Rough "Mornings"

[Deleted]

Present Day... Planet Vegeta…

Within the confines of a beaten down space pod, half buried by rubble, deep within the Scorched Plains of the saiyan home world, the near intolerable sounds of snoring is replaced in an instance by a loud, yet iconic, alarm…

“IT’S OVER 9,000! IT’S OVER 9,000! IT’S OVER 9,000!”

The outdated space pod’s one inhabitant, a dungy looking saiyan dressed in only a pair of black boxers, adorned with the logo of the wearer’s liquor of choice, Saiyan Comfort, and a brown bandana, which was pulled down over his eyes, lets out a groan. Reluctantly he rolls over, while still retaining his curled up position, which is inexplicably inverted from the manner in which someone would normally sit in such a vessel, and blindly smacks around with his tail until eventually tapping the head of his Prince Vegeta alarm clock.

“What’s wrong? I hope I am not making you uncomfortable.”

The collector’s item replies in a sarcastic tone, as it does every morning when silenced.

“I hate mornings…”

The dirty man says with a heavy sigh as he pulls the bandana up to its proper place on his forehead.

“Correction, Commander Sohko, it is noon.”

*Replies the space pod’s computer over the internal speaker system. Sohko finds solace only in the fact that the programmed monotone voice is great for his hangover induced headache.*

“That early? Jeez… And how many times do I have to tell you, stop calling me Commander.”

He readjusts, sitting in an upright position and gingerly rubs the sleep from his eyes.

“Alright, guess I’ll go for a run, or maybe practice some moves… Or go to the bar and have a couple drinks…”

He pauses to think it over.

“Yeah, that last one sounded good. Computer, open door.”

“Order confirmed, door opening.”

There is clicking noise heard, but, disappointingly, the door does not open.

“Mechanical malfunction, unable to open door.”

“Of course…”

Sohko repositions himself against the door and gives it a good couple of shoves. The final exertion proves enough, and the door shoots open. However, his momentum brings him rolling out as well. Looking up at the scorching sun high in the sky he lets out a yell as the light severely aggravates his condition.

“Ahh! Somebody turn off the light!”

Frantically his tail rifles through his ship, pulling his sunglasses free from the unorganized mayhem and quickly dropping them into his hands. A moment later they are on and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“Phew. Alright, just need to get dressed and try to remember which direction the bar is.”

Says the saiyan coyly, knowing what response it will provoke.

“South by southwest of our current position.”

“Oh, computer, what would I do without you?”

“Surely perish, sir.”

There is a moment of silence.

“It was a rhetorical question you hunk of junk. Now where did I put those clothes…”

Sohko struggles to his feet, heavily relying on his tail to help with his balance, before lumbering over to the back of the pod while leaning against the machine for support. He looks over the ship, looking for a particular dent, at which point he slips his index finger in and pops a plate loose. Setting the removed plate aside, he shoves his hand inside the new opening.

“Sir, I must request that you stop using the mainframe as a storage compartment.”

“Blah, blah, blah, can it.”

Piece by piece he pulls out his dusty, unwashed attire. First his puffy white pants, which seeing him put on while hopping on one foot is a sight to behold. Second is his light battle armor chest piece, which is mostly black and lined with white, with a few patches of heavier brown plating. Next is his brown jacket, whose sleeves is never rolled down past his elbows, and is covered with various rips. Then comes his boots and gloves, the latter which are slightly modified to reach halfway down his fingers, that stylized identically to his light armor.

Finally the empty scabbard emerges, very decorative in appearance, and the only piece of his attire which is not filthy. No one is quite sure why he carries it, seeing as the weapon it held, his family’s engraved Katchi sword he sold years ago while on a drunken binge. Whenever he is asked about it, Sohko gives a greatly varying reason which almost never makes sense, although, in his defense, he is usually three sheets to the wind at the time.

“There, all dressed up and looking good… Well goodish… Ahh never mind.”

