midnightmissiles
Princess of Memes, Shitposts, and Puns
Oh, please, do speak up~
A Brief SI (Dragonball Bulma SI)
- Thread starter midnightmissiles
- Start date
- Crossover
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- Tags
- dragon ball self insert
- Location
- U.s.a.
This was jarring to read...
Lazuli 1
midnightmissiles
Princess of Memes, Shitposts, and Puns
The day began as any day might have begun, with them skipping school and haunting the local mall. There wasn't really anything special about that; they did that all the time. It wasn't like they were actually hurting anyone, they weren't gangsters, they were just delinquents.
It wasn't even their fault, really. As much as that man and that woman claimed to be their parents, she knew they weren't. She and the boy who became her brother were adopted from the same orphanage after all, but her little brother didn't even remember that. It wasn't her fault for being blonde. No one told her being a foreigner was bad. She didn't ask to be born like this.
She never fit in. Everyone else in the Chinese Amish Tribe were like her brother, black haired and black eyed. That she was taller than the other girls, as well as matured sooner, only drew their ire. And that ire materialized in bullying.
Now, it wasn't like she was really hurt by it. They didn't pour juice down her back or lock her in a locker or something, they only excluded her from activities or talked about how she was seducing the boys they liked. No, that didn't hurt. She had grown used to it; she couldn't be weak, not with her brother counting on her.
He had no one else.
Not their parents, certainly.
And besides, two could play at that game. She had begun skipping physical education, smoking behind the locker rooms, and soon that escalated to outright skipping school. She hadn't intended for her brother to follow her, it just happened like that.
It wasn't her fault that they had already decided she was a delinquent before she knew it. And her brother? Well, he was one by association.
So there they were, hanging out in the mall, while her brother took selfies in front of dog poop or some truck or whatever he found interesting in the parking lot. She still could remember what she was doing that day, what she was thinking and even the citric taste of the morning wind. She was thinking about how they couldn't even be called Chinese Amish anymore; they had a mall, everyone used C-Phones, and the only cars in the parking lot were the ones that no one drove anymore.
Everyone had a flying car that could shrink into the size of a pill these days.
"Hey Sis, look, I got a trucker hat!" Her brother shouted excitedly at her as he found one of the trucks unloading supplies to the mall parked outside with its window down. He wore it immediately before frowning. "Ew, it's all sweaty."
She took a drag, not bothering standing up, "Put that down, bro. You don't know where that's been."
He complied goodnaturedly.
They got along.
She could still remember it...
When the green portal opened up suddenly from across the parking lot. There weren't many cars there, and the light, flash, and whirling sound of the portal had drawn her attention immediately. It didn't exactly pop, it sort of bounced... like the surface of a lake or jello pudding, or sort of like goo. It was a bright, unnatural green color, with blinding flashes of white swirling in around, like a cup of mocha.
Then the girl with the blue-green hair walked through it, the girl who would change her life. She didn't know it then, of course. She thought this girl was just another one of those crazy scientist types, from the way the girl stashed away what looked like a portal-gun into her holster.
Even the Chinese Amish Village had one of those; their local scientist had a spaceship and farming robots made of sticks and straw to prove it too.
The girl had these thick, coke-bottle goggles, which she had not taken off or slid to her forehead. It obscured her eyes, making her expression unreadable and it was impossible to tell what she was looking at. She had this thick, white lab coat on, its edges stained and worn, and these thick boots that went up over her shins. There was a black bodysuit under that, but it was hard to tell; it was not reflective and seemed to swallow up the light around it. All in all, the girl was curious, she had thought then.
"Hey kid! You have the divine physic and bone structure of a martial arts genius," The blue haired girl spoke loudly and immediately. Her voice echoed without anything to bounce off of and as the green halo of the dissipated portal disappeared, the girl still had this sort of sheer presence that made it difficult to look away from her.
"What." Her brother wasn't exactly the smart type.
"World peace is in your hands! This is the pamphlet of the Crane School of Martial Arts!" She held up a tiny booklet with the word 'CRANE' stamped on its cover. There was an old man depicted under the word, wearing a little crane hat and sunglasses. "You can have it for three hundred and fifty zeni!"
No one could blame them, the blue haired girl had terrible presentation.
She turned away from the girl immediately, know that some other loony would come along and take care of things. This wasn't their problem, and the manual was probably a scam.
As she turned away, the blue haired girl shouted, "Wait!"
Instinctively, she stilled. There was power in the girl's word. It was like she had grown up commanding others. She thought of an unlikely scenario, what if this girl was a princess or someone similar to that? She stopped and turned around, only to see the girl holding more pamphlets.
"You want more?" There were five pamphlets, each with different martial arts names and titles printed on them. If she had even cared about this or was a nerd for that sort of thing, she thought she might have recognized them. "I got pamphlets for days!"
"No," she had told the girl. There wasn't much to say then. She remembered that she had focused on the girl's hair, how it was so straight and prim and proper. It reminded her of her classmates, who acted like they were good girls while saying words of spite behind her back. It pissed her off.
"Aw, but sis! I wanna be Kung Fu fighting!" Her brother protested, throwing some mockingly silly punches in the air.
"Let's get out of here," She replied. She tossed a capsule on the ground. It wasn't something she was proud of, having a motorcycle like this, but it was the only one they could afford. Gasoline vehicles that couldn't fly were dirt cheap these days, since no one wanted to use them anymore.
They left the crazy girl from the green portal and drove into the mountains, to get away from it all. There was a campsite not far from their town, and they were on the border of a national park.
She'd traveled up there to a lake only an hour's ride away on the weekends, when no one bothered her.
Her brother had used to love the outdoors so much, but these days, he had all sorts of silly games to play on his phone. It just wasn't the same anymore.
