Day Three: Morning

[Burter]

Day Three
6 AM - Noon

"We are getting ever closer to the finale and those who are left are the top tier candidates for the victory! Keep moving, keep hunting and it could be you featured in the final fight! Here is who has fallen:

#02 Android 17
#29 Petunia

Remember, even though this is a competition, there are no real losers! Yes, somebody will come out with the win, but nobody can say they lost if you walk out of this with your head held high! This is more then a competition! Don't take it too seriously!

I'm not adding any danger zones, but I will start adding more in the next update. Also featured will be a special Easter Egg: A dragonball! That's right, the first of seven in a set, said to grand the collector of all them a wish!

Good luck!"

[Zangya]

The wilderness had come fast. Her injuries still ached her, but something inside her felt as if they had only given her strength. Her mind and body were both extremely fit, and something about them had made her head clear, and had given her the motivation to move on again, becoming a woman with a mission.

The brush did not disturb her during her aggressive walk through the woods, she merely pushed branches out of the way as they came into her view; this act was nonchalant, and she felt no pain as her destroyed arm hung by her side, watching unrecognized as the free, non-injured one pushed the branches past with no effort. Her shot-up leg was drug behind, though it did not hinder her; the challenge of carrying it along with her was nothing compared to the challenges she had faced so recently.

During this time of silent walk, she had time to ponder, to reminisce… perhaps even remember things she’d wanted to forget. She remembered the night that she and Gokua had met, and the events that followed, and she could nearly feel his hands holding hers once more, his lips caressing hers once more—but that feeling suddenly went away, and she was met with the cold memory of his death.

She had felt it, too. A cold spike burst through his neck, and she reached for her décolletage at that very moment, as well. Death had befallen her beloved, and she felt unable to restrain her tears.

But that had been long ago. His spirit had visited her, and in his time of accompaniment, he had given her the strength to move on from his demise, and he had given her the strength to continue on in this competition. Her demise felt far off now, farther off than his had been from his experience with danger, at least; could it be that she was stronger than he was? If it was true, then it was only because he had donated his strength to her.

Then, Karl Jak’s rather not amusing voice intruded upon her thoughts.

--------------------------------------------

Top tier candidates for the victory. Those had been the first words out of Karl’s mouth that Zangya had liked to hear. She—the weakling who’d not lasted one day last year, the pathetic little candidate who’s been motivated in most of her strategy by fear—could be the winner?

It didn’t seem real. It seemed like a dream.

Android 17—wait, she hadn’t heard that right. The raven-haired android who had basically wiped the floor with her earlier in the competition was DEAD? The competition had just gotten a lot easier. And then there was the other one, Petunia. Only three women remained in the competition now.

Zangya, Android Eighteen, and Violet.

Zangya was determined to be the last woman standing—she was in it to win it.

[Bardock]

Time was up. The inner alarm clock rang, and Bardock was woken from the dredges of sleep. He opened his eyes slowly, but quickly shut them, an unpleasant pulsing tearing through his brain. Groggily, he tried to release the hand that was clutched around his torso, only to find that his fingers grasped empty material. Her hand was no longer there. Squirming a little, the fighter could still feel her body next to his, except that she wasn’t pressed as close as he remembered she’d been. Bar pushed the blanket off and slid into a seating position, groaning and palming his forehead, lacing his fingers through his black spiky hair. His head was killing him, and he couldn’t figure out why. Shrugging the sleep from his stiff frame, the fighter looked over his shoulder. Violet was lying there, wide-awake. His brow twitched momentarily—she was looking at him…sort of funny. Was there something he was missing?

Regardless, he stood up and walked outside. He had to take a major leak. Priorities needed to be followed. By the time he went back inside, Violet was moving around, packing up their gear.

“Thought you were going to sleep forever,” she teased, breaking the silence.

Bardock slowly shook his head, not exactly a good idea right now. “I’m fine. We gotta get moving here pretty quick. Are you good to go?”

She nodded in affirmation. The human certainly looked revitalized, but no amount of sleep was going to make those nasty burns go away. He moved to his duffel, pulling out the kit, taking one last glance at his busted hand. Making up his mind, the brawler took it over to his partner.

“You need to take care of those first,” he pointed out, moving to begin cleaning the wounds. As his fingers touched her skin, she leaned back and away, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

“I can do it,” she insisted.