Truly, his appearance has changed greatly in the five years preceding what he and many disbelievers call “the incident.” Coupled with the drastic change in attire are his hair, now much longer and unkempt, and his face, now covered with a goatee as shabby as his hair. Far greater than his physical change though are the intangible changes, both to his mind and soul.

The memories and emotions he was magically forced to undergo following the old mystic’s curse and subsequent self-sacrifice tore him apart on every level. It took weeks in the rejuvenation chamber before he was even able to regain consciousness. Having never truly felt anything in the way of the emotional spectrum, the new memories, which took him weeks to separate from his own, haunted him. Her pain was too great for him to handle, thanks to his newly formed conscience, created by her collective physical and emotional experiences.

And to kill again struck fear, something he never knew before, in him down to his very core. He feared any more emotions along with the heart wrenching memories that went with them. In fact it was due to this inability to kill, along with his newfound ability to feel empathy, which made him desert the World Trade Organization and exile himself to the Scorched Plains of his home planet. In fact, the mystic was the last being he had slain.

“Alright, off to the bar for a couple shots of SayCo!”

Uneasily, and with much more focus than should be required, he lifts himself off the ground and takes off north, in an unending quest to dull the memories, something he found only the strongest Saiyan liquors were capable of doing. A minute later he returns, stumbling to the ground before reaching into the pod and pulling out his trusty Katchin reinforced flask with a smile.

“How could I forget my most prized possession? Come to papa.”

He quickly pops the top off and takes a hearty swig, followed by a satisfied sigh, at which point the computer interrupts.

“Sir, may I remind you that the bar is in the opposite direction that you were headed.”

Sohko pauses to look both directions before clearing his throat and responding.

“Um yes, I knew that, I was just… Testing you, yeah that’s right, just making sure you’re guidance systems weren’t damage, that’s all. Good job computer.”

[Deleted]

A few minutes later…

“Ah ha! My lovely pub away from pod how I have missed you!”

The landing is a little rough, surely not a result of his drinking the remnants of the flask on his fly over, but a few small craters here and there never hurt anyone; it is a desolate wasteland after all.

Taking a moment to get his footing, and brush some dust off his clothing, Sohko looks up at the bar. It’s a piece of work, that no man could argue, but how much the “architect” had been drinking when he built it certainly is up for debate. The roof is off tilt, one half of the swinging doors hangs by only a single hinge, half the stairs are caved in or on their way, and only frames of glass shards remain where windows once stood.

Truly an outdated place when compared to the technologically advanced buildings in Saru City but Sohko isn’t exactly the picky type when it comes to getting completely wasted. In fact he’d go to an outhouse as long as they sold his drink of choice; Saiyan Comfort. Confidently, if not a bit unevenly, he strolls up the stairs, carefully avoiding the caved in steps, and pushes open the swinging doors.

“Barnabus! A bottle of your finest Saiyan Comfort!”

A large man, both in height and width, stands behind a dilapidated counter. He sports a clean shaven head and a handlebar moustache, something he is quite well known for amongst his patrons. Barnabus did not look pleased.

“Sohko you cheap bastard I’m not pouring you another damn drink until you pay off your tab!”

Plopping down in an empty stool the former commander patted down the pockets of his jackets before pulling out two hundred zeni and slapping it down on the counter. Not surprisingly, the bartender’s mood changes quite dramatically quite quickly. He twirls one half of his moustache as he smiles deviously at the money. Sohko puts his hand in front of Barnabus’ face and snaps his fingers.

“Bottle of Saiyan Comfort and a glass. No ice! Oh, and fill this up too while you’re at it.”

Demands the saiyan as he pulls his katchin reinforced flask free of his jacket’s inner pocket and places it before him. Almost immediately the barkeep pulls a bottle and glass from beneath the stained counter and places them before the unkempt saiyan warrior before him, after which he takes the flask and disappears into the back.

“Oh my love, I’ve missed you so.”