A part of her wondered then, as the wind whipped her hair against her cheeks, if any kids before or after her generation would know what it was like to grow up during the spread of the internet. It certainly was a topic the classrooms discussed on the days she did attend. They made it sound like she was lucky to be born.
She hated it all. She knew she was still living well enough, there were people with worse lives than her, but she still hated it.
Her life was just so... monotonous.
When had everything become so predictable and mellow?
Just riding her bike with the wind in her face, she felt at peace. It was usually these times that she could be introspective, but it only made her despise herself more. She hated that she craved stronger emotions. She hated that she wanted to hate her life.
She hated that she thought everything revolved around her, that her life was about her desires and her desires alone.
She hated being a teenager.
And perhaps hate was too strong a word to use.
They parked below the slopes of the mountain overlooking the park. It was late in the afternoon when they had arrived; they had taken the long route there. She knew her brother liked it too. There was something about the open road that appealed to him.
She just wanted to clear her head...
… If only he'd stop taking pictures of everything, including his groin, for some inane social media application on his goddamn phone. "Are you done yet?"
"Am I ever?" Her brother preened before the screen. "Look, let me take a picture of you, Sis."
"Don't you dare."
"It'll be great! They came out with this new filter. You could be a dog!"
"That's stupid, and you're stupid. Ugh." She flicked her hair, but she didn't turn away. It was useless while he was in one of these silly modes.
Then her brother paused. He looked up at her and then looked back down at his screen.
It took her a moment, but she realized that he was looking at something behind her.
When she turned around, an old man was standing behind her, only inches away. He had the wrinkliest, ugliest face she'd ever seen. There was a sinister glint in his eyes, and he wore a giant hat, like the one the Pope wore, but completely black with a silly looking logo on it. She'd seen it somewhere before, on the older car models, with the cute, red ribbon and the capitalized 'RR' on it.
He worn a tiny vest, and a sickening grin. "Yes," he muttered to himself, as if seeing two items he wanted at a grocery store. "These bodies will do nicely."
"What the hell is your problem, old man?" Her brother reacted first. He swaggered up to the strange old man, with his hands in his pocket. Even though her brother didn't really fight, he knew he had a bad reputation. It allowed him to intimidate others, which he liked to use often to get what he wanted.
But the old man either wasn't listening, or didn't care. It looked like he didn't even know who they were.
She felt like a pit of ice had grown in her belly, and she felt her feet skid back towards her bike.
The old man reached forward, and as casually as one might pick a vegetable, his hand gripped her brother's neck and picked him off the ground. The old man studied her brother's body like some sickening pervert, smirking so confidently that nothing would happen to him.
And she thought perhaps he knew about them, and that was why this old man picked them. Perhaps he knew they had no one to care about them but each other. Even their parents had all but given up hope for them, the reputation of being delinquents overriding what little parental instincts they had.
"Let him go! Can't you see what you're doing to him?" She ran up to the old man and kicked him. It felt like she was kicking an iron wall, and she fell, grasping her tingling, injured ankle. It felt broken.
"Oh, don't worry." The old man's smirk grew. "You're next."
Her eyes darted back and forth. The sun was already setting then. It was already getting dark; it was late in the fall season... and she knew no one could possibly find them, help them, before the old man did whatever he wanted to do.
She felt despair.
Then she felt the cold, wrinkled hand grip her neck. It felt like she was being sapped of her concentration.
She couldn't keep her eyes open.
So this was why her brother didn't struggle. That was her last thought then.
The next time she awakened, she was surprised she awakened at all. She immediately tried to get up, to check if she still had all her organs. She was still untouched. Even her clothes were still the way she had worn them. However, she couldn't get up...
Next to her, her brother had yet to awaken. He was groaning in pain. She could still feel the pain in her leg crawling up her spine.
They were strapped into an operation table.
She couldn't sit up, but she could look around.
This was a brightly lit room, filled with electronics. There were a thousand things here, all sharp, beeping, and painful looking. It was like a hospital made for torture, with a hundred different instruments to fulfill any horrific fantasy.
"Awake already?" The old voice spoke. He wore a scrubs uniform that in any other circumstance might have filled her with relief. Doctors were supposed to be good things. But she was only filled with fear as the first thing he picked up was a drill. It whirled loudly with life. He smirked as he came into her field of vision. "Well, it won't make a difference if you are awake or asleep. I'll have to cut you up all the same."
He placed the drill beside her with a clatter of metal against cold operation table.
It was just inches away.
She felt cold terror seep into her chest. In a small move of spite, she tried to push it off the table. The leather straps that held her down didn't even allow that.
The old man saw this and chortled. "Hopelessness is the first step to acceptance. You should be happy, young lady. I am helping you."
"Helping me? From what?" She hissed incredulously.
"From freedom, you silly girl. From these illusions. You'll become a greater part of a whole... it will be glorious." He stared into the bright lights, almost with a religious-like fervor. "Humanity's next, greatest step..."
"You... you're insane..." She struggled against her restraints. They only felt tighter with each motion.
"The genius vanguards of the future are often called insane, this is true. But you don't need to struggle so needlessly. You have no hope of escape." He picked up his next instrument, a saw. It was an old one, clean, but worn and completely lacking any mechanical function. It was just a serrated, sharp edge.
Then he placed that too just inches away from her face.
Her heart beat quickened. Her breathing was almost painful and breathless. Her eyes darted more frantically about. It felt like the walls were closing in on her.
"Please..." She whimpered and stared from the corners of her eyes at the boy lying beside her. The dark, purple imprints of the old man's fingers around his neck were so visible. The bruises alone almost forced her to shriek.
"Oh? Who is this? Your lover? Your boyfriend? Your family?" The old man asked, as if he didn't already know.
"He's... my brother. Please... take me... let him go... please..." She begged. It was hard to see, everything had gone blurry. It took her a moment to realize, but she was crying.
