Dragon Ball: After the End

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X] Goku and Vegeta's final fight

The Wheel Turns Over, Part 1
​

Shin lowers his hands, smiling proudly as he surveys his work. He nods to himself before turning and bowing. "Thank you, Zeno-sama, Zeno-sama, for this dispensation."

"Anything for a friend!" chirp the childish gods, turning to grin at Goku.

Shin suppresses a sigh. At the very least, he reflects, straightening, they will stop taking an interest in us once Goku-san is gone.

After a moment, he feels terribly guilty about that. It is a thought completely unworthy of a kai, much less one of his station. Goku is a valued champion not just of Earth, but of all the universe! He is a personal friend of Zeno-sama -- both of him! -- himself! He is...he...

...he is my friend, and he deserves better than this, sighs Shin, turning wholly.

Goku bows to the twin Zenos, wincing as his spine creaks. "I'm real grateful! Vegeta and I sure could use a good spot for our final fight! And I'm sure the Supreme Kai enjoyed the project!"

Shin manages to smile. "It was...entertaining, I will admit. I've made no life today, but it felt...good...to create this much." He glances over his shoulder.

Vegeta steps forward, level with Shin, his arms crossed as he surveys the view. "Hm. A fitting arena for our final battle. You have my thanks." The old saiyan does not make clear whom he was addressing; likely, that is deliberate. Instead, eyes as steady as ever, the prince surveys the infant universe, spun out of the Zenos' will and filled by Shin's hands. A new place for Creation to roost. A new blister of reality amidst the void.

The only place large enough to truly host Vegeta and Goku's final moments without fear of collateral damage.

Shin, despite the mood, smiles to himself. Making all of this, stretching his abilities so far, feels...good. It feels right. It feels like the final casting-off of his failures following Majin Buu and continuing right up until the Tournament of Power. Shin takes a deep breath, enjoying the pure scent of the world he made in order to observe the process.

"I'm actually a little jealous," drawls Beerus, observing the untouched cosmos with a glint in his eye. "All these lovely planets, and I won't get to destroy any of them! I guess that means you won't have to get your work checked, Supreme Kai." He nudges Shin with an elbow.

Shin rolls his eyes, knocking his counterpart's arm away. "Restrain yourself, Beerus. There will be plenty of work for you back home."

Beerus looks away, snorting. "Ruin my fun, why don't you? They wouldn't miss one." He remains at rest, though.

"Hey, Supreme Kai!"

Shin blinks, turning to see Goku approaching. "Yes, Goku?"

"Thanks again," says Goku, grinning. "I can't tell you how much this means to me."

Shin smiles, more easily this time. "It was my pleasure. The least I could do. I...you've done so much for us all, Goku. We owe you this much."

Goku chuckles, rubbing at the back of his head. "Well, I sure did have my share of screwups, too! But thanks. I'm looking forward to seeing what Vegeta and I can do with this place!"

"You'll destroy it, I imagine," says Shin, shaking his head. Then he stops, sighing. "...I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. We'll miss you, Goku."

"Well hey, don't be like that!" replies the saiyan. "We'll just show up in the Other World! You'll see us again real soon!"

Shin's smile starts trying to curdle. He keeps it from doing so. "Yes, I'm...sure we'll see each other often," he replies, trying not to think of his conversation with Yemma-sama earlier that day. "It might even be easier." He pushes the thoughts aside and smiles up at Goku. "I look forward to seeing you, once you find your feet."

Goku grins back and gives his little salute. "Won't be any time at all!" He then steps away, towards Vegeta. "You ready?"

Vegeta snorts. "Finish saying your goodbyes, Kakarot."

Goku nods, turning back to the crowd. "Well...I guess this is it!"

Freeza glowers from in back. "This is a waste of a death. Neither of you will get the deaths you deserve...not with me on the sidelines."

Vegeta growls. "Save your taunts, Freeza. You're not welcome, and we have better things to be doing with our last fight than listen to you."

The tyrant scowls, arms crossed, and subsides.

Piccolo glances at Freeza for a brief moment before turning to regard the saiyans. He doesn't say anything, unlike Freeza; instead he just looks. He trades a single nod with Vegeta, and then he and Goku stare each other down. For a full minute, they eye each other up, remembering decades of shared history. Then, at last, Piccolo sighs, closing his eyes. Opening them, he gives Goku a small smile. Goku mirrors the expression along with a thumbs-up, and then he turns away. "Hey, Whis?" he said. "We're ready to go."

The angel steps forward, tutting. "It's only a shame your families and the rest of your friends decided not to come!" he remarks.

Goku shakes his head. "Nah, I don't blame them. I don't think I'd like to watch, either. I mean, sure, we're going through with it, but just...watching? That'd be hard. Besides, it works better this way."

Whis shrugs. "If you say so. In that case, I'll just shuffle us out of here! We'll be watching, but you'll have the whole universe to yourself."

Goku grins; Vegeta smirks. They both look up into the sky, seeing the full extent of their final arena.

Shin turns away from the sight, a sudden lump in his throat. He deserves better, he thinks, walking forward as Whis opens a portal for them all. But this is how he wants it.

* * *
​

Goku straightens his spine, groaning as it pops and creaks. Opposite him, Vegeta does the same. Goku brushes at his bangs, pushing them out of his eyes. They flop back, as always, but for a moment the sight of grey where there has always been black thoroughly arrests him. "...we got old real fast."

"It's typical," mutters Vegeta, flexing his fists. "Strong life...swift end. One way or another."

"I don't know that I'll be at my best," admits Goku, not looking at his lifetime rival.

Vegeta closes his eyes, sighing. "...yes you will. You wouldn't allow it, otherwise." His eyes open again, and he looks up into the sky. "So, at the end, this is it. You, Kakarot, and me. Like it's always been. But...just us. This is it, and nothing more."

"It's been coming on a long time," admits Goku. "I gotta say, I wasn't really expecting it to happen like this. Not for a while, at least."

"I was," says Vegeta, grinning. "This is the only perfect way for it to end."

They both laugh for a moment, and then trail off, looking around.

Shin's viewpoint world is a masterpiece. There's nothing living, but he's made a work of art even so. Crystal spires rise from crags of rock, and water plummets from those crags in great falls to a vast, red sea below. The sky is yellow; the stars beyond choked with nebulae. The two old saiyans simply watch for a long moment, acutely aware of the passage of time, that every moment they spend watching this view is precious.

Goku sighs. "I don't know that I want this to be over," he admits. "I know it'll just be up to the Other World, but...that's really it. There'll be no coming back. Not permanently, ever again. Things will be different. I don't know if I can stand living up in Heaven, knowing that some day I'll look down, and..." He stalls, unable to continue.

Vegeta finishes for him. "...that one day you'll look down, and no longer feel any desire to go back."

Goku nods. "I heard somebody said that enlightenment was like that."

Vegeta makes a disgusted sound. "Spit on that. If enlightenment means not caring, then I don't want it. I'll take reincarnation."

It is the first time either of them have mentioned the possibility. Souls in Hell, of course, spend years being purified before getting another shot at life, but souls in Heaven? Technically, they can as well. But why would they? It's Heaven. And reincarnation means losing yourself and only knowing who you once were through stories, and perhaps someday, another afterlife. It's a desperate option. A terrifying option. A loss almost as complete as the apathy they fear.

"I'm with you," whispers Goku.

Vegeta nods. Then he takes a deep breath. "But that's not why we're here."

"No," agrees Goku, turning to face him.

Vegeta turns as well. "I will not find a death by old age."

"I don't like the idea either," replies Goku.

"There's only one death for a saiyan!" barks Vegeta, standing up straight.

"I'll take it," replies Goku, smirking.

Vegeta chuckles. "I'll bet." He bows his head. "You know, Kakarot, you've never acknowledged my title."

"Nope," replies Goku, still smirking. "Never really been much for Princes. Why? You want me to?"

Vegeta closes his eyes. "Hmph. No. It would mean no more now than it would have any other time in the past few decades. Besides...if I'm honest, being a saiyan prince hasn't meant that much, since Raditz and Nappa died. Not to anybody but me. I think, now...I'm ready to set it aside."

Goku blinks. "Wait, really? I thought you'd keep that up your whole life!"

Vegeta laughs. "Don't be too surprised, Kakarot. After all, there's only one way to stop being a Prince." He opens his eyes, meeting Goku's. Wind blows past them, ruffling their hair. "Now at last, it's only you and me, Kakarot! The last of the saiyan race in one place, alone in the universe! The two greatest warriors our people have ever produced, united as one! And I will not be a Prince! No, in this company, there is only one title that will do!" He draws his fists in, standing tall. "I am Vegeta, once Prince! I am the King of all Saiyans, and you will acknowledge that!"

Goku remains wide-eyed for a long moment...before returning to his confident grin. "Only if you make me."

Vegeta's return smile shows teeth. "Gladly."

Goku draws back one foot, and draws one fist back to a resting position by his hip. His leading hand comes up, held at head height. "This is it, Vegeta. One last time."

Vegeta doesn't take his own stance. Instead he closes his eyes once more, chuckling. "One last time..." The wind picks up, shrieking by in a howling whistle. The stillness of a new universe gives way to the first stirring brought by life. Vegeta's eyes open, and he raises his arms overhead. "And may the winner's name live forever! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

White ki blasts out of Vegeta's body and rips apart Shin's world, giving way to the void of space. In the vacuum, Vegeta pulls air into his aura and assumes his own stance, mirroring his first confrontation with Goku from years before.

The two stare each other down for a long moment, and then each charges. The meet, clashing off of one another, and the debris of the planet blasts away form the force of it. They rebound, they recover...and they return. Blows flicker faster than any other mortal could follow as the two rivals test one another's strength. Vegeta retreats to draw Goku forward only to slide down and forward, kicking up. Goku twists aside and kicks down, forcing Vegeta to tumble and catch the limb, twisting to hurl Goku away-

Streaks of white ki chase each other through the void where the planet once floated, and slowly they trend towards the stars around which Shin's planet once orbited. They are a binary pair, two yellow suns chasing one another around a central point, and as Goku and Vegeta seek the place of greatest advantage, they inevitably draw nearer to the stars and their critical, blinding light.

Goku chases Vegeta down into one of the stars' corona and tries to drive him into a solar flare; Vegeta seizes the plume of plasma and winds it around his arm, tearing it free of the star's surface to use as a lash billions of miles long against Goku. Goku blasts away the tendril and darts forward; Vegeta falls back down to the star's very surface, grinding to a halt against its paltry resistance. Goku presses onward faster still, and Vegeta launches himself upwards, letting his rival bury himself. He then streaks away, gaining distance for when Goku reemerges.

It takes less than a second. The star erupts in a flare larger than any mortal has ever seen as Goku tears his way free and hurtles towards Vegeta. Vegeta turns, arms flung wide, and brings them crashing together. "FINAL FLASH!"

Goku raises his arms at the last moment to block as Vegeta's attack strikes the flare Goku had thought to co-opt for his strike. It explodes, catching Goku from every direction and flinging him far forward and past Vegeta.

Vegeta turns. "You're still too aggressive, Kakarot! And you're still not making full use of what we have!"

Goku tumbles to a halt, swiveling in place. "Give me a break, Vegeta, we've just started! This is always the warm-up! You're not going all-out yet, either!"

Vegeta snickers. "I suppose you're right. I guess I'll just have to pick things up myself!" His hair flickers and his aura flinches. Backlit by a pair of stars, he looks up at Goku, his hair flickering gold. "Let's dispense with the pretenses, Kakarot; we're well past admitting that planets can't hold us. With our powers, planets are children's toys! With the merest fraction of our abilities, we could bring galaxies to their knees!" Now fully alight with the power of a super saiyan, Vegeta spreads his arms. From Goku's perspective, it looks like each hand centers over one of the stars. "Let us truly begin to test our abilities, and cut loose for the first time in our lives! There are no ceilings; entire worlds will be crushed to dust without us noticing! Let the universe be our arena, and let our death throes kill galaxies!"

His arms jerk up, hands meeting overhead. Behind him, without ceremony, the stars slam together and burst. Vegeta's hands come forward, and the eruption races towards and past him, slamming into Goku. For a moment, a new star is born in the explosion; a wild, unsustainable thing, born out of destruction and ripping itself apart under the urging of Vegeta's ki in order to spend yet-more-intense fury on its target. After a moment, it begins to die away.

Then it blasts apart, a new light supplanting it in the heavens.

Bolts of lightning chase the expanding gases of the stars' detonation as at the center, a new bloom of golden light grows. One sparks past Vegeta, and he raises his hand to deflect it from himself. For a second, sparks arc through his aura.

The light at the center of the artificial supernova pulses again, driving away the stars' corpse. The lightning continues, snapping around like headless snakes and veining the glorious light with an eerie blue glow.

"I remember," whispers Vegeta. "I remember the first time..."

At the heart of the storm, Goku opens his eyes. "Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

Vegeta takes his stance. "And now...I will never forget this last."