Bardock stopped for a moment, his features expressionless. “Okay,” he shrugged. He really didn’t have time to debate over it; he was antsy to get out of there already. Besides, the fighter figured that it probably had something to do with how he’d last handled her injuries. Violet took the medical supplies and stuffed them in her bag.

“Later,” the woman said. “We can go.”

The duo exited the hunting lodge just as the announcement for the previous day’s kills was going off. When the android’s name was called, Bardock stiffened. Usually when he killed someone’s friend there was serious backlash involved, often resulting in much physical retaliation. To say he was surprised there had been none so far was a bit of an understatement. It was nothing personal to him, but everyone else always seemed to take it that way. Instead of an attempt to beat him to a bloody pulp, they had shared a couch together. Not exactly the way things had ever panned out before. The bronze bruiser wondered if maybe it was just going to be a delayed reaction.

Nevertheless, the two took off into a sprint, Bardock noticeably unable to maintain the breakneck speeds he was usually capable of. Sleep had brought back a portion of his former power, just not enough of it, and he didn’t want to push himself if he didn’t have to. Whatever was left had to be saved in case a fight broke out. And man what a fight that last one had been. The next one was going to have to be incredible to top it.

Suddenly, Bardock’s stomach audibly rumbled. Violet laughed.

“That has to be murder for you,” she chuckled.

Bardock snorted.

“We’ll stop to eat,” Violet conceded.

As soon as she spoke the words, the saiya-jin broke off and headed off in another direction. Startled, Violet did a double take and followed. He disappeared in a large area of brush, and her feet skidded to a halt as she heard loud war cries that were silenced and followed by a sickly snapping sound. Somewhat panicked, Violet cleared the distance and peered over to where her saiya-jin companion had vanished. Her eyes widened and a grin cracked across her face as she saw him hoist a deer with one arm over his shoulder, looking rather pleased with himself.

Not long after, the two were picking their teeth. It had been a little gamy, but it was better than nothing. Although their conversation proceeded as normal, the male couldn’t help but feel like something was…off…

He couldn’t quite place his finger on it. Something was amiss, and he didn’t want anything amiss. There were plenty of distractions enough already; this was just another straw to the heap. Confrontation was the last thing either of them needed, so the fighter was going to let this one slide. The competition was coming down to the wire, and Bardock didn’t want to miss the ending. As fun as his previous encounters had been, the ending was the all-time high he was working for. There was no greater battle than the all-out royale.

Bardock cleaned his axe and knives, swiftly carving out another notch in the handle. He whisked out his map, and traced a path along the coordinates with his finger.

“This is where we’re going,” the roughneck demonstrated. His useless hand shook as it held up the paper. He was fine with losing an eye, or an ear, and he was even fine with getting his head bashed in. The worst thing was having his fists taken away from him. But there was no point lamenting. The bat had crushed it, and it wasn’t going to be the same again in this tournament. “Watch your six.”

Violet nodded. Bar replaced his items, and stood. He was tempted to say something, but thought the better of it as they sped off into the morning light.

[Reijin]

Continued from: http://www.cdbzrpg.com/forum/showpost.ph...stcount=16

Sigh…

Reijin ignored the noise and continued pushing his way through the wet leaves. He had been hunting for hours now and he had seen broken twigs and other signs that someone had been here practically moments before. And yet the rain was doing its best to conceal both their smell and their footprints in one cackling laugh.

Sigh…

Ah yes, the rain… It had begun once more as soon as they left the sands, although this time not nearly as thick. If Reijin had not been so hellbent on drawing blood and getting off this island with some form of medal or the host’s heart, then he’d possibly have taken the time to enjoy the cool drops. Jun’ai might have enjoyed it as well, under normal circumstances, but these were very well not normal circumstances.

Sigh…

He couldn’t take it once more. This was probably the 14th sigh on an almost punctuated count since they had begun their journey, and it was driving him crazy. “Would you shut the hell up!” he growled menacingly, careful to not speak too loudly to avoid drawing attention to himself.

I’m sorry, would you prefer that I sit back and let you continue your stomping through the forest in private? Her tone was reeking of sarcasm, but Reijin took the bite regardless.

“Yes! Yes, actually, I would.”

I haven’t heard anyone else complain. So it sounds like a personal problem to me, she mused.