He hastily pours a shot, which disappears just as swiftly as it appeared, before pouring himself another. Halfway through the next glass he hears a snicker from one of the tables behind him. Peering through the mirror as well as several other reflective surfaces he got a lay of the land, seeing as he wasn’t sober enough to think do so when he walked in, having only the thought of drinking on his mind at the time.

There were five tables in all; shoddy pieces of craftsmanship no different than the chairs that went with them, or the establishment in which they all resided for that matter. Two tables were empty, one had a card game going, the fourth had what seemed like two old friends swapping stories and finally the fifth, where the only two females present sat, along with the three men trying to swoon them. Sohko merely shrugged and poured a third glass as Barnabus reappeared with the flask.

“Filled to the brim my friend!”

“Good. Look, Barney buddy tell me, is it just me or is one of those overcompensating saiyans with the girls looking at me?”

He glances over Sohko’s shoulder before nodding which in turn leads Sohko to sigh. As if by cue, the noise of a chair screeching across the floor was followed by the sound of footsteps. He grabs the flask and stashes it back in his jacket.

“Here we go…”

“So, the bartender here tells us that you don’t kill. Is that true?”

Sohko fires off a glance reminiscence of his old days at the bartender who just smiles devilishly while shrugging.

“Yes, it is.”

Before he even finishes the saiyan lets out a bellow of laughter, quickly followed by his cackling crew. Sohko’s grip on the bottle grows firm, but he is careful not to shatter it. He reflects silently on how much he hates when Barnabus does this.

“What kind of saiyan doesn’t kill? To kill and conquer is the saiyan way! You’re just a limp tail failure aren’t you!?”

Another round of laughs, but Sohko really doesn’t want to stop drinking. Through the haze an idea formulates, but in his state he finds it hard to read the other’s power level. Without looking at the bolstering youth he responds.

“What’s your power level kid?”

The saiyan seems a bit affronted by the direct question and hesitates a moment before answering.

“Nine hundred! Toughest in my class!”

“Nine hundred eh? I don’t think so. Barnabus mind fact checking this kid’s report for me? I’m not as ki sensitive as I used to be.”

“Of course, I’m sure I’ve got a scouter around here somewhere…”

He trails off as his giant head disappears under the bar. A few moments later he reemerges with a beaten up old scouter over his eye. He clicks it on and then scans the younger saiyan before letting out a snort.

“You got him, only eight hundred.”

“Yeah, like I’m going to believe a beat up out of date piece of shit like that!”

“Hey, this is still a quality piece of machinery, I mean sure it has some wear and tear, but its fine shape-Sohko, what are you doing?”

As soon as he heard what he wanted to hear, Sohko had made up his mind quickly. Bringing his hands together and focusing in the separation of his ki, he forced a clone of himself from his body.

“There, now I can beat you down AND drink!”

The second Sohko turns to the first.

“Hey, I want to drink too!”

“Fine, let’s settle this the old fashioned way… JENKEN!”

The first jumps to his feet and both assume position. They drop their fist to their palm once, twice, thrice before bellowing their battle cries.

“ROOOOOOOOOOOOOCK!”

“PAAAAAAAPERRRRRRRRR!”

The second looks dejected as he turns to the young warrior, who looks both disgusted and confused. The original Sohko retakes his seat and pours himself another shot.

“Come on big boy, let’s get this over with before I sober up.”

“That’s it, I can’t take this anymore!”

Obviously feeling insulted by Sohko’s body splitting gesture and accompanying comments he swings wildly, yet decently fast. The second dodges each punch, even taking a moment to yawn while doing so.

“C’mon kid you have to do better than that if you want to land a punch!”

Meanwhile the first looks to the bartender.

“Why do you always do this? You know I’m not paying you now right?”

“Forget the money, seeing you fight is worth it. Plus I’m a business man and on Vegeta, fighting always draws customers!”