The gold snaps into place, utterly eclipsing the fury of the supernova even at its greatest, and the lightning dies. "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The light snaps back into place, and the first two super saiyans stare each other down across a million miles of separation.

It might as well be a foot.

---

This one will eventually become a monster. We break here, return tomorrow. Bye, folks!

 

[PoptartProdigy]

The Wheel Turns Over, Part 2
​

Shin stares through the portal as Goku and Vegeta resume their fight.

The two old warriors are already vastly outpacing Shin's ability to keep track of them. Even at the barest fraction of their true abilities, it's difficult to pick them out even as streaks of golden light. He can feel them, though. Their might is enough to shake their universe.

"Impressive," says Beerus, eyes glinting.

Shin glances over, distracted. "It's no revelation that they're remarkable fighters."

"No, but it's the first time I've witnessed them going all-out," replies Beerus, folding his arms. "They've always had a reason to hold back before. They were fighting on Earth, perhaps, or there was an audience. They've always had to worry about a cage. But now? Now they can really stretch their limits. For the first time, we can see what it looks like when two mortals with the power of gods truly unleash themselves." He grins. "And they've barely even started."

* * *
​

Goku keeps up the pressure.

Ever since he first learned how to fight, Son Goku has always been one to charge in and take the fight right into his opponent's face. Ki was incredible, and he loved the Kamehameha, but there was nothing like the rush he got from getting in close and clashing fist-to-fist with his opponent. Even as everything changed and he cast off all but the most private memories of the hot-headed boy who once set out in search of the Dragon Balls, he still held onto that desire to charge in and really cut to the heart of things. So it remains today.

Goku presses ever onwards, slapping aside blasts and hurled projectiles, smashing through planets wholesale, and continually trying to pin Vegeta against the wall. Only here, there isn't a wall. It's only barely starting to sink in that this is a whole universe, and nothing within it can really hold the two of them.

Vegeta, on the other hand, seems to immediately grasp the nature of the battlefield. He's not throwing asteroids at Goku; he only barely bothers with planets. Vegeta detonates stars and tears away their hearts to throw in Goku's face. He claws pent-up charge from nebulae and hurls it across the cosmos. He streaks across solar systems and shatters them with the bow wave of his aura. He strips the substance of this universe to the bone and annihilates it on the aura of his victory over Goku. He makes this universe kneel to the one with the power to so reshape it. He glories in the first chance he's had to truly stretch his muscles. He endlessly keeps Goku well at bay.

He provokes Goku, and Goku finds his own answer to the question of how one catches somebody when there's no wall against which to pin them.

Sparks snap across light years and a thunder carried by nothing so prosaic as noise rings out across the universe as Goku blinks first. He brings himself to a dead halt for a heartbeat and screams into the void, with sheer might making a mockery of the idea that nobody can hear him just because of a lack of something so silly as air. His hair spikes on end; his muscles expand; he ascends.

In the heartbeat before Vegeta can do the same, Goku charges.

The two of them have wandered into the midst of a towering nebula cast in blue and green. It's the kind of stellar edifice that seems, to mortal eyes, to veil vast segments of the heavens and deny all intrusion. It cradles putative stars by the dozen, aloof and inviolate in a task that will consume aeons.

The blow shatters it like a puff of smoke caught in a hurricane.

Vegeta tumbles back, gasping as Goku finally manages a solid hit. Goku pursues again, a lifetime urging him not to stop, not to let up, to never let the opening go unexploited lest the enemy takes that second to recover and uses it to find a chance to hit back.

tsew

He appears behind Vegeta and arrests his momentum with a kick that bends the self-proclaimed King nearly in half backwards. Vegeta seizes up in agony before howling as the force hurls him away again, and it's only thanks to his ki that he's still alive after that hit. He drags himself to a halt-

tsew

-and Goku's kick misses Vegeta's forehead with a millimeter to spare.

Vegeta snarls and lunges, tackling Goku before he can recover and punching him in a very unfortunate place. Some things never change, it would seem.

Goku's eyes bug out, and the majesty of the moment shatters in a pathetic whine.

Vegeta shoves Goku away, leveling his arms and grinning in feral satisfaction. "HA! BIG BANG ATTACK!"

There does, indeed, ensue a big bang.

As Goku tumbles, Vegeta sets himself and begins to transform. "Very clever, Kakarot, but you forget that you're not the only one who can do that! Any advantage you gain that way is fleeting! HA!" Sparks race up and down his aura, and Vegeta settles down, alight with the power of the second transformation. "Now let's see how you compete on a more level playing fiel-"

vip

WHAM

Goku spins as he transmits, coming out of the transition in a vicious kick that again sends Vegeta hurtling. "Spend less time talking!"

vip

BANG

Goku grins. "More time fighting!" He fires up his aura and chases Vegeta down into the heart of a star.

Vegeta pulls himself to a halt in time to meet Goku's renewed assault. The two slam into each other and set the star roiling. They are visible only in silhouette as they circle, clash, and retreat again. In the time it takes for physics to even register that the star has been dealt a mortal blow, the two rebound off of one another a hundred thousand times. Still, at last, it boils over, and the star dies.

The blast consumes a cluster of galaxies, and in the moment after, there is only darkness.

* * *
​

Shin closes his eyes as the light fades. "Amazing," he murmurs. "Just from the shockwaves...they truly were the greatest." His eyes open. "But it's over now."

Piccolo scoffs.

Shin turns, frowning. "You doubt that?"

Freeza sneers. "Aren't you meant to be more intelligent than that?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "They've only gone up two steps. They wouldn't let it end there."

Shin folds his arms and scowls. "This is a fight unlike any they've ever experienced. Accidents happen."

"Of course they do," replies Freeza, turning back to the portal. "They simply haven't."

Shin's patience runs out. "Oh, then they've simply decided to stop?"

* * *
​

A blue glow disturbs the silence in the wake of the star's spectacular death. Two bright points of light flare into being at once, driving away the blackness. Goku and Vegeta unfold themselves from the balls into which they curled to ride out the insanity of that detonation, and their eyes find each other.

Super Saiyan has a fury to it even once mastered. The aura looks like a golden flame, the hair like a mass of spikes. It screams controlled violence. Super Saiyan Two is even more intense; sparks crackle through the aura at random, and the rigidity of the hairdo intensifies into an imposing crown of spikes. The less said about Super Saiyan Three, the better.

All of that changes when the saiyan unlock the secrets of divine ki, and masters the form Super Saiyan Blue.

The aura is an almost soft glow wreathing the newborn demigod, shot through with sparkles and waving to an undetectable breeze only the user can feel. It all glows with the color that gives it its name and give viewers the sense that they are viewing less a person than a conduit to something greater. And then the light clears, and the person remains...with just a touch of the otherworldly majesty that came before.

The sheer pressure washing off of Goku and Vegeta presses against the distant cosmos untouched by their latest act of destruction. What remains begins to slide away, leaving Goku and Vegeta alone, the sole light in an ever-expanding pool of darkness.

"Now we can finally get started for real," says Goku, setting himself.

"Let us see what we can truly achieve with the power of gods," replies Vegeta.

The last lights on the distant rim of the universe go out, and Vegeta and Goku square off across an empty arena with nothing to distract them.

---

I believe that there will be one more.

 

[PoptartProdigy]

The Wheel Turns Over, Part 3
​

The portal fails.

Shin blinks, looking at Whis. "What happened?"

The angel peers at the head of his staff, tilting it back and forth. "The energies they were giving off destabilized the portal." He shrugs. "It would seem that the show is over."

"What? So just make another one!" snaps Beerus. "I want to see how it ends!"

Whis shrugs. "Very well, Lord Beerus, but I honestly don't see the point. It'll just happen again." He tilts his staff, and a portal springs into being.

Shin gasps, doubling over as the feeling of Goku and Vegeta's powers slams into his skull. He grabs at his head, trying to modulate his senses -- failing-

The portal fizzles out, and Whis sighs.

Beerus growls. "Damn. I wanted to watch."

"No," says one of the Zenos.

"It's better this way!" says the other.

Piccolo hums, nodding. "They wouldn't really care if we watched, but they wanted to do this for them, not for anybody else."

Shin grimaces, staring at the air where the portal once hanged. "...still, I feel like we owed it to them to be there. I don't like just leaving them."

Beerus sighs. "Well, we'll just have to live with it. Frustrating as it is, we can't watch without being in the way. And I know they wouldn't thank us for that." He folds his arms. "I suppose that it doesn't matter. Either way...there's only one way it ends."

* * *
​

Goku and Vegeta clash a thousand times in a single heartbeat.

To the rare observer strong enough to actually somewhat vaguely track their movements, it would look like a spectacular, shifting light show. Streaks of blue rebound off of one another, describing mirrored half-circles over and over across a dozen arcs before repeating, shifting the pattern, repeating again, and on.

Those powerful enough to pick up a little more than that would see Goku and Vegeta circling, dashing back and forward, their limbs and bodies flickering as they close or throw blasts. They blur from place to place, only truly visible in still frames describing frozen moments of the fight -- Vegeta catching a strike here, Goku slapping away a blast there.

To Goku and Vegeta's eyes, it is actually very deliberate.

The two men drift at what feels like an almost lazy pace through the void they've made, trading shots and strikes. Powerful though they are, they are old, and fighting is always difficult. They both are sweating. Their breath comes quickly, inside the protective shell of their auras. It has been a long, brutal brawl. Vegeta's left leg is broken; Goku is missing a fair amount of skin down one side of his chest. They both are laboring. They both are exhausted.

At long last, Goku puts his fingers to his forehead and-

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-departs, leaving Vegeta stumbling in his rival's sudden absence.

Vegeta looks around, taking the moment to slump and regain some amount of energy. He pans around with his ki senses, searching-

His eyes widen, and he turns to the source as Goku begins to gather power for one last transformation. Vegeta nods once, and begins to mirror it without a word. As his ki begins to spike one last time, he half-turns and draws his hands back over his shoulder.

* * *
​

On the very edge of the universe, there are places which survived the cataclysm Vegeta and Goku wrought. On one such lonely planet, orbiting a massive star, Goku raises his hands overhead before drawing them down to his waist.

"Ka...me..."

* * *
​

Vegeta, surrounded by a storm of ki, takes a deep breath to bring himself under control. "Galick Gun..."

* * *
​

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..."

Goku shakes under the strain of so much power, but he keeps it under control. As the planet begins to shake itself to pieces beneath him, he opens a line of telepathy to Vegeta. 'Just like old times, right Vegeta? We had a good run.'

* * *
​

Vegeta smiles, closing his eyes for a moment. 'The best. What we have done will never be forgotten. People will judge us as they like, but nothing will ever be the same again. I would have it no other way...Son Goku.'

His eyes open.

His hands snap out.

"FIRE!"

* * *
​

Goku's arms come up in a motion as natural to him as a breath. "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

---

THE END





​

In a place where no light has ever shone, a being in a cloak made out of eye-twisting shadows opens his eyes.

"Finally."

 

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[ ] Planet Zebul. It has absolutely everything you need, if you can just dodge the soldiers. Dazarel has a point; Bassoon's used to doing just that, and the Refugees will be out of their element. And a part of you really wants to find out what the dragon has to teach you...

Spoiler: ASK Votes

(Top Three.)

[X][ASK] How has Bassoon's anti-psychic measures held up in the past?

"Pretty darn well. Not often, but the time I needed them, the psychic went off to cry in a corner.

"Seeing as we were fighting at the time, that went poorly for him."

[X][ASK] Basssoon, could you give me a quick rundown of your abilities?

"I could."

...

"Heh, your face. I'm a warrior of my people's style, drawing inspiration from the tales and records left by the Earth warrior Piccolo. You of course know my power level well enough, you've felt it before. I'm also a mage, albeit not the strongest one. I'll never be a grand sorcerer, but I've learned a fair amount of magic suited to helping me in a fight. Mostly themed around the idea of motion. Other than that, nothing stands out. I regenerate. Do Exiles remember that?"

[X][ASK] How powerful are infantry blasters?

"How powerful are saiyans? Infantry blasters are built to fill specific roles. How powerful they are depends on how big they are, who's making them, and who they're meant to kill. Rumor has it that the Galactic Patrol has the best blaster technology out there. Couldn't tell you if it's true or not. In terms of what we're likely to see, there's anything from old Freeze-Era tech that barely hits two thousand units on a good day to things that could make me think twice, although it gets a lot rarer the better it is."

Crowded Spaces
​

You tilt your head back, thinking for a moment. It's a quick decision, though. "Zebul." You never have been able to resist the allure of an enticingly shiny unknown.

Bassoon grumbles in discontent. 'You sure, Kakara? We only have Dazarel's word to go on, and I don't like trusting him.'

'You die, I die,' replies Dazarel, positively preening. 'You can't buy better trust than that.' He hops up onto your shoulders.

'I'd be cautious of any loyalty that I bought in the first place,' replies Bassoon.

"Still, definitely tells us a bit about how our little dragon thinks," you say, rolling your eyes.

'I am realistic,' he sniffs, settling in.

You sigh. "You're a cynical monster, and I'm not going to forget it just because you're small." You push away from the tree and start flying.