"Ho ho?" The old man smirked even wider. "We can't have that. I took so much time out to acquire new specimens. No, no, we can't have that. But how about this? I'll cut him up... first."
"No!" She shrieked. "Please!"
"He'll be Seventeen. You can be Eighteen." He spoke without pause, as if she had not uttered a single sound. Then he picked up his tools, and placed it on the operation table beside her brother.
"No. No. No..."
"Please be quiet now, would you?" The old man sighed. "That will be quite irritating if you distract me and I accidentally kill your brother before his time."
"No, no, no..."
He turned back to her with a look of disgust. It was so arrogant, so superior, that it made her feel like she was a worm before him. "As much as I'd enjoy your suffering, it will have to wait. You can wait in the storage room while I work on him. It'll be something to look forward to, and I'll watch your reactions later."
"Please, please, please..." She couldn't stop shivering, yet it wasn't from the cold.
Then he wheeled her out, to a room of coffins. There were other bodies locked away, with only a glass showing their sleeping faces. The coffins were numbered, and the seventeen and eighteen coffins were the only ones empty.
"Can you hear me? Heh. Well it doesn't matter. I know you can. Look upon my creations while I work on your... brother." He strode out of the room, oozing confidence in his task and himself.
She couldn't breathe. She felt like she was suffocating.
It seemed like days had passed before any sound other than the clattering of her teeth and the shortness of her breathing filled the cold, dead room of corpses and coffins. She was starving and delirious and dehydrated.
And there was no hope left inside her, she felt her will broken.
… a green portal appeared just an inch beside her.
That weird, blue-haired girl jumped out without a sound, looking around the room and then down at her. The sheer presence of the girl's being seemed divine to her then, like a warm aura that electrified her soul and rekindled something she had just thought dead within her.
"Huh." The blue-haired girl blinked and poured out a tiny vial of something like black, glistening oil, which seeped into the corners and crevasses of the room before disappearing, as if they were never there.
"Y-You? Please, you've got to help, get, call a... call the police. Someone!" She whimpered and struggled against the straps holding her to her seat. She felt every muscle of her being burn despite having no power left in herself, desperate to get the girl's attention.
"Psst." The blue-haired girl suddenly squatted down. She was swaying a little, as if she was drunk and her eyes were glazed over. She smelled like... very rich mocha. And she whispered to her, "Psst, hey you. You want some superpowers?"
"... Yes."
It wasn't even their fault, really. As much as that man and that woman claimed to be their parents, she knew they weren't. She and the boy who became her brother were adopted from the same orphanage after all, but her little brother didn't even remember that. It wasn't her fault for being blonde. No one told her being a foreigner was bad. She didn't ask to be born like this.
She never fit in. Everyone else in the Chinese Amish Tribe were like her brother, black haired and black eyed. That she was taller than the other girls, as well as matured sooner, only drew their ire. And that ire materialized in bullying.
Now, it wasn't like she was really hurt by it. They didn't pour juice down her back or lock her in a locker or something, they only excluded her from activities or talked about how she was seducing the boys they liked. No, that didn't hurt. She had grown used to it; she couldn't be weak, not with her brother counting on her.
He had no one else.
Not their parents, certainly.
And besides, two could play at that game. She had begun skipping physical education, smoking behind the locker rooms, and soon that escalated to outright skipping school. She hadn't intended for her brother to follow her, it just happened like that.
It wasn't her fault that they had already decided she was a delinquent before she knew it. And her brother? Well, he was one by association.
So there they were, hanging out in the mall, while her brother took selfies in front of dog poop or some truck or whatever he found interesting in the parking lot. She still could remember what she was doing that day, what she was thinking and even the citric taste of the morning wind. She was thinking about how they couldn't even be called Chinese Amish anymore; they had a mall, everyone used C-Phones, and the only cars in the parking lot were the ones that no one drove anymore.
Everyone had a flying car that could shrink into the size of a pill these days.
"Hey Sis, look, I got a trucker hat!" Her brother shouted excitedly at her as he found one of the trucks unloading supplies to the mall parked outside with its window down. He wore it immediately before frowning. "Ew, it's all sweaty."
She took a drag, not bothering standing up, "Put that down, bro. You don't know where that's been."
He complied goodnaturedly.
They got along.
She could still remember it...
When the green portal opened up suddenly from across the parking lot. There weren't many cars there, and the light, flash, and whirling sound of the portal had drawn her attention immediately. It didn't exactly pop, it sort of bounced... like the surface of a lake or jello pudding, or sort of like goo. It was a bright, unnatural green color, with blinding flashes of white swirling in around, like a cup of mocha.
Then the girl with the blue-green hair walked through it, the girl who would change her life. She didn't know it then, of course. She thought this girl was just another one of those crazy scientist types, from the way the girl stashed away what looked like a portal-gun into her holster.
Even the Chinese Amish Village had one of those; their local scientist had a spaceship and farming robots made of sticks and straw to prove it too.
The girl had these thick, coke-bottle goggles, which she had not taken off or slid to her forehead. It obscured her eyes, making her expression unreadable and it was impossible to tell what she was looking at. She had this thick, white lab coat on, its edges stained and worn, and these thick boots that went up over her shins. There was a black bodysuit under that, but it was hard to tell; it was not reflective and seemed to swallow up the light around it. All in all, the girl was curious, she had thought then.
"Hey kid! You have the divine physic and bone structure of a martial arts genius," The blue haired girl spoke loudly and immediately. Her voice echoed without anything to bounce off of and as the green halo of the dissipated portal disappeared, the girl still had this sort of sheer presence that made it difficult to look away from her.
"What." Her brother wasn't exactly the smart type.
"World peace is in your hands! This is the pamphlet of the Crane School of Martial Arts!" She held up a tiny booklet with the word 'CRANE' stamped on its cover. There was an old man depicted under the word, wearing a little crane hat and sunglasses. "You can have it for three hundred and fifty zeni!"
