bothered him.

”WE’RE READY TO BE SEATED!””

The host jumped, knocking over and scattering some of the papers on his podium. He clearly hadn’t expected Bra to be so loud or demanding. He adjusted quickly, however, shooting Lysses a rather sassy glance in an attempt to shame him for his date’s behavior, even though he didn’t object to it. They’d already been waiting and the host knew of his reservation to begin with-- they should have been seated. Lysses nodded in response, speaking up with a shaky voice.

”Y-yeah, we-- we’re ready to be seated!”

He could hear the nervousness in his voice, but the host seemed to disregard it. The older man rolled his eyes and stepped around the podium, leading the couple to their table near the center of the dining room. While the host, whose nametag read Albert, put down the menus, Lysses pulled a chair out for Bra, almost snapping the back off of it on accident. The chairs themselves were rather fragile, and he, obviously, was not.

So far, things seemed to be going pretty smoothly. He’d managed to get Bra a chair, he’d managed to get a reservation, and he hadn’t yet broken anything.

He maneuvered around the host, giving him a quick pat on the back to reassure him that they would not be a difficult table to wait for-- and in his nervous haste managed to send him flying face first into the table. The man flailed on his way down, only to be knocked unconscious by the collision. Lysses, more sheepish than he’d ever been, quickly swallowed the fresh ball of saliva in his throat and shot a glance toward Bra. Had she seen that?

Well, of course she’d seen that. He just accidentally knocked out their host right in front of her. Lysses had to think fast.

”H-help! The host seems to have fallen and cannot get up!”

Lysses knelt to lift the man over his shoulders as a number of waiters quietly came to help, ignoring the quiet mumblings of the people around him. It was a longshot that Bra wouldn’t notice he was clearly deceiving the people around him, but regardless he flashed her as playful a smile as he could-- which came out looking like a horrifyingly excited grimace.

In a number of minutes, they managed to get the man out of the restaurant, and Lysses took his seat across from her, coughing to clear his throat and then nodding in her direction.

”So-- er, drinks?”

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Her sudden exclamation had caused their host to jump right out of his place, spraying papers from his podium all over the ground. The teenager was unamused, rolling her eyes at his weak resilience. It wasn't her fault that he wasn't ready for them. They should have laid out the red carpet for the couple and led them in straight away.

But people don't know who I am here...right. She figured out rather quickly. She saw the chastising look the human shot towards Lysses, as if she was some great inconvenience to the whole night. When she looked up at her date, he seemed uncaring for it. Maybe he truly didn't care? Or maybe he is so embarrassed he is trying to hide it? Her nerves jabbed at her and her body stiffened in response. They hadn't even sat down and this night was already shot to hell.

They made their way to their table, led by the begrudging host. Part of her wanted to grab him by the head and throw him out a window but she fought it back down. It helped that Lysses moved ahead and pulled her chair out for her. It was the smallest of motions, one that the girl would have expected on her home planet from her slaves. But here on Earth, on a real date with a boy, it softened the hardness and anger that lay in her heart. Her cheeks were rosy red and the smallest of smiles barely graced her lips. Was this what it was like to be normal?

Fully seated, she was suddenly surprised by a face slamming into their table. It had been the host's; an abrupt smack by Lysses had careened him forward and firmly planted his head into the piece of wooden furniture. The hit had rendered him completely unconscious and he slid down the side of the table slightly, his hands splayed over the table cloth child too tired to get up. Most women would have been surprised. Most women would have gasped and jumped up, worried that the night had just been completely ruined by her date.

Bra was not most women. And as Lysses' feigned innocence and tried to rectify the situation with quick-thinking deception, she couldn't help but giggle. Already she was feeling better about being here. The jackass had gotten what was coming to him and it had been her date's doing that caused it. The smile grew and she kept her eyes transfixed on her blond counterpart. Perhaps this night wasn't ruined after all.

Minutes later, they had taken the waiter out of the restaurant. Cries of "Albert!" and "Mr. C!" from the other waiters had fallen on comatose ears as they tried to rouse him. But her attention was completely on Lysses now and as he sat down, she leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice.

"I don't know if you meant to do that or not but thank you. Asshole had it coming." She said as sweetly as she could manage, which actually came out pretty sincere. She even surprised herself.

"Drinks sound incredible." She answered his question and a waiter was before them in a flash, either incredible at listening or incredible at timing. Perhaps the rest of the wait staff was on alert now that one of theirs had been taken out by the blond man in the suit and his date.

Either way, he was quick to bring up his notepad and smiled pleasantly at the couple. "Good evening to you both. Welcome to Vesuvius. I will be your waiter, Steven. Can I start you two out with some drinks? We have a fine Renaudin Bollinger on ice tonight along with..."

"Mead." She said, not bothering to look at the menu or him.

The man seemed confused. "Pardon me, ma'am. What was that again?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she looked up at him. "Mead. I would like some mead."

While mead was an exquisite and rare drink to find in the modern times Earth, it was the choice alcoholic beverage of the Saiyan Empire. It was consumed in large quantities by its fierce warriors and its brewing often consisted of many different fruits, honeys and spices from different planets.

But as said before, it was fairly rare. "I'm sorry ma'am but I don't believe we have that."

Her exasperation was obvious on her face and she had to will her forehead vein not to pop. Letting out her breath like smoke between her teeth, she focused her eyes back on him. She couldn't fill her stomach with the drink of her people, she would have to partake in the liquor of the humans. The programming in her mind quickly narrowed her choices down to one without her even having to think about it.

"Sazerac with a lemon peel, heavy on the green fairy." The words escaped her mouth before she could completely rationalize them. What the hell was that thing she just ordered? And what the fuck was the 'green fairy'?

These thoughts took her out of the moment long enough for Lysses to place his order and the waiter to walk away, grinning like a cat. She only watched him for a moment longer before returning her gaze to her date. She tried to clear her throat and return to her usual, abrasive self. But a tiny smile still played on her face as she spoke to him.

"You uh...you look nice. Clean cut suits you." They had a few moments to themselves. It was about time they actually learned a thing or two about one another.

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Lysses wiggled in his seat as he took it, looking sheepish. He hadn’t meant to knock the host, Albert, unconscious. Then again, he certainly seemed to be a little bit hostile to his date, so it was probably for the best that he’d managed to do it so discreetly. If he were lucky, the rest of the place would just assume Albert had collapsed of stress or something. The fact that he’d slammed his head onto a wooden table would probably help him forget the situation. Hopefully, it was all just something that went away and never bothered the pair of them again.

By the time their second waiter came around, Lysses had already put the incident out of his mind. He had examined the menu during Bra’s small talk, shooting her his attempt at a “yeah, I totally did that on purpose” smile. He hadn’t done it on purpose, but it’d been kind of hard to deny that Albert had deserved a good smacking to the ground/table. He wanted to say something about it, but the waiter’s rather timely arrival managed to interrupt him. The man’s arrival quickly shut down Lysses’ hopes that he would have been able to get a good drink recommendation from the restaurant itself.

”What the hell is a Renadeen bollingay?” muttered the blonde, face buried in the menu as he sought something that looked familiar to him. The only thing he recognized seemed to be whiskey-- which he assumed was the Earth equivalent of Space Whiskey. As Bra placed her order, Lysses folded the drink menu back onto the table and glanced up at Steven. He didn’t know what a Renadeen Bollingay was, but it sounded flowery. Whiskey was, no doubt, the best option for him.

“Mead, I would like some mead,” demanded Bra, plainly.

Lysses didn’t know they had mead. If he’d have known that, he’d have just gotten some mead. It was a pretty simple drink to prepare; some honey, ale, and the occasional fruit. Most bars on Zaun had it on request, and it flowed pretty freely in most of Laerys.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I don’t believe we have that...”

Oh, okay, so they didn’t have mead.

Lysses frowned, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he let Bra place her order for a “sahzerak” and put in his own order for a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He had never heard of whatever her drink was, but he’d seen some rather fruity drinks on the menu. Admittedly, he wasn’t sure whether or not the drink menu was even a menu. It seemed to just be a baseline of things that the house carried.

”I’ll take a whiskey, thanks. Bottle and glass included.”

Once the waiter had gone, Bra seemed to relax.

”You, uh... you look nice. Clean cut suits you.”

Lysses struggled not to blush, but straightened in his seat and fiddled with his hands. He wasn’t good at the whole complimenting-someone-on-anything-not-related-to-cutting-other-things-in-half thing. If they were fighting, he could have said something about the cut on her hook or the brute force behind her sword swings.

”You-- you too, I mean, what with the dress and the bow and all. I half expected you to come in here wearing your armor and drag me out for a spar,” he said, hand rubbing the back of his head.