Bassoon shakes his head. 'This feels wrong, making a decision on Dazarel's word. Still, he makes good points, and if he really has something to teach you...' He hesitates for a moment. Then he turns to the navigation console and selects Zebul. Space begins to twist outside as Bassoon settles back into his chair. 'I suppose every little bit helps.'

"We'll be fine, Bassoon," you say. "Trust me."

'It's not trusting you that's the problem.'

* * *
​

The journey is relatively quick. Zebul is, by Bassoon's ship, only a day's journey away. There's a reason it's a favorite of the refugees for rest stops. As the ship flies, you rest and recover from your exertions over Arcosa, your Sight returning to you. You start to reach out and scan ahead for dangers on the path to Zebul, but Dazarel stops you.

'We will need that later,' he explains, peering at the side of your face from his perch on your shoulder. 'Your training will be intensive, and I doubt that I will have very long to work with you. Let the slug do his job. Focus on your own.'

In the end, you accede to that. If you're going after his training, you'll trust that he's competent to give it.

You aren't entirely idle, though.

* * *
​

Bassoon's aura, a perfect white, flares around him. He nods, taking a deep breath. "Now."

Within his mindscape, you set your hands to the ground and push out with your ki. Your aura flares. "Ha!"

Bassoon promptly flinches, his aura going wild. "Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow stop stop stop-"

You immediately cut off the flow of ki, shooting to your feet and away from the ground entirely, just to be safe. "What's wrong?! Are you okay?"

Bassoon hops up and down on his toes, shaking out his arms. "Agh, that stings! Okay, that did not play nice with my ki. My head!"

He scrunches his eyes closed and cradles his forehead.

You release an irritated sigh. "Why didn't it work? This makes no sense."

"It doesn't," replies Bassoon, opening his eyes again with a shudder. "Then again, there's not much about our situation that's normal."

You fume quietly to yourself, trying to figure out where you went wrong. Nothing comes to mind, for now.

* * *
​

Eventually, the day passes, and Bassoon's ship appears facing the night side of Zebul.

The planet itself is a patchwork of lights. Zebul is the most heavily urbanized planet you can imagine. Garenhuld, from space, looks like it has glowing pimples from how tightly its people tend to cluster. Zebul is just blanketed. That's not the most striking thing about it, though. The planet is, as you knew before coming, completely surrounded by massive orbital stations. Countless blobs float around the planet, and the equator is overshadowed by a single, grand ring, with strand-like docks protruding at regular intervals.

You get a great chance to observe the ring station as Bassoon brings you into a dock on its surface, his ship still under stealth. "We'll be able to find an empty berth here," he says, scanning the station for an entry point. "This part of the station is uninhabited."

"What happened to all the people?" you ask.

"The Refugees happened," replies Bassoon in a grim voice. The console chimes, and he start floating into an empty spot. "Welcome to Little Arcosa, Kakara. What's left of it, at least."

As Bassoon brings you through the station's air shields and into the docking bay, you see what he means. The place is halfway ripped apart. Blast marks and great rents show all along the walls, floor, and ceiling. No hull breaches, but still plenty of damage. Strange stains mark most surfaces. There's something missing, though, something which gives you a momentary flicker of hope.

Bassoon immediately crushes that, though. "They cleared out the bodies, afterwards. They were worried about the health hazard." He pushes up from his chair. "Nobody's dared to really push into this area since then. We won't be disturbed." He turns and sets off for the airlock.

* * *
​

The empty hallways of Little Arcosa are the single scariest place you've ever been. They echo, as all parts of this station naturally would, but here there's virtually no noise to cover that up. The battle damage remains; the stains remain. Yet still, not a body in sight. You want to shudder so badly that it sets a constant tingle along your skin. If you needed any reminder that your universe has always been a brutal and merciless place, the sight of the empty quarter serves well enough. You're glad that Bassoon swiftly exits the empty section of the station and you find yourself in public areas once more.

Bassoon, by contrast, tenses up, drawing a hooded cloak around himself to hide his face. 'Right,' he says, peering around warily. 'Dazarel, if you're serious about this training, now's the time. I'm going to focus on finding a discreet place to get us water and fuel.'

'Very well,' replies the dragon from somewhere far off in Bassoon's mindscape.

'Good luck, Kakara,' says Bassoon, setting off into the crowds.

"Thanks," you answer, looking around for the dragon.

He's nowhere in sight, but he then starts speaking to you. 'Only you will hear me, now. No secrets, but I'd rather not have the slug listening in. So, Ape Princess, you're a seer. A Kanassan seer, no less, for all that your ancestors were the ones to purge them. Must be quite the tale. I've no time for it, though. We've much to do, and I have much to teach you.'

'What about?' you reply, folding your arms. 'You're not a seer, I know that much. We wouldn't have beaten you if you were.'

'Likely true,' admits Dazarel. 'Still, I do have knowledge, truly earned. I am old, and I have seen much. Tell me, Kakara, what do you know of my gifts?' he asks. You blink at the non-sequitur.

'I know that you can move things around and read minds at a distance,' you say. 'You're psychic, but not in a way we've ever seen before. You can do things a lot easier than any other psychic we've hear of.'

'Psychics are rare, ones of my strength even more so,' replies Dazarel. 'I am not surprised at their obscurity.' He chuckles. 'That said, you have met psychics other than me.'

You hear a quiet rustle behind you; spinning, you see Dazarel, sitting down. 'Don't do that.'

He tilts his head. 'One day, you will understand why that is a foolish thing to ask, and on that day we will celebrate your achievements.' He stands. 'Psychic abilities come in many forms, innate to the individuals gifted with them. My gifts are telekinesis and external mental effects, and both in grand quantities. Some have internal mental gifts. Some stop time. And others...See.'

Your eyes widen. 'The Sight is a psychic ability?'

'Now perhaps you understand its rarity,' he says. 'Yes, it is, although a very atypical one. I studied, for a time, with the Kanassans in my youth. Despite my skill with my own gifts, I was wholly unable to pick up even a basic proficiency in Sight. Usually, I can get some minimal amount of ability in a gift outside my own, although nothing more. For instance, I can produce ice, although not in useful amounts.'

'So that's why Grandpa Gohan ordered you to help me,' you say. 'He knew that you were a psychic, so you could teach me the basics!'

'Indeed he did,' answers Dazarel, nodding his head. 'And that is my plan. From there, it will be up to you to develop your own, personal gift. I can be of far less use to you there.'

'That's better than I thought I'd get,' you reply, straightening.

Dazarel regards you with casual disinterest. 'Very well.' He stands. 'Psychics are individuals blessed with the ability to rewrite reality through willpower alone. Through sheer concentration and mental effort, we will it, and it is so. There are of course vast realms of difference between lifting a stone and, say, subtly impeding one's opponents...' He bares teeth. '...but the underlying principle does not change. You will be subconsciously familiar with this process; you use it every time you have a vision. There is no need to cover it in detail. Instead, we turn to your particular gifts.'

'I have others?' you ask, hope surging in your chest. If there's anything you have that could be useful...

That said, Dazarel immediately shakes his head. 'Almost certainly not. Kanassan Sight was always notorious as a rather jealous gift. Almost without exception, it consumes the whole of an individual's potential. Most can hope for two, perhaps three. Kanassan Sight typically comes alone. That said, it is not a waste of time. We will begin with my own -- and here we see why I voted to come here.' He looks up into the sky, at the crowds through which Bassoon is walking.

You look blankly for a moment before understanding strikes. You scowl. 'You want me to try to mind control people.'

'In order to test whether or not you have a gift for external mental effects, yes,' sniffs Dazarel. 'I wouldn't worry. You'll have no practice with it, even if you do have a gift. You'll achieve nothing.' He glances up at your unchanging expression and sighs. 'Very well. We shall begin with simple sensing.'

In the real world, Bassoon heads into a small, dim building. As his eyes adjust, you see that it looks like a bar. The atmosphere is quiet and strained, and Bassoon's entrance draws everybody's eyes. He ignores them, heading for a table in the corner where a bulbous pink alien lounges, looking through some records. As you watch, your host sits, greets the alien, and starts negotiating the sale and delivery of some starship fuel.

'Why we've come to civilization only to engage in this cloak-and-dagger nonsense escapes me,' remarks Dazarel. 'We're on a station, just order in.'

'He must have a reason,' you reply, sighing. 'Just trust him, he's experienced in this.'

Dazarel shrugs. 'Very well. Still, this presents an opportunity. Our trading partner can be our test subject. Reach out with your ki senses, Princess.'

Doing so is the matter of the barest flicker of attention by this point. Twenty-seven. 'Easy. What's next?'

'Next, we see if you have any talents for manipulating other minds,' replies Dazarel, taking off and swooping around you. 'You can already feel the alien's life. Now you must try to find its mind. Push for it. Impose your will; you can touch this being's mind. You will. There is no question about it. To touch the mind of another is your own, natural gift.'

You grimace at Dazarel's phrasing, but do as he says. You close your eyes, concentrating on the alien's ki signature in your mind. You focus on it and envision yourself reaching out towards its head with a little filament of thoughts. For a moment, nothing happens, and you frown to yourself.

'You are not doing it right,' snaps Dazarel. 'This is not ki. You are not trying to touch the alien's mind by weaving a connection of energy to it. You do not have to justify to the universe why this works. It is enough that you will it so. You can touch the mind. There is no room for doubt. Nothing else could be so. Now do it, unless you are too weak-willed to do what I could do before I even hatched!'

Your eyelid twitches at the taunt. Little jerk, you think to yourself. Fine! See what I can do! You slam your will down on the issue as though forcing yourself to stand through training exhaustion. I can feel you.

It feels like glass shattering. A barrier you never knew existed gives way, and you feel...something...tumbling along towards the alien at great speed. And then...

'He is desperate for these supplies. He will accept a worse price, if I push. And that's even aside from the charge for discretion!'

The voice is strange, and after a moment of disorientation you match it to the noises you hear echoing in through Bassoon's ears -- the alien's voice, a voice that sounds like the croak of a frog.

'Ah...' says Dazarel. 'Nicely done.'

'I can hear his thoughts!' you say, eyes flying open.

'Indeed. This is the most basic of a psychic's gifts; what nearly all of us can do, given time or effort. On you, it is already the sign of something exceptional; Kanassan Sight, as I said, is very jealous. Most of its original bearers could not even do this.' He lands on your shoulders. 'Now, tell me what the fat one is thinking.'

You frown up at the sky. 'He's thinking that Bassoon is desperate and will pay a lot more than he should.' You listen further and your eyes widen. 'The refugees have been searching the station! The alien thinks Bassoon might be the one they're looking for. And-' You grimace in contempt. 'He's thinking that he can use that to make Bassoon pay even more.'

'Troublesome,' hisses Dazarel in a silky voice. 'We can't have that, can we?'

'No!' you reply, half-stepping forward out of restless energy.

'Then we must do something about it,' says Dazarel. 'You already feel the alien's mind. Now you must touch it. Reach further, Kakara. Find where these thoughts are coming from.'

Ability revealed: Psychic. Seer abilities re-classified as such.

---

Do you do as Dazarel says?

[ ](x1.1) Yes. New abilities are a tool, and you need all the tools you can get. Dandeer specializes in sealing minds; you could use every tool you can lay hands on to counter her in that arena.
[ ] No. Tools are all well and good, but you are wary of the potential of the techniques Dazarel is implying. You don't even know if you truly have a gift for this sort of psychic power, anyway.
[ ] Write-in. I'm sure y'all can find some way to complicate this.

MANUAL MORATORIUM; APPROVAL VOTING.

And we're back!

Thanks for waiting around, folks. I'll be back to more regular posting now. Hopefully, I should also soon pick up a replacement computer of my very own, and be able to get back to work properly.

As a quick reminder, I offer support to write-ins; at any point prior to the vote unlock, feel free to tag me with your write-in, and I'll feature it in the unlock post so that people will see it.

Glad to see y'all again, folks; I'll see you around the thread! Enjoy the update; bye!

 

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X](x1.1) Inform Bassoon about what the guy is thinking about. Ask him if he thinks he has enough money to pay the premium. If he doesn't, try to use your powers to convince the dealer that he has the wrong guy. If he does, continue with the negotiation. Read his thoughts as the negotiation goes on to help Bassoon haggle by checking what the smuggler thinks about what he is saying. Once the deal is done, check his mind to see if he intends to sell us out to the refugees despite being paid not to. If he does, plant the suggestion that he honors the deal.

Spoiler: ASK Votes

[X][Ask] Dazarel: Could this ability [mind control] be used on animals?

'...sure.'

[X][Ask] Kakara: Does she think it would be possible to Ki-infuse animals to high power level, if Dazarel answers affirmatively?

"Absolutely! They'd look so cute, zipping all over the place!"

[X][Ask] Lore: How do Garenhulder saiyan opinions of pets differ from our own?

Not meaningfully.

A Lesson Learned​

You're not stupid; you know when you're being manipulated, and Dazarel isn't being subtle. That being said...mind powers. 'Now, I know you're playing me,' you say, smirking.

