03-28-2010, 06:01 PM
As he slowly drifted into unconsciousness, Juno never would have guessed that he would’ve been awoken by the stinging sensation of bitingly cold soft drink splashing into his face. He shot up, spitting up cola and progressing into a coughing fit as he leaned over the bench that he had been lain upon. “Oh, come on,” the cycloptic man standing above him moaned, “It wasn’t that bad.”
The half-blood shot his elder a vicious glare. For a moment, he had been completely removed from the world; the lively carnival around him served only as the mysterious void from whence this soft drink had come. Now, however, Orion stood before him, and it was quite clear to the hybrid that the veteran had indeed been the one to wake him from his slumber. He scowled as he glanced at the man, and then spat at him the only words he could possibly think of for this situation: “What the hell was that for?!”
“Hey, I’m just trying to help you out here, kid!” Orion shot back, but the half-Saiyan persisted in his protestations to the one-eyed man’s ‘assistance.’
“Some help,” he scoffed, leaning back against the side of the bench, “Why don’t you throw a hot dog down my pants next?” Orion’s one eye contorted quizzically, and Juno had to agree. He didn’t fully know what he had meant by the expression either, but it was too late now—he’d said it, so he had to stand behind it.
“You better watch your tone, kid,” the elder scolded, stepping closer and assuming an intimidating stance. For the first time since he could remember, the hybrid found himself fearing the results of this encounter, and decided that it was best to just assume a pacifistic philosophy. “You collapsed out there and I dragged you back here to wake you up again,” Orion told him calmly, “If not for me, you’d probably be dying out there.”
The hybrid bit his lip. “You’re… you’re the guy who caught me,” he realized dejectedly, and the eye-patch-sporting Saiyan nodded.
“You’re welcome,” Orion grimaced, crossing his arms. Juno knew he must’ve thought he was an ungrateful cretin, and if he hadn’t been knocked into his senses, he probably would’ve acted that way. Something told him, though, that this act deserved some merit—after all, he’d probably saved his life.
“Th-thank you,” the hybrid mumbled shamefully. He rubbed his abdomen; the pain was practically diminished. Whatever had happened to knock him unconscious, it had dispelled the pain for now. I suppose I have Gamer to thank for that, Juno smirked inwardly, and then looked up to his physical savior. “I’m feeling a lot better now. The pain’s… gone now.”
Ready to leave Orion with the notion that his charge had recovered, the hybrid slowly began to rise to his feet. He didn’t find pain to meet him, but rather simple exhaustion, and slipped up, falling loosely back onto the bench. He cursed under his breath.
“I… I think walking’s out of the question right now,” he swooned, putting a hand to his forehead. His temperature had dropped immensely, probably due in part to Orion’s interesting medical procedures.
“Juno, was it?” Orion asked.
“Yeah, that’s right,” he replied with a nod and a smile, happy that his name had been remembered more than once today, “You said your name was Orion?”
The veteran nodded, slumping onto the bench next to the black-clothed boy. He let out a heavy sigh, gazing up at the sky, which was perpetually locked in twilight. Juno’s eyes followed his elder’s gaze, intent on hearing his next words. There was something about this guy… something that fascinated him. As the hybrid followed his gaze, his eyes focused on something very strange. It was no disturbance in the sky, nothing about the area around them that puzzled him, but rather something on Orion’s own figure: a circular yellow ring floating idly above his head. A halo.
He’s dead, Juno realized, but he retracted the obvious questions he had, deciding to save them for a later time. He stared at the halo for a moment, knowing full well that was what it was—he’d seen pictures of Sophia during Dante’s Abyss, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t been alive very long. Dead people wore halos loosely above their heads.
They sat there for a moment, and the hybrid took care to avert his eyes when Orion looked down from his gaze toward the heavens… toward where he would have to return to after this game was over, whenever the game was over. Juno would have to admit that he was impressed with Gamer, garnering dead people to play this twisted game with them. He glanced down at his pager, as it was steadily buzzing, but quickly set it aside.
“Since when did a Saiyan warrior perform the duties of a common nurse?” Orion asked rhetorically, muttering it almost to himself. Juno’s attention was, once again, captured by Orion’s casual mention of something seemingly unimportant.
