Dragon Ball: After the End

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X] Notify your father immediately.
-[X] Discuss the possibility of asking him to break the seal in response to this new threat with the rest of the conspiracy, and work out what arguments and information you can safely use
-[X] If the others agree, convince him to convince Dandeer to break the Seal.
[X] Prepare.
-[X] It is going to sting your pride more than you can stomach contemplating, but you're going to go to Jaffur and Jaron and tell them that they were right; they can wait. Repurpose conspiracy action by requesting a crash course in Jaffur's trick.
-[X] Abandon your saiyan-facing stewardship duties in order to free up training time. Your people will understand.
-[X] Abandon Transcendence action.
-[X] Abandon perfect multiform research (again).

Public Relations​

"It is my pleasure to introduce the Scion of Goku: Kakara!"

Lights come on with a heavy thump, and you put your public face on, smiling as cheers sound from every side.

* * *
​

"Dad, we have better things to be doing," you say, walking alongside your father along the rim of the Training Hall. "I need to be training. I have work to do!"

"And you're doing work," he says, patting you on the shoulder. "You're really applying yourself lately. But you've stepped back from your initial plan of helping me on the saiyan side -- not that that is a bad thing by any means, you understand, but it is a thing -- so you need to do something to touch base with people. This will be good practice."

"There's only going to be four of us!" you say, crossing your arms. "In my vision we were still having trouble."

Four indeed -- not five. You wound up not asking your father about unsealing Jaffur after all.

* * *
​

"Absolutely not," says Yammar, shaking his head.

You blink, taken aback. "What? Why not?"

Grandma sighs. "Kakara, I understand why you want to do this. I really do. He's your father. He's my son. I want to have him on our side, too. But it's a bad idea."

"Say you're right," says Head Raditz, crossing his arms. "Say that the rift between your father and Dandeer has widened to the point where he can be talked around to our side. Say he goes to Dandeer to speak with her about it."

"She'll say no," says Yammar. "More than that, she'll panic. If you share the truth of what happened with Berra, and he shares it with Dandeer, she'll refuse to believe it. She'll demand he give her the chance to confirm -- she won't want to believe it, especially when the information comes from you. And when she learns that it's true..."

Your eyes widen. "She'll snuff Jaron out in a second."

"At the very least she'll reinforce the Seal," says Grandma. "I imagine that Jaron's destruction would be...merely an unfortunate side effect."

"There's a reason we're not going to her until we're ready to contain her," says Yammar. "She's unstable. And she's dangerous."

* * *​

With the prospect of breaking the Seal for this still dangerous for Jaron, four super saiyans is all that you're going to have.

And you're still spending time on, of all things, an interview.

"This feels..." You frown, grasping for a good word.

"Pointless?" he says, raising an eyebrow.

"Frivolous," you decide.

He snorts. "You've been reading lately, I see."

You kick him in the ankle. He laughs.

"I just feel like there are better things I could be doing," you grumble.

"Papata Fren is our people's only actual media celebrity," says Dad, subsiding. "Appearing with her is a great opportunity, especially live."

"But this is going to be on TV!" you say, crossing your arms. "She's a radio host! How does that make sense?"

"There's not a huge saiyan market for television," says your father, shrugging. "We don't have regular programming. Watching Garenhulder programs fills the demand well enough. But we do have the ability for broadcasts, and for something like this, I imagine Miss Fren decided that she wanted to get the most out of it. It was the same back when I was Scion, and her predecessor's predecessor's...well, the host at the time...interviewed me. They pull out all the stops for interviews with the noble families."

* * *
​

"You can expect a live audience."

Your father's words echo in your mind as you step across the stage, raising your hand to the crowd. Live audience indeed -- Miss Fren decided to reserve part of the Training Hall's public area for this. The same Hall presently doubling as a refugee camp for most of the saiyan race.

She only reserved exactly as much space as she needed.

"Everything about her chosen stage is going to be very carefully tuned to the effect she wants to convey."

The stage is a raised platform, massive in scope, with you and Miss Fren reduced to tiny pinpricks against the sheer size of it. There's a screen erected in back -- at the moment, it shows a zoomed-in version of your face, as a too-fast-to-follow glance back reveals.

"As for Fren herself, respect her abilities. Just because she isn't a fighter by trade doesn't mean she didn't fight for her position. Saiyans compete -- and being the only person reading off the news is a heady prize to draw competitors. She has a mind like a steel trap and a tongue like a razor blade, when she wants to use it. She'll remember everything you say and make you pay for it if you're not careful."

You approach Miss Fren, in the center of the stage, and turn your gaze to her. Her setup is a fairly informal one. An area rug breaks up the painted plywood of the stage. Two comfortable armchairs sit on opposite sides of a coffee table, angled out towards the audience. On the table sit two water glasses, a couple of magazines, and a centerpiece in an understated display. A casual atmosphere, then, despite the audience.

You meet Miss Fren's eyes. Despite her picture-perfect smile, there's just a hint of an assessing glint which you manage to notice. For a moment, as you sit, you watch her, taking in her body language -- relaxed, curled up in her chair as though it's in her own home, in nice but comfortable clothes, with her hair left untied and very artfully casual, tumbling down about her neck. She watches you, watching her, and you watch that.

"She might be one of the few people I'd give decent odds in an argument with you."

The little glint brightens into the kind of eager gleam you're used to seeing from Jaffur, and she tilts her head just slightly in a nod.

Feeling an ember of competitive spirit kindling in your belly, you nod back, a slight conspiratorial tilt to your smile.

There's just a flash of teeth to her smile, so slight you would miss it if you weren't ten feet away from her.

And then her expression is back to perfect, gregarious pleasantry, and she angles herself a bit more towards the audience without breaking eye contact. "Welcome to the show, Scion," she says, voice loud and clear for the microphones.

You give her your best polite, good-girl-Scion smile back, and reply just as clearly, "Thank you for inviting me, Miss Fren."

Papata Fren Communication skill: Elite.

---

I will point out that you all willingly chose to accept a social boss battle interview with a professional talker radio host. :lol

What are you ready to talk about? Voting is by line; any topics you write in will be accepted as something for which Kakara has prepared (not necessarily something that she's going to bring up; remember that the interviewer has the initiative), and the winning approach for those topics will be by plurality as normal. As always, you do not have to vote for everything.

Spoiler: Topics

[ ] The Sealing.
-[ ] Official story.
-[ ] Proclaim opposition.
-[ ] Tell what really happened that day.
-[ ] Reveal the truth about Jaffur and Jaron's situation. (Locked out due to consultation with conspirators.)
-[ ] No comment. (In and of itself an implied comment, given the official story and Dandeer's now-public hatred for you.)
[ ] Your Sight.
-[ ] Publicize.
-[ ] Keep it secret.
[ ] Invasion.
-[ ] Can't comment.
-[ ] War stories only. Saiyan love war stories.
-[ ] Broad comments on what you know to be coming.
-[ ] All known intelligence is on the table for the asking.
[X] Dragon.
-[X] You and Dad are not making the dragon public knowledge in a live interview. It can wait for the press release.
[ ] Personal life.
-[ ] Justify human focus.
-[ ] Acknowledge relative lack of saiyan focus as growth area.
-[ ] Off the table.
[ ] Relationship with Lady Vegeta.
-[ ] You have no problems with her. (Deceit check, but wow does she look like a bitch if you succeed.)
-[ ] You don't get along very well.
-[ ] You dislike her.
-[ ] Full disclosure (You hate her, you hate her very much, and you're explaining exactly why).
-[ ] No comment. (Again, itself an implied comment given the obvious animosity.)
[ ] Write-in topics, and broad approaches of similar detail to the examples above. May also write-in approaches to the above topics, again at the above levels of detail.

THESE VOTES ARE NOW CLOSED

And here we finally are! Took a lot longer getting here than I imagined.

I've been waiting to get Fren on-screen. Given the obvious, she's somebody who will be of interest to Kakara going forward. Why haven't I introduced her before? Because Berra has been actively keeping you from the press.

For this vote, I'll emphasize -- write in approaches, not wording. It'd take too long and make the vote hopelessly intimidating. Besides, phrasing will need to wait until Kakara has questions to answer, and I don't plan to break for every question; we'd be for weeks. No, we're just deciding for what Kakara has prepared, and how. After that we turn it over to the dice, the skills, and the traits.

Have fun, folks, and I hope you enjoyed!

TWO HOUR MORATORIUM, AS ALWAYS​

 

[Quest]

Frustration​

The time is coming soon.

The day that your people will face your greatest opponent since the Enemy himself. This is an enemy that you know surpasses you, without any doubt. Because you have Seen it.

Four Golden Oozaru. that's what you used to face it. And that still wasn't enough. What else could you do?

Your skill isn't enough. Your body isn't enough. You need so much more.

And so, you sit in a Sealed chamber that will hide your power, and then let it go free. You can feel the rush of unrestrained power, and you let it blossom to your full base might.

Right now, you were beyond every living saiyin even if you weren't wielding your full potential. Yet, you knew that this wasn't enough. This wasn't the Scouts, who you could so easily talk down and defeat. This wasn't the Faith, who regarded you as a demigod. This wasn't the nuclear bombs, which only needed you to find them.

This wasn't even your father, who you knew would still protect your people in the end.

This was so much more, and what you had simply wasn't enough. You couldn't lose. You risked something more than your friends and family. You risked your people.

You felt a weight settle on your shoulders. A weight that you hadn't realized existed. The weight you needed to shoulder for your ideals, to protect all that you cared for.

You took in a deep breath, and let loose the false moon. You looked at it, and took it in.

And you grew as your power doubled. And then you stood as a Great Ape. The world was so slow. Seconds weren't worth counting. You could keep up with units smaller and smaller then that with ease.

Not enough.

You roared as your aura flashed across the entire area.