Dazarel blinks. '...um-'

'But fine,' you finish, turning away. 'Give me a second.' You look up. "Bassoon, this guy knows that you're the one the refugees are trying to find! He's thinking he'll be able to charge you stupid amounts of money to keep him quiet!"

Bassoon stutters for a moment before continuing his conversation. Then his voice rings out in the air around you. 'You're reading his mind? That's what Dazarel is teaching you?'

"Right now we're just testing things," you reply. "Can we pay this guy to stay quiet?"

'I can,' he grumbles. 'It's annoying and we'll be on a budget, but I can. Explains a fair amount about how he's negotiating.'

"Want me to help you out? Tell you what he's thinking?"

'Sure, why not?'

In the real world, the alien shifts his bulk forwards in his seat. "Listen, sir, you seem like a perfectly kind man, but business is dangerous these days. A man in my position needs certain assurances that things aren't going to go south. You understand." He gives Bassoon a thin smile. You delve into his thoughts again and hear a whirl of impressions -- greed, calculation, idle curiosity -- all resolving into, 'Let's see if he needs to be led to the point.'

You sigh. "He's trying to be subtle in order to see if you'll notice."

Bassoon sighs, leaning forward. "I'm prepared to offer a sign of my appreciation," he says, pulling out a wallet.

The alien grins. "Lovely."

You actually gag slightly at the sheer, oily sensation rolling out of the man's mind at that. 'Is this what you have to deal with all the time?!' you demand, glancing at Dazarel.

'Not anymore,' he replies, scowling up at you. 'But when I did, yes it was like this. Banal, irritating little mortals all going around polluting the cosmos with their petty goals and struggles. Everybody's ugly on the inside.'

You frown. 'We can't all be like that. People like this are unusual.'

'People like this are honest,' Dazarel replies. 'You hear things like this everywhere, if you listen. Trust me on that. None of your fellow mortals are worthy, Princess.'

You set your jaw, folding your arms. 'So what makes us special?'

Dazarel bares teeth at you. 'The ability to make them do as we please. Most of them have to settle for persuading one another to play into their desires. Those more gifted can simply take the choice away.'

You shiver at his words and expression and look away, glancing again at the merchant's thoughts. Now he radiates satisfaction and smugness as Bassoon wearily hands over an exorbitant sum of credits. You sigh, unsure if you're happy or disappointed that this seems to be working out so peacefully. Then you catch a thread of thought from the merchant.

'...and after all, even if the refugees for some reason do suspect that I've helped him, it would be easy enough to play innocent and tell them about the suspicious person I met the other day. Not good to get a reputation for such things, of course, but if necessary, I'm sure nobody would begrudge me protecting myself.'

Your eyelid twitches. He holds your safety hostage for money, and now that he has what he wants he's still thinking about how to sell you out if it helps himself. Your patience snaps and you reach out, bringing your willpower down on his mind in the same way as you reach out for it. It's really bad to get a reputation for selling out your customers. Do it once and you'll lose three. Never do it. Never. They have no reason to suspect you; if they're asking, it's just because they're asking everybody. Don't let on anything at all.

To your surprise, nothing in his train of thought changes. The merchant bids Bassoon a good day, and right up until you lose line of sight, he's still thinking about when he can and can't afford to sell you out, should the need arise.

It must show on your face, because Dazarel glances at you. 'What's happening?'

You blink. 'I...I tried to make it so he'd be afraid of getting a reputation as a snitch if he sold us out the refugees, but nothing changed! He was still thinking about how to do it if they threatened him when Bassoon was walking away!'

Dazarel nods, apparently unsurprised. 'Yes, I had expected as much. As I said, Sight is a jealous gift. Take heart, Princess. It would seem that you don't in fact have anything that sets you apart from the rest of them.'

You look away as he snickers to himself. 'Yeah,' you say, remembering how it felt to reach out like that; the feeling of imperious command that another's will would bend to yours. You shake your head. 'Nothing.'

* * *
​

It's a few minutes later of wandering through crowds, scanning people at Dazarel's insistence, before you hear Bassoon's voice echoing again. 'Uh, Kakara? Dazarel is trying to get me to read your mind.'

Your head snaps around to the dragon where he rides on your shoulders. Dazarel shrugs. 'Testing for internal mental gifts. Only one way to test it.'

You scowl at Dazarel before looking up. "Yeah, that's fine, Bassoon. Thanks for telling me in advance, though." You throw Dazarel another disgusted look.

'I'm not even sure I should do it now at all,' remarks Bassoon, weaving through the crowd. 'We're a bit busy. I think I'd rather hold off until we're off the station.'

You sigh. "I guess, yeah. S'your head."

'Thank you,' snarks Bassoon, rolling his eyes.

You lean back, sighing. "I feel so restless in here. There's just not much that I can do."

'We're working on it,' replies Bassoon in a soothing tone. 'We get to New Namek, the Guru will have an idea of what to do. He's a very wise man, and hey, we have Dragon Balls.'

You perk up at that. "Right, you do!"

Dazarel lifts off from your shoulder, grumbling.

You ignore him. "What are they like? Have you ever been there for a summoning?"

'Only once. Porunga is awe-inspiring. Kind of short-tempered, but he can do so much.'

"What were you wishing for?" you ask.

Bassoon grunts. 'We were having some issues with ecological disruption on New Namek. Looked like a new drought. This time we hadn't lost one in any recent upheavals, so we grabbed the Dragon Balls and made some wishes. I was there for it.' He sighs. 'Incredible. The sky turned black. He was the only light around. It was like everything had reoriented itself around him. It's a shame that Shenron's set was lost. Every one of those dragons is a wonder.'

"You said it," you say, sitting down in the middle of a plain. "That's honestly one of the things we miss most. We used to be able to call on this being of incredible power and wisdom, and now...gone." You sigh, looking up at the sky, and the view through Bassoon's eyes. "Sometimes I wish..." You trail off, eyes narrowing. Then they widen and you spring to your feet. "Bassoon, far right of your field of view!"

The view twitches right for a moment before Bassoon curses and glances the other direction. 'Tariq. He moved fast.'

Your eyes flick around the view projected above. "What do we do now?"

'We get out of here,' replies Bassoon. He checks a device strapped to his wrist and pulls up a map with a few points tracked on it. 'Fuel and water are almost back to the ship. Call it a minute before they're loaded. But if Tariq is here, the refugees are about to conduct a full search. We need to get clear of the station and get out of here before that happens. If they find the ship, we're stranded.' He starts glancing around for exits. '...oh, no.'

Your heart starts to sink as you see exit after exit come up blocked by a fighter in bulky, familiar armor. "They have us boxed in. Do they know we're here?"

Bassoon ducks into an alcove. 'I don't think so. A lot of traffic passes through this corridor. I'll bet there are a lot of places like this they're checking while they search other locations. We need to get out of here now.'

"Can you take them?" you ask.

He snorts. 'Saiyans. No, I can't take them all! Tariq's a hard enough fight when I can't cheat! He has backup now. No fights!'

"Can you knock one of them down and get past? Then you could hide," you say.

'Maybe,' he replies. 'It's risky, though. I'd honestly rather try to sneak past them...' He peers at one of the people. '...but they're trying to check everybody. I'd have to be very sneaky.' He glances aside. '...or, if we're desperate...' He nods to a window. 'I could put on my breath mask and shoot that out. Get out into vacuum before the automatic shutters close, make my way to our hangar through space.'

"That seems noisy," you fret.

'It would be, but it'd also close off their pursuit,' he replies. 'If I got to the hangar before they managed to work their way outside, we'd be gone before they could catch up.'

You look around. "Well, we'd better decide fast, or else they're going to find us."

Bassoon bites at his cheek. '...well, not necessarily. There's a restaurant over there. If I ducked in and hid, there's a chance they might pass by, depending on how thorough they're trying to be.'

You hop on your toes. "And I've been using all of my Sight juice on Dazarel's stupid practice. Okay, okay. What do we do now?"

---

Refugees are blocking the passage. How do you evade them? They'll also soon be searching the station, so time is an issue; they'll eventually search Little Arcosa and find the ship.

[ ] Blast through and lose them in the station. Most risky, but very fast, and knocks them off-balance in the event of further confrontations.
[ ] Find somewhere here to look inconspicuous, and hope they pass you by. Extremely slow, but risk-free...unless they for some reason decide that this passage in particular demands a thorough sweep beyond simply inspecting traffic.
[ ] Try to sneak past one of the refugees. Fast but risky, since they're making a point of inspecting everybody.
[ ] Blast out a window and bypass their roadblock by space. A bit slow since you need to work your way around the unfamiliar station exterior, but fairly low-risk. Of course, if they find you, you're in a pretty bad spot.
[ ] Write-in. Whether you have a whole idea of your own, or want to write in tactics for one of the above, write-ins are your friends.

MANUAL MORATORIUM; APPROVAL VOTING.

Here you go, folks! Hope you enjoy! Got a bit of a situation, here, and a probably disappointing revelation about Kakara's lack of mind control abilities. And before we start-

You don't even know if you truly have a gift for this sort of psychic power, anyway.

Click to shrink...

-I did warn you. This choice was about Kakara's ethics, not her abilities.

Have fun, folks!

 

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X] Find somewhere here to look inconspicuous, and hope they pass you by. Extremely slow, but risk-free...unless they for some reason decide that this passage in particular demands a thorough sweep beyond simply inspecting traffic.
-[X] Make sure our hiding place is in close proximity to a window.
-[X] If any of the refugees come within range, scan their minds to determine how thoroughly they plan to inspect this passage.
--[X] If the answer is "well enough to find us," default to the "blast out a window" plan.

Ghosting Strategy​

Bassoon hums. 'I could try to sneak past. If I caused a distraction...'

Your eyes widen. "No, wait, we don't need to risk it at all!" You cast your eyes around the image in the sky. "There! The back table in the restaurant, it's by a window! Sit down there and make sure you have a line of sight to Tariq!"

Bassoon's eyebrow twitches, but he ducks into the restaurant without argument. He orders something to drink and waits. 'You're pretty confident. What do you have in mind?'

"I can still read minds," you say, staring hard at Tariq. "Barely, but there's a little juice left. Come on..." You reach out once more in that odd manner as before and get the same flurry of sense impressions.

Tariq is bored and frustrated. He doesn't want to be here, and he really wants to be gone. He has an idea of where Bassoon will be -- not here, not Little Arcosa, somewhere else -- and he wants to go there. He's staying because...stubbornness?

You growl quietly to yourself and shake your head. "This is so vague."

Dazarel stirs himself. 'Focus. This mind is not your own. He will think differently. Stop targeting it quite so precisely and just focus on the flow of thoughts.'

You release an annoyed sigh, but that does make some sense. You widen your focus, looking less at the sense impressions and more at where they're going. The stubbornness flows into certainty -- Bassoon isn't likely to be here, but he might pass through here. That flows into patience -- it's due diligence to check, and they have other checkpoints all over the station. Finally, resolution -- they'll wait another ten minutes, and-

pop

You gasp as the connection breaks with the flare of a slight headache. "Ow."

'You would seem to have reached your limits,' remarks Dazarel. 'Shame. Did you get what we needed?'

"Yeah, I got it," you grouse, rubbing at your temple. "Bassoon, we have ten minutes before they move on!"

Bassoon sighs. 'Ten minutes is a long time in this situation, but...they're not going to search this hallway?'

"Tariq barely wants to be here," you reply. "They're just trying to limit our movement. He's going to move on soon."

Bassoon shakes his head as his drink arrives. 'Fantastic. Well, it's cutting things close, but I'll take it over the risk. All right, Kakara. We'll do it your way, this time.'

"Thank you, Bassoon," you reply, settling in to watch. "This'll turn out okay."

* * *
​

The following ten minutes are likely the most fruitlessly tense in your entire life. You've never had to sit so still for so long before, while under threat and helpless to do anything proactive about it.

Still, once those minutes have passed, the refugees do move on.

You watch as Tariq, increasingly agitated, snorts, tossing his head in annoyance. "THAT'S IT!" he bellows, making the whole hallway flinch. "HE'S NOT COMING THROUGH HERE! LET'S GO! WE'RE HEADING FOR HIS HIDEY-HOLE." With that, he stomps off, his soldiers falling in behind him. Bassoon slowly tenses and they pass by the restaurant, only relaxing once they're out of sight. He waits a few moments longer, then drops payment for his drink on the table and rises.

'Back to the ship, then,' he says.

"And time to get out of here," you agree.

'I don't know, I quite liked it here,' sniffs Dazarel.

'That's because you like watching other people squirm,' growls Bassoon.

'Naturally.'

"Later, please!" you say, as Bassoon passes into the eerie stillness of Little Arcosa. The silence grates on your nerves.

It doesn't help when that silence shatters under the sound of distant voices.

'Damn it,' says Bassoon. 'They've started searching the quarter. We need to move.' He breaks into a run, darting down the hallways on his way back to the hangar where you left your ship. The voices slowly fade into the distance, and as you round the final corner, you hope that you've lost them.