“No one else comp-” he got out before realizing the depth of the comment. “Woman, I don’t get it. You come to me, knowing exactly what type of person I am, the man who did everything he could to kill your father and failed, and then you want me to do what exactly? Put my life on hold and go steal from the rich and give to the poor like some valiant super hero?” The comment was in no way intended to evoke anyone in particular, but Reijin found himself spitting at the image that appeared before him regardless.

Jun’ai had her own opinion, however, and had no problem throwing her argument on the table. After all, arguing was a better use of her time than sitting inside brooding. If you… If I… Ugh, I would love to take this outside… Her words were intended mostly to vent, and received nothing more than an angry release of air from him. You act like you’ve never done anything without selfish intentions, and yet I’ve seen your past. At that planet just before coming here, you helped them take down that brute that was plowing his way around in there.

He shook his head at the comment. “No, he attacked me. I fucked him up as a result. That’s just how it goes. Kill or be killed.”

Who are you trying to convince? she stressed at him. You sound more interested in justifying your actions to yourself than to me. I don’t even know you, and I really could care less at this point about you. As far as I’m concerned, you are a worthless waste of vat discarded flesh, and nothing is wasted by them. But here you are trying to convince yourself that you are some brooding lone wolf that only cares about he who wipes your ass when that’s not true either. I’ve seen your memories. I know what you accomplished on that asteroid Kala. I know what you have thought within your head during some of the most ruthless moments in your life. I know how you felt when Raditzu, the man you refuse to admin you despise as some rival, slaughtered an entire city and ripped the unborn child from a mother’s womb before killing here when he lost control of his ascendant super saiyan abilities…

“You are going to far,” he warned her once more, focusing quite strongly on his left foot moving ahead of his right foot.

If that man… If that guy can redeem himself and still win one of these tournaments, then so can you.

Reijin stopped, reaching into his bag to pull out the final crab leg he’d saved. “I wouldn’t exactly say he redeemed himself to anyone. I’m sorry, but other than a genetically uncaring changeling, not one person that he will ever have to answer to was involved. We fought the dragon. We earned the wish from this superior being at the cost of Raditzu slaughtering an entire city. We did it all for our own little world.”

Jun’ai fell silent, unable to find an appropriate response to his words.

[Reijin]

Continued from: http://www.cdbzrpg.com/forum/showpost.ph...ostcount=4

He stared out into the trees for a moment before he began talking in monologue, no longer even really paying attention to her feelings on the matter. “You think that when I watched him I was bothered by the acts that he committed? I’ve been in his shoes and I’ve done the deeds. I’ve paid my dues and I’ve lived with my sins. He’s running around like some god damn super hero, always flashing around how cool he thinks he is to everyone… The man doesn’t act for anyone other than himself. You call me selfish? That’s what the world wants. This guy thinks of no one but himself in every action that he does. If he helps anyone, its to bring himself more attention or more glory.’

“You accused me of wanting to get recognition for my actions? I don’t even know anymore. I’ve committed atrocities for this universe and I’ve assisted some of the most heinous acts to help the world become a better place. Raditzu is seen as this Herculean wonder while I am discarded flesh, as you mentioned yourself. He commits all his acts, and he doesn’t have to answer to any of it. His entire take on the situation was that we all were supposed to know who of the three of us did the most to take down that dragon. He didn’t even acknowledge what he’d done, because in his eyes it was just him winning yet another competition for an award.”

He threw the empty crab leg to the ground and pulled a bottle of water out from his pack, closing it swiftly before throwing it back over his shoulder. “We returned and everyone cheered him on a job well done, and they had no idea just how well done it was. Why were we wishing for a planet? We wanted it so that we could have our own little world to call ours and go traipsing around without a care. I at least tried to name it New Vejita in honor of our people, but it didn’t happen. In the end, I was approached by some galactic company requesting to use the planet as a gift to every world. I signed it over without really a problem so that I could see some change in this world so that people like me don’t have to be born.” He stopped a moment so that he could twist off the cap to the bottle. “He pushed in and gave it to them only after they agreed to interview the man who has slain the dragon. Of course, he made sure he took credit there.”

Taking a swig of the water, he placed his palm onto a tree, trying to sense any warmth he could from the rooted creature. If there was anyone near by, they couldn’t have hidden too many alerts to their presence. “So we have this enormous planet that somehow he has all the credit for, so instead of being a gift to the people, he uses it like his own private mansion to try to find another way to take center stage in the world’s eye. At least the development company isn’t stupid,” he trailed off in disgust.