“Saiyan?” the hybrid asked, deciding to start with his living persona and ease into the questions about death, if he got to them at all, “Did I hear you right?”
“Yeah,” Orion replied, puzzled by the boy’s curiosity. Saiyan populated the galaxy; it was intriguing to have so many people be curious about his race in such a short span of time. “What of it?”
“Well, I have Saiyan blood in my veins, you know,” Juno said, a clearly recognizable sense of Saiyan pride reverberating in his voice. Maybe, too, he was just trying to impress this warrior, who looked distinctly more powerful than he. He sighed inwardly; no matter how much he grew, he would still search for the approval of those he thought better than he.
They exchanged a few words about the Saiyans—once learning of Juno’s half-blood status and distinct lack of knowledge about his people, Orion gladly opened up a few cultural doors for him.
“…I happen to be part of the elites,” he said with perhaps even more pride than Juno’s earlier comment had contained, “the strongest and best of the Saiyan race.”
Juno nodded, enthralled. He remembered vaguely the first years of his life, when he’d lived in the castle on Vegeta-sei, back when the first king Vegeta had ruled. His mother had been human, he knew, which meant that his father had been Saiyan, but he consistently put thoughts of the man to the back of his mind, not exactly caring to divulge any information about him; even to himself. He remembered his reptilian nurse, how she had cared for him in his early years because of his mother’s status as head servant at the castle.
He remembered just years later, when he wandered the streets pick-pocketing the rich, with their fancy airs. He remembered becoming a part of the family, and going professional with his criminal tendencies. And he remembered the circumstances that had forced him out. The circumstances that brought him to Mercy, which had brought him to Frost, which had brought him to Earth, which had brought him to Friend or Foe, which had brought him to become the person he was now.
He let himself grow distracted from Orion’s lecture for a moment, distracted by his own pointless thoughts of the life he’d once known. But this—this was the life he had now, and as much as he loved to think it was worse, as much as he loved to constantly consider himself and everyone around him a victim, he knew that that wasn’t true. He had to build this life from scratch, and so far, he thought he’d done a pretty good job of it. After all, building had never been his forté, so to come as far as he had in a year—it was good work.
“Hey, kid, you listening to me?”
“Huh?” the ‘kid’ replied. He normally would’ve been offended by that, but he knew that Orion was old—and, uh, dead—so he probably was a kid to him. So he suffered through the makeshift nickname.
“Thought not,” the one-eyed Saiyan smirked, leaning back over the bench, “Something bothering you, kid? Why’d you fall down, anyway?”
“I’m… not exactly sure,” Juno admitted, “They—the doctors—said I’ve got something, some disease. It’s debilitating me, I can hardly do anything. It had disappeared since I’d gotten here, but suddenly, while I was just sitting there, talking to a friend of mine—” there it was again, he was using that word for Kaden, friend, “—it just popped up, and five minutes later, I was sprawled across the dirt. And that’s where you come in, I guess.” Orion nodded, and Juno felt thankful that the one-eyed Saiyan had waked him. He supposed that he probably would’ve died, or could’ve died, if he’d been left there to rot. Maybe he did have a good bit to thank Orion for. It was at that moment that his pager began to beep.
“What is that incessantly annoying noise?” Orion muttered, irritated. Juno unclipped his pager from his belt and looked at the newest update Mixie had sent out. “What’s it say?” Orion asked, leaning over and glancing at the screen.
“Szar is now the badge leader, with four badges.”
“WHAT?!” Orion yelled, and Juno clutched his ears, dropping the pager on the ground. Orion’s volume was impressive. “I don’t know what the hell a badge is, but we’ve got to get them away from that lizard,” he steamed.
“Well, we could Covet one from him,” Juno said cautiously, “I mean, steal one, you know. For twenty monies.”
“Monies…? Whatever, it doesn’t matter, just do it,” Orion rattled off.
“Why me?” Juno asked, “Why don’t you do it yourself if you’re so concerned?”
“He’ll expect that,” Orion stated as if it was obvious.
“So you’d like to get me killed?” Juno laughed, quickly punching in the Covet and smiling as another badge popped out. He slid it into his pocket. That was two.