”It was also pretty hard to get my hair to behave. I don’t know if your people-- I mean--”

Was that offensive? Oh, Gods.

”Like, for the Saiyans, I don’t know if it’s hard to tame their hair. I don’t know much about Saiyans; you’re the fourth I’ve ever met, after all-- but most people from my home planet have really difficult hair. Walid, a comrade of mine, his hair is this vibrant pink that just kind of juts out at all angles. Some of us are blessed with straighter hair, but it really depends where you’re from,” explained Lysses, talking quickly to salvage the “your people” comment.

”Your hair looks nice, though. Very pretty, blue.”

Was the blue thing a good compliment?

He hoped that the whiskey made it there soon. He doubted that he would manage to easily offend Bra, but he was still nervous. On Zaun, it wasn’t common for someone to “date.” It was common to just pick a person and do things together, but courtship was a lot different. Most of the time, you just picked someone from your community that you trusted and bonded together for a certain amount of time. Then, if you elected to, you had a ceremony performed and-- it was just a lot more simple.

”So,” he began, calming down a little. ”You’re a Saiyan, obviously, but what’s that like? It’s probably a pretty generic question, but all the Saiyans I’ve met have been pretty quiet. Some general, some Prince, and some other guy that I met the other day. Only one of them seemed willing to talk-- not counting you, of course. You talk well-- er, speak well-- you’re well.”

It was then that his face flushed. He was totally making an ass of himself. The whole thing was going to his head. He had to pretend like it was just a regular dinner with someone he was comfortable with. Just... he was just hanging out with Walid in a dress. That was it.

Lysses straightened and coughed to clear his throat. Hopefully, he wasn’t the only nervous one. Well, not hopefully, he didn’t want Bra to be nervous, but he hoped at the very least that his nerves didn’t show. His inexperience, however, seemed pretty self-evident.

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A whiskey man. She had to respect that.

Her compliment seemed to unwind him a bit and truthfully, it felt strange coming out of her mouth. She respected strength and that generally was focused on fights between people. This whole..getting to know one another outside of a sparring match was awkward. What did she say? Where did she focus? She had already noted his look, even though she preferred him in his battle gear. With his armor and his halberd...

She had to shake it off. If she didn't, she would have grabbed him and sent him flying out the window, just so they could get into a fight. Up to this point, he was her favorite person to have a bout with and that was only after one.

She cleared her throat. "Thanks...I had some of Roshi's students get me all...ready. I think I would have preferred to come here in my combat gear but I wanted...uh." She looked around nervously before staring straight down at the table cloth. "I wanted to look nice for...this..for..you."[/color]

Dear God, where the hell was her drink? Social lubricant was needed badly.

"Saiyan genes are a funny thing." She said, smiling softly. Her body seemed to relax as she spoke, feeling more comfortable with him by the second. "Whatever our hair is when we're born is how it will stay. It's a little different for ones that have both human and saiyan in them but sometimes that dominant trait can carry over to the child. Personally, my hair is a mess. The fact that the girls were able to get anything done with it is nothing short of a miracle."

She looked at him. "So I guess you could say our races are similar then. At least in that department." Gods, she had never noticed how bright his eyes shined. Maybe it was the dim light of the restaurant or just their natural beauty but she was almost entirely transfixed on them.

His question piqued her a bit, as it was a strange question to ask. Or was it? He explained that he had met a small amount of saiyans and clearly didn't know much about them. Bra was, at first, surprised by that. She believed everyone in the galaxy had knowledge of the warrior race. But it had to be possible that some had not.

His lack of knowledge on her race, it was cute. Or was it? Yes, it was. Stop worrying about this! Just...be yourself. Actually no, be the nicer version of yourself. If that even fucking exists.

She cleared her throat. "It's a rough and tumble kind of life. Saiyans are natural warriors, born and bred for battle. Our lifestyle mirrors this as well; our children are raised into sects based on our power levels. Higher power levels are destined to join the Army and become the hand of our king. Normal levels can join the army or join the limited group of scholars we have. They keep track of the records of the Empire, ensuring that our history is recorded safely for future generations. And those with weak power levels...well, they can be considered for the lowest class of soldiers or they're simply killed off at birth. The strong will prevail." The teenager had only spent a small amount of time around her race but the intimate knowledge of it came from the indoctrinated programming in her mind.

Her staring into his eyes had rendered her deaf to his comment about a 'prince' and even now the word seemed to have been unseen by her. She drew circles on the tablecloth with her finger lazily as she kept her focus on him. He was still a nervous wreck, she could see that easily. But something in her was beginning to settle, like the wildfire inside of her had been tamed. He was having that effect on her.

"What about you?" She asked. "I don't think I even know where you're from. Your aura isn't human, I know that much, even though you look the part. So tell me, Lysses of Phage." She said teasingly, making sure to get the name of his home right this time. As she finished speaking, her hand that was dilly-dallying moved slowly over for his in an attempt to grab and maybe even hold it...

"Here are your drinks!" The waiter said, placing the two orders down right in between her hand and his.

"Are you FUCKING serious?!"

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Lysses leaned forward with interest as she began to speak, and he quickly brought his hands together over his half of the table, forming a makeshift steeple with his fingers. Her description of the Saiyan Race made it sound brutal and unrelenting, which worried him a little bit. He could empathize, in a way, with being sorted based on strength, but not child in Alastor had ever been discarded simply because they were weak. For the most part, weak children became manual laborers or took other jobs that made for an easy living. It was not hard to find a job, so long as the person looking wasn’t a cripple. In such cases, their fates were typically situational.

Regardless of the harshness of her culture, he was starting to calm down a little. Her being at ease was bringing him down, in the good way, making it so that he could actually focus on the details of what she was saying. She seemed pretty well informed on it-- at least, more than he would have expected. Most people could give a brief overview of their culture, but it would have resulted in an awful lot of “uhms,” “uhs” and “ers.” To the contrary, Bra seemed as though she’d been waiting for him to ask. Perhaps she had, or perhaps she was just a quick girl.

When she finished her telling of her people’s background, Lysses leaned back a little, letting his hands rest naturally on the table.

Her question didn’t catch him off guard, but it was one that was hard to answer nonetheless. He knew a fair bit more about his own culture than Walid or Elric did, but for the most part, he was kind of a historical novice. It’d probably be best to just give her the basic overview. He’d been about to begin when the waiter arrived with their drinks.

”Ah, here we are!” he said, more enthusiastic for the whiskey than he was to see the waiter himself.

”Are you fucking serious?!”

Lysses’ hand slipped and almost spilled the already opened bottle of whiskey that he’d made a grab for. He wasn’t sure what’d caused the outburst, but he gave the waiter a nod and shooed him off with a gesture of the hand. Maybe Bra just didn’t like guys named Steven. Maybe Steven already knew Bra and was spying on them. There were any number of reasons that she might’ve been outraged by his arrival, but nothing sprang to mind immediately

”Now that he’s gone-- I have to commend you on your astute observational skills,” he said, pouring his liquor into the glass they’d given him. The whiskey seemed to be of the expensive variety; it looked and flowed like rich honey, but smelled of spice and alcohol. He hesitated to take a sip, choosing instead to elaborate on her question before taking his drink.

”I guess our cultures are a little different? My homeworld isn’t exactly... unified. It’s been at war with itself for a pretty long time, but to get to the point, your upbringing depends on what country you’re born in. The country I was born in is called Alastor, which is why you might hear some people call me ‘Lysses of Alastor’ instead of ‘Phage.”

He took a breath, and sipped at the glass of whiskey he’d been given. He’d expected a shot glass, not a drinking glass, but it worked. As the liquor slipped down his throat, an unfamiliar burn crept across his cheeks, followed by a sensation best compared to breathing fire. Whiskey was the devil’s brew, but it did its job and it did it well.

”Calling someone by the suffix they don’t prefer is like calling them by the wrong name in general, or, I guess, calling them by their mother’s name. I prefer Phage because it’s my home city, where I was born, and not the country I represent. I align more with them than the country as a whole, I guess. Community man, if that makes sense?”

He wasn’t sure if it did or not, but he went on regardless, having gotten near enough to the point he was trying to make.

”There are a few countries, and a few of them are at war with each other. I wouldn’t know much about the current state of affairs, but where I’m born, your career path is kind of determined based on the traits you show as a child. When you turn a certain age, you can opt to either enter the workforce, the arena, or the military. Most children choose between military or workforce, since they’re steady and plentiful, but those who choose the arena typically fight to decide who goes. Contestants of Alastor’s arena can be from anywhere, I suppose, but if you’re from Alastor you don’t have to pay an entry fee,” he explained, taking a larger, heartier drink at the memory.