No one could blame them, the blue haired girl had terrible presentation.
She turned away from the girl immediately, know that some other loony would come along and take care of things. This wasn't their problem, and the manual was probably a scam.
As she turned away, the blue haired girl shouted, "Wait!"
Instinctively, she stilled. There was power in the girl's word. It was like she had grown up commanding others. She thought of an unlikely scenario, what if this girl was a princess or someone similar to that? She stopped and turned around, only to see the girl holding more pamphlets.
"You want more?" There were five pamphlets, each with different martial arts names and titles printed on them. If she had even cared about this or was a nerd for that sort of thing, she thought she might have recognized them. "I got pamphlets for days!"
"No," she had told the girl. There wasn't much to say then. She remembered that she had focused on the girl's hair, how it was so straight and prim and proper. It reminded her of her classmates, who acted like they were good girls while saying words of spite behind her back. It pissed her off.
"Aw, but sis! I wanna be Kung Fu fighting!" Her brother protested, throwing some mockingly silly punches in the air.
"Let's get out of here," She replied. She tossed a capsule on the ground. It wasn't something she was proud of, having a motorcycle like this, but it was the only one they could afford. Gasoline vehicles that couldn't fly were dirt cheap these days, since no one wanted to use them anymore.
They left the crazy girl from the green portal and drove into the mountains, to get away from it all. There was a campsite not far from their town, and they were on the border of a national park.
She'd traveled up there to a lake only an hour's ride away on the weekends, when no one bothered her.
Her brother had used to love the outdoors so much, but these days, he had all sorts of silly games to play on his phone. It just wasn't the same anymore.
A part of her wondered then, as the wind whipped her hair against her cheeks, if any kids before or after her generation would know what it was like to grow up during the spread of the internet. It certainly was a topic the classrooms discussed on the days she did attend. They made it sound like she was lucky to be born.
She hated it all. She knew she was still living well enough, there were people with worse lives than her, but she still hated it.
Her life was just so... monotonous.
When had everything become so predictable and mellow?
Just riding her bike with the wind in her face, she felt at peace. It was usually these times that she could be introspective, but it only made her despise herself more. She hated that she craved stronger emotions. She hated that she wanted to hate her life.
She hated that she thought everything revolved around her, that her life was about her desires and her desires alone.
She hated being a teenager.
And perhaps hate was too strong a word to use.
They parked below the slopes of the mountain overlooking the park. It was late in the afternoon when they had arrived; they had taken the long route there. She knew her brother liked it too. There was something about the open road that appealed to him.
She just wanted to clear her head...
… If only he'd stop taking pictures of everything, including his groin, for some inane social media application on his goddamn phone. "Are you done yet?"
"Am I ever?" Her brother preened before the screen. "Look, let me take a picture of you, Sis."
"Don't you dare."
"It'll be great! They came out with this new filter. You could be a dog!"
"That's stupid, and you're stupid. Ugh." She flicked her hair, but she didn't turn away. It was useless while he was in one of these silly modes.
Then her brother paused. He looked up at her and then looked back down at his screen.
It took her a moment, but she realized that he was looking at something behind her.
When she turned around, an old man was standing behind her, only inches away. He had the wrinkliest, ugliest face she'd ever seen. There was a sinister glint in his eyes, and he wore a giant hat, like the one the Pope wore, but completely black with a silly looking logo on it. She'd seen it somewhere before, on the older car models, with the cute, red ribbon and the capitalized 'RR' on it.
He worn a tiny vest, and a sickening grin. "Yes," he muttered to himself, as if seeing two items he wanted at a grocery store. "These bodies will do nicely."
"What the hell is your problem, old man?" Her brother reacted first. He swaggered up to the strange old man, with his hands in his pocket. Even though her brother didn't really fight, he knew he had a bad reputation. It allowed him to intimidate others, which he liked to use often to get what he wanted.
But the old man either wasn't listening, or didn't care. It looked like he didn't even know who they were.
She felt like a pit of ice had grown in her belly, and she felt her feet skid back towards her bike.
The old man reached forward, and as casually as one might pick a vegetable, his hand gripped her brother's neck and picked him off the ground. The old man studied her brother's body like some sickening pervert, smirking so confidently that nothing would happen to him.
And she thought perhaps he knew about them, and that was why this old man picked them. Perhaps he knew they had no one to care about them but each other. Even their parents had all but given up hope for them, the reputation of being delinquents overriding what little parental instincts they had.
"Let him go! Can't you see what you're doing to him?" She ran up to the old man and kicked him. It felt like she was kicking an iron wall, and she fell, grasping her tingling, injured ankle. It felt broken.
"Oh, don't worry." The old man's smirk grew. "You're next."
Her eyes darted back and forth. The sun was already setting then. It was already getting dark; it was late in the fall season... and she knew no one could possibly find them, help them, before the old man did whatever he wanted to do.
She felt despair.
Then she felt the cold, wrinkled hand grip her neck. It felt like she was being sapped of her concentration.
She couldn't keep her eyes open.
So this was why her brother didn't struggle. That was her last thought then.
The next time she awakened, she was surprised she awakened at all. She immediately tried to get up, to check if she still had all her organs. She was still untouched. Even her clothes were still the way she had worn them. However, she couldn't get up...
Next to her, her brother had yet to awaken. He was groaning in pain. She could still feel the pain in her leg crawling up her spine.
They were strapped into an operation table.
She couldn't sit up, but she could look around.
This was a brightly lit room, filled with electronics. There were a thousand things here, all sharp, beeping, and painful looking. It was like a hospital made for torture, with a hundred different instruments to fulfill any horrific fantasy.