Bassoon pulls up at the sight of an open door and spits something in his own language that sounds absolutely vile.

"Oh, no," you say in a faint voice.

"...believe our luck?" you hear a woman saying from through the door. "He has a lot of balls, hiding this here, of all places."

"He doesn't have balls at all, Sheera," chuckles somebody else.

"Oh, shut up," says Sheera. "You know what I mean."

Bassoon stealthily draws up to the doorframe and peers around it. 'Five of them,' he says.

You narrow your eyes at them. "Seven hundred thousand...eight hundred thousand...one million, four hundred thousand...three million, nine hundred thousand...ten million. Kais on high, what have you outer-galaxy folk been eating since the Exile started?"

'Humility,' snorts Bassoon. 'Your ancestors were a great motivator.' He mumbles a spell under his breath. 'I'm not picking up on any mages.'

'And I sense no psychic potential from any of them,' says Dazarel.

"Your abilities are sealed," you snap, giving him a suspicious glare.

'I still have senses,' he replies, scowling at you. 'There's a feel to a psychic that one can get used to picking up. I'll teach you later.'

'Point is, I can take this group,' says Bassoon, shutting down the conversation. 'We're going to have to-' He ducks back behind the door frame as one of the refugees turns around.

"I'm going to call the boss," he says, getting closer to the door. "See if you can't crack that thing open!"

"What if he's inside?" says Sheera. "We can't take him without you!"

You feel out the approaching man's power level. "He's the ten million."

'Got it,' replies Bassoon.

The refugee sighs. "If he was here, he'd already have come out the ship. Or just lifted off. You'll be fine."

Bassoon tenses as the man approaches the door frame.

---

You have reached the ship, but refugees are here. What do you suggest Bassoon deal with them, board the ship, and escape? Worth emphasizing at this point is that you are suggesting, and that given the current time limits, if Bassoon for some reason disagrees he will simply go with what he thinks he should do instead. Kakara is fairly confident that Bassoon will probably accept one of the following suggestions:

[ ][PLAN] Attack the strong one coming your way and take him out of the fight before the others can react. Then it'll be an easy fight.
[ ][PLAN] Let this guy pass you, get past him, and take down the weaker ones. Then you can fight him without distraction.

Kakara has also considered the following, but is less confident that Bassoon will take it:

[ ][PLAN] Let this guy pass you and use magic to incapacitate the others. If you can do it quietly, you can get onto the ship and lift off before this guy notices anything out of place.

Finally, while there is the risk of uncertainty, you are as ever at full liberty to propose a

[ ][PLAN] Write-in.

MANUAL MORATORIUM; APPROVAL VOTING.

I'm writing so much over these past few days!

Hope you enjoyed the update, folks! We're clearing Zebul soon, and heading on our way to New Namek once more! There'll be at least one more stop along the way, though, even assuming that you have no more run-ins with Tariq.

Also, while we're here, I've a question. How are we liking the new format? I know the switch away from the yearly format was controversial at the time; I'd like to take the mood and see how we like what's come since. Do we prefer the new approach? Do we miss the old one? Or do you think I should do something new?

[ ][FORMAT] I miss the yearly format. AP plans were fun.
[ ][FORMAT] I enjoy the new format.
[ ][FORMAT] I have a different idea in mind, and of course am perfectly willing to also
-[ ] write in what that idea is.

Looking forward to seeing your thoughts, everybody. I'll see you around the thread!

 

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X][PLAN] Attack the strong one coming your way and take him out of the fight before the others can react. Then it'll be an easy fight.

Journey to New Namek
​

Your gaze intent on the view above, you murmur, "Him first, then the others?"

Bassoon nods fractionally. 'Agreed.'

The alien comes around the door frame, purple-skinned, three-eyed. Bassoon coils his legs. The alien, catching the motion out of the corner of his eye, snaps his gaze over with wide eyes. "What-?"

tsew

Bassoon lunges forward and snaps out of kick into the side of the alien's head, sending him spinning to the ground in a groaning heap.

Immediately, you feel distant power levels spiking. Tariq's, in particular, lights up in your ki senses. They all begin converging on your location. You feel them weaving, and moving far slower than they need to; the station and its crowds working for you, you assume. You have some time.

The other refugees spin. The one you heard earlier, Sheera, has a fierce glare on her face. "Who the hell are-?!" She stops, going pale, as she sees Bassoon.

Your host reaches out, snapping his fingers, and gestures to the weaker refugees on either side of the group. "Accelerate!"

The two hapless aliens rocket into the walls with a loud bang and fall the ground, unconscious.

Sheera and her last companion bunch up together in response, eyes wide. Bassoon flares his aura at his full power level, and the force of it actually pushes them back a bit. "Right," he says, cracking his knuckles.

tsew

CRACK

pop

The two go down with broken and dislocated limbs in a blur of motion, and Bassoon immediately steps past them. "I'd rather if you two just stay down." Then you hear his voice in your head. 'Kakara, what's the response looking like? I feel incoming.'

"Still fine," you reply, keeping your senses on the enemies. "We should have enough time if we hurry!"

Bassoon pauses. "...not feeling like taking the risk." He glances at the refugees. "Sealed up, even inside. Oddly paranoid. Hah!" He thrusts his hand out at the floor of the docking bay, flaring his ki, and a blast streaks out.

BOOoooo...

In a heartbeat, the bay ruptures and tears away from the station, spinning wildly. Bassoon lurches into contact with his ship and suppresses his ki. He snaps his fingers, pointing at the ship, and then points at the hole heading out into space. The ship rockets forth out into vacuum and Bassoon promptly starts climbing arm-over-arm towards the hatch.

"...you're insane," you breathe, watching the chaos.

'Not the first time I've done that,' says Bassoon, voice faint. 'Hold that thought.' He fumbles open the hatch and slides into his ship. Air whistles into the space, and Bassoon gasps, just lying in place for a moment.

"Are you all right?" you ask, concerned.

"Surviving vacuum is...not as easy...as just holding your breath," gasps Bassoon, groaning. "Lots of little stuff gets...damaged. Letting the...regeneration...fix it...ow."

You shake your head. "Okay. Will it be long? The refugees are going to know where we are."

He shakes his head, giving up on the spoken word. 'The ship is shielded. They won't be picking us up. They might've been able to find us visually, but that's why I sent us flying. We'll be okay.'

You release a breath, flopping back onto the grass behind you. "Okay. That's good. That was really clever, Bassoon."

'Like I said, I've had to do that before,' he says. 'It's never fun, but it'll do in a pinch.' He drags himself to his feet. 'All right. I'm going to get our course laid in. I'm going to try to jump us as far as we can from Zebul before the refugees can spread out to interdict us. Give me a few minutes, okay?'

"Yeah, sure," you reply, staring up into the sky. "Got a long month ahead of us."

---

You have escaped Zebul mere heartbeats ahead of the refugees. Now you face the long journey to New Namek, and while Bassoon thinks you'll be stopping at least once, you're still faced with a lot of downtime. For the first time since your escape, you actually have a stretch of time to yourself. Which means...

...it's time to make a schedule again.

A fair amount of folks said that they miss the AP plans and would welcome them back in some format. We're giving that a shot.

Over the month-long trip to New Namek, how does Kakara spend her time? Compose a plan from among the following categories, each of which has its own allotment of Action Points (AP).

Spoiler: Sight

The Sight -- or, perhaps more accurately, your psychic abilities -- got you into this mess. Kais and Ancestors willing, they will get you out. 2 total AP available.

[ ] Continue Your Training (1 AP): Dazarel hasn't let up with his insistence on training you. It's actually cute, how afraid he seems of the idea of failing in the task Grandpa Gohan gave him. His first step is to finish testing you for any Gifts other than your Sight. Follow Dazarel's training regime.

[ ] Looking Home (1 AP): You may have left home, but you will return someday. When you do, it would be best to be well informed. Devote a substantial amount of time and effort to using your Sight to keep up to date on the current events on Garenhuld.

[ ] Future Options (1 AP): The mysterious destinations that called to you when you fled Garenhuld, and again when you departed the Other World, are an intriguing mystery. Bassoon may have been a friend, but can you guarantee that the self-described, "Enemies," will be? Try to pierce the odd veil around your host options, revealing a random option's identity for the next time you need to find a new host.

[ ] Looking Abroad (1 AP) [TOPIC HERE]: It is difficult to fully describe the dizzying potential of your Sight. With sufficient precision and effort, literally anything past, present, or future is yours to behold. Use your Sight to look into a topic of your choice to the best of your abilities.

Spoiler: Training

The drive to improve oneself is intrinsic to the saiyan race, and you are as saiyan as they come in the modern world. 3 total AP available.

[ ] Improve a Skill (1 AP) [SKILL NAME GOES HERE]: Choose one of your existing skills to improve. Make a training roll in the specified skill. Exceptional or higher skills that are still event-locked will still train, but will not level up unless you trigger an unlock. Please note that you can no longer directly train super-skills like Hand-to-Hand or Ki Manipulation.

[ ] New Skills (1 AP) [SKILL NAME GOES HERE]: Your repertoire is impressive, but it can always expand. Variety is the spice of life and the key to not losing it. Acquire any skill of which Kakara knows, at an appropriate starting level. The skill's theory and practice must be things to which Kakara has access.

[ ] Research Project (1 AP) [PROJECT NAME GOES HERE]: There are some whispered legends yet to be recreated; there are some things held to be impossible. You brought the Genki Dama back into the world. You're only getting started. Start making research rolls to acquire or invent a skill to which Kakara does not have access. The project name should be the name of a technique you want to acquire or an effect you want to achieve, whichever is more descriptive (i.e., "Perfect Multiform," or, "a good piercing attack with an emphasis on speed." Success is not guaranteed.

[ ] Style Training (1 AP) [STYLE HERE]: Yammar took you apart. A good part of that is who he is and the experiences he has endured, but another part was his simple superiority as a fighter. You must improve. When you return to Garenhuld, it will not be peacefully. Make training rolls towards leveling up one of your combat styles.

[ ] Invent a Style (2 AP): Perhaps the answers to your needs do not rest in the past. Perhaps you need to strike your own path, if you are to stand against the trials set against you. Design a new combat style and begin training it.

Spoiler: Social

For as long as you can recall, you have been a social girl. Though you have grown rapidly over the past year or so and your life has turned upside-down, that fundamental truth has not changed. 2 AP available.

[ ] Strengthen Host Bond (1 AP): Neither you nor Bassoon fully understand the nature of the ties that bind you. Devote concerted effort to not merely being a presence in his head, but a person who's trying to get to know him. Perhaps you can unravel the mystery of your presence here. Focus social on Bassoon, improving your relationship with him and strengthening your host bond.

[ ] Talk to Dazarel (1 AP): Dazarel betrayed you. You offered him mercy and protection, and he turned on you. He is loyal now only because your death would mean his destruction. But...you're stuck with him. He's likely to be the only stable company you'll have over the next several years. Try to come to an accord with Dazarel.

[ ] Outreach (1 AP): Already, you feel like you're going crazy. Stuck in one person's head, with only an enemy for company, and both of them spending half their time at each other's throats. You need to find somebody else to talk to. Experiment with the idea of communicating with people outside of Bassoon's head without his assistance.

Spoiler: The Outside World

With the level of access you have, it's all-but-guaranteed that you'll be able to sway Bassoon into doing things in the outside world. 2 AP available.

[ ] Extra Stops (2 AP): You want to get a ground-level view of the galaxy. Despite the risk of refugee intervention, convince Bassoon to make some unnecessary stops on planets and at space stations, to help you with this. Gain a better view of the galaxy. Possibly encounter Tariq again. Mystery box secondary goodies.

[ ] Instruction (1 AP): He might complain about bottle blondes again, but you're riding in Bassoon's head, and you have a vested interest in keeping it intact. In spare moments, impart some of the secrets of your people's warrior traditions to him. The irony in you doing this is stifling, but you'll power through. Bassoon makes a concerted effort to train his power level and abilities this month, and you directly assist him.

[ ] Historical Insights (1 AP): Bassoon has mentioned to you, offhand, that he's originally a historian by trade. That actually represents a significant source of information for you on the state of the galaxy, and it'd be nearly criminal to neglect it. Bassoon gives you a history lesson on a topic of his choosing. Gain deep insight into that topic.

[ ] Further Experiments (1 AP): You experimented, briefly, with donating ki directly to Bassoon. It didn't go well. Try to figure out what went wrong, and see if you can't fathom any other limits your abilities might have. Map out the possibilities and limitations you have in interacting with Bassoon.

[ ] Write-In (AP Variable): You are Kakara Goku, and it has admittedly been a little while since you last made a proper list! You're sure that you can come up with something else that you've forgotten at just this moment!

MANUAL MORATORIUM; APPROVAL VOTING.

Alright, folks, we're back, and in more ways than one!

We're going to be stepping back into AP plans somewhat experimentally. I want to see if I can address the issues I had with them. In hindsight, stripping them entirely may have been unduly precipitous. In any event, this is a good format for a month-long pseudo-timeskip. The rules above are provisional; if this plays well, then I'll go back into traits and see how I want to implement a return to plans over there. I hope you all enjoy, folks! Have fun chatting, and I hope you've enjoyed this update.