“Well, if you die, at least you’ll have someone to keep you company,” Orion smiled, gesturing to the halo. “Let’s hope you don’t, though. From Szar or that sickness of yours.”
“I noticed,” Juno said in reply to Orion’s first comment, nodding at the man’s halo. Then, he moved onto the second part of the man’s statement, suddenly remembering Kaden’s mention of the wish-granting ‘dragon balls.’ Seemed kind of farfetched to the ex-fortune teller, but he supposed it was worth a shot. “The friend that I was talking about,” he continued, “He said something about, like ‘dragon balls’ or something. They’re supposed to grant you a wish or something. I figured if I found these things, I could wish to be well again, since there isn’t much the docs can do for me. Trouble is… I’ve got no idea where to look.”
“Try Namek,” Orion laughed, Saiyan bias obviously filtering through, “Those antennae-heads are always making some mystical crap.”
“But… do you really think it’ll work?” the hybrid asked, more rhetorically than anything, but Orion replied anyhow.
“It’s worth a shot, kid,” the cycloptic soldier said, standing and offering his hand to Juno, “Here, let’s see if you can walk. It’s been a couple of minutes.”
“Alright,” Juno replied, grasping the much larger hand and pushing off the bench as Orion pulled him up. He got to his feet—barely—before stumbling into a shambled, almost zombified walk. Slowly, he got his footing, and stood up straight, turning around and thanking Orion for all his help. The Saiyan nodded.
“It’s nothing, kid,” Orion smiled.
“You know, Orion,” the hybrid said, using his name to address him for the first time, “If you really wanted, I could use the dragon balls to wish you back to life. I’m sure there’s someone out there I can pay to fix me up.”
“You’ve got a pretty certain chance of living if these things exist,” Orion said, sitting back on the bench, “You’re young. I’m old. Save your own damn life.”
They shared a chuckle, and then waved in passing as Juno stumbled away, into the dark depths of the Kill Town carnival. He thought on what Orion said and realized that everything he’d listed was true, and if they were real, which Juno couldn’t see any reason why they wouldn’t be, they were his only sure chance of survival. That meant, more than anything, that he had to get out of this place—he had to get out so that he could go to Namek and find these things, and heal himself. It was all he could do to restrain the newfound hope and optimism that was bubbling up inside him.
The half-blood shot his elder a vicious glare. For a moment, he had been completely removed from the world; the lively carnival around him served only as the mysterious void from whence this soft drink had come. Now, however, Orion stood before him, and it was quite clear to the hybrid that the veteran had indeed been the one to wake him from his slumber. He scowled as he glanced at the man, and then spat at him the only words he could possibly think of for this situation: “What the hell was that for?!”
“Hey, I’m just trying to help you out here, kid!” Orion shot back, but the half-Saiyan persisted in his protestations to the one-eyed man’s ‘assistance.’
“Some help,” he scoffed, leaning back against the side of the bench, “Why don’t you throw a hot dog down my pants next?” Orion’s one eye contorted quizzically, and Juno had to agree. He didn’t fully know what he had meant by the expression either, but it was too late now—he’d said it, so he had to stand behind it.
“You better watch your tone, kid,” the elder scolded, stepping closer and assuming an intimidating stance. For the first time since he could remember, the hybrid found himself fearing the results of this encounter, and decided that it was best to just assume a pacifistic philosophy. “You collapsed out there and I dragged you back here to wake you up again,” Orion told him calmly, “If not for me, you’d probably be dying out there.”
The hybrid bit his lip. “You’re… you’re the guy who caught me,” he realized dejectedly, and the eye-patch-sporting Saiyan nodded.
“You’re welcome,” Orion grimaced, crossing his arms. Juno knew he must’ve thought he was an ungrateful cretin, and if he hadn’t been knocked into his senses, he probably would’ve acted that way. Something told him, though, that this act deserved some merit—after all, he’d probably saved his life.
“Th-thank you,” the hybrid mumbled shamefully. He rubbed his abdomen; the pain was practically diminished. Whatever had happened to knock him unconscious, it had dispelled the pain for now. I suppose I have Gamer to thank for that, Juno smirked inwardly, and then looked up to his physical savior. “I’m feeling a lot better now. The pain’s… gone now.”