”You do have to kill the others from your city that want entry, though. Age on Zaun is also a little different, actually. We go based on year instead of date in Alastor, but I think the only difference in ceremony is that we all celebrate our birthdays at one time. So, likewise, you sometimes end up fighting kids that’re younger or older than you are by a little ways.”

Lysses downed the rest of his drink and reached for the bottle to pour another, noting that the waiter had deigned to give them a minute to place their order. It was kinda a relief, because he hadn’t spent much time looking at the menu yet. He was also kind of nervous as to how Bra would take the whole “he’d kind of murdered a lot of people thing,” which he imagined would be hard for some people to take. He had mentioned it casually because of her heritage, but perhaps that wasn’t the proper thing to do.

”What can I say? I’m good at what I do,” finished the blonde with a faint smirk that betrayed his thoughts on the controversiality of his previous statements. He had been raised as a gladiator. Though he did not harm innocents, the people that he’d been matched with had all spilled just as much blood as he had, if not more. He had been a top class gladiator, and he’d actually just won his championship match when he’d been framed for assassinating an old, stodgy general.

”Is it wrong that I take pride in that?” he asked, as conversationally as possible. ”I mean, I’ve killed a LOT of people--”

The waiter dropped the tray he was carrying and went crashing into the table beyond theirs, clearly having overheard the statement, and sent a rather messy looking dish careening toward a woman and her fancy blouse.

She screamed.

Loudly.

His hand rested at center table.


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Bra
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Her loud explosion had surprised even her. It wasn't entirely that she was mad but more frustrated. She had made an attempt to connect with him, have some sort of physical contact that wasn't...utterly surprising and grandiose. All she was going to do was touch his hand, not grab him by his neck and practically rip his head off kissing him. That had been aggressive and she needed to work back up to that, not jump the gun. Gods was she over thinking this. She was so comfortable a second ago.

As the waiter placed their drinks, sheepishly looking at her in worry, she looked up at him "Sorry, that was...sorry." She mumbled, taking her drink and averting her eyes. Lysses was quick to shoo him away and she couldn't have been more appreciative. She was making an utter fool of herself again. Her cheeks were as red as the tablecloth under her elbows.

She made a grab for her drink and swallowed the entire thing in one gulp. It almost completely bypassed her taste buds and surged down her throat like a waterfall. It left a tingling feeling in her trachea, a pleasant one in her opinion. As her belly began to warm, she brought her arm above her head and prepared to toss the glass straight down into the ground. But alarms in her mind went off, warning her that such an act was not accepted on Earth. On Vegeta-sei, it was common practice that when a saiyan had finished his or her mead (She mentally grumbled about not having mead once more), they would toss the cup to the ground in an effort to shatter it. It was the highest compliment for the beverage while also a sign for the slaves to bring more.

She glanced at the small glass in hand. They drank mead right out of the bottle on her home planet. Here they gave her a small glass barely the size of her closed fist. Beggars can't be choosers, she guessed. She placed the tumbler back on the table and brought her attention back to him.

A home planet at war, stories of class assembly. He described it all in practiced detail and she found herself listening intently, truly interested. He said 'Zaun' and the way he used it, she could only conclude that that was his home planet's name. She personally had never heard of it and hearing it didn't trigger anything in her internal computer.For once, she was thankful for it. It gave her a rare opportunity to learn by listening.

He mentioned having to kill others and in all honesty, it didn't affect her. In the saiyaness' mind, it was rather common for people of their age to be killing others. Hell, she had seen him cut numerous amounts of namekians down when they were in battle together. But the mentioning of birthdays; that caught her attention.

"See on Vegeta-sei, birthdays can be a huge deal. Usually warriors are off fighting or conquering during their younger years so their day of birth carries no importance for them while their on their own. But when they eventually return home, the scholars have all the details of when you left the womb so your family and class is ready with open arms to receive you. Celebrations of birth are a right we deserve, since our culture is based on combat and many of us aren't believed to live long lives. We have to live for the time we have. Even the Third-Class citizens have large celebrations amongst their peers and you can imagine it only grows the higher ranking you are. I've heard tell of my father's return celebration and how grand it was. Even Overlord Luther came home for it. There were fighting pits, meat and mead for miles and even an attempted coup. Gods, I would have paid anything to have taken part." She said, somewhat dreamily as she recalled what she had heard during her time on Vegeta-sei. But there was a small sense of longing, as the daughter of the prince very much wished to meet her father and truly discover what entailed being a royal saiyan.

She couldn't help but return his smirk as he boasted about his talent. "I've seen. The way you handle your weapon is impressive. Your training is obvious but it's clean and subtle enough that it doesn't betray your movements. I've only been able to teach myself how to handle a weapon. Saiyan commanders in the army aren't high on the use of steel, opting to train those who would use their fists. Don't get me wrong; I have no problem pummeling some asshole into pulp but using Legacy..." She trailed off for a moment as she attempted to bring her thoughts to words. "It's the feeling of taming a wild object. A sword isn't part of your body naturally, created and forged by our imaginations. In that sense it...has a mind of its own. We have to wrangle it in, master it as we could a craft. I don't know, that probably sounds stupid." She said with laughter in her voice, hoping that she could simply laugh away the ridiculous notion.

To his question, she finally did reach over and touch the top of his hand and she let her cocky smirk soften into a warm smile. "There is nothing wrong with it, handsome. Truth be told, I butchered an entire laboratory of scientists with an old sword that had been mantled for years. And I take pride in that. So I don't think you have anything to worry about."

The waiter had clearly overheard their conversation and stumbled as the impact of their words hit him, causing him to fling a plate of food onto a wonderfully dressed women. In an instant, her glistening (and obviously expensive) blouse was covered in the sticky substance and all she could do to handle the situation was scream like a gutted pig. Bra sneered in her direction, clearly unimpressed with her offense at the misplaced meal being planted on her chest. It's just fucking food. Calm down, you crazy witch. she chastised internally.

Her hand stayed atop his as she looked back at him. "If you were so good at what you do on Zaun, why did you leave?"

As she waited for her answer, a replacement waiter was already hissing at Steven to clean up the mess while he tended his table. The tall man with a thin mustache took a deep breath as he moved to approach Bra and Lysses...

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LOL WRONG ACCOUNT. I'M JUST LIKE AIMEE.
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Future Gohan
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Lysses listened to her regale him with the tale of her father’s birthday with interest. He’d never really had a big birthday celebration, but he could understand why life would be important to a Saiyan. Like she’d said, it seemed like it’d be a mark of pride and power to survive for a long time. On Zaun, there was no reward for surviving, but age was generally respected. It was a good thing to survive, obviously, but for a myriad of different reasons. The blonde leaned forward in his seat as she spoke, nodding intently as his mind came back to her story. He couldn’t imagine such a big party.

She went on to talk about his skill with a weapon, to which he couldn’t help but smile in reply. He had to admit, he’d never given his skill much thought. He’d been trained by Roland and the armsmasters prior to and during his time in the arena. His knuckles bent while he imagined the feeling of his Halberd’s grip. There was something natural about swinging the thing around. It brought him relaxation and release to slice through the enemy with the broadside of his blade.

When she finished her discussion on weapons, he couldn’t help but suspect that she was laughing to avoid judgement on her opinion. Lysses’ smile briefly widened, as if in a vague attempt to validate her opinion on the subject, and he leaned back a little in his chair. He was feeling a lot more relaxed than he had before. She had transitioned the discussion onto a subject he felt comfortable with.

By the time she brought the conversation back to him, he had relaxed enough that he debated answering her question. Most of the time, he wouldn’t bring it up. Actually, most of the time people didn’t get to hear about his home planet at all. Humans didn’t seem to care, and the Protectorate didn’t need to know much about it. His fingers drummed along the edges of the table for a second before he once again adjusted in his seat and took another drink of his whiskey.

“Can I get you two anything?”

The waiter’s arrival damn near forced him to jump out of his seat, but Lysses managed to keep it down to a small start. He shook his head briefly and turned to the waiter.

Honestly, he hadn’t looked much over the menu. He’d glanced around for a few steaks and something to accompany them, but he didn’t really know what he wanted.

”Er, I’ll take a porterhouse and a wolfsteak, please. Near black, thanks.”

The waiter half smiled and turned to Bra, while Lysses went about folding his menu. He had heard tales of the famous Saiyan appetite, but he’d never seen it in action. He’d never actually eaten alongside a Saiyan, or many people. In the arena, food was delivered to the individual’s holding pen on a stone tray. Standards for the gladiators hadn’t exactly been high, naturally. However, it was a free series of meals, medical attention, showers and bathing areas... It was free living, so long as the person lived.