Please do share your thoughts on this one, and remember to vote! I'm happy to bring back these kinds of plans, but I want to make sure that I'm doing it right. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts! See you around the thread!

 

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X] Plan Bassoon Has Apps Except We Don't Look Home
-[X] Continue Your Training
-[X] Future Options
-[X] Style Training: Tenshinhan Style
-[X] Research Project: Perfect Multiform
-[X] Improve a skill: Combat Precognition
-[X] Strengthen Host Bond
-[X] Talk to Dazarel
-[X] Historical Insights
-[X] Further Experiments

Self-Improvement
​

You take a deep breath, seated in the beauty of Bassoon's mindscape. You close your eyes, Dazarel settling in around your shoulders. "All right, Bassoon, I'm ready."

'And you're sure about this?' asks your host, sounding skeptical. 'You're in my head, but this is still your mind we're talking about. I haven't peeked yet.'

You shrug. "It's just mind-reading. Sketch if you're spying on me, but you're not. I gave permission. And hey, I'm actually pretty good at mental defenses. Maybe I'll keep you out on my own!"

'You will not,' drawls Dazarel. 'Namekian, if the ad hoc shields she improvised in the middle of my fight with her somehow withstand you, then as her teacher I give you full leeway to shatter them by whatever means are necessary. Otherwise, the test is pointless.'

'Your permission is both irrelevant and unasked for,' growls Bassoon. 'Kakara?'

"Do what the lizard says, this time," you sigh. "I'll deal, I do better with a challenge."

'All right, then,' replies Bassoon. 'Coming in.' A moment later, he fades into visibility in front of you. "Right. Let's get this going, then. Ready?"

You close your eyes and focus again on forming a shield of lightning around your thoughts, just like in your fight with Dazarel. You open your eyes and nod.

Bassoon reaches towards your head. "Good. Here I go- ow!" He immediately recoils, shaking out his hand. "That's ad hoc? That stings!"

'I told you I did not lose to anybody unexceptional,' sneers Dazarel. 'She cheated, but she put up a legitimately strong effort prior to that. Push through the pain, slug.'

Bassoon rolls his eyes. "Charming. Well, Kakara, the first thing I'll say is that those shields will definitely do their job. I wouldn't bother pushing through that in the middle of a fight. I definitely could, though." He raises his arm again. "Ready for me to try?"

You nod. "Go ahead."

Bassoon hisses in pain again, and then-

the lightning spasms even more than it normally does -- there's a pattern, you put it there, and now the pattern is gone -- and there's a hand reaching through it's bigger than you and it's coming on completely ignoring the lightning sparks still tracing down its fingers which are twitching and you never thought it'd be reasonable to say a hand looked angry before but it does and now it is there in your head, seizing open the pages of the book of your thoughts that the lightning was meant to shield and leafing carelessly through and now it can see you freaking out about it seeing you freaking out about it-

'And now, we experiment,' says Dazarel, completely at ease. 'Do you remember the trick to telepathy?'

You are panicking slightly, here, but you have enough presence of mind to respond with, 'Yes.'

'Excellent,' he says, curling into your shoulders and giving every appearance of his interest in the situation having evaporated. 'Do that, then.' He closes his eyes.

The panic intensifies a bit. Bassoon's not being rough or anything, nothing about this hurts, but you know from doing it that mindreading requires a certain mindset. It makes sense that it would generalize at least a little to other forms of it, and now that you're on the receiving end it's not something you're very comfortable to have driving that fuck-off massive hand rifling through the book containing your thoughts.

'I am sorry,' says Bassoon, his voice booming in your head as the hand stops. 'Again, this is all under your control. I'll leave if that's what you need.'

You shudder and try to focus on the fact that he's at least paused. "It's fine," you say. It feels better to speak aloud. "Keep going."

He lets out an audibly reluctant sigh. 'Five more minutes, then we're done.' The hand begins moving again.

You take hold of your panic with a shaky breath. Well, okay, that's a lie, but you have a better hold on it and it isn't spiraling. You'll take what you can get.

Okay, willpower. This is my mind, not yours?

The hand keeps on leafing, unimpeded.

Your eye twitches. I am in charge here. Get out.

It doesn't even twitch. You feel a twinge of frustration. You understand that this is an advanced skill, but you should be able to do something within the limits of your own mind-

You blink and promptly stop trying to think too hard about that. Don't look at it, it has no moving parts. It just is, don't question it. This is my mind. I can act in the limits of my own mind. It is mine, not yours. You're not even supposed to be here. That is how these things work.

The hand quivers on the book for a moment. In the world of the mindscape, Bassoon frowns in consternation. You reach up and close your fingers around his wrist. His eyes open and he gives you a quizzical look.

You give him a bright smile. "Time to go, now!"

The hand rockets back from the book as though shoved and slams straight into the lightning barrier. Bassoon spasms in your grip; you keep pushing. In a heartbeat, he's out and away.

Dazarel lifts his head. 'Well, then. We can stop testing.' He rises to his feet and glides down onto the grass between you and Bassoon before turning to face you. 'Congratulations, Princess; you're unique. You have a gift for internal mental powers.' He bares his teeth. 'I feel a little better now about not being able to read your thoughts during our fight.'

Bassoon steps back, grumbling. "I won't say that I couldn't have gotten back in, but that was impressive," he says. "That's what it feels like to interact with psychic abilities?"

'Yes,' replies Dazarel, looking over his shoulder. 'Challenging, aren't they?'

"It feels familiar, honestly," says Bassoon, frowning. "I think I might have interacted with a psychic before."

'I doubt that,' sighs Dazarel, looking away. 'You are still alive, after all.' He looks up at you. 'I do believe you have quite a bit of potential, Princess.' He bares his teeth. 'Perhaps this is not, in fact, a waste of my time.'

You have a gift for internal mental powers, presently in the form of psychic shielding that augments your ki-based mental defenses.

* * *
​

You settle into your preferred style's rest stance and breathe, focusing on getting your ki and body in balance. You smile; you are quite justly proud of your ki control. Once you've done the initial check to get in balance, you begin to move through your forms.

Bassoon, lazily reclined on a nearby beach with a book, glances up at you. "You hadn't really struck me as a dedicated fighter."

"I'm not!" you reply, continuing your practice. "All of my people do this."

"What, all of them?" he asks, setting down the book.

"Yeah! It's like sports!" You fire up your aura and start in on the aerial stances. "Hey, how do you have a book in here?"

"I keep my memories there," he replies.

"Oh," you say, nodding. "Got it. Jaffur uses rocks."

Bassoon frowns. "Jaffur?"

You miss a step. "Um. He's...he's my friend," you say after a long moment of trying to think of a more exact word. "He's still back home," you continue, hoping that it gives Bassoon something different to focus on.

It must work, because he doesn't call you on the stumble. "I'm sorry to hear that," he says. "How do you know what's in his mindscape, though? Is he a mage as well?"

"We call them sorcerers," you say. "Although, I guess it's more a job thing than a description of what they are? But yeah, he is." You shrug. "I wound up in his head when I first learned how to project," you say. "His is boring. Blank white expanse, and white rocks that hold memories."

"That's a common setup at first," replies Bassoon. "You learn to customize after a while. I'd go crazy if I had to look at that whenever I came down here."

You consider, for a moment, Jaffur's eternal isolation in that white expanse, bereft of all but the most cursory and functional of instruction. You consider Jaron, remembering each night how he forgot the previous morning all of the truth of the tragedy in his life and then having to spend all of his truly aware hours in that space.

You then consider how they each act.

"Yeah, I'd buy that," you murmur, shaking your head.

Bassoon hums in agreement, studying your movements. "What form is this?"

"Tenshinhan Style," you say, running through a series of afterimage drills.

"That's the form that the Z Fighter Tenshinhan used?" says Bassoon, sitting up in sudden interest.

"Well, no," you say. "Crane Style has kind of fallen out of favor. It's not that we can't pastwatch it, we can, but it'd have a lot of opportunity cost since that takes so much time. Honestly, it's better if we do something inspired by it instead of just copying it, anyway. Tenshinhan was a great fighter, but Crane Style was designed before the secrets of ki really came out as they did in later years. It was built for somebody without all of our advantages. Tenshinhan Style is in honor of him, though." Your hands frame your sternum, and you whirl to face the ocean. "KIKOHO!"

BANG

A square-shaped indent digs itself into the water before the whole thing flows back in, casting foam everywhere. "Like that," you say, returning to your drills. "Same techniques, similar philosophy, but we strip out a lot of the stuff that was made for humans who couldn't sense everybody on the planet and weren't as comfortable in the air as we are."

"I guess that makes sense," says Bassoon, his eyes devouring everything. "How do you decide what doesn't apply anymore, though?"

You recognize the look in his eyes and chuckle; it reminds you of yourself when you've got an interesting topic to latch onto. You finish this form and turn to him to start explaining the theory underlying the practice.

You have made progress towards the next level of Tenshinhan Style (1 progress gained, 3/10 progress). You have begun talking with Bassoon during spare time and are getting a better handle on his personality.

* * *
​

Perfect Multiform has been a frustrating puzzle to you for too long.

For years, every time you've tried to make forward progress, life has smacked you to a dead halt. Always, something else has come up. Always, people have interrupted you. Now, however, you have a truly uninterruptible block of time. If there is one -- and only one -- thing for which you will thank Dandeer, it is that forcing you to this gave you the chance to finally knock this long-term project off of your list.

It is a pleasure to begin.

Multiform is a frustrating technique. The reason it cuts power is well-known; the various clones all draw from a single reserve of power, so there's always a limit on how much can go around. Many Exile theorists have tried to get around this limit; all have found failure instead. That said, many Exile theorists had concluded that the Genki Dama was lost unless somebody went to go find its original teacher. While you did have to go to Heaven for your answers, you did recreate it, and you know that Cell had no such resources when he invented this technique. You can do this, too.

By now, you are used to the feeling of your ki pool splitting in half or in threes. For some reason, you can't split in this mindscape, but you can remember that feeling and work on ways to get around it. There are, after all, ways to boost one's supply of ki, if only temporarily, and you know that it's possible to keep the multiform technique running without a split like this. The only question is how to achieve that.

You have finally begun research into Perfect Multiform. Vote at the bottom for where to focus your efforts.

* * *
​

You have begun engaging with the theory of multiform, in preparation for the day that this odd restriction on your ability to split ends, or you get a new body. Either or. Where shall you focus your efforts?

[ ] Try to eliminate the splitting at the source: Multiform is the theoretical exercise of ki to split your physical form into separate copies, and it isn't like ki is incapable of acting on itself. Work to see if you can use your ki to create a perfectly identical copy with its own ki reserve. That seems like the kind of uncompromising approach Cell would've taken. This seems like it would be more expensive on ki to create, though.
[ ] Work on the clones themselves: Willpower pushes tell you that it's hardly impossible to boost somebody's ki reserves beyond their theoretical maximum, and there are dozens of specific techniques that make use of ki concentration or similar techniques to boost effective power. See if you can't trick your clones into working harder with what they have. That said, that sort of thing tends to impose an ongoing strain that shortens technique lifespan.
[ ] Write-in: Maybe there's something you're not seeing yet. (Write in a different approach to the problem. As a reminder: the moving part in question is that multiform intrinsically involves splitting off new physical forms from an existing ki source. Is there some other way you can think of to game that system?)

APPROVAL VOTING; MANUAL MORATORIUM.

All right, here we go! It's finally happening. Hope you enjoyed the update, folks! We'll be continuing on with the rest of your selected actions in future updates. For now, have a vote!

I've also put the actions checklist in the To-Do List on the Character Sheet with completed, in-progress, and incomplete markers attached, to help myself keep track. Have fun, everybody!

 

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[x] Try to eliminate the splitting at the source: Multiform is the theoretical exercise of ki to split your physical form into separate copies, and it isn't like ki is incapable of acting on itself. Work to see if you can use your ki to create a perfectly identical copy with its own ki reserve. That seems like the kind of uncompromising approach Cell would've taken. This seems like it would be more expensive on ki to create, though.

Explorations
​

The core of the issue with multiform is that it intrinsically involves splitting off new bodies from an existing ki pool, and they need to draw ki from somewhere. Realistically, then, the question becomes how you should avoid working multiple bodies from a single source.

At the moment, the work is theoretical. For whatever reason, multiform isn't working in your current setting. Whenever you try to initiate the split, you don't even feel anything. Nothing happens at all. So, for now, you simply work with facts and figures, trying to logic your way to a solution. Many would say that this is an exercise in futility, trying to apply the laws of logic and science to the practice of ki.

Those people are fools who have never felt the pulse of life the way you have. Ki is not something apart from the typical laws of life. If it were, you would not be able to understand one so keenly by use of the other. They all are manifestations of the same system, and the same rules apply.

So, step one: form a hypothesis.

Perfect multiform is the exercise of duplicating one's ki pool and splitting the results between separate bodies.