"Awake already?" The old voice spoke. He wore a scrubs uniform that in any other circumstance might have filled her with relief. Doctors were supposed to be good things. But she was only filled with fear as the first thing he picked up was a drill. It whirled loudly with life. He smirked as he came into her field of vision. "Well, it won't make a difference if you are awake or asleep. I'll have to cut you up all the same."
He placed the drill beside her with a clatter of metal against cold operation table.
It was just inches away.
She felt cold terror seep into her chest. In a small move of spite, she tried to push it off the table. The leather straps that held her down didn't even allow that.
The old man saw this and chortled. "Hopelessness is the first step to acceptance. You should be happy, young lady. I am helping you."
"Helping me? From what?" She hissed incredulously.
"From freedom, you silly girl. From these illusions. You'll become a greater part of a whole... it will be glorious." He stared into the bright lights, almost with a religious-like fervor. "Humanity's next, greatest step..."
"You... you're insane..." She struggled against her restraints. They only felt tighter with each motion.
"The genius vanguards of the future are often called insane, this is true. But you don't need to struggle so needlessly. You have no hope of escape." He picked up his next instrument, a saw. It was an old one, clean, but worn and completely lacking any mechanical function. It was just a serrated, sharp edge.
Then he placed that too just inches away from her face.
Her heart beat quickened. Her breathing was almost painful and breathless. Her eyes darted more frantically about. It felt like the walls were closing in on her.
"Please..." She whimpered and stared from the corners of her eyes at the boy lying beside her. The dark, purple imprints of the old man's fingers around his neck were so visible. The bruises alone almost forced her to shriek.
"Oh? Who is this? Your lover? Your boyfriend? Your family?" The old man asked, as if he didn't already know.
"He's... my brother. Please... take me... let him go... please..." She begged. It was hard to see, everything had gone blurry. It took her a moment to realize, but she was crying.
"Ho ho?" The old man smirked even wider. "We can't have that. I took so much time out to acquire new specimens. No, no, we can't have that. But how about this? I'll cut him up... first."
"No!" She shrieked. "Please!"
"He'll be Seventeen. You can be Eighteen." He spoke without pause, as if she had not uttered a single sound. Then he picked up his tools, and placed it on the operation table beside her brother.
"No. No. No..."
"Please be quiet now, would you?" The old man sighed. "That will be quite irritating if you distract me and I accidentally kill your brother before his time."
"No, no, no..."
He turned back to her with a look of disgust. It was so arrogant, so superior, that it made her feel like she was a worm before him. "As much as I'd enjoy your suffering, it will have to wait. You can wait in the storage room while I work on him. It'll be something to look forward to, and I'll watch your reactions later."
"Please, please, please..." She couldn't stop shivering, yet it wasn't from the cold.
Then he wheeled her out, to a room of coffins. There were other bodies locked away, with only a glass showing their sleeping faces. The coffins were numbered, and the seventeen and eighteen coffins were the only ones empty.
"Can you hear me? Heh. Well it doesn't matter. I know you can. Look upon my creations while I work on your... brother." He strode out of the room, oozing confidence in his task and himself.
She couldn't breathe. She felt like she was suffocating.
It seemed like days had passed before any sound other than the clattering of her teeth and the shortness of her breathing filled the cold, dead room of corpses and coffins. She was starving and delirious and dehydrated.
And there was no hope left inside her, she felt her will broken.
… a green portal appeared just an inch beside her.
That weird, blue-haired girl jumped out without a sound, looking around the room and then down at her. The sheer presence of the girl's being seemed divine to her then, like a warm aura that electrified her soul and rekindled something she had just thought dead within her.
"Huh." The blue-haired girl blinked and poured out a tiny vial of something like black, glistening oil, which seeped into the corners and crevasses of the room before disappearing, as if they were never there.
"Y-You? Please, you've got to help, get, call a... call the police. Someone!" She whimpered and struggled against the straps holding her to her seat. She felt every muscle of her being burn despite having no power left in herself, desperate to get the girl's attention.
"Psst." The blue-haired girl suddenly squatted down. She was swaying a little, as if she was drunk and her eyes were glazed over. She smelled like... very rich mocha. And she whispered to her, "Psst, hey you. You want some superpowers?"
"... Yes."
midnightmissiles
Princess of Memes, Shitposts, and Puns
Never leave home without it!
Kuriboh
Self Insert Junkie
- Location
- Ohio
That is oddly specific, now what does that remind me off? Hmm
I'd be down for some super powers.
- Location
- universe
if she wants instant power without training, she should wish for accelerator's vector manipulation. it completely no sells anything ki related, upto and including majin Buu ark powerlevels:.Vector Manipulation | Superpower Wiki | Fandom powered by Wikia
midnightmissiles
Princess of Memes, Shitposts, and Puns
Coffee is a helluva drug.
Yamcha 1
midnightmissiles
Princess of Memes, Shitposts, and Puns
… Did you ever count how many times we could have died?
Yamcha couldn't sleep those nights. It was nights like these, when his adventures following Bulma Briefs for the past year came back in the form of dreams that... he felt better if he kept himself awake. He kept recounting the moment he decided to follow Bulma into civilization. He hadn't counted the dangerous the girl had faced; he wasn't there for the most of it to begin with.
But ever since the first day he entered this vast, concrete jungle that was a human city, Yamcha began thinking about his life. He began thinking about what he was doing with himself and how could he was to that edge.
Bulma acted like the dragon had not granted her wish, since everything she showed him she acted like she already had before the wish.
Maybe she was right.
But Yamcha knew that wasn't the whole story, when they walked through the halls of Capsule Corporation that the sheer fear and reverence Bulma commanded in the people around her sent shivers down his spine. The guards in their blue uniforms, the assistants in their white laboratory coats, and the receptionist with the big breasts, they all shied away from Bulma's view.