Sohko rolls his eyes as he stuffs his money back into his jacket pocket before pouring yet another shot for himself. The second, having grown a little bored, decides to start blocking the punches instead of just dodging them. It actually looks like he’s having fun until the youngling throws a kick to his head that actually connects. With haste he jumps backwards, proud of having landed a blow. The look in the eyes of his opponent however melts his cocky smile away.

“That’s it, you’ve ruined my buzz. Now I’m pissed.”

“Shut up you washed up drunk!”

He charges forward, hiding his fear behind brashness, sending one powerful fist towards Sohko. The clone side steps, grabs his wrist and proceeds to bring his free palm up to the youth’s extended elbow, swiftly making it bend in an unnaturally way, which is accompanied by a loud snap.

“AHHHH!”

The foolish fighter stumbles back, holding his arm. Without letting him even finish him scream, the second Sohko extends his arm, palm first and pools power into it before firing off a blast which decisively ends the fight; and leaves a saiyan sized hole in the wall. He then looks to the brash warrior’s cronies.

“Scram or you’re next.”

They nod frantically before hastily escaping through the hole their friend just made, knocking over their chairs as they do so. The girls, however, look upon Sohko with what appears to be favor. The clone notices the tail of one them and a smile stretches across his face. He retreats to the original for a powwow.

“Hey me, did you see her tail? Man would I like to nibble on that!”

The first’s head spins around almost immediately to scout the situation. The two girls, noticing the movement, wave slyly.

“You’re not kidding. They both got some quality tails! Man what I wouldn’t do to have one those tickling my-“

Barnabus jumps into the conversation between the two Sohko’s.

“Whoa! Stop right there buddy! If you have a tail fetish that’s your business but I do NOT need to hear this again!”

The two shrug before standing up, taking several more bottles of SayCo and glasses with them as they head over to the ladies’ table, who seem more than happy to have more, shall we say, mature company.

“Well hellooo ladies, my name is Sohko-“

“Mine too!”

The first shoots a glare at the second.

“Anyways, we were wondering if you’d like some… Company?”

… Several hours and bottles of SayCo later…

Both Sohkos are at the bar drinking once more, their cheeks still throbbing from being slapped by the ladies an hour or so ago. Apparently the drunker the Sohkos get the more raunchy they get, who knew? The bar is now full of people, having heard wind of fighting. Every now and then there is a scuffle, at which point Barnabus demands they go outside and settle their difference. Everyone of course follows to watch and in the end, the winner buys everyone a round.

“Oh boy, I need to take a leak, No. 2 get in here!”

With a heavy sigh he does as he is told, combining with the original to make themselves whole again. Grabbing a bottle, to help ‘the process,’ Sohko waves halfheartedly at Barnabus who is now very busy serving all the new patrons.

Stumbling through the doors he is surprised to see a very odd creature before him. A few inches shorter than him with smooth skin and deep red complexion, the odd being just stands there, staring. Sohko, thinking as deeply as his inebriated state will allow, turns his head back to the entrance of the bar and yells.

“Okay, who thought it would be a good idea to leave their bubblegum in the radioactive desert? Doesn’t ANYONE remember what happened when Barnabus forgot his pet worms outside!?”

[Deleted]

The air whipped past Kazama's face as he flew through the air. The dark blue shirt that he had been wearing and fallen to pieces and disappeared as he traveled over the wasteland. While he felt a loss when it finally disappeared into the night he felt free of a weight as well. But all he was focussed on now was power readings off in the distance.

"There are a decent amount of creatures there with a high power level. Perhaps one of them can tell me what a Saiyan is." Kazama stated.

The power signatures were faint because of the distance but they were powerful enough to pick up on unlike the worms even though Kazama was right next to them. He prayed that the power levels were that of someone was cognoscente of their actions. As he flew he was able to finally pick up the outline of a building that was surrounded by the wasteland.

"Actual signs of life."