Jun’ai took the moment’s pause to quietly voice a comment, not really minding at the moment if he actually responded to it. And you are saying that you aren’t interested in credit for any of this?

He shook his head at the notion. “No, I don’t really think so. I wouldn’t be opposed to no longer being treated like a shit stain on the face of the universe, but I don’t want people beating down my door to take my photograph either.”

Then why does it matter? He’s getting what he wants and you are getting what you want, to be left alone.

“It doesn’t work that way. Saiyans are nothing but violence. We are a ruthless race that seems genetically created to destroy other worlds and sell them for profit. When I was a teenager, I was sent to destroy a very peaceful planet. I decided that it’d be in my best interest to train under a strong teacher there first. I realized what was necessary while I was there. I killed my teacher shortly after learning her greatest technique and then visited Earth. It was there that I tried to kill your father, but it was in the interest of using the power of the Potarra Earrings to bring peace to my home world. I wanted to finally stop all the damned civil wars that kept breaking out and show that we could exist in a civilized world. We will always have the blood of warriors, but that doesn’t mean we have to lash out at everything that gives us the slightest glance.”

His feet tread slowly across the wooded land and he had begun to look to the ground for more clues to his search. “While he lives his life carefree and loved by the world, giving nothing substantial while leeching off of its successes, there are warrior’s like me all over that are giving their last breaths to bring about change to this war torn universe. You wouldn’t think that those that are the biggest weapons were the ones that wanted to see this change, would you? I have traveled to Arlia on mercenary missions just to earn enough to pay for my living expenses and have been informed that I was simply a tool for fighting in a struggle of which I had no allegiance, and I could say nothing to that. The world is better off without people like me.”

His words lingered a moment before he narrowed them at a shadow in the distance. “But to bring about such a world, people like me are a necessity.” The shadow moved a bit, and Reijin pulled his fork close. Something was soon to die.

[Burter]

Face to Face

Minoshia, Reijin

From his spot at the bottom of one of the hills, Reijin could clearly see the Konat coming. It was hard not to hear the stumbling and mumbling of the crazed madman as he continued on in a blind rage. Thinking quick, the saiyan moved back behind a series of trees to watch, gripping his pitchfork as he prepared to take the offensive. If he acted at just the right time, he could easily end this fight before it began.

Minoshia had lost it, once again, the horrors of the Abyss. His biggest enemy had become his best friend, and now that man was dead with the latest update. He had lost his sight, which is what inevitably caused his breakdown. But regardless of the level of sanity he carried, Minoshia was always determined to do one thing and one thing only: Kill to win. This turn of events did nothing but urge him towards his victory.

He only heard the shuffling of feet for a brief moment, but that was enough for him to grip his baseball bat and spin around towards the sound. Reijin had lept in the air from his hiding spot, holding his pitchfork up and spinning it so he could easily stab the Konat and put him down before things escalated.

But there was nothing about Minoshia that said "easy kill."

With the lack of sight, Minoshia could focus more carefully on his hearing, which told him that the pitchfork was coming from the left. He quickly ducked and smashed his elbow up into the foe, hearing the grunt and then the crack of the jaw as he sent the man to the ground. "Who's that?!" He growled, swinging his bat aimlessly.

"Why are you bothering?" Reijin asked, starting to move back to his feet and stretch his hurt arm. "You're blind. You're burned. This is going to be your death, so why prolong it?"

It had been a long time since he had heard the voice, but there was no mistaking Reijin, who had a certain unique tone to his speech. "If you think I'm helpless, you're the one who's blind!"

Minoshia lept forward, easily tracing where Reijin was by the sound of his voice. It was difficult to move with the uneven surface of the hill, but he managed to stay up and swing the bat, slamming it into Reijin's palm. Knowing the saiyan had some form of blade, the Konat quickly ducked just in time and smashed his foot into his knee. Reijin grunted, falling down just in time to take a punch to the nose.

"Would you give up if you were me!?" Minoshia was shouting, lost in the idea he had beaten Reijin. He brought the baseball bat down, connecting on the saiyan leg and breaking the kneecap, sending bone breaking through the skin. "Would you give up?! No! I am the Dark Prince! I am Minoshia! I will never, ever turn around and walk away from my destiny!"