As she strode into her home, butlers and maids bowed to her every whim. They acted as if they existed to serve her. And the buildings around them, were all taller than the tallest trees he'd ever seen, yet they were all subservient to the main Capsule Corporation building. They circled around it like cavemen huddled around a flame, needing the Briefs' company to thrive and provide themselves with sustenance.
Bulma showed him some of her factories on the first day. Every gesture she made was with practiced ease, with an elegance that spoke of confidence and practice. Each of her off-hand comments shook Yamcha right down to his toes.
"We make 40% of the cars in the world, that's two out of every five." She had remarked as if speaking about the weather, "I'm sure we'll get to a hundred percent in a couple years."
Yamcha would have questioned it, but he was too shocked.
This was the girl he wanted to court? She was the one he wanted to date?
He felt then like a frog in a well, staring at the moon. No matter how he jumped, no matter how hard he reached for what was above him, he couldn't do it. Yamcha felt something in him break, and his stride ever since had not had the same self confidence as it had. He couldn't do this, he thought to himself.
This girl was out of his league...
… but that was just his first day in West City.
Thankfully, Bulma hadn't bothered to surprise him like that for a while since.
She left him to his devices, and allowed him to settle in with a healthy stipend and her assistants were more than happy to answer any of his more technical questions. He felt he could live in the city; it wasn't lonely here. But Bulma rarely spent her time with him.
It might have saddened him once, a few days ago perhaps, but now he just felt relief that he didn't have to stare into her eyes and talk.
Sports came easily to him, and he joined some high school level sports team, which had its ups and downs, but apparently baseball was popular enough that he was never without someone who wanted to be his friend on his merits alone. For some reason, that wasn't enough for him. He had gotten over the shock of the city by then, and he had almost regained his confidence.
Looking back, he could only laugh. How could he have been so stupid?
What happened next broke any resolve to chase after the girl.
She allowed him to visit her, seeing nothing wrong with it all.
He wanted to prove himself, so he asked his questions and tried so hard to be competent.
"What's this?" He had asked.
"Oh, that? It turns anything I'm thinking about into reality. Well, that's the gist of it anyway." She didn't even look up from her work. It was like she was just talking about how tomorrow was going to be partly cloudy.
"I'm not sure I understand," Yamcha tried for clarification.
"I took the concept from Norimaki, but there's like a dozen other inventions by other scientists that can supplement it. I call it a matter fabricator, but anything I can think of—it doesn't even have to be exact—I can turn into something real. Like a reality machine, if it wasn't spawned in a gag manga, I guess." She tucked a stray strand behind her ear. This motion made him yearn for her then, again, and yet not. It was humanizing that she still made these gestures but...
But... he thought more and more on the subject, and it became more and more obvious to him that he was just a regular human being in a very scary world. Maybe if she had not urged for him to think along those lines, he never would have but now...
He was afraid.
Bulma could literally create anything from her dreams. She was like a faerie queen of the legends, who was so strange and yet literal and scatterbrained and powerful. She ruled her realm, and there were no questions or objections allowed.
Goku was a monkey boy who turned into a giant gorilla large enough to be the stuffs of nightmares. He couldn't be hurt by bullet or sword, and he was constant growing, constantly making Yamcha feel so inadequate.
These were the people at his side, Yamcha thought. These were monsters out of legends, and he was just an ordinary man.
He looked back at Bulma, who was humming some childish tune while bashing together some new contraption.
How could he have ever dared yearn for her?
The very sight of her felt inhuman to Yamcha.
He didn't even dare speak more than he needed around her. Every word might give her an idea to turn her attention towards him. He had seen her weirder, more organic experiments. He didn't want to end up on the operation table.
At the same time, he knew he thought of Bulma as a friend.
And of course, boner never helped.
It was all very confusing.
Now, months later, Yamcha felt antsy and stifled and scared. Sports and schooling seemed to occupy his time, but he felt like they held nothing of substance to him. It felt like he was wasting away here, where Bulma left him. Every so often, he tried to practice a little of his martial arts, and he felt like that ferocity was slipping away from him in this cradle of civilization.
He wanted to do something, he wanted to work with his hands. Baseball didn't allow him to bash the opposing team with his bat, so he had to work off that stress somewhere else.
Bulma tried to encourage him to meet other girls, but really, which girl could compare to her? Fear boner didn't help either. Apparently his school classes told him that was a natural reaction. So maybe schooling wasn't useless, but he still didn't like it. He knew he couldn't have her, so it confused him so much that he was only attracted to something he couldn't have.
Maybe it was nice that he was actually able to appreciate that he was so introspective now, due to his experiences. Maybe if Bulma would stop showing up in his nightmares, he could think clearly.
At least he could admit now that those were nightmares.
He started working as a handy man, and then he used his instincts and enhanced senses, which all of course paled compared to Goku's senses but were vastly outpacing that of the people around him, to solve problems. It allowed him to get into fights with what few gangsters lounged around in West City. It allowed him to develop a consultant-like relationship with the local police. It was nice to do this sort of work—even if it was dangerous, even if sometimes he had to leave the city to kill dinosaurs or something, it was better than to glimpse into the dark abyss known as Bulma's mind.
It let him work off that energy and he was happy for dreamless nights. Not that he wouldn't show up if Bulma called, but he hoped to just avoid her whenever possible, for those dreamless nights. So Yamcha engaged himself in these small, meaningless tasks and he relished in them. He even had a name card these days.
It was a nice little inane piece of paper. But holding it seemed to give him some semblance of control on how he defined his life. He felt better for it. He'll just ignore the phone call obvious from Bulma for just another minute. Yeah, he could just close his eyes and imagine he was an ordinary handyman, who knew he was too small to solve the big problems in life, so he could just not. Yeah, no Bulma...
Yeah... maybe he could have the next batch of name cards embossed. That'd be pretty awesome.