Kazama let a burst of energy go that caused him to travel even faster. In no time at all he was soon upon the building and he landed softly. The sand parted by his feet from the down draft that he created. The building was nothing special, in fact it was a bit of a dump but from what he could make out there were lifeforms inside. They were definitely the energy that Kazama sensed but he was not overly impressed by it. He began to slowly walk towards it. Each step he took slipped in the sand slightly but he did not notice at all. Lifeforms, what he desired, after all the time he finally got what he wanted.

"I can finally have a conversation." As he said that a man stumbled out of the building.

He was dressed in a pair of beaten pants, worn armor and a jacket that had certainly seen better days. His hair was parted down the middle with a scraggly goatee hanging off his chin and his cheeks seemed to a bright red though Kazama was not sure in the dark. The man was quite a bit taller than Kazama although he was not nearly as big as the Mezos. His breathing shallowed as he saw another living creature which looked to be able to communicate. But Kazama's hopes of an intelligent conversation were dashed almost instantly when he heard the words come out of the man's mouth next.

"Okay, who thought it would be a good idea to leave their bubblegum in the radioactive desert? Doesn’t ANYONE remember what happened when Barnabus forgot his pet worms outside!?”

Kazama's heart sank at the comment. And that was when the smell of alcohol hit him nearly knocking him over. He had been called a radioactive piece of gum by a man he had just met. With a sigh he began to walk forward.

"Move drunk. I seek someone with a decent level intelligence. Obviously you don't have that." Kazama stated.

Kazama strode forward and shoved his way past the man who stumbled backwards.

[Deleted]

Sohko let out a laugh as the bubblegum man walked by him.

"If you are looking for intelligence, you are in the wrooooooong place buckaroo! The only thing you're going to find in the Rusty Trombone is dumb, dumber, dumbest, and a guy with an awesome mustache!"

However, Sohko did not like being pushed, and once the giggles from the spirits left him, his smile dropped a bit.

"Here, I'll tell you what Big Red, if you can beat me fair and circular, wait a second... Clear and square... Ah screw it, you know what I'm getting at."

He pauses for a moment, trying to remember what he was originally saying.

"Oh yeah, if you can beat me I'll talk you're ear off! Just ask Barnabus, with a couple shots in me I could talk a hole through your head..."

Sohko said as a devious grin took form.

[Deleted]

"Oh yeah, if you can beat me I'll talk you're ear off! Just ask Barnabus, with a couple shots in me I could talk a hole through your head..."

Kazama stopped walking at the comment. He looked into the building and saw about a dozen people. He could not believe a single one was smarter than this drunk. The smell alone was starting to get to Kazama. He glanced backwards at the drunk who appeared to be trying to put on his serious face but was struggling to keep the look on his face without wobbling. The grin though was starting to bother Kazama. He was not sure what but the idea that this man was even addressing him was starting to annoy him.

"You don't want to do that you fool," Kazama stated before raising his finger up.

An energy beam shot out from his finger tip and passed through the bottle of alcohol that the drunk had in his hand. The bottle shattering and the remaining liquid falling onto the ground.

"I have eaten things that were more powerful than you." Kazama said with a stone hardened face.

[Deleted]

Being insulted is nothing new to Sohko, his drunken lifestyle gave others plenty of opportunities to take shots at him. However, nobody messes with his liquor especially...

"My... Saiyan... Comfort... Alright Big Red, that's the last straw, NOBODY FUCKS WITH MY SAYCO!!!"

With that he throws the neck of the broken bottle to the ground and charges the ki through his body before flying forward and landing a thunderous kick to the side of the new creature's head...

"What the hell!?"

He says as he notices there is no physical reaction to his move, instead his foot just sticks in the side of the creatures head, who looks none too pleased.

[Deleted]

As the drunk threw a fit over the loss of his alcohol Kazama could not believe it took that little to provoke a man into a fight he was clearly going to lose. Either he couldn't sense Kazama's energy or didn't care. The drunk powered ki throughout his entire body as Kazama turned to face him square. The man jumped into the air and through a kick with what Kazama thought was his entire might. Instead of dodging he was going to prove the power difference between the two. The kick struck the side of his head which only seemed to further anger the majin.