And the world turned Gold.

With pure will, you drew forth from the well of power within you. As much as you dared. Time slowed even more, and your mind raced ever faster. This was your greatest achievement. The Golden Oozaru.

But still, even as you came close to straining the wards you wondered if this was enough. Your mind raced with your power, even as your body slowed with the transformation. Would this be enough, you wondered? Would this power be enough to aid you?

Perhaps it was enough, but you could not chance that.

Even with this, you couldn't face your foe.

Even with this, you weren't ready.

Grandpa, Grandma and dad were on your level, and you knew that in skill they certainly surpassed you. You should've been stronger.

You screamed in frustration.

You let it all out.

Jaffur was right.

And honestly you didn't know if this was going to be enough.

The weight of the world was on your shoulders, and you didn't know if you were enough.

You laughed. Was this how all the Z-fighters felt?

 

[Quest]

The Other Side
​

You live for this.

A show. An audience.

This feeling is heady.

A live performance, with a crowd watching your every move. One mistake could bring those wolves down upon you. One mistake could earn the most powerful of enemies. One mistake could end your career.

You live for this.

Today wasn't just an interview.

There was so much going on. So many new things in the horizon. The Sealing of the Lord and Scion of Vegeta. The Faith and their Second Council. The discovery of the Golden Oozaru. The Scouts and an alien invasion. The end of the Masquerade, and a single powerful human girl.

So many things had happened, and all in the last four years. It was a time of turmoil and change, and all of these had only one person at its center. The Scion of Goku, the girl known as Kakara the Gold. That was the girl who was walking towards you right now.

Lights come on with a heavy thump, and you put your public face on, smiling as cheers sound from every side.

"It is my pleasure to introduce the Scion of Goku: Kakara!"

You had heard the rumors of course. Who hadn't? This was the girl who became a Super Saiyin in battle, who was supposedly the cause of the Seal for your Scion. This was the girl who had commanded the Faith and mediated it though it's course, standing firm against even the Butcher of the Talt. The one who surpassed the Super Saiyin form in a way beyond even the Ancestors. She'd certainly had a colourful career.

The Scion takes a seat before you. And you see her watch you, take you in. And you can see that she sees you watching her too. You tilt your head in acknowledgement. She nods back, a slight conspiratorial tilt to her smile.

So the rumours were true.

But you also remembered that the Scion had never officially said anything regarding the Sealing. You remembered the rumours of her relationship with the Lady Vegeta.

There was a lot going on in the surface here. You knew that from experience.

You've also had a very colourful career.

"Welcome to the show, Scion," you says, raising your voice to include the audience.

The Scion gave you a very good-girl smile, and replied just as clearly, "Thank you for inviting me, Miss Fren."

You smiled back.

A show. An audience. And now an opponent.

This was so much fun.

 

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Votes

[X] Your Sight.
-[X] Keep it secret.
[X] Jaron
-[X] Praise his courage and desire to protect people.
-[X] Decline to speculate on whether the Seal is slipping.
[X] Personal life.
-[X] Justify human focus.
-[X] Acknowledge relative lack of saiyan focus as growth area.
[X] The Sealing.
-[X] No comment. (In and of itself an implied comment, given the official story and Dandeer's now-public hatred for you.)
[X] Relationship with Lady Vegeta.
-[X] No comment.
[X] Romantic Concerns
-[X] Not a particular priority, you haven't really thought about it. Ask again in a few year?
[X] The Faith
-[X] Confirm stance taken during the Council.
[X] Maya
-[X] Status as a mutant and benefits for masquerade, acknowledge potential concerns.
[X] Personal Combat Skills
-[X] Admit difficulty in finding the right style.
[X] Invasion.
-[x] All known intelligence is on the table for the asking.
[X] Thoughts on the partial breach of the Masquerade
-[X] We were already preparing to reveal the existence of Ki. Those preparations turned a crisis into an opportunity.

On the Grill
​

Fren shimmies in her chair, looking quite comfortable. "Thank you for agreeing to come. We know you've tended to stay out of public before."

You shrug, smiling. "Dad always said there'd be time for that when I was older."

"Well, you certainly are older now," she says, chuckling. "It's a pleasure to have you with us." She gives you a smile. "So, what have you been doing out of the public view for so long? Of course, even the Garenhulders know that you have an active social life as a human, but we Exiles have hardly seen you at all."
Communication [Kakara vs. Papata]: 78 vs. 72. Pass.
You relax a bit. You'd prepared for this question, although it's not the one you'd expected to come first. "Honestly? I'm not really that happy about it. I only really have one saiyan friend, and I always wanted more."

Fren tilts her head. "So why spend time in the human world? You have quite the group of friends there. I'm sure you could have made friends in our world."

You shrug, and it's not simply easy to put a flash of pain on your face; it's natural. You have a tougher time keeping it to just a flash. "I tried. Back before I was a Super Saiyan, I tried to make friends with a lot of people. It didn't work."

The audience mutters uncomfortably, doubtlessly remembering that it was entirely thanks to their efforts that their children avoided and ridiculed you, before the Sealing. You feel a flash of contempt, although you stamp on it before it shows; they're usually quite content to forget about that when you're not pointing it out.

Fren nods. "Of course. It couldn't have been easy. But surely that's not a problem anymore?"

"Maybe not," you say. "But it's hard to go looking when I still remember how it used to be."

Silence. Shamed silence.

You smile. "Still, I hope I'll find people to make friends with eventually. I like people. And you're my people. I'm hoping the tournament that's coming soon will give me a chance."

"The tournament, hm?" asks Fren as people begin to mutter, this time in excitement. "You will be attending, then?"

"Of course I will," you say, shrugging with a smile. "It's tradition, after all!"

A few people cheer at that, and Fren nods slightly. "Will you be participating?"
Improvise [Communication, Kakara vs. DC]: 61, Pass.
"I haven't decided yet," you say. "There are a lot of reasons either way, and Dad's only closing the competitors' list the day before."

"Fair enough," she replies. "So, what does have you so busy in the human world? We know you have friends, and of course everybody knows about Miss Webley. What drew you to them?"

You giggle. "That was Sophie."

Fren raises her eyebrows at you. "Sophie...Schultz, I assume?"

"Yeah," you say. "She's the one who brought us all together. She was friends with Jenny and Maya, and then they met Gemma and brought her in. Sophie decided she wanted me to be their friend too later."

Fren covers her mouth, eyes sparkling. You can't help but notice that her expression is visible from one of the camera angles. "Decided, hm?"

You snort. "If Sophie wants you to be her friend, you wind up as her friend quick, believe me."

General laughter follows that, and Fren's hand comes down, revealing a wide grin. "She sounds like quite the girl. But she's not the only one in that group. What about Maya? She's been on everybody's minds lately. Your father has said that she's a ki mutant. Was that what prompted you to start paying her special attention?"

You chew your cheek, pondering how to respond. "Well...kinda? Maya was my friend before I learned about her being a ki mutant. She noticed that I never really got hurt like other people did and thought I was like her, and I noticed her watching me more than the others did, but I didn't only just start paying attention to her because I knew she had ki."

"Oh, of course," says Fren, waving her hand. "But once you did know..."

"I knew that I had to train her," you say. "She already knew about ki -- well, she thought it was superpowers. But she knew she had it, and she knew I had it, and she was my friend. I would do the same for any of them."

"And indeed you have," she replies. "We've all felt you training them. They're improving rather quickly, for humans. I suppose they have a good teacher?" She gives you a teasing smile.

Your cheeks pink. "I mean, I guess? I don't...well, okay, I guess I do know a lot about this stuff."

Everybody starts laughing at your false start at modesty. Really, a Scion trying to be modest about her knowledge of ki -- that's funny.

Fren shakes her head, giggling. "And what about Scion Jaffur?"

Silence. Ringing silence.

"Oh, excuse me," she says, pulling out a note card and glancing at it. "'Jaron Somerlad,' I believe he's called while under human Masque." Her voice echoes in the sudden hush as she pockets the card. "We've certainly all felt him. I never thought I would again, once we received...well, the news."

You blink, hauling yourself under control. You were not expecting a change in subject like this. "I'm sorry, what were you asking?"

"Oh, I'm being vague," she says, still smiling. "My apologies. What brought on his sudden surge of strength when the scouts attacked your school? Is that him, breaking through the Seal his mother set?"

You swallow. "Sorry, I don't really know. I only saw Jaron."

She gives you a very slow and deliberate blink. "And is that so big a difference? Lady Dandeer has told us that they're the same person."

You smile, mouth dry. "Honestly, I really can't say. I never really knew Jaffur, but Jaron's my friend. I didn't see him acting any different when he powered up from what I'd expect from him."

Fren cocks her head. "And what is that? He's been very shielded since the Sealing. Few people have had the chance to get to know him."

"Jaron is one of the bravest people I know," you say. "He had no idea what was going on, but he jumped right in with Maya and me. He helped me take down the leader despite how scared I know he was, and ever since he's been asking me to teach him how to fight so that he can help when the invasion comes."
Communication [Kakara vs. Papata]: 89 vs. 67
She blinks. "He's going to be helping during the invasion?"

"He doesn't know," you say. "But he wants to be able to. Honestly, I really don't want any of my friends out during the invasion. But Jaron hates the idea of sitting around while other people fight to keep him safe."

She nods slowly. "I see. And his mother gave permission for this?"

"His Lord did," you say. "Lord Vegeta is still Lord Vegeta, even Sealed. He gave permission."