Lysses waited until their replacement waiter was gone to answer her question. This was, in part, because he needed time to think on how to answer it, and part because it would have been somewhat uncouth to answer it in front of a stranger.

”Have you ever heard of a group called the Planetary Trade Organization? I understand that they’ve got a pretty sizeable empire in this galaxy, but I’d understand if you haven’t. I hadn’t heard of them until they showed up at my doorstep,” began Lysses, pouring more whiskey into his glass. He’d already had a handful of shots. Four or five, it seemed like. So far, he only felt a slight burn in his cheeks and a bit of heat in his throat.

”To keep things brief, they forced me off of the world. I wasn’t as strong as I am now, at the time. I was maybe a twentieth of this strength, but determination does wonders for the body, so it’s not like most would know that. They started in a place called Gram, and then slowly spread their tendrils toward the other countries. The first step in their plan, or at least the first step I noticed, was that they had to get rid of people that would be dangerous to them.”

Lysses sniffed at the rim of his glass, inhaling the scent of the cinnamon flavored whiskey. It burned like hell going down his throat, but it did well to prevent his nerves. He didn’t typically drink. Did that matter in how effective the whiskey was? He didn’t know, but it didn’t really concern him much. From what he could guess, the anatomy of a human and the anatomy of a Zaun were fairly similar. If the Earth whiskey was as effective as it smelled, he’d be feeling something in a few more shots.

”All of the regional champions were removed from their arenas for various reasons. I was framed for the murder of a Laerysian general-- er, Laerys is another country on Zaun, for reference, allied with Alastor, which was mine-- point is, I was taken by the PTO for committing a war crime. I didn’t kill the man, obviously, but I guess that it didn’t end up mattering much. I don’t think they knew what I was, considering the fact that they haven’t sent more men to come after me than the ones I killed in my escape, but that’s not going to matter for a while.”

Lysses watched the liquor in his glass while he spoke, tone fluctuating between eerie calm and bitterly informative enthusiasm. He didn’t like talking about it, but perhaps it was for the best that Bra knew he was currently wanted for murder by the Planetary Trade. He doubted she’d care. Hopefully he was right about that.

”Now that that’s out of the way, I’ve got to ask-- is your father a general or something? If what you said is true, he’d have to be some kind of super elite to cause such a huge fuss. Hell, if I came back home right now, they’d just throw me in the stocks. Mind you, I’m pretty sure the Planetary Trade has control of my world now, but that’s really all irrelevant. I want to know more about you!”

He smiled, recalling Roland’s most useful tip for “how to be a totally cool guy on a date.”

“Ask about your date!”

It was, apparently, one of the most cardinal rules of dating someone. The more you got to know them, the more they wanted you to know. It was an ingenious rule of thumb, and Lysses could only hope that it would pay off. Then again, he had no idea how the rest of the night was going to go. Hopefully, well.

Hopefully he wouldn't tranc out or get pulled into the astral realm for a verbal spar with Bra's brother or anything.

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Bra
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The waiter approached them, deciding it was better to get their order and leave them be than to wait any longer. Bra had to admit that that was the better choice; she could already feel her stomach pounding on her in hunger, having smelled all the delicious smells the restaurant had to offer. But the ridiculous mustached man had looked to Lysses first instead of her, breaking dinner etiquette. Or at least that was what her mind told her. She frowned at the man, who seemed completely involved in her blond-haired date. Does he not see that he's here with me? This isn't bar, go pick up your own date, she thought with great prejudice. Then he finally turned to her, pen at the ready. She faked a smile that would have won an Oscar.

"I..." She stopped almost immediately, upon realization that she had no idea what Lysses could afford. He looked nice enough so he must have some good portion of zeni to spend but she also didn't want to overstep her boundaries. Wait a minute, she's a goddamned saiyan princess. She deserved a massive meal fit for a royal. Why shouldn't she order all the food she wants?

Because of him. She couldn't take advantage of him because she-

Never mind! She'll split the bill with him or offer to pay him back at some point. Maybe go easy on him in their next bout.

You could always go home w-

ENOUGH! She shook her head and looked back up at the man. "Two ten ounce Wagyu Kobe steaks, a Lobster Pecorino Frittata and two plates of your...'Fugu', whatever the hell that is. Keep the meats rare...or as rare as is legal on this planet. And three more of these fairy drinks." She said quickly, handing the menu to the man and then cutting him out of her attention. She didn't notice his sour look at her nor did she give a damn. She had asked Lysses a question and she was quite interested in his answer.

The Planetary Trade Organization. Even the name brought bile to her mouth. So much so that she quite literally spit to her side, sneering. Two of the women sitting next to them looked at the glob of saliva and then at the teal-haired girl, disgusted. Once again, she didn't give a damn about them. She listened intently to his story, wanting to know more of what that damned organization had done.

"The PTO is a vile organization; full of malefactors, thieves and cowards. They are the mortal enemy of the Saiyan Empire. We've sword to wipe them all out one by one like the mongrel bitches they are." She slammed her fist on the table, her anger surging through her now. Not only had that changeling-led dominion insulted the Empire by existing but now she learned that they had taken Lysses' planet like the monetary leeches they were. Her blood was boiling. But she took a deep breath, calming herself down long enough to listen to his story further.

In his spiel, he said something interesting. 'What he was'. That was a strange way of phrasing it. He was an arena champion, a survivor in a race that worshiped battle (The resemblance between her and him in that made him all the more attractive). Is that what he meant or was there something deeper about it? She wanted to ask but at the same time...she didn't want to insult him by doing so. Maybe it was some secret, one that helped him escape the PTO. She had to at least respect that. Not like she was ready to tell him she was bred in a tube for the first seventeen years of her life and had only been in the real world for less than a year.

The attention was back on her. "My father..." Gods, she had been wandering around this entire time boasting about her blood connection to the great prince but now she felt her mouth go dry. Was she ashamed? No, of course not. Maybe she was afraid of what he would think once he found out she was royalty. But if she hid it and he found out later one...

"My father is Prince Vegeta, the first-in-line for the throne of the Saiyan Empire. I'm...his daughter, born to him and a human woman named 'Bulma'." That much was fed to her through her programming, like a list being played right into her mind. "My grandfather is the current ruler of our Empire, King Vegeta. I have a brother and a half-sister from the future that was born to my father and another saiyan woman. But I've only met her and no one else. As far as I know, my immediate family doesn't even know I exist."

She swallowed hard. "Surprise?"

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Walid
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How long would it be until the planet Earth was back to the way it was before the War? The pink haired warrior Walid didn’t know, and wasn’t sure if he should continue to help them out. While it was the right thing to do, he wanted to one day return to his own home world and restore it back to the way it was. How could he do something like that if he was stuck on another planet, doing the same exact thing?

Just another hour and I should leave. I’m getting tired. Recently he had been using his might strength to help aid a small town just outside of West City. His duties mostly comprised of moving around logs for them to place down and rebuild homes. It seemed like an easy job to do, but after laying down the foundation for over a dozen buildings, the warrior was drenched in sweat.

He had just laid down another wooden beam when, his body quit on him. He fell face down into the ground. The people who were with him were shocked at Walid’s display. It wasn’t the fact that he fell after one that surprised him. It was because it took that many to bring him crumbling down. A main wearing blue overalls and a straw hat then approached the fallen warrior.

“You know you don’t have to help us anymore for the day,” he said in the most southern tone anyone could, “We’re gonna stop anyways. Go enjoy the rest of your day.” Walid looked up at the sky after the man spoke and grew angry. There wasn’t a bit of light anywhere above him. How could he possibly enjoy the rest of his day when it was night?

Normally the warrior would have gone off to Kami’s Lookout or his ship to go to bed, but he had another idea. He was hungry and didn’t want to take any food from the people he helped. Walid knew that West City had a variety of places he could go to, he hoped they didn’t cost an arm and a leg for something to eat. He was low on cash and unfortunately he had the appetite of a wildebeast.

As he walked down the streets of some place he didn’t know, he wondered what the rest of his group was up to. He hadn’t heard from any of them in a while other than Raphael. The Berserker was probably off training somewhere and if he hoped to stand a chance he knew that he needed to as well. Before he could though, the painful feeling in his gut told him he needed food.

“Alright who cares where I go now, I’d work as a busboy for a meal about now,” he muttered as he continued his search and then finally found a place. It had a sign that said “Vesuvius” on it and as each person walked in wearing suits, he realized it would be expensive. Despite all that though, he walked in anyways, with any luck he could work for his food if he needed to.

The pink haired warrior stumbled into the lobby of the restaurant and was immediately greeted by someone. He couldn’t hear what the person had told him though; the smell of cologne was irritating his nose and distracted him from everything. After he closed his nose, he was finally able to concentrate better.