Yamcha couldn't sleep those nights. It was nights like these, when his adventures following Bulma Briefs for the past year came back in the form of dreams that... he felt better if he kept himself awake. He kept recounting the moment he decided to follow Bulma into civilization. He hadn't counted the dangerous the girl had faced; he wasn't there for the most of it to begin with.
But ever since the first day he entered this vast, concrete jungle that was a human city, Yamcha began thinking about his life. He began thinking about what he was doing with himself and how could he was to that edge.
Bulma acted like the dragon had not granted her wish, since everything she showed him she acted like she already had before the wish.
Maybe she was right.
But Yamcha knew that wasn't the whole story, when they walked through the halls of Capsule Corporation that the sheer fear and reverence Bulma commanded in the people around her sent shivers down his spine. The guards in their blue uniforms, the assistants in their white laboratory coats, and the receptionist with the big breasts, they all shied away from Bulma's view.
As she strode into her home, butlers and maids bowed to her every whim. They acted as if they existed to serve her. And the buildings around them, were all taller than the tallest trees he'd ever seen, yet they were all subservient to the main Capsule Corporation building. They circled around it like cavemen huddled around a flame, needing the Briefs' company to thrive and provide themselves with sustenance.
Bulma showed him some of her factories on the first day. Every gesture she made was with practiced ease, with an elegance that spoke of confidence and practice. Each of her off-hand comments shook Yamcha right down to his toes.
"We make 40% of the cars in the world, that's two out of every five." She had remarked as if speaking about the weather, "I'm sure we'll get to a hundred percent in a couple years."
Yamcha would have questioned it, but he was too shocked.
This was the girl he wanted to court? She was the one he wanted to date?
He felt then like a frog in a well, staring at the moon. No matter how he jumped, no matter how hard he reached for what was above him, he couldn't do it. Yamcha felt something in him break, and his stride ever since had not had the same self confidence as it had. He couldn't do this, he thought to himself.
This girl was out of his league...
… but that was just his first day in West City.
Thankfully, Bulma hadn't bothered to surprise him like that for a while since.
She left him to his devices, and allowed him to settle in with a healthy stipend and her assistants were more than happy to answer any of his more technical questions. He felt he could live in the city; it wasn't lonely here. But Bulma rarely spent her time with him.
It might have saddened him once, a few days ago perhaps, but now he just felt relief that he didn't have to stare into her eyes and talk.
Sports came easily to him, and he joined some high school level sports team, which had its ups and downs, but apparently baseball was popular enough that he was never without someone who wanted to be his friend on his merits alone. For some reason, that wasn't enough for him. He had gotten over the shock of the city by then, and he had almost regained his confidence.
Looking back, he could only laugh. How could he have been so stupid?
What happened next broke any resolve to chase after the girl.
She allowed him to visit her, seeing nothing wrong with it all.
He wanted to prove himself, so he asked his questions and tried so hard to be competent.
"What's this?" He had asked.
"Oh, that? It turns anything I'm thinking about into reality. Well, that's the gist of it anyway." She didn't even look up from her work. It was like she was just talking about how tomorrow was going to be partly cloudy.
"I'm not sure I understand," Yamcha tried for clarification.
"I took the concept from Norimaki, but there's like a dozen other inventions by other scientists that can supplement it. I call it a matter fabricator, but anything I can think of—it doesn't even have to be exact—I can turn into something real. Like a reality machine, if it wasn't spawned in a gag manga, I guess." She tucked a stray strand behind her ear. This motion made him yearn for her then, again, and yet not. It was humanizing that she still made these gestures but...
But... he thought more and more on the subject, and it became more and more obvious to him that he was just a regular human being in a very scary world. Maybe if she had not urged for him to think along those lines, he never would have but now...
He was afraid.
Bulma could literally create anything from her dreams. She was like a faerie queen of the legends, who was so strange and yet literal and scatterbrained and powerful. She ruled her realm, and there were no questions or objections allowed.
Goku was a monkey boy who turned into a giant gorilla large enough to be the stuffs of nightmares. He couldn't be hurt by bullet or sword, and he was constant growing, constantly making Yamcha feel so inadequate.
These were the people at his side, Yamcha thought. These were monsters out of legends, and he was just an ordinary man.
He looked back at Bulma, who was humming some childish tune while bashing together some new contraption.
How could he have ever dared yearn for her?
The very sight of her felt inhuman to Yamcha.
He didn't even dare speak more than he needed around her. Every word might give her an idea to turn her attention towards him. He had seen her weirder, more organic experiments. He didn't want to end up on the operation table.
At the same time, he knew he thought of Bulma as a friend.
And of course, boner never helped.
It was all very confusing.
Now, months later, Yamcha felt antsy and stifled and scared. Sports and schooling seemed to occupy his time, but he felt like they held nothing of substance to him. It felt like he was wasting away here, where Bulma left him. Every so often, he tried to practice a little of his martial arts, and he felt like that ferocity was slipping away from him in this cradle of civilization.
He wanted to do something, he wanted to work with his hands. Baseball didn't allow him to bash the opposing team with his bat, so he had to work off that stress somewhere else.
Bulma tried to encourage him to meet other girls, but really, which girl could compare to her? Fear boner didn't help either. Apparently his school classes told him that was a natural reaction. So maybe schooling wasn't useless, but he still didn't like it. He knew he couldn't have her, so it confused him so much that he was only attracted to something he couldn't have.
Maybe it was nice that he was actually able to appreciate that he was so introspective now, due to his experiences. Maybe if Bulma would stop showing up in his nightmares, he could think clearly.
At least he could admit now that those were nightmares.
He started working as a handy man, and then he used his instincts and enhanced senses, which all of course paled compared to Goku's senses but were vastly outpacing that of the people around him, to solve problems. It allowed him to get into fights with what few gangsters lounged around in West City. It allowed him to develop a consultant-like relationship with the local police. It was nice to do this sort of work—even if it was dangerous, even if sometimes he had to leave the city to kill dinosaurs or something, it was better than to glimpse into the dark abyss known as Bulma's mind.