Reijin was dumbfounded as to how the fight turned around on him, thinking he had severely underestimated the Konat. The tanned warrior was using his bat blindly, no real pattern coming down except that the pain was harsh each time it struck his skin. With a bloodied face, broken leg and a bruised arm, Reijin had no choice but to end it quick, thrusting his pitchfork up and penetrating Minoshia's torso.

"When this is all over," Reijin said as Minoshia gasped, losing his breath thanks to the three prongs in his chest, "People aren't going to remember you for dying here today. They're going to remember the warrior. That's all you can ask for."

With one twitch of a wrist, Minoshia winced, his heart being ripped by the center prong of the pitchfork. He fell to the left, landing on the ground hard. He still couldn't see, but he was able to hear Reijin breaking deep, taking a few moments before getting up.

So, this was it. He had lost again. But had he really? Sure, Minoshia didn't walk away with the victory, but he had made an impact in the game. People feared the very though of fighting him, and he had gone toe to toe with Reijin, putting him down with an injury. Once again, he was allowed in the Abyss and he whetted his appetite for murder...it was enough to last him.

Until the next year.

#10 Minoshia DEAD

12 Remain

Reijin has a broken leg. Major injury

He can take the baseball bat

[Zangya]

The pleasurable burn of the wine as it slipped down her throat felt as if it would heal all of her wounds. Zangya, the Ader whose beautiful body, over the course of this competition, had become bruised, bloody, and broken, sat idly in the middle of an orchard, resting on a crate of wine she had found. The drink had aged, but as wine always does, it only tasted better as a veteran of life than as a newborn gratification.

The scene that surrounded her was serene; this orchard, placed strategically in the middle of a forest, was filled with freshly grown grape vines, and the tiny violet and emerald colored orbs hung off of their vines proudly, having just turned ripe enough to be picked. They taunted Zangya with their undisturbed appearance, seeming like one of the few things that had remained in a perfect state of tranquility throughout the carnage that constantly surrounded them.

She drank the intoxicating potion straight from the glass bottle it had been poured into, not caring enough to find some other way. It seemed overdramatic, perhaps, but Zangya did not care—she did not have the focus to find something else, and so, she drank it savagely like she had always done, and when the bottle had been fully emptied, she sat the hourglass figure down next to her and reached into the crate, hoping to find another blessing of bliss like the previous bottle had given her. She could find no more bottles, though; the one she had emptied so quickly had been the last that could be found in the orchard.

She struggled up, and stood with the empty wine bottle in her hands. She took it along with her through the forest, exiting the orchard briefly as she returned to the banks of a river she had found such a short time ago. She sat down next to the river’s shore, and tossed in the empty glass shell, letting it land gracefully in the raging river. The vase was carried down the river roughly, and Zangya watched as it soon disappeared from sight.

She took her shoes off and sat them on the ground beside her, then dipping her now bare toes into the river’s coarse waves. The water felt cool, and crystalline; quite the opposite of the burning hot weather that accompanied the sun as it rose into the sky this quaint morning. Her shoes were quickly joined by other apparel, and the Ader’s wounds suddenly felt the coolness of the water as it cleaned her soul.

Once her bathing expedition was finished, she put on her clothes once more and traveled back to the orchard, getting her survival bag and her collection of ninja stars. She squeezed just a bit of the grape juice from the grapes into her once empty vial of poison, and put the cork back on it. She would have something else to drink besides water—it was good for her, yes, but it was rather boring drink. The girl took her feet out of the place, and began to follow the raging river. She walked along its shores for miles, traveling endlessly, as it seemed; her path never found an ending. The forest canopy continued to shield her from sunlight as it hadn’t in the orchard (which had been placed in a clearing, of course) and the spray of the river often found its way to her as well.

As she walked, her eyes closed, and she entered a state of perpetual meditation. Dante had been tamed—at least, to her, it had—and she was its mistress. It was caring for her, soothing her… it was protecting her.

[Android-18]

“Aaaaaahhhhhahaha!” her squealing and laughing filled the once dead house. Candles lit what had once been ghostly halls, and silent rooms. She had taken the chance to bring life into the gloomy house, and now it was full of her giggles and happy screams. She padded down the top floor’s halls, dodging around a small desk and diving into one of the musky rooms. “No, no, no!” she held up her hands as the shadow of her pursuer loomed upon her, ready to pounce. She was off in a roll, falling on all fours and bounding aside as he leapt at her. She jumped back into the hall and peeled off toward the stairs. Her nude body slid down the banister as if she were an adolescent. “Sucker!” she called and slid into the kitchen.