Fren gives you a sharp grin, all teeth. "Ah. Well, I'm happy to hear that." She leans back. "So on the topic of the human world, Scion, a lot of us have noticed that you're focusing much of your efforts there. You're training all of your friends, you're scheduled to appear with your father at the Garenhulders' Congress of Nations later this year, you're studying hard at school to remain a good student...by contrast, your planned appearance at your father's court last week was actually canceled, and you've essentially vanished from public life recently. In fact, you've rarely involved yourself in the saiyan world at all, even beyond your difficulties making friends. What is it about the humans that justifies so much of your attention compared to us?"
Communication Kakara vs. Papata]: 107 vs. 98
You actually relax a bit; you prepared for this question. "The things going on the the human world right now are very important to us. The Aramaians used nukes, and my Dad and I had to stop them. My friend is a ki mutant. The scouts are coming, and the humans know. We need to focus on the humans, because even though the ki secret is out, the rest of the Masquerade is still up, and the humans are the first part of keeping that together." You shrug. "I do know I need to spend time with my people, though. Like you said, my Dad has been planning for me to start sitting in when he's working."

"And also as I said, you've stopped going," says Fren. "What changed?"

You shrug. "I'm sorry. I can't talk about that just yet. Soon."

Her eyebrows shoot up. Perhaps she didn't expect you to, "no comment," her on that particular topic. "I see," she says. "Are you certain?"

You nod. "My Dad will be talking about it soon. He'll let you all know." You turn out to address the audience with that last bit. Then you look back to Fren. "I'd be happy to talk about something else."

She gives you a lidded gaze for a moment. Then she smiles ruefully. "Well, if you're offering."

You get the distinct feeling that you won't like her next choice of topic.

"I suppose there's one thing that always comes to mind when people talk about you, Scion Kakara," says Fren.

The smile slides right off your face.

She tilts her head in acknowledgement of the tension, but doesn't let it distract her. "The Sealing, of course. You helped your father and Lady Dandeer Seal Scion Jaffur. What happened that day? Details have been very sparse, aside from the broad strokes. What prompted you to join on their side?"

You return her look with one of stone. "No comment."

For the first time, you see her caught truly off guard. "I'm sorry?"

"No comment," you say, heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Fren cocks her head, blinking. "...none at all?"

"None."

She masters herself after a moment of silence. "Do you have any comment regarding Lady Dandeer's recent hostility towards you? Whenever the two of you appear in the same place, she gives you hostile glares, and she appears to be avoiding you as much as possible. What caused this breakdown? Previously, we knew that you met with her in private, but as far as we know, there's been no significant contact between you two save at the Ancestral Council. How did things devolve this far?"

"No comment," you repeat, folding your hands in your lap.
Communication [Kakara vs. Fren]: 78 vs 237
"Two questions, same answer," she says, propping her chin up on one hand. "In the wake of the Sealing, Lady Dandeer generally spoke well of you, Scion. Yet now she by all appearances hates you...and you answer, 'no comment.' The official story of the Sealing places you in line with your father, and it occurs that you have been not simply silent, but absent on the matter. And when asked...'no comment.' What exactly is it that you want to avoid discussing? Did things really happen as we've been told?" He eyes, despite her easy demeanor, are razor-sharp and gleaming.

You feel pressured and trapped by your own words. You swallow. "No comment."

Fren stares at you for a moment, still intent, before her gaze softens and something in her body language goes loose again. "Of course." She looks aside for a moment and then smiles, falling back into her public face. "Oh, it's about time for our break." She looks back at you. "Thank you again, Scion. We'll be going off the air for a few moments now." She turns to the audience. "We'll be back in a few minutes, everybody. Thank you so much for watching! We'll catch you again after the break!"

The tension dissolves as people start to cheer under her effortless charisma, and she stands.

"Backstage is open while we're on break," she says, smiling down at you. "Coming?"

And then you feel the brush of telepathy at your mind. If it's not too much to ask, I'd like a word in private before we're back on the air, she says.

---

[ ] Yes
[ ] No

THIS VOTE IS NOW CLOSED

Papata Fren's Elite Talent is that when pressing somebody for details they have implied but neglected to say outright, she gets exploding dice. Any time she rolls a 70 or higher (before bonuses), she rolls again and adds that to the results, with additional 70s continuing to explode. This doesn't force somebody to speak who -- like Kakara -- has resolved in advance not to say anything, but successes trip them up and snarl them, caught off-guard by the sudden conversational aggression and thereby revealing more than they intended.

Which is a pretty broken talent for a professional interviewer, honestly.

We close out this bit with the next update, folks, and then it's tournament time! But before then...will you have a word in private with Papata Fren?

Enjoy a simpler vote, folks, and I hope you had fun with the update! See you all next time!

TWO-HOUR MORATORIUM​

 

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X] Yes

Isn't This Supposed To Be More Maya's Problem?
​

You give her a bright smile and reply, "Sure thing!" with a chirp in your voice.

Her smile widens for a moment before she pivots back towards the edge of the stage and walks off, beckoning for you to follow. You hop up and do so. The audience cheers as you leave.

You shake your head as you pass off-stage. You're still not used to that.

"Feels weird, right?" says Fren, grinning down at you.

You blink, snapping out of the momentary fugue. "Um. I..."

She tilts her head at you, cocking an eyebrow. "Yes?"

You look down. "Okay, yeah. A little."

"You get used to it," she says, leading you on through the backstage area. "Most of the time, anyway. Sometimes it'll still hit you. That's just about all of the Exiles out there, and they're cheering for you."

You flush. "I mean, you're out there too..."

"I am not Princess Kakara," she says, smirking.

"Scion Kakara," you say on reflex.

"Half the world thinks of you as a Princess," she says, waving her hand. "And they're cheering for you because you went out there and acted like one should."

Your flush deepens. You've had compliments before, but from this woman? This woman who could, if she weren't probably soft-balling her questions, run rings around you? This woman who's taken the art you love and mastered it beyond anything you could imagine? "What do you mean?" you ask, trying not to grin like an idiot.

"You came out there with a message you wanted to sell, justifying who you are and the choices you've made instead of scraping in the dirt for a bit of validation," she says, opening a door for the both of you. "And I'd say you did pretty darn well." She steps through, and the two of you enter a dressing room.

At least, that's what you assume this is. It looks the part, even if it's pretty bare-bones given the speed of the construction. Fren takes a seat and gestures towards the other chair in the room, smiling. "There you go. Oh, and..." She plucks the microphone off of her shirt collar and pinches it into shrapnel. "Just to be clear about this."

You blink and smile. "Thank you."

She crumbles the remnants of the electronics off to the side. "Of course. I mean, either of us could still have one on under our shirts, but that..." She shrugs. "Eventually you just have to trust somebody, you know?"

You nod eagerly, paying close attention.

She props her chin up on her hand. "Off the record, Scion, what are you trying to get at today?"
Communication [Fren vs. Kakara]: 178 vs. 132.
You shrug without thinking. "I...don't really have any one thing in mind." You blush, a little embarrassed to admit that to her. "I mean, you invited me and I came, but it's the first time I've been up in front of everybody, and, well...there's a lot I need to talk about. I was ready for a lot of things, but I didn't have any one thing."

She nods and adopts a more clinical, lecturing tone. "That's a purpose. You're here to make an impression. You've appeared to the Cult, you've appeared to individuals. Now you're appearing to our people. You need to have a message in mind. An image. Which I saw that you did."

"Yeah!" you say, nodding as you listen. "I was trying to be a little casual about it. I want to look like I'm taking it seriously, but I didn't want to act all stiff and formal."

"It would have been out of place for the setting I gave you," she says, extending her fingers to cover her mouth.

The gesture cuts off a lot of your ability to read her expression, and you feel a little anxious. "Did...did I do it right?"

"I'd say so, yes," she says, a chuckle in her tone.

You duck your head, crestfallen. "...you're laughing at me."

"No, no!" she says, although she does laugh. Her hand comes away, revealing a bright grin. "Well, yes, laughing, but not at you."

"What at?" you ask, folding your arms.
Communication [Fren vs. Kakara]: 152 vs. 79.
"...you're adorable," she says, still grinning.

Your eyes widen, and you turn crimson. "Eep?" Your eyes widen further, and you slap your hands over your mouth, wishing that you could sink into the floor. Kais on high, this is how Maya feels all the time why meeeeeeeee?

Fren laughs again in spite of herself. "You are! You're twelve years old, but you're doing so well. It's impressive, and amazing to see, and it is adorable. I'm Vegetan, Scion. My nobility is formal and distant and never speaks to a journalist without using the social protocols. You are a cute little girl who leaks earnestness like a sieve." She curls up in her chair, giving you a wide smile.

You hide your face in your hands. "Thank you," you say, grinning wildly at the praise even as bashfulness strangles the words to squeaks. "I. Um. Thanks. That means a lot."

"Do you listen to my show?" asks Fren.

"I will," you say, instantly wondering whether you should have not said that. "But, um. No? I mean, just the yearly round-ups, I don't think it's dumb, I just-"

"It's fine, it's fine," she says, waving it off. "Somebody as comfortable with human culture as you has TV. Especially at your age, I know it's more interesting unless you like what's on the radio a lot." She leans back as you begin to master your blush and lower your hands. "I have to admit, I'm even more impressed with you now than I was out there. You're keeping it together very well if this is how you react to somebody praising you."

You giggle nervously. "Well, not everybody knows this stuff like you. I can tell you're better than me. And, um. Nobody. Actually calls me adorable? So I'm...not really sure how to react to that and I kinda feel like I'm breaking down and now I know how Maya feels all the time and. So." You blush again. "...did any of that make sense?"

"I think I just about managed to follow it, yes," she says, eyes sparkling. "Tell you what," she says, uncurling her legs and leaning forward, getting on eye level with you. You mimic the pose without a second's thought as she says, "I think you and I could work together on this, Scion," she says. "I have my own questions, yes, but I don't think we can't help each other here."

You get a bit of control over yourself and give her a guarded look. "I mean...it depends on your questions..."