Ready to leave Orion with the notion that his charge had recovered, the hybrid slowly began to rise to his feet. He didn’t find pain to meet him, but rather simple exhaustion, and slipped up, falling loosely back onto the bench. He cursed under his breath.
“I… I think walking’s out of the question right now,” he swooned, putting a hand to his forehead. His temperature had dropped immensely, probably due in part to Orion’s interesting medical procedures.
“Juno, was it?” Orion asked.
“Yeah, that’s right,” he replied with a nod and a smile, happy that his name had been remembered more than once today, “You said your name was Orion?”
The veteran nodded, slumping onto the bench next to the black-clothed boy. He let out a heavy sigh, gazing up at the sky, which was perpetually locked in twilight. Juno’s eyes followed his elder’s gaze, intent on hearing his next words. There was something about this guy… something that fascinated him. As the hybrid followed his gaze, his eyes focused on something very strange. It was no disturbance in the sky, nothing about the area around them that puzzled him, but rather something on Orion’s own figure: a circular yellow ring floating idly above his head. A halo.
He’s dead, Juno realized, but he retracted the obvious questions he had, deciding to save them for a later time. He stared at the halo for a moment, knowing full well that was what it was—he’d seen pictures of Sophia during Dante’s Abyss, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t been alive very long. Dead people wore halos loosely above their heads.
They sat there for a moment, and the hybrid took care to avert his eyes when Orion looked down from his gaze toward the heavens… toward where he would have to return to after this game was over, whenever the game was over. Juno would have to admit that he was impressed with Gamer, garnering dead people to play this twisted game with them. He glanced down at his pager, as it was steadily buzzing, but quickly set it aside.
“Since when did a Saiyan warrior perform the duties of a common nurse?” Orion asked rhetorically, muttering it almost to himself. Juno’s attention was, once again, captured by Orion’s casual mention of something seemingly unimportant.
“Saiyan?” the hybrid asked, deciding to start with his living persona and ease into the questions about death, if he got to them at all, “Did I hear you right?”
“Yeah,” Orion replied, puzzled by the boy’s curiosity. Saiyan populated the galaxy; it was intriguing to have so many people be curious about his race in such a short span of time. “What of it?”
“Well, I have Saiyan blood in my veins, you know,” Juno said, a clearly recognizable sense of Saiyan pride reverberating in his voice. Maybe, too, he was just trying to impress this warrior, who looked distinctly more powerful than he. He sighed inwardly; no matter how much he grew, he would still search for the approval of those he thought better than he.
They exchanged a few words about the Saiyans—once learning of Juno’s half-blood status and distinct lack of knowledge about his people, Orion gladly opened up a few cultural doors for him.
“…I happen to be part of the elites,” he said with perhaps even more pride than Juno’s earlier comment had contained, “the strongest and best of the Saiyan race.”
Juno nodded, enthralled. He remembered vaguely the first years of his life, when he’d lived in the castle on Vegeta-sei, back when the first king Vegeta had ruled. His mother had been human, he knew, which meant that his father had been Saiyan, but he consistently put thoughts of the man to the back of his mind, not exactly caring to divulge any information about him; even to himself. He remembered his reptilian nurse, how she had cared for him in his early years because of his mother’s status as head servant at the castle.
He remembered just years later, when he wandered the streets pick-pocketing the rich, with their fancy airs. He remembered becoming a part of the family, and going professional with his criminal tendencies. And he remembered the circumstances that had forced him out. The circumstances that brought him to Mercy, which had brought him to Frost, which had brought him to Earth, which had brought him to Friend or Foe, which had brought him to become the person he was now.
He let himself grow distracted from Orion’s lecture for a moment, distracted by his own pointless thoughts of the life he’d once known. But this—this was the life he had now, and as much as he loved to think it was worse, as much as he loved to constantly consider himself and everyone around him a victim, he knew that that wasn’t true. He had to build this life from scratch, and so far, he thought he’d done a pretty good job of it. After all, building had never been his forté, so to come as far as he had in a year—it was good work.
“Hey, kid, you listening to me?”