"I told you. I have eaten things more powerful than you." Kazama stated coldly.

With that statement he let out a power of ki that was enough to push the drunk several yards off. The drunk not knowing what was going on flew through the air before sliding onto his feet. However Kazama with his speed had already moved behind him and gave him a forceful push to the back of the head which was designed to plant his face in the sand.

[Deleted]

Pushing himself off the ground, Sohko spits out sand before jumping back to his feet. In his current condition, he found himself unable to read his ki, but given the recent events he could tell that it far surpassed his own. But sadly, he fell victim both to inebriation and saiyan pride.

"Getting my ass kicked by Aunt Flow... What a disgrace."

His teeth grind together as he spins around throwing punches at a blinding speed at the mysterious creature, only to stare in awe as he dodged ever last punch without even breaking a sweat... If it even could sweat that is.

"What the hell are you? Am I hallucinating? Usually I just see dancing purple monkeys, not ripped red whatchamacallits!"

He redoubles his efforts, throwing punches even faster than before, but still finds little success.

[Deleted]

Kazama easily danced around the now yelling drunk's punches. Kazama figured now that at this point the man was fighting more out of pride than anything else. Kazama learned early on that when you begin to fight out of pride that the fight was over and that you had lost. But Kazama continued to wonder if this was a saiyan or not. He had yet to find out. All he had found out from this man was that he had no idea how to speak.

"What the hell are you? Am I hallucinating? Usually I just see dancing purple monkeys, not ripped red whatchamacallits!"

The drunk tried to speed up his punches but Kazama continued to dance around the strikes. Kazama grabbed one of the drunk's arms as it passed his head with little effort. With ease Kazama flipped the drunk over his shoulder and slammed him against the ground. He did not release his arm and repeated the move as he slammed him against the ground. Kazama continued repeatedly before planting him squarely in the ground. As he did Kazama ended up facing the building where he noticed people were starting to look out the windows and walk halfway out the door.

"Pathetic drunk."

[Deleted]

He was face down in the dirt yet again. His body hurt; a lot. Long haggard breaths kicked the sand up from in front of his face. Slowly he put one hand palm first against the ground, then the other, before pushing himself up. The process was painstakingly slow, and his arms shook a little but he wouldn't let himself go down like this. As he looked up he saw Barnabus charging out of the bar, pulling on outdated armor as quickly as he could.

"NO! STAY WHERE YOU ARE! ALL OF YOU!"

He roared with such ferocity that not a one of them dared take a step forward. Summoning his energy he sprang up, landing between the red hulk of a being and the Rusty Trombone. He smiled as he held his extended hand in front of his face.

"Would you like to see a magic trick Clifford?"

Unsure if anyone would get the reference, but at this point not really caring, he pooled energy into his hand as he tightly squeezed his outstretched fingers together. In an instantaneous motion, his fingers sprang apart as orbs tightly concentrated energy appeared between each finger.

"Now you'll see why you don't insult a saiyan! EAT THIS!"

He swings his hand forward with incredible force, sending the four balls of energy at his opponent in separating arches. Once again the being doesn't move, instead allowing himself to be engulfed into the explosion.

"Fool..."

[Deleted]

The members of the building began to exit as the drunk got up from the ground. Kazama had to give it to him that he was determined even if it was misguided. Kazama noticed that one of the men was throwing on outdated armor as he tried to run towards the two fighters. But the drunk yelled out.

"NO! STAY WHERE YOU ARE! ALL OF YOU!"

With that statement the Majin snorted in amusement knowing that the drunk still wanted to fight. He clawed his way to his feet and then began to build up his energy.

"Would you like to see a magic trick Clifford?"

Kazama sensed the drunk's power level continuing to climb. He watched in skepticism wondering what he was up to.

"What are you up to?" Kazama said under his breath. The drunk began to amass ki in his fingers as the crowd watched from afar. From what he could tell the drunk was starting to sober up to his chagrin.