“Table for one or two…?” the waiter asked repeatedly. Hearing that caused the warrior to look around to see if anyone was with him. It made him wonder if the person was blind, of course it would only be for one person? Unless there was someone waiting for him and Walid didn’t know.

“Just for me, I guess,” he replied back, “Unless you have someone waiting for me.” The waiter looked back at the warrior with a confused look and then led him to the main seating place where everyone was. Walid was just about to check out the scenery until he noticed someone. Sitting at a table with someone, was his rival, Lysses. The whole time he thought his comrade was just training.

I smell a plan. He walked over to his table that his waiter lead him to, pointed at something on the menu and went straight to his thoughts. If Lysses was at a place like Vesuvius, that could only mean one thing. He too was hungry from a hard day’s work! Finally a plate was brought to him and his plans to ruin his rival’s dinner began to fade away. All he could think of was getting something to eat.

He picked up his knife to try and cut his steak like he watched everyone else do, and noticed as it slid away from him. You’ve… You’ve got to be kidding me. He paid closer attention and saw that they were also using their fork to keep it in place. The warrior did that, and pushed with all of his might. He managed to cut his food but… his knife somehow struck a piece of glass that sat in the middle of his table.

He watched as it sailed across the room and managed to hit a rope on the other side of the room. It caused the rope to split and when it did, a chandelier from above came crumbling down. When it did, it landed on a long table that acted like a catapult and sent food flying through the air. The place went from a nice evening for most to a disaster as it started to rain spaghetti and desserts.

Just act cool, maybe no one knew it was because of you. Before he could have a chance to escape from the scene, he watched as eyes were on him. Some waiters were tapping their foot and husbands were staring at him with the intent of killing him.

“Haha so you’re going to think this is a really, really, funny story,” he began to say and noticed as a large man approached him. The warrior didn’t think that he was very strong since most earthlings were, but it was hard to ignore the fact that the guy’s hand was twice the size of Walid’s head. He didn’t know how he’d get himself into situations and wished he had ways to escape from them

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Bra
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Apparently her news had stunned him into utter silence.

She sat there for a moment longer, chewing at her lips as she tried to read his expression. Was he thinking? Was he excited? Was he shocked? Could he do one god damned thing to give her something?! Her annoyance flared slightly as her brows narrowed. He simply just sat there, staring back at her.

Like he wasn't even real.

"I mean. It's not a real big deal right now. As I said, they don't know I exist yet. I'm not a legitimate princess until my grandfather and father say so. So I'm really just...Bra right now." She said, shrugging and smiling in an attempt to ease some of the shock that had surely numbed him to this conversation.

Still nothing.

"Are you okay? Should...should I not have said anything? I feel like you're mad or confused or something. Just...say anything." She said, leaning forward slightly. For better or worse, she would get an answer from Lysses about his reaction. She needed to know, need to see if he understood and still felt the same as he did before. That is counting that he felt something previously. Oh god she was stuck in her head. She had to get out, keep conversing. Surely that would make everything make sense.

And that's when the rain started.

To be honest, it wasn't quite rain that came down. Rain was water that came from clouds and in fact that would have been just as strange to the saiyaness as what actually did happen. A heavy meatball crashed down on her head, plopping wetly right into the rift of her hair and the black ribbon. Then small strings of spaghetti began to smack against her dress and skin, painting red saucy lines against her form. And then, the topping of the massacre cake; the top of a cake slammed into her face with all its frosty goodness.

It fell into her lap with a loud plop. The entirety of her face was covered in the brown, chocolate frosting. She sat there for a moment, letting the realization of what had just happened hit her fully. Mixing in with the sudden alienation of her date, it boiled up into a furious and deadly force deep inside.

Her eyes snapped open, her blue eyes alight with her saiyan fury. She rose from the table with a calculated and calm movement, not even bothering to look at the blond man across the table. He didn't matter in this moment. For all she cared, he almost didn't even matter for the rest of the night. He had ignored her and now she had found something else to hold her attention. Granted it was punishing the poor fuck that had DARED ruin her evening out and made her look the fool.

She saw the gathering of people around the supposed culprit, a pink-haired fellow who looked absolutely dumb-founded. Or maybe it was just dumb. Definitely the latter given what he was about to undergo at her hands.

A large man was heading towards her target, intent on interrupting her retaliation. She walked right beside the large man and shoved him with all her might, sending him flying across the dining hall. He screamed as he went, breaking through the far wall with a thunderous crash. The entire building shook from the impact, causing the tables to quiver and the silverware to jingle. The crowd that had been glaring at the pink-haired man now stared in shock at the limp and unconscious form of the tossed man on the street outside, before they all turned to look at her.

She stood before the table, glaring furiously at the ruiner of her night. He didn't even look sorry. He looked confused to why all these people had gathered around him. Like it wasn't his fault.

Her teeth gnashing and baring, she quickly reached down to the table's edge and grabbed it. And then with another mighty feat of strength, she sent the table soaring through the ceiling. This particular table was lucky; it had been created out of some of the hardest wood on Earth so when it came in contact with the ceiling, the added strength behind it gave it enough force to punch a hole through the roof and sail off into the sky. Of course its life would come to an end when it came crashing down to the ground, but for just this tiny moment...it could fly.

But down in the restaurant, the teenager was staring daggers at the man. As she raised her hand up to face him, a small amount of ki energy began to swirl against her skin. She hissed at him.

"You better have a good fucking answer for what you just did."

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Walid
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What a mess anyone could get themselves in. Trouble always followed the pink haired warrior and usually it was by accident. It was true that he had planned on ruining the night for his comrade, but somehow did just that for everyone in the restaurant. Not only that, but it wasn’t even his fault! He was trying to enjoy a meal that he logged for all day and now he couldn’t even do that. While everyone was angry at him, he tried to come up with a way to escape.

Before he could do anything though, he watched as a female joined the fray. He first started to blush for some reason that he didn’t understand why, and then grew scared. Whoever they were sent one of the men flying. Normally it wouldn’t have been strange for him to see that on his planet, but he was on Earth. Someone with that kind of strength was powerful, and from the looks of her dress, he could tell that he was strapped in for the ride of his life.

As he watched her toss the table up like it was nothing at all, he gulped. Somehow, he knew he had to make his run otherwise he would die. It didn’t even help that they were a female. For some reason every time he fought one of them, he felt weird and resisted the urge. Please Brontos save me or something. He tried to pray to his god for guidance.

Instead of receiving any advice though, all he heard in his head from his patron was a chuckle. That really angered him because Brontos never helped him out of these sticky situations. He wanted to argue with his patron, but he knew that he couldn’t. All his thinking power had to go for an escape route. The lady then spoke and when she did, it sent shivers down his spine.

“Well you see…. it was an accident…” he began to speak, and then an idea finally hit him, “OH LOOK, A FLYING TABLE!” He pointed up towards the gaping hole that was caused by her, and then vanished from sight. The only thing that everyone else could see was a curtain that was behind the warrior moving to the right. Walid dashed off to the lobby as fast as he could and bumped into random people who were still watching over at the man who was sent flying.

That could be me next. He finally made it out onto the street and with the night sky; he thought that he’d be safe. Even though he knew that there would be tons of places for him to hide in the darkness, he couldn’t stop running. If he wanted to survive to see another day, he had to escape. He didn’t know who that person was, nor did he know if they were stronger than him. He didn’t want to risk the chances to find out.

After he ran a few blocks down, he decided to stop for some reason. His situation suddenly turned on a switch inside of his head. He wanted to resist the urge, but the blood coursing through his veins prevented him. That person wanted a fight with him, and what kind of warrior from Laerys would he be if he tried to escape his problems, especially if it was a fight.

He then turned back around from the direction he ran and stared down because he felt like she would most likely be there waiting for him. He then slowly started to walk back, clenching his fists to ready himself for a brawl. When onlookers saw both him and the man across the street, they started to flee. Being on a planet such as Earth they knew what was about to happen. There was going to be a battle between two people with powerful strength.

“I’m Walid of Laerys,” he said as if he was introducing himself for an arena brawl, “And I back down from no one.” It was true that he didn’t and honestly he wished that he had. If he never would have interfered with his friend’s battle between one of his land’s generals, then Wallus would still be alive. Despite all that, he was prepared.

The whole time while he waited for the girl to get to him, his patron spoke words into his head to tell him to maintain his control. Unfortunately for Brontos though, that was far too gone. There wasn’t anything that would make him stop. With that, the pink haired warrior dropped down in a stance, waiting for whoever it was to reach him.

WC: 773
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Bra
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"WELL?!"