* * *
​

"It's like there's a barrier," you say, pushing the tiniest thread of ki into Bassoon's mindscape. He hisses in pain, and you retract it. "Except not really. Just...well, like I'm shoving energy into you. Except with ki, it usually works."

"It's probably something bizarre about the reason and way you're here in the first place," replies Bassoon, sitting down on the shore of the sea you stand by. "Maybe it's stripping away natural protections that are usually there? I don't know why that would happen, though."

You let out a quiet snarl of frustration, trying and failing to split off a new body, gather ki from your new surroundings, use your own senses through Bassoon's eyes, channel ki to him split off from him and fly away home even just flare to your full and unrestricted power-

-nothing. You sigh, teeth gritted. Take the anger, shove it down, blast it out at the sea later. Shaking your head, you sit down next to Bassoon. "We'll figure it out somehow. Eventually." You draw your knees up to your chest. "Probably."

Bassoon glances at you out of the corner of his eye. "Let's take a break. We can always come back to this stuff later."

You lean back. "Sure." You look across the waves. "Bassoon, I've noticed something. I'm not really trying to stay near the water, but somehow I always wind up on a beach whenever I'm walking around. Why's that?"

He nods. "Ah, that. Mindscapes are a little weird. There's no real set geography throughout most of it. The vast majority is formed by expectations." He gestures around him. "I built this place, and I built it to be familiar. I grew up by the seashore. It's familiar. So the stuff I tend to access often, I keep here. Important memories, spell components -- that sort of thing. I think that's why you can look through my eyes; if you went inland, I'm not sure you'd be close enough to the surface to see out."

You prop your cheek on your knees, looking at him. "Couldn't you just fly inland? When you lived on Namek, I mean."

"Well, sure," he says. "I did, even. But it was always a trip. Think about it; people don't stop thinking of a small area as home once their planet gets cars. They just make more trips from home. Same with me. So inland is always...somewhere else. You go there for things that are worth getting but aren't worth moving towards. More obscure memories go there, mostly." He points upwards. "And once you leave the planet, it's not me anymore."

You hum, glancing back over your shoulder. "...so what do you think Dazarel is doing out there all the time?"

"Poking around and being a pest," replies Bassoon. "I don't think he has it in him not to search for a weakness. Of course, he hasn't found one, yet." He grins. "And he won't."

You turn back out to look at the waves. Their constant motion is soothing, for all that the green color is strange. "I suppose there's not much he can do. He is sealed tight, after all." You frown. "I do wonder, though."

* * *
​

You touch down a few yards behind Dazarel. The dragon looks over his shoulder at you. 'Ah.' He turns back to the rock in front of him. 'Hello, Princess.' He stretches his neck out and touches his nose to the rock. He snorts. 'Nothing.'

"Are you really poking around in Bassoon's head?" you ask, pacing forward.

'But of course,' replies the lizard. 'It is my nature.'

You sigh and shake your head, leaning up against the rock. "You know that he knows what you're doing."

'Naturally, but he has yet to stop me, and so I search.' He flutters up to your shoulder. 'And what brings you so far into our host's psyche?'

"Checking in on you," you reply, rolling your eyes. "Making sure you didn't get caught in a trap."

'He favors passive defenses,' replies Dazarel in a dismissive tone. 'I'm quite incapable of doing anything about them in my current state.' He yawns and stretches before laying down. 'The experience has been instructive, though. His defenses are far lower here than in his outer mindscape.'

You glance around, taking in the rolling blue fields on Namek's inland regions. "I mean, you do have to go for a while to get here. He doesn't even keep much out here, from what he says."

'There is the odd village, which I suspect is where he keeps the majority of his possessions,' replies Dazarel. 'Uninhabited, of course. I doubt he really thinks much of places where one cannot hear the sea. Listen closely, and you will see what I mean.'

You blink and strain your ears. "What? There's nothing."

'Yes, exactly,' replies Dazarel. 'Nothing at all. No wildlife. No grass rustling. Not even a breeze. I doubt he would say it so plainly, but the slug probably finds these plains unnervingly quiet. And thus, here, they are.'

Now that Dazarel has mentioned it, you can't stop noticing it. The silence seems to weigh on you; you keep expecting to hear something, but there is just absolutely...nothing. No background noise at all. "I should be able to hear the waves from this distance," you say, shivering.

'But that is not how our host thinks of it,' observes Dazarel. 'It is different in those villages. Despite the absence of people, there is a general commotion on the edge of hearing, there. Things clinking and clattering. It isn't loud, but it's present. As I said, I doubt he keeps anything of value in these plains. They are too empty, and the presentation is too devoid. Here, his defenses are low, as there is nothing of value here for him to guard.'

You frown. "It's his mind."

'I did specify things of value, did I not?'

You growl and swipe the dragon off of your shoulders. By now, he's used enough to it that he takes wing and flaps off into the sky without even touching the ground. Leaning back on the rock, you peer out at the eerily silent plains. It seems odd that a person's mind -- however abstracted -- could turn up so desolate a place. Odder still, that defenses would be low here. You know that your shields simply encompass your mind entirely; perhaps magic is different. You go to a knee, running your fingers through the grass.

Your fingers still. "Like there's a barrier," you whisper, eyes narrowing. You glance around. You look back to the ground. You draw up ki, and you push.

The sky lights up like a fireball in a familiar shade of brilliant pale blue. You grin.

"WHOA, HEAD RUSH," booms Bassoon's voice from every angle. "KAKARA, WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?"

You laugh out loud, throwing back your head. "Figured out a way around the problems with ki donation!" you call, grinning. You fold your arms. "Now, Bassoon, don't you know it's rude to refuse gifts?"

* * *
​

"Are you ready?" you ask, fingers sunk into the sand by the seashore.

"Yeah," says Bassoon, floating over the water.

"Are you sure?" you ask.

"I'm sure," he says, frowning. "I figured out how I was blocking you, and it's fixed, all right?"

"Hey, don't snap at me!" you say. "I just want to make sure I don't give you ki allergies again!"

He sighs. "Look, it's uncomfortable enough to suppress what amounts to my immune system against attempts at tampering with my head. Can you not make it worse by second-guessing me."

You huff. "Fine, I'll be quiet."

He nods. "Thank you." He takes a breath. "All right. I'm ready."

"Okay!" you say, grinning. "Ki donation test number seventeen. Five thousand units, base form, pushing in three...two...one...push."

In the image projected on the sky above, a pale blue aura outlines Bassoon's arms. His internal projection vanishes, and you watch his body start moving again. He holds up his arms, inspecting the flicker of your ki around them. "Fascinating," he says.

You laugh happily. One frustrating difficulty surpassed. Many more to go...but you've begun.

You have begun to deepen your connection to Bassoon, your host, and in the process have uncovered how to lower some of his natural mental defenses for you. You can now donate ki to him as normal, and multiform now works again.

* * *
​

With one breakthrough already had, more follow.

You proceed to actual multiform experiments after years of delay. At first, you simply reacclimate yourself to the work of splitting your actual form. Only once you have once again gotten used to spending all of your daily time multiformed do you proceed to your experiments. There, you immediately hit a wall. Applying the copying effect to your ki is possible in principle, but nobody aside from Cell -- as far as you know -- has ever done it in practice. You can see why. You spend all of the remainder of your trip to New Namek burning through multiform time in an effort to create a second ki pool. Up until the end, nothing happens.

Only once, mere days before you reach your destination, do you finally encounter success. Straining again to enact the split on your ki, for a heartbeat, you succeed. Your perspective doubles in the familiar splitting that precedes the clones developing separate consciousnesses, and for a moment, you feel the heady rush of actual full power from each perspective...

...until the strain finishes burning through your ki pool, the split collapses, and you slump to the ground, unconscious and completely out of ki.

You have proven that it is -- in principle -- to fully split your ki pool into equal duplicates. It currently costs literally every scrap of ki you have beyond vital functions stuff and drops you out of the form immediately. It is thus completely impractical.

But it's possible.

Multiform skill improved! Talented-->Exceptional. Changes: Kakara may now make up to four clones, creation is instantaneous, the clones' separation range expands from, "a hundred miles," to, "planetary," and you now have three daily uses of up to an hour each. Finally, the AP boost is back, and goes from two AP extra per turn to three.

Finally, the PM project remains open, and will henceforth focus on feasibility.

* * *
​

You stand aross from Dazarel in the endless plains filling in the content of Bassoon's mind and crouch. "Time start." Your eyes film over white as you slip into the Sight and begin to delve into your combat precognition.

Dazarel stretches as he rises and begins to pace. 'I must admit that this is a fine enough test you've concocted, Ape Princess. I find myself quite-'

He lunges forward, wings flaring as he lunges for your face. You feel not a twinge of warning, but your power level is high enough to dance away.

'-happy with this form of training,' he finishes, settling to the ground. 'That was a failure, I take by the frustration on your face?'

"Sterling observation," you snarl, shaking the white from your eyes before dropping back into it. "One more time! Take ten!"

The dragon rolls his eyes. 'I'll never complain about the chance to lunge at you without reprisal,' he snarks, settling onto his haunches.

"Enjoy it while you can," you say, distracted.

'Oh, I intend to. You are focusing, aren't you?'

"Of course I am!" you snap, pulling away from your abilities. "I-"

left

You dodge left a moment before Dazarel opens his jaws and roars forth a tiny stream of flame. It passes by to your right.

Dazarel bares his teeth in a cocky grin. You blink back, sheepish. "...oh."

'And what have we learned?'

"Focus less," you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers.

'Very good, little apprentice.'

"Don't call me that."

'Very well.'

Combat precognition improved to your basic Seer skill level.

* * *
​

"Dazarel?" you ask, sitting next to the lizard during one of his rare visits to the seashore areas. "Why do you do what you do?"

'Your ancestor threatened me into compliance, and my self-interest is intrinsically bound up in your survival,' he replies without opening his eyes, curled up on the sand.

"No, I meant the big thing you do," you say. "Why kill planets? Why be a monster? Why...eat people? I don't understand why you would want to. I know you're capable of getting along with people. You do -- barely -- with Bassoon and me. You said you studied with the Kanassans. So...why? We can't possibly taste that good."

Dazarel sighs, opening his eyes. 'Indeed, you do not. To be perfectly frank, humans and the like are bony and stringy, for my taste. But, if you'll recall, that's not what I get out of it.'

You think back to your fight with him and sigh in realization. "You eat our ki."

'So I do,' he replies. 'Delicious as dumb animals are once sapient creatures spend millennia domesticating them, they produce virtually no ki at all, and all of it physical energy. Even the worst-trained ki warrior in the galaxy bursts with mental energy and willpower compared to an animal. That taste is what I get out of eating people, aside from the sheer fact of getting stronger from it. Given time and enough meals, there is no limit to my strength, and the very act of getting stronger is delightful.' He peers up at you. 'You could learn to do it. I could even argue that it would be responsible of you.'

You snort. "Okay, this I have to hear."

He bares his teeth. 'Consumed to feed your strength or eradicated by your Enemy, the people of this Universe are just as dead. Maintain small breeding populations of all the races you care to spare, recruit an attractive confederate you won't mind reproducing with, eat the rest to gather strength enough to kill your Enemy, and you still have saved an infinity more lives than you could ever take. And you get the added pleasure of being Queen of all the Universe. It's not like Zeno would care. It might even entertain him.'

"I am...forced to agree with that last thing," you say, wincing as you remember some of your people's choicer legends regarding the Highest's behavior. "That doesn't mean I plan on doing what you're suggesting."

'Of course not. You've lived your entire life being taught that these insipid creatures have intrinsic value. Given time, I'm sure you would come to understand the magnitude of this error. But I have no need to so instruct you. I do not make the mistake of conflating moral and actionable strength, and my job is to teach you the latter only.' He closes his eyes again and lays down his head.

"And don't you ever get lonely?" you ask.

'Why do you think I talk so much?' he asks, one eye opening to look at you. 'I desire interaction with others as much as any other being. I do not intend to eat everybody, after all. But I do not require that my interactions be on friendly terms.'

"You are one messed-up person," you say, standing up and stretching. "I don't think that I could be happy, living like that."

'You would be surprised,' he remarks, settling down again. 'There is substantial fulfillment in knowing that nothing is beyond you, given time.'

"I'm a saiyan, I have that without eating people," you snap.

'And yet your ancestors fell,' he remarks. 'Since then, your legendary strength has quite failed to make an impression on the Universe. I, on the other hand, have continued...and still, I grow stronger.'

You sigh, looking away. "You're wrong, Dazarel. I don't know what to say. You're just...wrong."

You have failed to meaningfully impact Dazarel's worldview, or to improve your relationship with him...but you now understand him a bit better, and he has revealed some crucial facts about how he views the world.

* * *
​

In the spare moments in between Dazarel training you in general psychic principles and your own practice in combat precognition, you find the time to have a vision on your own merits.

You still remember the options that stretched out before you on your flight from Garenhuld, and again when you departed the Other World. Monolithic concepts more than destinations, they sang in your blood in a way that not even Oozaru can match. In those harried moments, they seemed unknowable. Irreducible, even.