“Huh?” the ‘kid’ replied. He normally would’ve been offended by that, but he knew that Orion was old—and, uh, dead—so he probably was a kid to him. So he suffered through the makeshift nickname.
“Thought not,” the one-eyed Saiyan smirked, leaning back over the bench, “Something bothering you, kid? Why’d you fall down, anyway?”
“I’m… not exactly sure,” Juno admitted, “They—the doctors—said I’ve got something, some disease. It’s debilitating me, I can hardly do anything. It had disappeared since I’d gotten here, but suddenly, while I was just sitting there, talking to a friend of mine—” there it was again, he was using that word for Kaden, friend, “—it just popped up, and five minutes later, I was sprawled across the dirt. And that’s where you come in, I guess.” Orion nodded, and Juno felt thankful that the one-eyed Saiyan had waked him. He supposed that he probably would’ve died, or could’ve died, if he’d been left there to rot. Maybe he did have a good bit to thank Orion for. It was at that moment that his pager began to beep.
“What is that incessantly annoying noise?” Orion muttered, irritated. Juno unclipped his pager from his belt and looked at the newest update Mixie had sent out. “What’s it say?” Orion asked, leaning over and glancing at the screen.
“Szar is now the badge leader, with four badges.”
“WHAT?!” Orion yelled, and Juno clutched his ears, dropping the pager on the ground. Orion’s volume was impressive. “I don’t know what the hell a badge is, but we’ve got to get them away from that lizard,” he steamed.
“Well, we could Covet one from him,” Juno said cautiously, “I mean, steal one, you know. For twenty monies.”
“Monies…? Whatever, it doesn’t matter, just do it,” Orion rattled off.
“Why me?” Juno asked, “Why don’t you do it yourself if you’re so concerned?”
“He’ll expect that,” Orion stated as if it was obvious.
“So you’d like to get me killed?” Juno laughed, quickly punching in the Covet and smiling as another badge popped out. He slid it into his pocket. That was two.
“Well, if you die, at least you’ll have someone to keep you company,” Orion smiled, gesturing to the halo. “Let’s hope you don’t, though. From Szar or that sickness of yours.”
“I noticed,” Juno said in reply to Orion’s first comment, nodding at the man’s halo. Then, he moved onto the second part of the man’s statement, suddenly remembering Kaden’s mention of the wish-granting ‘dragon balls.’ Seemed kind of farfetched to the ex-fortune teller, but he supposed it was worth a shot. “The friend that I was talking about,” he continued, “He said something about, like ‘dragon balls’ or something. They’re supposed to grant you a wish or something. I figured if I found these things, I could wish to be well again, since there isn’t much the docs can do for me. Trouble is… I’ve got no idea where to look.”
“Try Namek,” Orion laughed, Saiyan bias obviously filtering through, “Those antennae-heads are always making some mystical crap.”
“But… do you really think it’ll work?” the hybrid asked, more rhetorically than anything, but Orion replied anyhow.
“It’s worth a shot, kid,” the cycloptic soldier said, standing and offering his hand to Juno, “Here, let’s see if you can walk. It’s been a couple of minutes.”
“Alright,” Juno replied, grasping the much larger hand and pushing off the bench as Orion pulled him up. He got to his feet—barely—before stumbling into a shambled, almost zombified walk. Slowly, he got his footing, and stood up straight, turning around and thanking Orion for all his help. The Saiyan nodded.
“It’s nothing, kid,” Orion smiled.
“You know, Orion,” the hybrid said, using his name to address him for the first time, “If you really wanted, I could use the dragon balls to wish you back to life. I’m sure there’s someone out there I can pay to fix me up.”
“You’ve got a pretty certain chance of living if these things exist,” Orion said, sitting back on the bench, “You’re young. I’m old. Save your own damn life.”
They shared a chuckle, and then waved in passing as Juno stumbled away, into the dark depths of the Kill Town carnival. He thought on what Orion said and realized that everything he’d listed was true, and if they were real, which Juno couldn’t see any reason why they wouldn’t be, they were his only sure chance of survival. That meant, more than anything, that he had to get out of this place—he had to get out so that he could go to Namek and find these things, and heal himself. It was all he could do to restrain the newfound hope and optimism that was bubbling up inside him.