She roared in the pink-haired man's face, her rage overflowing now. The dam had been broken that had held her in check and now she was in full destruction mode. That was clearly evident by her lack of compassion towards the man she had just sent through the restaurant.

He stuttered at first, claiming it was an accident. And in her right mind, Bra might have understood that and simply flayed him with her words. But this had been an important night, a SPECIAL night, for her and it had been ruined by this idiot's little event. Her fists seemed to tighten as he tried to use that as an excuse.

And then he ran.

He had tried to deceive her into looking at the table she had knowingly sent through the ceiling, but her blue eyes had been entirely focused on him. So when he disappeared, utilizing a speed teleport, she knew exactly what had happened. He obviously was some sort of martial artist; normal humans had no idea how to utilize their energy like that. So it had surprised her to see someone like that running.

And rightfully, she should give chase. But her pride swelled at his departure, causing her to believe that she had indeed won this fight. The man who had caused the trouble, the weasel that had ruined her date, had fled the fight like the coward he was and she had remained. A sly and wicked grin came across her face as she stared at the entrance.

"Serves you right, punk." She uttered softly before she turned away and prepared to head back to her table. And then she paused. Lysses hadn't moved at all, not even enough to look at where she had gone. Did he even care? He was dripping with spaghetti sauce and different chocolate assortments and he didn't even move. Maybe she should just leave? Maybe she had made herself far too much the fool to him. Staying would just be embarrassing.

The people around her began to point, scream and flee. Slowly she looked over her shoulder to see the pink-haired man returning, a fire burning in his eyes. "Well look who grew a pair." She said to him, turning around to face him completely.

He introduced himself as Walid. The name sounded familiar and indeed, Lysses had mentioned him by name and hair-color earlier in the evening. But her mind wasn't in a state where she could recall that. In fact, the name seemed aptly new to her. "I'd introduce myself but I doubt you'll remember it after I'm done slamming your head into the ground."

And then, she turned this awful night even worse.

She rocketed forward, her arms already poised and ready to strike. As she came within his proximity, they snapped forward in vicious strikes aimed to pulverize his face and send him reeling. She rightfully had no idea how well trained he was or how powerful he could truly be.

But at the same time, she didn't give a flying fuck. She just wanted to make him pay. For his mistakes, for the waiter's mistakes and especially for her own mistakes.

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Walid
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Right away there was a familiar scent in the air. Thanks to being in the wild, the warrior was able to acquire a keen sense of smell, or hearing. From what his nose told him, the person that he angered had to be a Saiyan. Most likely one that wasn’t a pure blooded one, but they definitely gave him that same feeling that Walid felt when he was around Chishan. Suddenly his excitement for a brawl grew.

Anyone who is a Saiyan is the perfect one to challenge myself. For awhile now, he felt like his own people were close cousins to those of the Saiyan Race. The people of Laerys enjoyed to fight, even for no reason at times. To his knowledge, those with tails from Planet Vegeta were the same. Win or lose, one thing was for certain. The pink haired warrior would enjoy the fight.

“Oh is that so,” he responded back, to the threat that his opponent had just dished out on him. It was good for him to see that she could taunt at the very least. Fighting wasn’t the same if the other didn’t smack talk. If they didn’t, it would just be boring.

Instantly after she spoke, he watched as she rushed forward to prepare an assault. He carefully paid a close attention to his opponent’s arms because from his past experiences, people chose to strike first with their fists. Either way he rose up from the ground and brought up his arms in attempt to block away all her strikes. At first, he thought that it would have been a simple task. He was wrong however.

Once he managed to shield himself from a couple strikes, one managed to graze his cheek. It caused the warrior to lose his balance and felt the full force behind her punch as it collided right where his nose was. Okay so you can’t judge a book by its cover. He had to admit, he thought that he would have prevailed from the start. That was not the case and it only fueled his will to fight even more.

“You’re not doing half bad,” he spoke as he rubbed away the blood that resulted after his opponent’s attack, “But you’ll have to do better than that!” He didn’t enjoy being a punching bag, so Walid knew that he needed to make a move. He didn’t want to let some stranger get the better of him. With all of his might behind his leg, he swung once, then twice to try and strike Bra’s face like she had tried to do to him.

[align=center]“Maybe you should take the fight to the air Walid. The ground is not safe for normal humans.”[/align]


When he was finished, he decided to make their fight airborne instead of the ground because of his patron’s words. He may have been in his fighting mode, but that didn’t distract him from the citizen’s safety. If so much as one person was injured in the process of their fight, he didn’t know if he could be able to live with himself. Walid shot upward like a rocket and waited for the Saiyan to meet back up with him.

“You guys might want to get out of here,” he said to people below who wanted nothing more than to watch the fight. The pink haired warrior understood their curiosity, but it wasn’t the time for that. As far as he was aware, his opponent and him had the power to level cities. It was in the Earthlings best interest to flee or risk their lives just to see a fight between two powerful beings.

WC: 609
TWC: 2,442
PSWC: 13,599
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Bra
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She had drawn blood. As she stood there, juxtaposed in her last stance from the punch, she couldn't help but grin just a bit.

She had gotten close enough to him to feel his energy. And she was honestly surprised; not only was this guy trained but he was stronger than her. Like...a lot stronger. Even when she had felt that, she hadn't paused though. No, her aggression was running at high volume and not even a speeding locomotive could have halted her assault. Okay so maybe that would have given her pause but that was entirely besides the point.

"Oh that's real scary coming from someone sporting a pink hairdo. Did you remember your frilly scarf when you came out to ruin my night?" She asked with the most sarcastic tone she could possibly manage. She brought her knuckles up to her mouth and gave them a lick, tasting the mixture of chocolate frosting a spaghetti. Or perhaps it was his blood, she wasn't entirely sure. But she figured it would at least weird him out enough to create an opening.

A costly mistake that ended up partly being a blessing.

Given the fact that her arm was already up, when his first kick came in it struck the solid form of her forearm. Her muscles hadn't been ready for the strike so when It hit true, the hard pain from it shot through her entire right side. She hissed between clenched teeth but kept her arm in position, more out of unexposed luck than will of person. As the second kick came in, she managed to shift her body slightly to the side and used her uplifted elbow to push it away from her body, feeling the attack scrape skin from her arm, particularly her wenis.

"Damnit, my wenis!" She exclaimed, the details of her exact injury echoing in her mind thanks to the programming. In truth, Bra had no fucking idea what the wenis was but for a small moment, she was enlightened. And it came at the cost of her pride, for any that were listening would surely mistake it for another word for another certain body part.

During her momentary lapse of judgment and grace, Walid took the time to take to the air. As she turned her head to look up at him, she glared with all the mighty fire of anger. He was trying to limit the amount of civilians in their way. Smart and something Bra might have done as well if she had given a care. With a loud burst of energy, she rocketed off the ground after him. But the energy she had released to propel herself shook the entirety of the restaurant, cracking its foundations. Even as she was chasing after him, the once beautiful restaurant was beginning to rumble and quake and crack.

It was only minutes from crashing down upon the innocent patrons. And Lysses. But she didn't care; her fists were snapping forward along with her kicks in an attempt to brutalize her target. While she was acting completely brutish and monstrous and absolutely intended to hurt him...

She couldn't help but feel a little bit of excitement from fighting him.

WC: 538
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TWC: 14,137
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Walid
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It finally struck the warrior on his head, he had ruined her night. He realized that he probably did that for a few others back at the restaurant but it bothered him more to know that he was fighting with one of them. As angry as she was at him, he suddenly had an idea. If she was a Saiyan, then she liked to fight. If that was the case, then he was going to try and make up for his accident by fighting her. That was the only way he thought he could.

He watched as she glared back at him, still with the fiery passion stare that he was starting to grow accustomed to and waited for her to reach him. Then as his opponent took to the air at tremendous speed, he noticed as the ground and building that they were eating at began to shake. There were cracks appearing around the restaurant and he couldn’t help but think that the people would be hurt in the process.

Before the warrior could do anything to help him though, his opponent had reached him and it wasn’t like he could pause the moment to rescue them. I told them to leave anyways; it’s their fault if they stay. As her fists went forward, and because his mind was focused on the innocent lives, there wasn’t anything he could do. He felt the full force behind the punches and then watched as she was aiming for a kick.

Shit I can’t get out of the way of that one. He rose up his arm as fast as he could and protected his body as the best he could from her kicks. One after another, he bounced back and forth from them. She was indeed much stronger than he first thought she would be. He didn’t know if she was stronger than him or close, but she was just enough to make the warrior realize he had to be serious. If not, his life would be in trouble.