"I'm not going to press you if you tell me you can't talk about it," she says. "I do want to ask again, though: you really can't talk about what caused you to withdraw from public recently?"
Communication [Fren vs. Kakara]: 112 vs. 91.
You relent a bit, shrugging. "I can't, but Dad's making an announcement really soon. It's short-notice, so I don't think he's sent invitations yet, but I'm pretty sure you'll be there."

"That's good enough for me," she says. "Other than that, I really did want to dig in to your Masqued life. A lot of people aren't the happiest about it, but I can see that there are so many fascinating stories there! Especially with your friend Jaron," she says. "I know that what you've said already is how you plan to move on, but do you think we could get some stories on that when we're back out there and chatting again? After that, I wanted to move on to talking about your appearance at the Ancestral Council. It was your first public appearance, but for anybody not a part of the Faith, it's all been secondhand. People have been dying to know. What do you say?"

---

Papata Fren is offering you the chance to work with her as a friendly interviewer if you work with her on what topics she wants to cover. Your response?

[ ] Yes. A thousand times yes. You want this woman on your side. *fangirling intensifies*
[ ] No. While nothing she's suggesting sounds objectionable, that itself is a little odd. You can still remember how she went for the throat near the end of that last bit of the interview.
[ ] Write-in. Counter-offers such as, "yes on this topic, no on this one," go here.

THIS VOTE IS NOW CLOSED.

Kakara is turning thirteen years old soon. She was going to be a massive fangirl about something eventually. Is there a bit of Mentor Crush in there as well? Who knows? Not Kakara; romance is still not on her mental map to a significant extent (the winning vote last time was literally, "dunno, haven't thought about it"). Not even she knows whether or not she likes girls. All she knows is that Papata Fren is really good at this and would totally be able to run rings around Kakara and she's so cool-

You get the idea. Little girl who gets nearly zero praise for her attitude and preferred skill set suddenly has somebody praising her for it? I'm sure you remembered what happened when Cynthia Balor did that, and Cynthia has no obvious qualifications as an expert in the art of being a pacifist the way Papata is so obviously skilled at the art of talking with people.

Hope you enjoyed the update, folks! Sorry about the delay; been harder to find free time lately, but I'm back in the game! See you soon!

TWO-HOUR MORATORIUM, AS PER USUAL​

 

[Simon_Jester]

The Shadow of Her Wings​

Sounds of school. The late bell. The eternal rustle of papers being passed forward.

You used to have science class in a brightly decorated classroom with walls covered in swooshy posters of maglev trains and supersonic airliners, sparkly posters of computers and stylized posters of cartoony viruses under attack by even more cartoony medicines. Then came the battle at the school.

Your ki blasts were tightly controlled, and you deflected the blasts the aliens threw at you up into the sky without trouble. You tried hard to move at time-compressed speed without touching off sonic booms and bomb-blast overpressure from the blows of your feet and fists. So did Dad and his warriors. Surprisingly, so did most of the aliens.

Meanwhile, Maya was fighting at two times the power level she'd ever managed before. Jaron, over seventeen thousand times, as far as you know. And they aren't as good as you at controlling their ki. They tried to be careful, they really did. Nothing burned down. Nothing fell down.

But most of the safety-glass windows cracked from the sound of Maya's fists impacting the green alien after you went down. A few patches of the roof look a bit saggy. Some of the bricks of the walls are discolored. Half the school building is fine; the other half is... probably safe.

Your brightly decorated science classroom is due to be looked over by a team of structural inspectors from the school district. When they get around to it. At least the men in yellow hazard suits with the clicking radiation counters went away, after they realized a ki battle left no radioactivity for them to detect.

Now you're in a temporary building hastily set up over one of the filled-in craters in the school parking lot, with a hole cut in the floor to scamper into the steel shelter underneath. The 'shelter' looks pretty flimsy, but it's probably strong enough to survive having a small house dropped on it. Which is worth a lot, you reflect, given that the average student has a power level of two or three.

You had your assignments ready to turn in from the moment you walked in the door, of course. The rest of the class mostly needed a little time to dig, while you... remembered.

Three different assignments. Four children pass their papers up to you, in a disorderly shambles. Out of reflex you frown and square the papers on your desk, then pass the sheaf forward to the boy in front of you. Mr. Carpenter walks along the front row, gathering up the sheaves of papers into a single stack.

"Maya?" Mr. Carpenter glances to your friend, who gets up to organize and alphabetize the papers. She nods hastily as she rises, lips pressed shut as though she expects the stammer to break out whether she says anything or not. He writes "Maya" on the board under the word "PARTICIPATION," then turns to face her.

"Maya, instead of handling the papers, I need you to take these attendance sheets and this note down to the office. I already wrote your pass; it's on top of the papers on the table by the door. Make sure to follow all the directions on the back side of the pass."

She nods again, and he puts a checkmark by her name. He doesn't usually ask her to do things like that, though. Usually he doesn't ask anyone to. Strange. But your thoughts are interrupted when the teacher starts speaking again.

"Now, we have a couple of new students who've moved over from Ms. Gray's class today, so let's go over the rules. After that, as you can see from the objective on the board, we have a special unit to cover today. Today, we'll talk about home safety..."

---

"...The alien invasion alarm will be three long blasts, followed by three short, followed by three long. Like this." Without looking down, the teacher taps a key on his computer and the audio file plays, sudden and grating. "The alarm will repeat at fifteen second intervals for a period of at least thirty minutes. When the alarm stops, continue to expect alien activity at any time, until the all-clear sounds. What does the all-clear sound like?"

Victor raises his hand, Mr. Carpenter nods to him, and he speaks. "Two long blasts, one short, a pause, and a short blast."

"Very good." The teacher wrote "Victor" on the board. No check mark this time. "Timmy, when we hear the alien alarm, what do we do?"

"Uh, could you repeat the question?" You sigh. Timmy never raises his hand, and always seems to need the question repeated... but for some reason Mr. Carpenter calls on him in about half your classes anyway.

"When we hear the alien alarm, what do we do?"

"Oh! Run to the nearest shelter!"

Mr. Carpenter folds his arms and smiles that smile, the one that reminds you of that mural you once saw of Ancestor Vegeta looking down on Android 19. He only ever does it this way with people who were right the first time. You know this trick. So do most of your classmates. But it still works on some of them anyway.

The teacher tilts his head. "Nearest, or strongest?"

Timmy very, very visibly reconsiders, then gulps and sticks with his first answer. "...Nearest."

"Very good, Timmy! You are exactly right!" Mr. Carpenter sketches a rough salute and puts a check by Timmy's name. "Now, could someone else raise a hand and tell us why Timmy is completely right?"

Jackie starts talking immediately, without raising her hand. "Becausetherewon't-" she slows down a little. "won't always be time?"

Mr. Carpenter takes a deep breath then nods. "Jackie, you're right, but what did you forget?"

"Uh, I forgot that my dad works for the government and says they did math and it turns out most people are safer in the shelter for whatever building they happen to be in when there's an attack than they would be if they ran home or tried to run away from the city because of..." she finally pauses for breath. "Because... I forget why except that you should never ever run away from the city ever."

"That's a good one, but there's something else."

"...forgottoraisemyhandagainsorry."

"It's okay, Jackie. You were completely right, and that second part was important. It's good to know which things people do because of math and facts, and not just because they feel like it." He writes Jackie's name on the board, with check mark, then makes another note off on the other side- a series of numbers. You're pretty sure it's a code for something, but you haven't bothered to try to crack it.

He pauses for a moment, glancing down at the clipboard that wobbles on the corner of his desk, then turns back to the class.

"Any questions?"

There aren't a lot of questions you can ask or answer here that don't feel silly. Everything they're talking about doesn't apply to you; if anything, it'd be you- and the aliens- that they're hiding from. And your classmates know. Your teacher knows. Everyone is trying to politely have a lesson that ignores the oozarus in the room- er, so to speak.

You're glad Maya isn't here. Her hair might not spontaneously catch fire from pure awkward. It might not.

But you still need those participation points! And for some reason Mr. Carpenter keeps expecting smarter and smarter questions out of you the longer the year goes on. You try to think like a princess out to protect her people- and a question comes to you. You raise your hand.

"Just a moment, Karen." Mr. Carpenter scans the room, waiting to see if any more hands rise. Then he nods to you. "Go ahead, Karen."

"The alarms warn everyone who can hear them. What about deaf people?"

"Good question, Karen!" He writes "Karen" on the board with a checkmark. "That wasn't in the packet I was given, actually. I was... told that they'll flash the streetlights."
William Carpenter Deceit vs. Kakara Deceit: 81 vs 92 FAIL
Mr. Carpenter's smile looks a little forced. A nameless suspicion floats in your head. Wait, can they do that? You're not sure, and now you're worried about the deaf people. [1]

---

He fields a few more questions about evacuation-to-shelter, the discussion gradually shifting to home safety. About why the city has people going all over town cutting down decorative trees and shrubs. Why there are about eight times more anti-littering notices and posters and advertisements than there were a month ago. About why it seems like everyone who knows how to paint is busy painting buildings white.

Fires. It's all about preventing fires. You kind of resent that. You are careful. You hope you never have to fight near a city again, but if you do, you're not going to be setting it on fire. You're not!

But then you remember some of the things you've seen, from the battle with the reptilian Meerak and near the school. Even at power levels down around a few hundred thousand, even a little stray energy scattering to the sides carries a lot of heat, by the standards of people with power levels like three and five. Trash, dry grass, leaves... they catch fire pretty easily. Maybe there's a good reason behind all of this.

You get quiet, as the discussion goes on. Mr. Carpenter closes up one round of back-and-forth with one of his usual open-ended questions. "What else can we do to protect our homes?"

Rick waves his hand in the air. "My mom says we're going to paint our windows white!" He sounds oddly excited, probably because it involves making a weird mess. [2]

Mr. Carpenter pauses for a moment, then smiles and writes "Rick" on the board- with a checkmark. Rick doesn't usually get checkmarks. More often, his name doesn't show up at all, except on the seldom-deployed Trouble List.