The moonlight filtered in through grimy windows, and she paused to look at it. It really was beautiful, and it always seemed to be shedding its light upon her in precious moments. She looked behind her and drew in a sharp breath, he was there. “Gotcha now, no where to run to.” He said, a wicked grin plastered upon his face. He held his hands out, ready to grab his reward. She backed herself against the back door; it was cold against her back.

“I can’t take anymore!” she tried the knob, but the door would not give. “Please, don’t.” she begged, but it was too late. His fingers touched her soft delicate skin, striking the nerves with such precision that they were set aflame with motion. The tickling was torture, which let out gasping laughter rather than horrified screams. He had her at his whim, falling to the floor, kicking and squirming. She grabbed a hank of his hair, tugging in an attempt to make him stop.

“Not the hair!” He cried, and she laughed as she tugged again and he grabbed at her wrists. The floor became their playground, as they tussled in their lovers quarrel. He managed to hold her down in triumph, and she stuck out her tongue. Unless he let her go he could not tickle her, she was in the clear! Or so she thought. It wasn’t long before she felt the prickling sensation upon her side as a furry appendage assaulted her with deft agility. She shrieked with much disdain and wiggled against his body, little did she know, it was just as torturous for him. If only he were as nude as she! This had to do.

There was little she could do to get away, so she summed up her courage and raised her head toward his neck. He yelped at the attack, letting go of her long enough for her to slip out of his grasp. He remained on hands and knees, touching his neck. She had not bit him hard, but hard enough to make him react. She laughed vailiantly before reaching in with her hands and grabbing hold of the Saiya-Jin’s tail. He froze like ice, every hair on his body seemed to stand on end and he shook ever so slightly.

“Just where you should be, on all fours!” she laughed and tugged lightly on his tail. He cringed, and gritted his teeth. “What, no smart retort? Aw, poor Raditzu, cat got your tail?” she giggled and released him, which made him fall to his chest, sweat had begun to bead upon his brow.

“I was hoping you had forgotten about that, babe,” he said between breaths. It was his weak spot; it was any Saiya-Jin’s weak spot. She moved close to him, sitting down and reaching for his tail. He grew ridged, and she ever so carefully stroked his tail. It twitched to one side, as if it were alive. “Careful, it’s…sensitive.” He said, looking at her from the ground. He rested his head on his arms, letting her have her way with him.

“It’s like a cat’s tail.” She giggled and continued to caress it. Did he like it, she wondered? He always kept it wrapped around his waist, and out of sight. She actually kind of liked it. It made him look unique, what with his outrageous hair and what not. “I wish I had a tail,” she said idly, the tail flicked at her playfully.

“It’s nice, and all, but it gets in the way.” He replied in a muffled tone, his head buried against his arms. “Maybe we can gather the dragon balls and wish you a tail, wouldn’t that be interesting?” he didn’t see it, but her eyes lit up.

“Oh? Would you!?” she explained gleefully. “We would look so cute together, don’t you think?” he was up in moments, thinking of someway to retract what he had said. He certainly didn’t want to look cute. She could look as cute as she wanted, but he had appearances to keep up.

“Babe, I think we should leave that idea for later…along with other things.” He stood up and towered over her, and before she knew it she was being swooped upward in his arms. “I think you've gained weig-”

A graceful hand landed upon his cheek, creating an awful smacking sound, and he regretted his words. “I mean, you’re awfully light today! New diet?” he chuckled and she looked at him smugly. “You’re cute when you act like that.” He carried her off toward the bedroom. “We’ll have to talk about that attitude, too.” Another smacking noise echoed down the stairs as their forms disappeared.

[Kirano]

The more time went by, the surer Kirano was of Seventeen’s demise. His intuitions had never failed him, so why would they fail him now? He envied Aero. At least he had the chance to give Celipa a proper goodbye. He would have liked to do the same for Seveteen, out of honour. Why did things not turn out the way he wanted?

Wanting whatever I desire to be granted…I guess that’s just me being a spoilt brat, he thought.