“So I ruined your night,” he said with a grin as she finished her assault, “Maybe I can make up for it with this fight… after all you are a Saiyan aren’t you.” He didn’t want to make his plan known, but it more or less slipped out. Walid was caught up in the moment of guilt knowing that he did a bad thing by being responsible for probably the worst night of her life.

To make good on his words, the warrior first held his torso back and then felt as the fiery pits of hell bubbled in the back of his throat. His head then kicked back and when it did, a wave of fire expelled from his mouth. Using brute strength was starting to bore him so he wanted to mix things up. Walid had a feeling that he would soon regret what he just did though. Since he had no idea what his opponent was capable of, he didn’t know what kind of tricks she had up her sleeve.

It was fun to him to see what she had and that was what his mind was more focused on. To stride on the moment, the warrior then flew forward so that he would be at the end of his attack. He was going to a surprise attack and wondered if he would succeed. His arm was held forward and then appeared from the same flames that he had launched. Let’s see how she likes this. He was aiming for a strike and a surprise attack, if she had vanished from her spot though, he knew that it was all for nothing.

WC: 613
TWC: 3,055
PSWC: 14,750
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Bra
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Is he...courting me?

The saiyaness had very limited knowledge of the world, given that she had grown inside a test tube for the first seventeen years of her life. What spectacular moments of absolute clarity that she actually did have weren't brought on by her own mind but rather the corrupted indoctrination in her mind. She was to be raised as a hidden killer, able to blend in with the Saiyan Empire so she could bring it down from the inside. For that, she required knowledge of their customs and beliefs so she could truly fit in. While the technological treatment had expanded its teachings to her in many other departments as well, it was in this particular subject that it was truly solidified.

That was why when he offered to fight her as a means of making up for what he had done, it clicked in her head. In saiyan culture, there was no way to apologize. 'Sorry' was not a term that saiyans were used to saying, as they were born and bred warriors hell-bent on fighting and conquering. There was no time to be apologetic and those that were were considered weak. But the belief of repairing severed ties between relationships was still ingrained in them, for allies were rare to come by in a warrior's life. Most class mates were seen as competition and needed to be fought against to prove superiority. Only a handful were seen as equals.

So what can a saiyan warrior do when they've caused damage to their friend's trust? Well there was no better way to make up for any misguided efforts than to engage them in a fight. The thrill of battle was ever present in a saiyan's blood and engaging in a match with someone always released endorphins that could get them going, generally in a positive manner.

But it could also be used a means of courting. Strong males that wanted to prove their strength to their female desires would often challenge them in an effort to win their affections. On Earth, many wild beasts did this as well though the males fought one another for one female. No, the saiyans found it more honorable to engage the female straight forward. This proved the male's power to the female, thus making him a suitable mate, while also allowing the male to see the depths that the female's power was as well. It was no wonder the saiyans were seen as barbaric savages to the universe but to their own minds, it was the highest honor.

So as the pink-haired fellow offered reparations in the form of a battle, she was admittedly taken aback. On the one hand, she had come here with Lysses. The blond-haired man had been one of the only ones to strike a chord in her, bringing up emotions she never truly thought she had. Hell, he had been her first kiss. And for a time, they had been having a nice date...

But he had grown neutral to her and the night. And this fellow had burst into the picture, though rather rudely, to capture her entire attention. Granted it was through rage-filled lens she looked at him but she couldn't help but see that fighting was clearly something he enjoyed as well. He had run at first, maybe out of concern for the people around them. But she could see the true glint in his eyes now; the fire of his combative nature was burning wildly. It reminded her, even in the smallest sense, of her first meetings with Lysses.

As she soared at him for their violent vis-à-vis, he seemed a bit distracted by the restaurant down below. How noble of him...and foolish. He had little time to defend against her and was soon ransacked by her melee strikes, bouncing around like a boxing doll.

But he bounced back quickly, unleashing a torrent of flames upon her. Surprised, she could do nothing but throw her arm up and protect herself from the burning plume that surrounded her. Even through the fabric of her dress, she could feel her skin searing at flames. As the smoke began to billow off of her, she looked down at her arm. The entirety of her sleeve had been burned away, a crisp, blackened layer remaining where her dress had come down to her bicep. Dressed in food and burned; the girls back at Roshi's would not be pleased with the state she brought the dress back in.

Her eyes snapped up quickly to see him coming back in, pupils widening as he closed the gap in seconds. His fierce punch smashed into her stomach and she grunted as she force and the flames connected with her hard. She spun wildly backwards in the air, hissing through clenched teeth. Thrusting her arms out to the side, she stopped her wild flight. She glanced down at her stomach and saw her bare belly, a red mark across her skin. The dress had been incinerated even further, burning up to practically under her cleavage. Fierce blue eyes glared back at him.

And a grin came across her lips.

"C'mon, you're going to have to do better than that to get me outta this dress!" She called out as a deep teal and white ball of energy began to grow in the palm of her right hand, sparking and flashing as it grew. She slid a bit higher than him as she prepared her attack, the glimmering light flashing across her almost manic features.

"Murder Ball!" She screamed as she tossed it into the air above her head. And then, like an expert volleyball player delivering her ace serve, her other arm snapped up and bashed against it with its fist, sending the blast soaring down at him. It had gained some weight to it in the few seconds it had been charged; about the height of a normal human and nearly as wide as a defensive lineman. It descended down towards him, quick and precise. But she was no master; if he dodged, it would simply soar down towards the ground and crashed into the street below. The downside, of course, would be the explosion that would level nearly the entire corner of the road along with the quickly dissembling restaurant.

Oh well. It wasn't her concern. Walid had her full attention now.

WC: 1,070
BWC: 7,858
TWC: 15,820
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Walid
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He watched as his attack managed to reveal a few things that were starting to get to the pink haired warrior. The goal of his breath was to harm his opponent. The flames did managed to do just that, but, he felt like he gave her some sort of secret weapon to use on him. The last time he was fighting someone who was a different gender than himself, it didn’t go very well.

All while her attention was shot towards the warrior, Walid couldn’t help but stare at the tattered dress that he ruined. It wasn’t because he was guilty about ruining both his opponent’s night and dress. His eyes were suddenly stunned by the woman’s body. His eyes continued to scan around and then stopped right as he got to her chest. He quickly shook his head as he blushed and prepared himself for his opponent.

Walid didn’t know if she managed to catch him, nor did he want to know. She was already mad at him, he didn’t want to imagine what kind of hell she’d put him through if she knew that he was checking her out. He then heard her say something, something that completely caught him off guard. Crap I was caught, how can I do this. As that was going on, the patron that chose the pink haired warrior to be his Avatar shook his head in disappointment.

[align=center]“You can’t be serious Walid,” Brontos’s words boomed into his head, “Get it together or you won’t survive.”[/align]

Just as his patron finished speaking to him, he noticed what Brontos was talking about. He was completely distracted and didn’t see that his opponent was preparing for another attack. First he saw a bright flashing orb made out of a mixture of teal and white, then heard as his opponent muttered out something. From the name alone, he grew worried. It was almost as if she was trying to kill him.

Either way, the warrior didn’t have time to think. The attack was launched, and he was still baffled from earlier to move away from the ball of energy. Walid crossed his arms and then stood as still as one could in the air. Finally the large orb collided with his arms and kept pushing him backwards. Much to his surprise, he wasn’t strong enough and started to move down towards the ground. His legs plopped onto the ground as started to push it back.

Unfortunately for him, his strength wasn’t strong enough. Quickly his feet slid on the hard surface of the road until he pushed him into it. He felt the ground tearing at his ankles as he continued to slide backwards. Finally he was able to life the orb upward some, but it came with yet another surprise. It carried him upward until he collided with a building. A crater was soon formed where he crashed into the brick wall and behind the orb was the angriest stare Walid had ever given someone.

The pink haired warrior channeled his ki to his arms and then crossed them like a volleyball player would do. With all of his might, Walid thrust his arms upward and sent the air soaring back into the air. After it traveled a good bit into the air, an explosion took place that managed to light up the night sky and possibly gave some people a sight to see.

“I don’t know what it is about her,” he said as he jumped down to the street, “But I’m starting to like this girl more and more after each attack.” The Zaunite had to admit that he was a little disappointed when he got to Earth. He honestly didn’t think that there would be anyone to give him the challenged that he desired most. That however, was no longer the case.

Just so that he wouldn’t insult his opponent anymore, the pink haired warrior didn’t waste any time at all. He shot back into the air like a rocket, and causing more piece of debris to fall from the building that he crashed into. His right arm was held back until he was within range of his opponent, and then he went in for the strike. Walid first swung his arm once, and then twice. Once he was finished, he got closer to his opponent so that he could speak.