"Your mother has been paying very close attention to the government pamphlets. If an explosion is bright enough to start fires from the flash, then as long as the window's there, the white paint will reflect some of the flash heat back outside- like the paint on Victor's roof. That might protect the inside of your home from catching fire. Now, I have a question for you. Does that make the windows bomb-proof?" A lot of children raise their hands.

"Yes, Susie?"

"Uh... no?" Her lisp is less pronounced than it had been a few years ago.

"Right! And why not?"

"Because, um, because the 'boom.' Explosions are loud. They break glass." Susie shivers a little, then rallies and goes on in the singsong tone of a child quoting from memories. "In a attack, always stay away from all the windows until the all clear. And watch out for broken glass ev-rywhere."

"Thank you, Susie." Mr. Carpenter smiles as he writes "Susie" on the board and puts a checkmark beside it. You're good enough at people-reading that you can tell there's a sickliness hidden behind the smile. You're also mature beyond your years, enough so to understand why.

Jackie raises her hand, and speaks without being called on. "Mr. Carpenter?"

He turns, then nods acknowledgingly to her. "Yes?"

"Why didn't the alien alarms sound when the aliens attacked the school?"

"Nobody knew aliens were real, Jackie. We didn't have an alien alarm. Or any of the rest of the new civil defense rules. Now... we do."

---

[1] I have this only as a third-hand anecdote, but I'm told this question-and-answer arose during a discussion of civil defense plans during the Cold War. Except that with senior officials present, a team was promptly delegated to find a way to make streetlights flash, at considerable expense.

[2] This is a real thing, I am not making it up. It actually does noticeably increase houses' resistance to catching fire from the flash of a nuclear attack. As does white paint on the rest of the outside of the home, and clearing flammable litter.

 

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[ ] Yes. A thousand times yes. You want this woman on your side. *fangirling intensifies*

A Good Fight
​

You cock your head, looking as Miss Fren. Several considerations shoot through your mind -- what you may want to specify you want avoided, outright refusal, suspicions-

You put them away from your mind. You can't even make up your mind on what you'd qualify, and to ask not to cover something she never mentioned would be an implication that her offer was in bad faith. Despite your admiration for her, you're not an idiot -- you suspect that she's getting absolutely everything she wants out of this conversation. That said, she has treated you with respect. You won't imply that she's being dishonest.

Besides, even if she is, you can just shut her down and get Dad to blacklist her. Having the nobility cut her completely off for mistreating one of them would ruin her, and you're pretty sure she knows that. Sure, you haven't, but if she stabs you in the back you can destroy her career.

Not that you would. Or want to. But that bit of yourself that always remembers how best to hurt things that hurt you is unusually insistent that this fact means you have nothing to worry about.

So it is with a great deal of relief that you grin at her and say, "I say yes."

She smiles back. "Glad to hear it. It's always better to work with somebody." She stands and turns, heading for the door.

You follow her. "So much easier! Sometimes it seems like nobody thinks about how much easier they could make things on themselves."

"Everybody wants a good fight," says Fren, opening the door. "Honestly. Not every fight needs fists. Sorry if I'm hurrying you. Break's nearly over."

You blink and pick up your pace. "How do you know?"

She taps her head. "A thousand interviews before this one. Come on, now."

You follow her down the passage. "What were you saying about fights?"

"Ah, yes. They don't all need fists. And somebody doesn't always have to lose. Of course, winning is fun, and sometimes the other person can't win if you do -- but if you both can..." She grins.

You grin too. Now that, you can get behind. You think of yourself as a protector now, and that means fighting when you have to. And you're a saiyan, and competition makes your blood sing. But...if you don't have to hurt somebody to get that thrill...

You fix your public face back on as you and Fren push through the door and back onto the stage. Lights come on with a thump. Cheers ring out.

You smile.
Communication: 107. DC: ?

* * *
​

"You think she was being sincere?" asks Dad, glancing over at you as the sound of impacts rings out from below you.

"She kept her word," you say, shrugging. "You saw."

"So I did," he says. "Still, I'm impressed. That woman can dance a ring around most people. If she asked you for a deal like that, it's because she thought you were worth asking. The audience certainly thought you were impressive enough. You looked like a pro out there." He gives you an approving smile.

"I didn't feel like it," you say, lowering your head. "It felt like whenever she really came after me, I lost."

"Papata Fren is a rare talent," he says. "She knows her craft, and it suits her in particular magnificently. There's no shame in losing to her. Instead, feel proud that she thought well enough to make it the both of you against the audience, instead of her against you."

You smile, letting your bangs hide your face. "I do," you admit.

Dad chuckles, nudging you. "I suppose every teenager needs a hero to worship," he says.

"Dad!" you say, thumping him on the arm.

"I stand by what I said," he replies, smirking.

From below there's a roar of frustration and a deafening bang, and the crowd around you roars in approval. A gong sounds.

Dad looks up. "Hm. Ring-out. Well-executed, too."

The tournament, now that it's happening, has been very interesting.

Tournaments are big deals for your people, especially the professional leagues, but you've never been to one. Obvious reasons, of course. So it's fitting that such an unconventional Scion should come to such an unconventional tournament.

Masques only. Max power level of 500,000, for now. Elimination rounds. Winner takes a purse. Impressive fighters get to fight alongside Dad and you during the invasion. In fact, there's more than just the traditional eliminations; Dad wanted to go all-out for this one. There's a set of bracketed melees. There are beam struggle contests -- jousting, as some call it. There are even target shooting drills with prizes attached. Generally those are the stuff of small-time tournaments -- ways for non-professionals to compete -- but Dad wants to be thorough and test everything.

Not the norm.

Still, a tournament's a tournament, and a tournament with this much on the line has nearly the whole population turning out.

Your people are here in force, and they are happy. Even the minor events are getting more attention than they normally do.

At the moment, they're cheering the Vegeta warrior in the ring, straightening after ringing his opponent out and looking to the box in which you sit, high in the stands.

Dad stands and applauds briefly. "A good fight!" he says, nodding sharply. "Next contestants!"

Very little ceremony at this stage -- these are still the opening rounds, and with as many people as are competing, nobody's going to get too worked up unless a match is spectacular. The Vegetan nods and walks away without a word. Immediately, a pair of women take his place on the stage and square off.

Dad sits back down. "I'm glad you could clear the time to be here, Kakara," he says. "Especially with our...preparations...it's important to take any chance we can get to be out in public."

You swallow, nodding. The announcement for the dragon will be happening at the end of the festivities here. Keeping the secret has been wearing. You'll be glad to have it out in the open. "I don't mind," you say. "Honestly, it's a little interesting."

"I thought you didn't like fighting at all," he says, glancing at you.

You look away with an awkward shrug. Silence falls.

Dad clears his throat. "So, who's up next?"

---

By which, of course, I mean: are you in this thing?

[ ][FIGHT] Cynthia Balor vs. Mitsuba Roma. Odds favor Mitsuba, and heavily; Cynthia's not a fighter by trade. It won't be a very good fight. Pity, but there'll be other fights for you to watch today.
[ ][FIGHT] Your bracket's next, actually. You should head downstairs and get ready.
-[ ][FIGHT] You're fighting just like all of the others -- Masqued and restricted. You want to see how you stack up against your people's best fighters. By which you mean you want to see how long it takes to lose. You're not winning today.
-[ ][FIGHT] You're here to test the fighters, not prove yourself. You're not bothering with the restrictions. You'll let the runner-up take the purse; you're here to personally judge who should be fighting with you, come the invasion.
[ ][FIGHT] Cynthia Balor vs. Mitsuba Roma. Not going to be a good fight, and you admit that you're restless. You volunteered as a bonus prize for the winner of this tournament -- one fight with you, in the ring, with no restrictions. You're a little eager to get the end and see who's going to make it to you.

You do not need to vote for both that previous vote and this next vote if either disinterests you. Is this statement a bit jarring in terms of reading flow? Probably, but I'm pretty sure people don't notice me saying, "you don't have to vote for both," if I don't say it where you can't possibly miss it.

It's relevant already, but what exactly have you been doing with your training time? It's a bit more...pressing...at this exact moment. Top four action points' [AP] worth of votes win. You cannot take Perfect Multiform research. You dumped it to free these points up. I am not watching that particular game of ping pong.

[ ][TRAIN] Ki Manipulation [2 AP]
[ ][TRAIN] Tien Style [1 AP]
[ ][TRAIN] Specific Technique (write-in technique name here) [1 AP]
[ ][TRAIN] Desperate Research (write-in in desired technique here) [2 AP]
[ ][TRAIN] Write-In.

THESE VOTES ARE NOT YET CLOSED

A note: desperate research is basically Kakara saying, "from my vision, we need to pull something amazing out of the box." It's her, motivated by desperation, trying to break through to some forgotten technique like the spirit bomb or fusion. It's basically the, "research project," option, taken twice, with a healthy dose of, "holy shit holy shit this needs to fucking work." I don't guarantee success -- I never do -- but I am eliminating the stacking penalty for devoting two options to a 1 AP action in a year, representing her singular motivation in this instance. No, you can't do a 1 AP Desperate Research. I will be completely honest and tell you that it's a waste of an action point. You will not succeed on just one.

More happily...

Reputation Developed [In All But Name-->People's Princess]: Your entrance onto the public stage, with Papata Fren's assistance, was an unqualified success. Your awe-inspiring reputation, slowly filtering out of the Ancestor Cult, has been tempered into a more approachable and friendly public image, but one laid over a presentation of deep respect for the duties of your station. They love your for your warmth, and respect you for your devotion to your duty. Many now refer to you in public as, "Princess Kakara." This has made Dandeer furious, but not much doesn't, these days. Your dad is thrilled; having his heir inspire such deep respect on the merits of her ability to fulfill her role only helps his plans to centralize power further.