As a child he always wanted everything, the best toys, the best candy, but as he got older he began to slowly realize that you cannot always get what you want, but as a stubborn boy the truth did not stop him from pursuing his desires. He was forced to learn reality the hard way.

Only God knew where Seventeen’s body was lying on the island, IF his body was still around. There were many ways to die therefore it was hard to predict his cause of death. Kirano felt uncomfortable even thinking about the possibilities.

“Aaah,” he moaned in discomfort, as he removed his back from the tree he had slept against. He had just about enough of sleeping rough. His body had not been the same since the first time he slept on concrete at the start of the tournament. Continuing his pattern of rough sleeping was not going to improve the condition of his aching bones.

The young man’s companion Aero was already awake, sat on Dante’s soil, observing his shotgun wound. The bloodstained cloth he had used to tie around the wound lay next to his wounded thigh. Kirano was no doctor but he was aware wounds needed air, which was probably Aero’s intention. “You know,” said Kirano gazing at allies wound, which had turned yellow and green, including the area around the exposed flesh, “you didn’t have to give me that senzu bean. I could have managed without it.”

“No sweat. I didn’t need it at the time, you did.” Neither had anything to say after that, Aero went back to attending his wound, while Kirano gazed blankly into thin air until the cyan haired man spoke again. “Too bad Seventeen’s dead, I-”

“Heh, I knew it,” Kirano replied, cutting the other human off. It was unfortunate that Karl kept the names of killers confidential, unlike the names of victims. It would have satisfied him to know the name(s) of his friend’s killer(s), so that he could avenge Seventeen, but that was life, never always fear.

You can’t always get what you want.

“If only though…”

“If only what?” wondered Aero.

If only Kirano had been with Seventeen throughout DA, he may still be alive and the two would be verging towards the finale of the competition. “Nevermind,” he sighed. There was no use blaiming himself, crying over spoilt milk. No doubt Seventeen would be rooting for him to win now, so Kirano did not intend to disappoint him.

[Violet]

This sucked, she thought as they dredged across the open fields of sun-scorched grasses. Their canter had slowed due to the nourishment they had taken from Bardock’s kill, and it was quickly catching up to the blister ridden female. As she peered over at her partner, she couldn’t help but notice that something was wrong with him; although he looked fine on the outside, his eyes held something unspoken behind them.

Tempted to ask, but unwilling to bring herself to it, she simply fell back into stride with him once more as they marched onward. Guess if he wanted her to know, he’d tell her; she didn’t think he’d willingly just spill whatever was troubling him.

And so, the pair traveled in silence into the murky depths of the forest once more. She had a funny feeling they’d passed this exact spot at least three times on their journey around the island. Wasn’t that the same hole they’d dug a firepit into a few days ago?

“So…” she began in a subtle way to break the monotony. “How long do you think it’d take you to get back to full power?”

He shrugged. “Couple days, maybe.”

“That means we’re vulnerable until you’re back at a hundred percent, then.” Sighing as she adjusted the canvas straps over her burns, Violet looked over at her companion, noting the tightening around his eyes. He was in pain, and from the way his hand was swollen, it was a pretty safe bet that that pain was seriously distracting. They didn’t need distractions, and she hated seeing him like this. “Let’s stop here for a second, Bar. I’m going to use my medpack to heal these burns. If we get attacked, I won’t be able to last long, and I am going to have to be the one to step up to the plate while you’re weakened.”

“I’m not weak!” he snapped passionately.

Dropping her bag onto a pile of rotting leaves, she stared skeptically at him. “I didn’t say you were weak. I said you were weakened. There’s a huge difference.” Falling to her haunches, she rifled through the bag until she produced the small package he’d given her back at the shack. Setting it to the side, she also pulled out the small pot and ceramic mugs she’d pilfered from their shelter, and set them aside. The last thing she took out was three fresh bottles of water, and laying them neatly beside the rest of the items, she stood and wiped the dirt from her hands. “Stay here, I’m going to go find some stuff so we can splint your hand.”

“It’s nothing, Vi, don’t worry about me.” He objected, but the female simply ignored him and continued about her way. It took all of ten minutes for her to return, her bruised and blistered arms heavy with plants and other items she’d found growing nearby. “What’s all that?”