“Are sparks flying,” he said with a grin, “Or is it just me.” The warrior wasn’t sure if she would know that he was referring to the explosion in the sky and he honestly didn’t care. Quickly as he could, the warrior brought his leg up to try and hit his opponent again, and then his arms sprung forward again like a car engine’s pistol.

[align=center]“If anyone asks, I’m not you’re patron,” he heard Brontos say, most likely talking about his comment earlier.[/align]

WC: 812
TWC: 3,867
PSWC: 16,632
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Bra
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"He's strong but he isn't too bright." She said to herself as she watched her massive attack crash into the man, sinking him down towards the ground. He was distracted for some reason and that made her wonder if he was truly into this fight. Was his offer to battle simply his way of pitying her? Oh, if it was he was going to fucking pay for it!

But her eyes sparkled with revived vitality as he suddenly sent the orb soaring into the air, deflecting it away from himself and the buildings below. It soared into the night sky like a tiny teal moon before it burst, erupting out in a massive detonation. Crackling energy danced across the fabric of the evening and, for a moment, she felt the strangest sensation of awe.

Her eyes snapped back in time to see Walid charging her yet again, fire burning in his eyes. He was excited too; his thirst for battle was almost as strong as hers. She took note of that as his fists came in and crashed into her stomach, causing her body to buck and bend in pain. She had been right before; he was quite strong. Maybe even stronger than Lysses...

He said something that caused her breath to suddenly disappear. She wasn't sure what he was talking about when he mentioned 'sparks' or maybe she did? Was he talking about what was happening between them? This shared love for combat, their combined wills to win against one another? Was there something more in it than she originally thought and he was picking up on it? Gods, she had come here with another man! And now she found herself getting flustered by this other guy, one that had rudely crashed her date and pulled out the anger in her yet again.

She knocked away the incoming kick with a swipe of her arm and then pulled herself back, bobbing and weaving between the incoming strikes for her. He was strong but he wasn't much faster than her. And he was reckless, throwing his all at her in hopes of taking her out. She had been like this before. But fortunately masters and teachers had begun to refine the teenager's form and abilities.

"Things sure are heating up." She said with an equally wide grin. And as her pearly white teeth parted, a plume of blue and black flames erupted out of her gullet and spewed forth, hoping to engulf the pink-haired warrior.

And as if that wasn't enough, her energy suddenly ignited underneath her and launched her forward like a bullet leaving a gun, aiming to crash into his stomach and send the both of them through the walls of the closest building.

WC: 458
BWC: 8,316
TWC: 17,090
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Walid
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It was a very impression feat that the warrior noticed as his kick was heading for his opponent. Ever since their fight began, he wondered who was stronger. He didn’t quite know the answer for that just yet, but one thing was certain. Walid felt like his opponent was more experienced than he first thought. She had quick reflexes that one couldn’t be born with. No, to have the graceful quickness that she was displaying, one had to train.

Then suddenly words were said that completely caused the pink haired warrior to lose focus for the fight. Part of Walid thought that his opponent was talking about their little brawl. Another part of him however, felt that there was another reason for her words. His head felt like it was on fire, but he didn’t prepare his fire breath yet. What… What is this feeling? The warrior wanted to know, but by his patron’s little snicker in his head; he knew that he wouldn’t get the answer from Brontos.

Because his mind was place solely on his thoughts, he didn’t realize his opponent’s attack in time. Shit. First the warrior moved as if he was about to get out of the way. A few milliseconds later, his body disappeared into a blur and he had successfully gotten himself out of the way in time. He thought that he was safe from harm’s way, but unfortunately for him, his opponent wasn’t about to let him get away that easily.

Right as he wiped away the sweat from his forehead, he noticed as his opponent was about to crash into him. His senses told him to get out of the way, but his body wouldn’t operate in time. Walid did the only thing that he could do, and that was to cross his arms. His body moved backwards as she collided with his arms and then the pink haired warrior tried to move his head back to see what lied behind him.

Due to the wind resistance it took him a while to do so. When he finally could though, he saw that there was a building. At first the pink haired warrior wanted to be worried about just himself, but then realized that they both were heading towards it. Walid then moved his arms so that they weren’t protecting his body and tried to wrap them around his opponent.

He thought that she probably would have fought back, but his aim was to make sure that she wasn’t injured. Even though she was strong and probably could hold her own against a crash collision with a concrete structure. The warrior was just reacting to his protective instincts. Whether or not if he was successful, his body went through the wall and then slid against the floor of whatever building they were at.

“Are you okay,” he asked, thinking that it would have been an odd thing to say. Sure they were fighting against one another, but the pink haired warrior wanted to make sure they were both fine. If she was, he wouldn’t mind going back to their fight. There were only a few reasons why Walid chose to fight someone. The main one was to see how strong he was to protect those that he loved. His fight that night was a part of a different reason.

He had finally found someone that seemed to like fighting and also felt like they had a special bond with one another. His patron’s constant snickering kept annoying the warrior and made him feel like he was missing a joke. If you don’t speak old man, I’ll find a way to kill you.

WC: 609
TWC: 4,476
PSWC: 17,699
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Bra
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She was dive-bombing them both into a building, fully intending to give her all in this battle.

But he was protecting her?

His arms wrapped around her as they pierced the building, protecting her from the incoming rubble. Her eyes went wide in surprise and her body seemed to relax from feeling. It was something she had never experienced before; another being offering her protection against harm. It was something that hadn't been ingrained in her; the love and care of organics for others.

She...had no words for it.

After they had pulverized the entire side of the building, their combined forms slid along the floor. They came to an eventual stop, surrounded by the rubble and stone-dust of their entrance. She stared wide-eyed at him, unsure of how to respond.

So she didn't.

She pulled herself free from his grip and got to her feet, staring at him with a mixture of fear and confusion. What were all these feelings inside? Why was she so torn like this? Why hadn't Lysses done anything? He hadn't moved, hadn't said a word to her. He hadn't even come to protect her. Sure she didn't need protection but still the effort...Her eyes threatened to release the tears behind them.

She had no choice; her aura exploded off of her and she rocketed out of the hole they had created, soaring up into the sky. As her form disappeared into the night sky, tiny rivulets of water ran down her cheek and dripped off her jaw to fall to the ground below. No one would ever find these, mind you, for tears are fleeting things that evaporate rather quickly.

But the pain behind them...that would never really go away.

WC: 289
BWC: 8,605
TWC: 17,379
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Walid
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The Avatar of War
The warrior wasn’t exactly looking for thanks from his opponent, but he figured that she at least would say something. Much to his surprise though, nothing was said. Walid understood that some used their body language when they were speechless to express their feelings. How she was feeling was a complete mystery to the pink haired warrior. He didn’t know if she was upset, or ashamed that he tried to help her out.

Did...Did I do something wrong? Over and over again, those few words echoed throughout his mind as he watched her shoot into the air. He managed to spot something sparkling in the air and falling from wherever she was, but he didn’t think much of it. Regardless Walid tried to remember what he was doing before they started to fight, but no matter how much he tried to, his mind was still wrapped around that female warrior.

That’s when he turned to his patron for guidance. Whenever the pink haired warrior was in some kind of situation that he didn’t know understand, Brontos was able to help. He wasn’t sure if he should trust him though.

[align=center]“Sorry but I can’t help you with this one Walid, you’re on your own.”[/align]

That was all that the warrior received from Brontos and he had to admit, he saw that coming. Either way he assumed his patron would at least try to help out the Avatar of War. With nothing else to do, the pink haired warrior did the only thing that he could. He sat there in the ruins of whatever building they crashed into and thought long and hard.

It can’t be because she’s a girl… There were countless women that the Walid encountered in his life. Not once did he ever feel as he did for his opponent. Normally he saw them as just another person. That blue haired Saiyan that he ran into was different on the other hand. She was not just some person he bumped into. He didn’t know when he would ever see her again, but he hoped that he would.

Just as he thought when their next meeting would be, he realized something. It was something that he thought everyone did when they met each other. It was something that would motivate him to try meeting her again some day.

“She….SHE NEVER TOLD ME HER NAME!” he shouted as he stood back up, “I was kind enough to do that… I even gave my title for Kai’s sake…” On that note, Walid finally zipped into the air so that he could move onto his next task. Right as he was heading back to Kami’s Lookout where his student probably was, he suddenly remembered something. The last time he saw the Berserker, he was at the restaurant.

I hope he didn’t get hurt in the process of that fight. The pink haired warrior then flew down to see if his rival needed help and looked at the place where it all started. It looked as if the building could do down at any moment. It was kind of funny to the warrior. He didn’t think the first time he would have feelings for a girl would be the same moment he wrecked a city. His mother would probably be proud of him.

WC: 549
TWC: 5,025
PSWC: 17,925
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