Acquaintance Gained [Papata Fren, Friendly]: Miss Fren and you took to each other quite happily. She's your first case of hero-worship, and she finds you adorable and precocious in an endearing way. She happily worked with rather than against you during your first public appearance, and you don't imagine it'll be difficult to continue that going forward. You'll always have a friendly ear with the most influential news personality in Exile society, should you not screw this up.

The interview proceeded acceptably. :lol

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the social, folks, because we now hit the kind of storyline that constitutes the longest and proudest tradition is Dragon ball history.

Begin the Tournament Arc!

TWO-HOUR MORATORIUM TO CHAT, FOLKS​

 

[fictionfan]

Standing tall between Heaven and Earth​

Kakara tried once again to gather the energy of the planet. It wasn't working. She meditated. She could feel the energy. Every blade of grass and ant. Each bit was small by itself, but all together it was huge. Hopefully it would become even greater with her people's active support.

The problem was that she could not draw that much power to her. No amount of concentration or focusing would make that energy move even one little bit.

She thought back to her dreams of Jiichan and that world of different energy that she could not sense.

Wait did the energies just move? What was she doing? She was thinking of the energy in Jiichan's realm. There! it did it again! It twitched.

After many more hours of work, Kakara realized that the common understanding of the spirit bomb was flawed. It was not just about gathering the energy of the world, but balancing the energy of this world with the next. There was a reason it was called the spirit bomb, not just earth bomb.

There was a reason Goku had to learn it from North Kai in the next world. You had to place yourself in between this world and the next as energy was constantly flowing out of this world into the realm of spirit. She thought she heard it mentioned in class before, entropy. She simply had to gather that, energy as it flowed out of the world bridge between heaven and Earth.

"Thank you Jiichan. I never would have managed it without you."

 

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[x][TRAIN] Desperate Research (spirit bomb) [2 AP]
[x][TRAIN] Ki Manipulation [2 AP]

[x][FIGHT] Cynthia Balor vs. Mitsuba Roma. Odds favor Mitsuba, and heavily; Cynthia's not a fighter by trade. It won't be a very good fight. Pity, but there'll be other fights for you to watch today.

A Betting Girl​

You peer down at the schedule and then glance at the ring. "Cynthia Balor and Mitsuba Roma. Odds are...seven thousand, eight hundred and fifty-six to one, in favor of Mitsuba." You whistle. "Wow."

Dad goes still for a moment. "Cynthia Balor is not known for her fighting skills. She's a part of the main branch of your tutor's House, but she's not the designated Heir. She never trained."

"Makes sense," you say. "What does she do instead?"

"Something to do with a scholarly field," says Dad, looking away from you and down to the ring. "I've only met her in passing."

"She's pretty nice, though," you say. "I ran into her during the attack on Horus Bay. She was helping people. Apparently she helped pull people out of the wreckage."

"I saw her footage, as well," your Dad murmurs. "Ordinarily I'd chide her for the indiscretion, but she was actually quite discrete. Nothing a normal human couldn't have gotten on film."

You hum in agreement. "Oh, who's that with her?"

Standing with Cynthia is a fairly short man. Judging by the way they're angled towards each other, they're talking with telepathy.

Dad clears his throat. "No idea." He wipes at his forehead.

You glance at him and then lean backwards over the back of your chair, fixing your gaze on one of the warriors guarding the door. "Hi! Sorry to bother you, but could you turn up the air conditioning?"

"That's not necessary, Kakara," says Dad.

"But you're sweating," you say.

Dad stares at you for a moment. "...fine. But do it yourself. I didn't raise you lazy."

You roll your eyes and twist your finger, and a surge of telekinesis turns on the air conditioner. Dad shivers.

"So you've never met him?" you ask.

"Nope," says Dad, folding his arms. "Must be from a branch line."

You peer at the man. "...he looks weird. Not sure how, though. Dad, do you think he looks weird?"

"Kakara, that's impolite," says Dad, pushing you back in your seat. "Don't stare."

"But he's weird," you say. "Who do you think he is?"

Dad takes an annoyed breath. "Boyfriend, maybe? How would I know?"
Kakara's Social Perceptiveness [Communication]: 52, Pass.
You peer at them for a moment before shaking your head. "Nah. I don't think that's it."

"Just let it go, Princess," says Dad, sounding exasperated. "You don't need to know everything."

"Fine," you sigh, throwing up your arms. "But only because you look like you're going to have a stroke. Are you sure you're not hot?"

"Fine," he growls, looking down at some papers in front of him.

You sigh, looking at Mitsuba.
Take Two [Communication]: 89, Pass-ish.
You narrow your eyes.

Mitsuba is staring at Cynthia and her friend, looking between them. She looks...surprised, and a little concerned.

You look at Cynthia and her friend. The man looks...focused. Eyeing up Mitsuba, and passing along his thoughts to Cynthia if you're any judge. Cynthia, though...she looks confident. Not arrogant, but she's clearly very certain that she's got this under control.

Also, she seems more comfortable in her Masque than Mitsuba does. You know the tells.

You look up. "Dad, can I have some money to make a bet?"

He snorts. "Save it, Princess. Not worth your time, with those odds."

"No, I'm not going to bet for Mitsuba," you say.

Dad...blinks, and looks up at you. "...why not?"

You nod out into the arena. "Mitsuba looks like she's seeing something she didn't expect and Cynthia doesn't," you say. "Cynthia looks like she's not worried at all."

Dad blinks and looks. "...I suppose you're right. Why do you think that's decisive?"

"Because if a newbie is going up against a professional tournament fighter and still thinks they have a good chance, and the tournament fighter isn't yelling at them for insulting their skills, the newbie probably has a good reason to be confident."

Dad nods slowly. "Alright. How much were you hoping for?"

"A hundred zeni," you saying fidgeting slightly.

He lifts an eyebrow. "A hundred zeni. You want a hundred zeni so you can make a seven thousand-to-one bet?"

You swallow, but stand your ground. "I already said why."

He evaluates you for a moment before slowly pulling out a wallet. "If this goes south on you, you do Mato's chores for a week."

"Deal," you say, snatching the bills as he pulls them out.

"And you explain to your mother why I'm a hundred short," he adds in a bland tone of voice.

You grimace. "...deal."

He chuckles. "That confident, are you? Go on, then."

You nod, and head off to make your bet.

* * *
​

Miss Fren's voice rings out over the stands as you return to the box. Your mom and siblings are back in place as you sidle past them and sit down. Mom raises an eyebrow at you. "And where were you, young lady?"

Dad nudges her, smirking. "I'll explain later."

She transfers her skepticism to him, but drops the issue as Miss Fren continues speaking.

Of course she's the announcer; at an event this big it was only to be expected. You listen as she begins. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! The next round of preliminaries is about to start! This round is Cynthia Balor, non-inheriting daughter of Head Balor, against Mitsuba Roma! Most of you will recognize Mitsuba as a frequent competitor in the Cap Circuit, where she regularly advances into the quarter- and semi-finals! A seasoned competitor, Mitsuba has never yet claimed a championship! Looks like she's brought her family along for this one, though! Feeling confident, Mitsuba?"

Mitsuba looks away from the little saiyan child at her side and smiles up at Fren's box, shouting back, "Confident at ever!"

There's some cheering in response. Mitsuba's not a massive crowd-pleaser, but she definitely has fans, and plenty of respect. The little boy bounces in excitement, grinning. With your hearing, it's no challenge to hear him say, "You gonna win, Momma?"

Mitsuba's smile flickers as she glances at Cynthia again. "Maybe, Taro. Still, as long as I put in a good show, I'll win no matter what, remember?"

"On the other side we have Cynthia Balor!" says Miss Fren. "Miss Balor is a historian by trade, and doesn't have much fighting experience. It's good to see newcomers to the ring stepping up during this time of need."

Cynthia gives an awkward smile and a quick wave, to polite applause.

You cock your head. Interesting. Either Miss Fren doesn't see what I see, or she's not talking about it.

"Miss Balor, what brings you to the ring today?" asks Miss Fren.

Cynthia shrugs, looking vaguely uncomfortable with the attention. "Hey, everybody has to step up, right?"

Liar, liar. Even I can tell that.

"Well, it's nice to see," says Miss Fren, sounding completely unconvinced. "Alright! Contestants to the ring! Victory by submission, ring-out, or knock-out! Exchange a few words, ladies, and then let's get this show on the road!"

Cynthia and Mitsuba climb into the ring. You immediately eavesdrop.

Mitsuba speaks first. "I see you've been spending that time out of public wisely."

Cynthia shrugs. "I train. All saiyans do."

"Mhm. They do, yeah. Thing is, I know that look. You've trained a lot, haven't you? And you've trained hard."

"Maybe," says Cynthia, settling into a stance -- Krillin Style. "Let's find out."

Mitsuba gives her a smile, settling into a Piccolo Style stance. "Fair enough. Still, though, don't get cocky. I can see that you've trained well, but I have a lot more experience than you do."

Something like irritation flashes through Cynthia's eyes at that, and-

"Kienzan!"

You blink as the saw blade of ki slams into the ground at Mitsuba's feet, sending shrapnel everywhere and destabilizing her footing. Mitsuba immediately launches up and back. Cynthia seems to anticipate that, and by the time Mitsuba's ki kicks in to bear her further aloft, Cynthia is there, hammering into her and kicking her towards the edge of the ring.

Gasps ring out across the arena as Mitsuba tumbles to a halt just short of a ring-out, eyes wide.

Miss Fren says, "A very aggressive opening from Cynthia, everybody! Mitsuba looks like she wasn't expecting this kind of pressure at all!"