You do not accept that. You are a saiyan. You are a psychic. You are a seer. No challenge is too great. Nothing is beyond your will. Nothing can hide from your Sight. It may take effort, but you will uncover this mystery.

You cast out your Sight without launching yourself from Bassoon's body and feel again for those options. You know two of them -- three, counting Bassoon -- but what about the others? You need information. Future You said that every path was valuable; they all must have something you can use. But what? You need to know before the next upheaval tears you away and sents you hurtling once more through the galaxy.

You feel the concepts again; only two of them jump out at you, with, "Old Friends," no longer singing in your mind. Five, then, remain for your perusal. Five choices for you to learn about.

---

You have once more found your way to that strange set of choices, and are prepared to crack one of them open, granting you at least a glimpse of the truth that lies beyond.

What do you choose?

[ ] New friends.
[ ] Old family.
[ ] New family.
[ ] Old enemies.
[ ] New enemies.

TWO-HOUR MORATORIUM. APPROVAL VOTING. FOR THIS ONE, NO WRITE-INS.

And we're back! Hope you enjoyed this update, folks! Next one will wrap up the month and take us down to New Namek! Your character sheet has been updated; I look forward to seeing you around the thread. Have fun!

 

[PoptartProdigy]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[x] Old Family

The Rest of the Way
​

You lean into that feeling of old family -- family so old that nobody alive today should even remember it, but family still. It feels like there's a wall keeping you away from them, a wall without purchase or friction.

Well, tough. I'm a seer.

That attitude is something new to you under normal circumstances, but Dazarel has made it clear how vital it is to being able to function as a psychic. So: the wall has no handholds. Okay. The wall is smooth. Sure. It won't budge?

Yes it will.

Your press your hands into it and, for a moment, simply know that the wall will give.

And, at once, it does. Energy sucks out of you in a desperate rush. In the real world, you feel your body sag. But the wall breaks, and you stumble through.

Grandmother Lazuli.

For just a moment, the image of a woman who could be your mirror if only she had a tail flashes before your eyes, her gaze fixed on something with a suspicious scowl. Around her is a chaotic scrum of flashing ki blasts and churning rubble, and she looks to be caught in the middle of a strike at somebody just out of your line of sight. Next to her, yet curiously out of focus, is a man with an obvious family resemblance to her, black-haired, but with the same blue eyes, also mid-blow.

And then the image flickers out, and you find yourself back on the beach in Bassoon's mindscape. You gasp, not having realized that you were holding your breath. Then you grin. You had suspected that the old family you had would be 17 and 18...now you have confirmation. And they're fighting.

The smile fades. They're fighting...what?

Your Old Family is Lazuli -- Android 18, somehow still alive and kicking, accompanied by her brother, and apparently surrounded by battle.

* * *
​

History With Bassoon: The Alliance of Free Stars

The rise of the Alliance of Free Stars -- "Starries," to some, "The Alliance," to those less flippant -- is largely due to what many people call the last legacy of Earth. This is entirely due to its leadership. A pair of unnaturally powerful and long-lived human twins going by Lapis and Lazuli, in partnership with a pink alien who dares take the name of the legendary boogeyman Buu, form the strong center of this coalition.

The trio's reasons for intervening in the Empire's spread across the galaxy are not known, other than a self-evident and powerful disdain for Emperor Frigid on the twins' part. Buu largely appears to be a follower. However, their effect on history has been more than apparent.

Before the Alliance formed, the Galactic Kingdom was on the brink of collapse. The East and South had splintered away into hundreds of independent fiefdoms that only grew more numerous by the week, the West had fallen, and the North was rapidly collapsing. The Core was all that was left to them, and the Empire was mustering for an assault on that space. It seemed like the galaxy would fall under the rule of a resurgent Empire, ruled once more by powerful Arcosian mutants.

Enter Lapis, Lazuli, and Buu. The three appeared on Planet Razkep, on the very fringes of the galaxy, evicting the warlord who had previously lived there. By all indications, the coup was on impulse, prompted by their personal disgust of the warlord's habits. Afterward, they moved on, handing things over to the locals. That said, that was not the first leader they found objectionable enough to oust.

The trio moved from place to place, kicking out the tyrants of the South. Nobody knows why they were down there in the first place, but it presumably can't have been too important, because they got sidetracked often enough. The actual formation of the Alliance wasn't their work -- they were never that interested in the fine details of politics -- but their work cleared the way, and without them, the Alliance would never have lasted.

The Alliance's Defense Council approached Lapis, Lazuli, and Buu shortly after the Alliance formed, asking the trio to help protect the Alliance their actions had inadvertently given an opening to come into being. They agreed.

All of this, interesting as historians find it, is ultimately backstory. The Alliance's politics, Lapis, Lazuli, and Buu's travels around the galaxy, a hundred tales of revolution and tyranny -- these are all simply the prelude to the titanic clash that stopped the Empire from swallowing the galaxy.

The trio first made their debut on the wider galactic stage by halting an Imperial invasion of the Alliance's western space single-handedly, putting paid to a force that would have helped close the final noose around the Galactic Kingdom's throat. This was the event that put the Alliance on the galaxy's radar. Over the next several months, Imperial and Alliance forces clashed again and again. While the Empire could field greater numbers of troops, it swiftly became clear that Lapis, Lazuli, and Buu were a trio of trump cards that not even the disparity in numbers could easily overwhelm. Wherever they went, the battles turned in their favor, even when members of the Empire's ruling family took the field.

This clash gave the Kingdom breathing space to firm up their borders in the Core and halt their imminent collapse, and the Alliance, led by its trio of trumps, managed to establish itself in the South. These combined efforts stymied the Empire, which withdrew and resigned itself to a slow campaign to subjugate the North in the hopes of securing resources and recruiting populations that would allow them to conquer their enemies.

Despite their common enemy, the Alliance and the Kingdom are not friendly with one another. The Alliance thinks little of the Kingdom, seeing them as a failing state whose claims of rightful galactic hegemony are insulting. The Kingdom sees the Alliance as a rebellious vassal. They are not openly hostile, given the continuing threat of the Empire, but they also make no secrets of their opinions of one another. They cooperate only in not bothering to guard their mutual borders, and were the Empire to fall today, nobody is under any illusions that there would be no war tomorrow.

This, then, is the state of the galaxy, with the Kingdom, the Empire, and the Alliance in a three-way standoff with one another. The East remains chaotic and unsettled, given the other powers' inability to spare them attention. The galaxy is in a tense stalemate, and even a momentary shift in the balance of power could lead to things coming to a sudden, crushing end.

* * *
​

Your journey is uneventful. Having fully restocked at Zebul, you have no further need to stop for quite a while and get ahead of the refugees with ease. You only need to stop one more time on your way back to New Namek for fuel. It goes smoothly enough, and soon...

"All right," says Bassoon, peering at his instrument panel. "Dropping in three...two...one..."

vrrrrrrrthump

The view outside the window resolves back into coherency, and you become the first of your people to gaze upon the surface of New Namek in over three hundred years.

New Namek

Spoiler: Image

You gape at the sight, struck by the sudden feeling of history pressing in on you. "It really is green," you say. Then you blush as the sheer inanity of that statement strikes you.

Bassoon chuckles. "Oh, yes. Very green." He starts taking the ship down towards the planet.

"I'm just used to blue!" you say.

"Yeah, yeah...that's weird," replies Bassoon.

'No, I'm with the Princess on this one,' sighs Dazarel. 'Blue is the most common kind of atmosphere, in my experience. And, thus, the most common kind of water. You are the weird ones.'

Bassoon snorts. "Well, it's normal to me. Personally, I think having my grass and skies swapped would just be weird."

You shake your head. "Well, I don't have to think it's normal to think it's pretty." You smile. "And it is. It's beautiful."

"Why thank you," laughs Bassoon, grinning. "We do try." The spacecraft jolts as it hits the atmosphere, and you begin descending towards the cloud layer below.

You look around, unsettled, as the entire craft shakes. "...this doesn't feel stable."

"The space ship doesn't have ki to smooth things out," says Bassoon. "It's stable enough, though. It'll shake, but it's not going to come apart. I've done this a dozen times before." The ship thuds loudly. Bassoon sighs. "Besides, even if it did fall apart, I still have ki. We'd be fine."

"Comforting," you snark, folding your arms.

Bassoon rolls his eyes and grumbles about teenagers.

The ship comes down fairly quickly, despite your escalating complaints about the speed and stability. Still, by the time you land, Bassoon looks ready to throw you straight out of his head. He leaps up from the controls and stalks his way out of the ship. He has to squint against the light for a moment, but his eyes adjust fairly quickly. He gazes across the scenery -- a vast plain stretching away from the shore of an ocean. He takes a deep, cleansing breath of the planet's air, stretching himself out. He sighs, smiling.

Then he cups his hands around his mouth and hollers, "I'm home!" His voice echoes off into the distance and fades away.

tsew

Then another namekian appears, grinning. "Bassoon! Welcome home!"

Bassoon grins back. "Matsu! Great to see you!"

The two of them then proceed to share a hug so manly you just have to roll your eyes, flopping back on the grass inside Bassoon's mindscape. Bassoon pulls away first, sobering. "It's good to see you again, Matsu, but I'm afraid I need to talk to the Guru right away. Something's come up."

Matsu blinks at the tone shift before growing serious himself. "Darn right, it has. We're all on high alert, lately. The Empire's coming."

"That, too," sighs Bassoon. "I've got more wonderful news, though." He shrugs. "I have to talk to Guru. Where is he?"

"He's in his home," replies Matsu. "I'll fly over with you."

The two namekians nod to each other before taking off, zooming far inland. "How bad does it look here?" asks Bassoon. "I don't have a lot of details."

"I'm surprised you know at all!" replies Matsu. "Last I heard, the messengers hadn't found you yet! You must have really booked it back here, or something!"

"Or something," agrees Bassoon. "But seriously, what's going on?"

"A full-scale invasion," answers Matsu, his voice grim. "The Empire is coming to crush us, Bassoon. No games. We're in a lot of trouble. Rumor has it that a member of the imperial family is leading the invasion!"

Bassoon swears under his breath. "Which one?"

"No word yet," sighs Matsu. "We're hoping it's Haila. If it's anybody else, you know we're doomed."

Bassoon growls under his breath. "Great."

"Haila?" you ask.

'More history lessons later,' he snaps.

You see a large house up ahead. Matsu and Bassoon course-correct towards it and put on a burst of speed, arriving in seconds. Matsu pats Bassoon on the shoulder. "He'll have heard you. I'll head on back to my work, now." He takes off again, flying back the way he came.

"Thanks, Matsu," mutters Bassoon, eyeing up the house. Then he sighs and steps over to the door, raising his hand to knock.

"Come in, Bassoon," calls a voice from within the house.

Bassoon stills before letting out a little laugh, shaking his head. Then he opens the door.

The Guru is neither the withered, cane-wielding old man your people's legends remember of Kami nor the massive being they remember of the last Guru of Old Namek. He is relatively slender and clearly wrinkled, but he stands and moves with an air of easy vitality that the years have yet to steal from him. At the moment, he's working over a boiling pot of soup.

"This recipe is a delight," says the Guru, tossing in a handful of spices. "The scent is wonderful."

Bassoon sidles over to a table in the kitchen, easing himself into a chair. He says nothing.

"Somehow, I never feel quite at home without the smell of this soup," continues the Guru, stirring a few times. He knocks the liquid off of the spoon he's using and sets it aside. He goes to a sink and washes his hands, chuckling. "And, of course, it's liquid enough that we actually get something out of it." He sets the towel aside and turns to face Bassoon fully. "Hello, son."

Bassoon smiles back. "Hello, Father."

The Guru nods. "Welcome home."

"Glad to be back," sighs Bassoon. "Sounds like a lot is about to go wrong."

"Indeed," says the Guru. "I'd be curious to know how you found that out, though. I know the messenger I sent your way hasn't made contact yet."

Bassoon lets out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, that's, uh...quite the story."

"Indeed?" The Guru raises an eyebrow. "I'd love to hear it."

'Showtime, Kakara,' says Bassoon, his voice echoing around the mindscape.

---

So, how do you want to explain this one -- and, in the process, secure New Namek and the Guru's tolerance and aid?

[ ] You do not. Bassoon, you do it!
[ ] Well. Um. If you had to, you suppose you would...
-[ ] ...focus on your ultimate goals going forward and why they are goals worthy of support.
-[ ] ...emphasize how much has been stripped from you over an astoundingly brief period of time and why you are worth the Guru's pity.
-[ ] ...play up the ancient friendship between your people and the namekians, if necessary making promises on your eventual authority of reciprocated help in the future once practical.
-[ ] Write-in.

THREE-HOUR MORATORIUM. APPROVAL VOTING.

Again, that is a three-hour moratorium, not a manual moratorium.

We've arrived at Namek, and the turn is nearly over! This is our last update before the next AP round. I hope you've enjoyed, folks, and I'll see you around the thread! Things are about to kick up...