"Now you'll see why you don't insult a saiyan! EAT THIS!"

The energy shot from his hand in four blasts which slammed into Kazama. The majin took a step back from the force as his body was encapsulated in an explosion. Instantly he was emerged in a bright light and then dust from the ground. Kazama could hear the crowd begin to cheer and the drunk utter something but he was not sure. But he had gotten his answer. The drunk was a saiyan. With a sigh the majin called out from the dust.

"I got my answer. You are a Saiyan. It is a pity...your power level is so far beneath mine." Kazama called out arrogantly.

The crowd instantly fell silent at the idea that he had survived the blast. The dust settled and to their dread Kazama barely had a scratch on him. He leaned his head to left and cracked his neck.

"Are we done warming up now? I would like to actually fight now or was that all you had?" Kazama said with a laugh.

[Deleted]

Sohko's head was tilted down so that his hair just barely covered his eyes. His fists were clenched so tightly that they trembled slightly. His anger took form as his aura appeared like white flames slowly rising from his body along with wisps of black.

"You are very powerful, I'll give you that... But sadly, probably for me more than you at this point... Us saiyans are rather stubborn... So... DIE!"

He launches forward with all his strength, landing a powerful uppercut to the chin of the red creature followed by a strong left. Much to his surprise the creature stumbles back and seems to have actually taken damage from the assault.

[Deleted]

As the Saiyan connected with the uppercut and a strong left hand. To Kazama's surprise the Saiyan hit him harder than he expected causing him to stumble backwards. He could see out of the corner of his eye he could see a smile on the drunk's face. Kazama planted his feet and felt his jaw with his right hand. Kazama's head was still turned as he did so. Suddenly dark blue seemed to burst from his body and the sand blew away from his feet.

"You shouldn't have done that."

With all of his energy Kazama swung his right arm backwards. Combined with the rotation he generated from his he body spinning when he connected with the Saiyan he sent him flying backwards. His body flew through the air at a high speeds past the crowd and into the front of the building. The crowd turned to look at their champion before turning back to stare at him.

"And that is check. Your move." Kazama stated as he rubbed his jaw.

[Deleted]

The saiyan warrior pushed the broken tables and chairs in which he had landed away from him. Several others stepped over to help him up but he would accept no help; no pity.

"Leave me alone, it is not the saiyan way!"

Knowing this to be truth, they respect his wishes, clearing a path so that he could hobble back out of the bar. Gingerly, he walks down the steps, almost losing his balance several times before standing once more between the being and the bar. His eye was swollen shut from as a result of the incredibly powerful backhand; completely useless for the time being.

"I guess it's time to go for broke... Heh..."

He whispered to himself beneath his breath. Barnabus, overhearing, goes to speak, but upon seeing the look in his loyal patron's eyes he silences himself. Words are not powerful to change the mind of a saiyan bent on destruction; whether it be the destruction of others or himself.

"Is that all you've got? Huh?"

The creature tilts its head to one side and raises what would pass for an eyebrow in response.

"GIVE ME YOUR BEST SHOT!"

[Deleted]

"GIVE ME YOUR BEST SHOT!"

The saiyan yelled despite being barely able to stand. Kazama chuckled to himself. He was finding out that the saiyans were quite an interesting race perhaps he would make a good conversation after all.

"You won't be able to survive my best shot! But I will honor you with something that is only at a fraction of the strength." The majin called back with a smile.

He raised one of his fingers in the air. Instantly a ball of black and red ki formed above his head. He could see the horror on the people's faces as they witnessed the attack form. Their faces reminded him of the slaves he was ordered to kill despite them doing nothing. He hesitated for a moment before he snapped back to reality.

"You wanted something harder, here you go!" Kazama yelled as he threw the ball of ki.

He watched as the ball sped across the wasteland at the beaten saiyan. Despite barely being charged Kazama knew that it was going to be difficult for him. It was his final test to see if he was worthy of having a conversation with the majin.