Mitsuba shakes off her momentary surprise and narrows her eyes. "Masenko, ha!"

Cynthia rolls away from the beam and starts peppering Mitsuba with some basic blasts. The two circle each other, probing for weaknesses. After a second Mitsuba cuts in on her next turn, shooting directly for Cynthia. "Evil Explosion!" she shouts without pausing her charge. Cynthia raises her arms to tank the blast and rolls backwards, just barely evading Mitsuba's charge.

She does not evade Mitsuba's follow-up kick, and slams back-first into the arena.

Mitsuba raises her arms. "Masenko, ha!"

Cynthia grits her teeth, snaps her fingers to her forehead-

vip

thump

Mitsuba whirls and catches Cynthia's blow as the younger woman appears behind her. They clash their shins together in an abortive attempt to gain the upper hand before disengaging. Cynthia immediately charges up a Kamehameha, and Mitsuba doesn't react quite in time to stop it firing.

bang

Miss Fren finally gets a word in. "...definitely one of the more active matches we've had today, folks! These girls are really driving hard! This is a lot more than we were expecting to see from this fight, that's for sure!"

Then Mitsuba rockets out of the smoke towards Cynthia and catches her while she's recovering from her shot.

As the two begin to clash, it becomes clear that Mitsuba holds the advantage up close. Cynthia's not bad -- far from it -- but Krillin style doesn't like one-on-one. Cynthia is having to adapt to an uncomfortable situation. After a moment, she dodges back and snaps her fingers back to her forehead.

Mitsuba immediately whirls-

vip

-as Cynthia appears, spreading her hands with fingers splayed. "Taiyoken!"

You snap your eyes shut just in time for the Solar Flare, and open them in time to see Cynthia kick Mitsuba in the chest, zooming back, and cupping her hands. "Ka...Me...Ha...Me..."

Mitsuba, even blinded, reacts quickly, bringing her fingers up to her own forehead. "Makankosappo!" She snaps her fingers out, dead in line with Cynthia. Ki sense, obviously.

Cynthia's eyes widen. "HA!" She fires into Mitsuba's beam and then twists to the side, using her blast to slow the attack enough for the dodge.

Mitsuba scrubs at her eyes and peers up at Cynthia. For a moment, the two eye each other up as the crowd comes out of its stunned silence and starts to go wild.

"Looks like Cynthia is trying to open the range," says Fren. "Mitsuba is trying to stay on her, but that IT is coming in a lot of handy right now. It looks like they're stopping for a moment, though. Listen in, if you can..."

"...who taught you?" asks Mitsuba, lowering her voice in an attempt to keep the chat private. It probably works for the crowd. "I know everybody who could have taught you that well, and none of them taught you. At least I thought I did. Was it your friend? The one passing you tips with telepathy." She nods to the man on Cynthia's side of the ring.

"Passing advice isn't cheating," says Cynthia.

"Didn't say it was," says Mitsuba. "But is he the one that taught you? Why are neither of you in the Cap Circuit? You could hit the finals easily, Cynthia, and your friend honestly looks bored, watching us."

"He didn't teach me jack shit," says Cynthia.

"Thank the gods," mutters the man, his first words that you can hear.

Cynthia flashes him a rude hand gesture by way of reply. "He's just a friend," she says. "Just here to watch. Neither of us like publicity."

Mitsuba's eyebrows raise. "That's it? You don't like publicity? Come on, it's the Circuit! I'm sitting here telling you that you could go far. You'd be famous!"

"I don't want the fame of being a fighter, and he's an arrogant jerk who thinks nobody is worth his time. He'd be a terrible tournament fighter."

"I'd be out in the prelims," says the man, shrugging.

Mitsuba frowns, looking between them. "I'm...not sure I believe that...but I don't feel like you're lying."

"Get used to disappointment," says the man.

"He is a jerk," you say, propping your chin in your hand.

"Be nice," says Dad.

"Besides, I want to be known as a scholar, not a fighter," says Cynthia, dragging your attention back to the ring.

Mitsuba frowns. "You don't have to choose! You can do both! Look at the crowd! They love you! Wanting to be known for your other work doesn't change that. You don't have to choose just one!"

Which is...fairly incontestable. The crowd is looking more engaged than they have in hours. If Cynthia was hoping for instant celebrity, she would have found it difficult to find a more effective way.

"Don't we have a fight to be finishing?" asks Cynthia, ignoring that comment.

Mitsuba looks on the verge of contesting that for a moment before relenting. "Fine." She takes her stance again. "I see you're hoping to keep me at range."

"I thought it was a good idea, given our styles."

"Unless your enemy trains to get in close against a ranged fighter." She grins. "Which I have."

tsew

Cynthia blurs back as Mitsuba chases her, throwing wild blasts. After a moment, the blasts slow in mid-air before rocketing at Cynthia's back. Cynthia evades, but that gives Mitsuba enough time to close to zero range. Cynthia immediately goes on the defensive, struggling to open the range.

Fren interjects once more. "After a quick chat, the two are back at it again! It looks like Cynthia is having a tough time getting her space, though, and this is Mitsuba's territory right now! How does she plan to get out of this one?"

Cynthia will have a very tough time of that, it seems, because Mitsuba is pressing so hard that Cynthia can't even raise her fingers for an IT. She dodges back again and again, only moving to the side to avoid the arena boundaries. It becomes increasingly clear that she can't keep it up. With a triumphant shout, Mitsuba manages to land a blow at last, throwing Cynthia's arms wide apart.

What happens next happens quickly to everybody but your father and you. A tiny spark of ki flickers up over Cynthia's palm. The spark solidifies and grows and spins and sharpens.

Mitsuba cuts off her lunge into Cynthia's wide-open guard with a yelp, jerking her fingers back from the swiftly-formed Kienzan.

And then Cynthia turns her backwards momentum into a backflip, landing a brutal kick to Mitsuba's chin. Already shaken by the near-amputation she just suffered, Mitsuba takes it square-on.

Ending her flip, Cynthia lunges in close and lands a palm strike to Mitsuba's sternum. The older woman rockets backwards and shatters the intruder ward surrounding the arena. A horn blares. The crowd goes nuts.

"Ring-out!" says Fren. "Cynthia Balor wins by ring-out in one of the biggest upsets in years! A brilliant maneuver with that Kienzan at the end, and a great reversal! Mitsuba, how are you doing?"

The woman climbs to her feet, letting out a wheezing chuckle as she shouts back, "Bruised ego, but I'm fine."

Cynthia touches down nearby. "Sure you're good?"

"Yeah, I've taken worse. Wouldn't have even been the first time I've needed my fingers reattached." Mitsuba waves it off as her sideliners run up. "Excuse me."

Her son slams into her leg. "Momma!"

"I'm fine, Taro. And hey, it was a good fight, right?"

"Very good fight," says a man in a fighter's outfit. "You looked good out there."

Mitsuba rolls her eyes and gives him a hug. "You always say that." She looks at a pair of young men trailing behind the rest of the group. "And what did we learn today, boys?"

The two trade glances before one ventures. "We...learned...that Kienzans are great melee weapons, master?"

"They kinda suck, actually," says Cynthia, rubbing at the back of her scalp. "Too unwieldy."

Mitsuba nods. "They were unexpected. Nobody uses them like that because they're unwieldy. Except masters." She eyes Cynthia side-on before returning to her students. "Alright, go find your seats. I'll continue the lesson later. Bana, could you take Taro back...?"

"Of course, hun," says the man, picking up their son. "See you back in the stands." He sets off. "Your parents should be here soon, by the way. They called, said they're running late."

Mitsuba nods and smiles. Then she whirls on Cynthia. "Seriously, who trained you? I know -- thought I knew -- all the Krillin style masters."

Cynthia shrugs. "Like I said, private. I learned from a lot of people, here and there." She looks up as Fren starts announcing the next contestants. "Anyway, looks like we should clear the ring. Nice fight, Mitsuba." She holds out her hand.

Mitsuba keeps giving her a suspicious look for a moment before nodding sharply and shaking the outstretched hand. "Nice indeed. Pleasure to lose to you, Cynthia." The two women give each other polite smiles and part.

You and Dad stop listening in and nod at each other. In unison, you say, "They're in."

And then you hop up, heading for the door.

"Kakara, where are you going?" asks Mom, standing herself.

"Collecting seven hundred eighty-five thousand, six hundred zeni from the gambling booth," you say, grinning.

Mom's eyes widen. "Seven- Kakara Goku, get back here and explain this instant!"

"Dad can explain!" you sing, stepping outside.

As you leave, you hear her shouting, "Berra Goku!"

---

Going into the next day of the tournament, preliminaries will be done. Dad's scheduled the target shooting competition for tomorrow.

[ ][SKEET] Spectate.
[ ][SKEET] Join the target shooting brackets.
[ ][SKEET] Write-in.

You also have time in between helping Dad watch over these events to talk to somebody. Who?

[ ][CHAT] Cynthia Balor. She's nice, you remember, and you'd have fun catching up.
[ ][CHAT] Mitsuba Roma. You've heard a lot about her, and since you and Dad both want her on the force, you figure you should get to know her.
[ ][CHAT] Papata Fren. See what your idol has to say about the tournament. Maybe she'll have you do some announcer work with her on the side!
[ ][CHAT] Write-in. Every saiyan not in House Senzu is in attendance. If you want to chat with them, they're here.

THIS VOTE IS NOW CLOSED.

Okay, you all should never expect this again. Generally, if I say I can't get an update out, I just can't. I only barely was able to crank this out, and only because I pulled a fast one on time management. We are all very fortunate, and it is definitely a one-time stroke of luck. I will be nearly incommunicado until Monday, starting now! If somebody also participating in Terminus Quest could get over and let them know that I'll be away until Monday (reason: in-laws visiting, which is good since we like them but fills all free time with hosting duties), I'd greatly appreciate it. Sorry if this is a little bare bones, but I am hitting the hard limit on time availability and need to go immediately. If I'm around, it will be in quick doses via mobile. Bye! Hope you liked!