It let him work off that energy and he was happy for dreamless nights. Not that he wouldn't show up if Bulma called, but he hoped to just avoid her whenever possible, for those dreamless nights. So Yamcha engaged himself in these small, meaningless tasks and he relished in them. He even had a name card these days.
Lord Yamcha
MARTIAL ARTIST
Lost Items Found and Supernatural Investigations
Consulting and Advice
Reasonable Rates
No Entertainment or Performances
MARTIAL ARTIST
Lost Items Found and Supernatural Investigations
Consulting and Advice
Reasonable Rates
No Entertainment or Performances
It was a nice little inane piece of paper. But holding it seemed to give him some semblance of control on how he defined his life. He felt better for it. He'll just ignore the phone call obvious from Bulma for just another minute. Yeah, he could just close his eyes and imagine he was an ordinary handyman, who knew he was too small to solve the big problems in life, so he could just not. Yeah, no Bulma...
Yeah... maybe he could have the next batch of name cards embossed. That'd be pretty awesome.
Baladar
Mad Scientist in Training
- Location
- Louisiana
Yamcha has become Dresden and Bulma is his fairy fearmother......wut?!?!?!?!?
Older-than-Time
[Eating My Muse]
- Location
- Somewhere in the Sol System
- Pronouns
- He/Him/ThatIdiot
Because this isn't a smash-fest or a story where they're overly dramatic and emotional over throwing a punch?
It really can't be like other DB-fics because this one is focused on a character who is usually a noncombatant and has another perspective on everyone's lives.
Sorta serious, sorta crack Bulma fic.
We haven't even gotten to Radiz guys, Bulma might be heading a rival to the Planet Trade Organization by then. If she's not selling pocket dimensions instead.
We haven't even gotten to Radiz guys, Bulma might be heading a rival to the Planet Trade Organization by then. If she's not selling pocket dimensions instead.
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midnightmissiles
Princess of Memes, Shitposts, and Puns
From your comments, I know you have never watched Dragonball, only DBZ and afterwards. Good on you, but it should have been obvious from the get go to any reader of average intellect that this wasn't going to be a hotblooded shounen fighting manga.
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- Location
- Elsewhere
You think Bulma will settle for selling pocket dimensions?
She'll be selling actual dimensions!
One Worm-verse, very worn, infested with parasites...
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Kuriboh
Self Insert Junkie
- Location
- Ohio
There wouldn't be any parasites. Bulma could find a way to get rid of them AND the golden emo in like month.
- Location
- U.s.a.
From your comment, you like to assume that you know the thoughts of someone whom you don't know anything about.
DB was a wacky manga based off of Dr. Slump. It was mostly joyful and humorous with some tension in between. You'll notice that I said DB, not DBZ, never have I written DBZ, so that in itself is telling considering you responded to me through DBZ.
Of course, if insulting my intellect using something I haven't even hinted at (DBZ, Shonen) is the best option you set upon, then good luck to you.
midnightmissiles
Princess of Memes, Shitposts, and Puns
What confuses me here is that I can't tell who is even a "highest bidder" for the Planet Trade Organization, if they are the dominant force in the galaxy at the time Frieza was running around. I understand there are other galactic powers, but, they're like the Galactic King, all slapped around by Frieza like a couple of retarded babies.
Would probably have to do worldbuilding if we get there... I mean, what's so great about planets? Why sell planets instead of something that might matter? What kind of currency do they even use that would be of value to Frieza? Considering all his people are around because they fear him, it's all very convoluted.
Probably doesn't even offer healthcare or dental.
Oh, of course I know nothing about you as a person. But I know you're a lazy reviewer from the way you've reviewed in this thread. I know you're confrontational from the get go. Quoting an entire chapter and saying "this is jarring" does not help anyone and cannot be taken in anyway as constructive. Sure, I am assuming things about you, but I know that you did not come here with exactly good intentions. Can you really say it was anything different?
I know you said DB, but why do you think I'm saying it that way? You are talking about the setting as if it were DBZ. Dragonball started off as a gag manga, sure, but it has more than a few serious moments and it grew so with each arc. It dealt with starvation and it deals with death and all sorts of other serious topics, and it was still a fresh setting where death wasn't trivialized. Also selectively ignoring that you didn't mention a thing about Dr. Slump before this post is also a bit disingenuous.
I may be confrontational in my answer, but that's because you set the mood by being so first. If you are really insulted because you thought a character who focuses on solving problems through science and engineering should be doing, as you say, wacky stunts or running head first into armies and demons, then I'd have to tell you that you don't even know the Dragonball Z setting very well, because you seem to not know who Bulma is. Besides, if you did know the character and the setting, then you'd know what this was probably about, then that couldn't have been an insult. So if you're insulted, I can only conclude that there's some inconsistencies in your claims to "know Dragonball".
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- Location
- Paradise, Hawaii
Is it bad I can picture *Caffine* Bulma authorizing a "Super Size" version of her Fabricator, to then make a Full Super Size Underground Facility based on Portal & Glados on the Moon with her Portal gun?
I mean, I know he turns to a Giant Monkey when the moon is out, but what happens if he is in a full simulated environment on the moon? Seeing a 'Full Planet'?
Bulma comments the Planet is a "Death World", why not move off it and make the moon useful?
Then totally forget about it as her A.I.'s make a Starbase/ Moon/ Death Star?
I mean, I know he turns to a Giant Monkey when the moon is out, but what happens if he is in a full simulated environment on the moon? Seeing a 'Full Planet'?
Bulma comments the Planet is a "Death World", why not move off it and make the moon useful?
Then totally forget about it as her A.I.'s make a Starbase/ Moon/ Death Star?