 

[Simon_Jester]

Buzzsaw
Chapter One

Recommended Listening​

You've bowed your hellos to your disciples, kissed your hellos to your family as they came up to ringside. Now is the time for focus, as you prepare for the fight. Part of that is stretching muscles, but much more is focusing on your opponent. When you saw the listings you didn't expect Cynthia Balor to be more than a warming-up exercise, an impression that lasted all of half a second after you laid eyes on her.

You do your homework with the people you expect to face in a tournament, especially with a complete unknown like Cynthia Balor. Or you thought you had- but nothing you saw or heard left you expecting this.

Her ki burns smoothly with the heartbeat-timed pulse of someone who can easily muster several times more power, and is purposefully limiting herself far short of even her usual training levels. As does yours. The girl looks back at you with a distinctly un-girlish expression; the shy bookishness you expected is there in her posture, but not a hint of the nervous tension you'd usually see from an amateur climbing into the ring with you. Even if she's not a master-class competitor, she very much believes that she is.

Whose disciple is she? Who trained her like this? The question keeps circling through your head. You run down the list of every true master of Krillin Style you can think of. And you do know the two she's actually studied under publicly, and neither of them has spent enough time with her to make her this confident. Not against someone with your reputation. At least, you think not. Maybe you're underestimating their skill as teachers. Worth remembering.

And who's that with her? The short man exchanging glances with the Balor girl that shout "TELEPATHY!" is someone you've never run across before.

He looks odd. You frown slightly, thinking.

Odd. Part of it you can't- no, wait, that's it. Everyone has their saiyan side and their human side, and not just because of the Masque. Nearly everyone lives in both worlds. Some a bit closer to the human side, like cousin Ashitaba. Or like Scion Kakara. But this fellow? You're a good judge of body language, and you're pretty sure he's got to be one of top five or ten most 'saiyan' saiyans you've ever met.

Carries himself like a fighter, with a side-order of something you can't put your finger on. And that side order radiates killer instinct. Enough that he looks like trouble. A brother Demon stylist in a foul mood, one who hasn't really internalized the spiritual side of the Teachings? Barely possible, but you're sure you'd recognize him even so, if he fights that well. And you are sure he's not a Krillin stylist. Hmmmm.

Maybe he's from one of those Masquerade-shunning families, one that bears about as high a proportion of saiyan blood as they can manage. You nod slowly. Maybe that's it. Maybe he's here with a Balor because that's the height of 'human-loving' he can tolerate- part of their social circle, but too far out to be part of yours.

The thing is... generally, the Houses like that only interact with the rest of Exile society because they love fighting. Even more so than usual, in some cases. And that wraps right back to wondering why you've never seen him before. There are a lot of Houses. Could there be some backwoods branch House that keeps up their own martial arts tradition? One that doesn't mingle with the populace, even to spar? One that has a fighting tradition you don't know about? Something like Frieza-style fighting?

You suppose there might. It's that, or he's a lone wolf of some kind who lives out of touch with everyone, even with the 'saiyan pride' Houses that don't mingle with humans. It's not unheard of, even if it's usually the oldsters who go off to live as hermits in the wilderness.

Either way, you decide that if you see him again, it'll be worth trying to talk shop. You'd bet long odds that he's not the one who trained Cynthia in anything of consequence, but you're pretty sure he knows who did.

But as you look at him, he is looking at you. And you know that even if he's never fought you or any of your friends, somehow and somewhere he's learned to be a keen judge of fighters and tactics. Combine that with Cynthia obviously knowing much, much more of the martial arts than you thought...

Huh. This is going to get interesting.

---

Cynthia makes her way across the ring wards with an odd shiver- probably hasn't felt high-end tournament wards before, not the real thing. You're used to it, keeping your equanimity, smiling and dipping your head to the Balor girl in a gesture of respect for a fellow contender. Even one you didn't know you had- especially one you didn't know you had. "I see you've been spending that time out of public wisely."

She shrugs. "I train. All saiyans do."

You nod, tilting your head to one side. "Mhm. They do, yeah. Thing is, I know that look. You've trained a lot, haven't you? And you've trained hard."

"Maybe. Let's find out."

As she says the words, she drops into Krillin Style's... wait. That is not the fifth stance favored by masters. It's what fifth stance would look like if it had been reinvented from scratch by a Krillin Style master who had somehow never heard of it before.

This is going to get really interesting.

She's a good one. How good? You'd like to find out, really find out. She's still carrying traces of the shy, bookish girl about her. That won't do; this is a world-class tournament. You decide to nettle her a bit- get her to push that aside. This is a tournament of skill, not power, so bring out her best. Better for everyone that way.

You drop into the sixth stance, hands held in high guard position, and smile at her. "Fair enough. Still, though, don't get cocky. I can see that you've trained well, but I have a lot more experience than you do."

It works.

Her energy shifts from latency to activity in the blink of an eye. She lifts her arm towards the ceiling. A mass of swirling power forms in her upraised palm.

"Kienzan!" she shouts, and hurls the destructive disk. You begin accelerating into an upward dodge even before you find the aim point, because against someone throwing those around, getting airborne is self-preservation. The blade, its edge sharp as fury, slices into and through the ring floor, passing half a meter below your feet. You slow your dodge as you realize it wasn't aimed through your center of mass, trying to reacquire Cynthia- WHAM!

-Which was a mistake, you realize, as she reverses one of your favorite tactics and slams you skyward on a fastball trajectory, with an aerobatic kick.

Well, she's nettled all right. Very nettled.

She's also at least as good as you expected. Her flying kicks could use a little work, but they'll do. They'll definitely do. Ow.

You tuck your body into a ball and set yourself whirling, dissipating momentum, willing yourself to a stop short of the ring edge. Lesson learned. Time to start feeling out her tactics. She's practicing a variation on her style, and you need to learn just how variant.

You cup your hands and let fly with a Masenko; she twists out of the way and begins returning fire with a hail of energy bolts. Not much shaping or charging, just a barrage to get you going evasive. Good tactics; you can tell she's trying to make her own openings instead of simply waiting to exploit them- the mark of a Krillin Style master. She's trying to keep up with you on aerobatics, coming closer than many, but then maneuverability is one of the great virtues of her Art.

The counter is to take whatever the Krillin stylist is doing to create their opening, and react outside the box- which you do. She likes to kick people over the horizon under cover of a big ki attack? Let's do that, then.

Grinning wildly as your blood sings, you turn sharper than she expected, maybe sharper than she thought you could, and pour power into gaining speed, batting aside a few of the little bolts with motions of your hand instead of bothering to swerve around them. The effort costs more, but you gain in speed- and to do it, you have to switch power to your hands, which dovetails nicely into the charging blast you gather as you approach. Cynthia crosses her arms and forces her ki into a barrier to withstand the enormous directional blast of your Demon Wave.

Then she realizes you're still coming straight at her. Behind her carefully affixed glasses, Cynthia's eyes widen as she frantically dodges your flying tackle, slipping underneath you. But you saw that coming and lashed out in passing. Piccolo Style prides itself on abrupt, powerful kicks, with good reason. The new challenger catches your boot in her midsection. The Balor fighter's downward dodge becomes a downward plummet, slamming to the floor like a meteor. Before she can rally and rebound out of the crater you gather your strength, calling the name of the Masenko as you give it all you've got-

Cynthia surprises you again by raising her fingers to her forehead, and disappearing out of the path of the bolt.

Not that big a surprise. Instant Transmission is one of those techniques so useful that anyone who can use it in a fight, does- a common variation on all styles. But you learned how to defend against a teleporting attacker by fighting the greatest living master of the art. You've practiced the defensive counter-form for years in the face of Berra's many admirers and imitators. And the first thing they try is a kick to the back. Every time. Usually the back of the head, because it usually works, unless you- ha!

You started spinning even before she completed the Instant Transmission. When you learn to watch for it, and the kais are kind, sometimes you can time it and catch them in mid-decision loop. Your opponent has to concentrate on the Instant Transmission and plan her first move after it, so she won't have time to reorient when you-

Lash and and block her kick with your own, in this case. Cynthia jets backward and- WHAM!

-Whirls through the motions of a Kamehameha faster than you expected. Pretty good one. Very crisp. Most youngsters' Kamehamehas have a fuzzier wave front, and hurt less. She put a lot into that. Ow. By the same token, it was enough to fatigue her for just a moment- and not enough to stop you. A good chance to reverse things, and by now you've figured out that like most Krillin masters, she's most comfortable at a distance.

Your smoldering robes are snuffed out by the sudden wind of your flight as you flash into range and launch a barrage of punches and kicks at the Balor fighter. Several land, Cynthia recoiling from the impacts as you settle into a rhythm, beginning to regain the initiative. She skips back, aided by the momentum of your next punch, and vip!

She'll be too smart to try exactly the same move, so you whirl and dodge, expecting a punch or kick in the chest, and your head whips round as you-

"Taiyoken!"

-Go blind and then get kicked in the chest.

Right, teleporting Krillin stylist! You should have seen that Solar Flare coming. This match is starting to feel like you reached out to pluck a fruit and found a hidden buzzsaw waiting for your hand. Tricky.

But Cynthia's got her signatures too, even if you're having to learn them on the fly. She repeats her earlier tactic, backpedaling and charging a blast, but you know how to take the wind out her sails this time. To your ki sense, she might as well be holding a bullseye in her cupped hands as she charges the Kamehameha wave. You rap out a hardened drill of energy with familiar ease- and Cynthia is smart enough to turn her attack into a defense on the fly, making it out of the Makankosappo's path in time.

Phew! You weren't expecting a challenge like this until the quarter-finals!