“Angelica, some willow bark, um, a few sticks, and some lemon grass. Amazing how abundant good herbs are around here.” She smiled as she laid her findings down beside the rest of her supplies and continued back into the forest, returning once again with several decent sized logs. “The tea I’m going to make you is one that I learned to make when I was training in the forest back on Earth. It helped ease the pain when I got injured.”

“Tea?” he questioned, a slight lilt of skepticism in his voice. “Tea won’t heal my hand. It’s useless to even try.”

Brows furrowing, she gazed over at her companion while her hands busied themselves with stacking the logs. “I never said that it’d heal it, I said it’d take the pain away.”

“Why do you care?” he asked, still unconvinced of her unconventional methods.

Rising to her full height, she laughed. “I care because you’re my partner, and my survival is directly affected by you. If you’re hurt, like how you are now, you might as well just put that axe to my head now.” She left silent the fact that it wasn’t just because he was her partner. She genuinely didn’t want him to be in pain because it hurt her just seeing him like this. It wasn’t right.

Smirking, Bardock lowered himself to the ground, leaning his back against a massive Oak tree. Resting his good hand on the kneecap of one leg, he chuckled. “I’ve been tempted to do that before, but, as it is, you have nothing to worry about. I may not be the brightest Saiyan of the pack, but I do understand the benefits of having you around.”

Nodding, Violet sat down to her herbs and began her mixing, grinding and combining of ingredients. A few minutes had resulted in two mugs of unfinished tea, and a pot of water boiling over a small fire. Taking the bubbling water from over the heat, she poured the contents into the two cups of the herbal mixture, handing one to Bardock, and setting the other to the side for herself.

Taking a seat in front of the muscular Saiyan, she scooted in close enough to where he sat just inside the V of her legs, much to his further discomfort. She laid the twigs to the side and proceeded to rip strips of fabric from her shirt. Taking his hand gently in hers, she surveyed the damage done to his shattered appendage, noting the disfigurement of the bone structure beneath the purple tinged skin. Her fingers prodded at different areas, feeling out where her splint would best be suited. His entire hand would have to be bandaged, she deduced, for that bat hadn’t just merely broken a few bones, it crushed the entire thing. Her eyes lifted desolately to his face, taking heed of the pain that lit his beautifully shaded eyes. Bringing the battered palm to her lips, she kissed the sensitive flesh delicately, cradling it within her palm.

[Violet]

“This is going to hurt, so you might want to take a few swigs of your tea before I begin;” she instructed softly. Following her advice, he downed half the cup, his face immediately scrunching into an unpleasant frown.

“That stuff is disgusting!” he admonished.

“The lemongrass made it a little more palatable, though;” she murmured. Her face was a mask of seriousness as she took the hand once more in hers and aligned the twigs at various points along his wrist and back hand. It didn’t appear that her meager supplies were going to suffice, she needed something stronger, yet flexible. The underwires in her bra, of course! “Close your eyes real quick.”

He quirked a bushy brow at her, wondering what other torture she had in mind. “Why?”

“Because, I need to get the metal in my uh, just do it, ok? Trust me. And turn your head, if at all possible. I don’t need you sneaking a peek at me while I do this.”

Complying, the Saiyan closed his eyes and turned his neck while she quickly removed her shirt and bra, then replaced the tattered fabric just before curiosity made him open his eyes. “I told you no peeking!” she scolded.

“Hmph.”

“Now, hold still.” Utilizing the sharp end of one of the metallic underwires, she poked it through the thick cotton, her fingers doing the rest of the work as she pulled it free from its fabric prison. Doing the same to the other cup, she laid the remnants of her bra to the side and affixed the metal across the twigs already placed about his wrist. Wrapping the crude splint together with the strips of her shirt, she tied it off and admired her work. “It’s not much, but it should help keep it in place and protected from accidentally being hit.”

Bardock raised his wrapped hand to his face, eyes roving over the work. It wasn’t bad, considering the crude ingredients that were used to make it. His hand did feel somewhat better.

“What, no thanks? Jeez, Bar, how appreciative of you. I just destroyed a $90 bra all in the name of making you feel better.” She frowned.

“Your efforts won’t go unappreciated, Vi, so quit bitching.”

She laughed loudly as she dragged the medkit over into their little circle, cracking the cardboard top open to reveal the contents inside. “Well, I suppose you can thank me by rubbing this crap on my back.” She said, shoving a tube of cream at him. Taking it gingerly in his good hand, he brought the tube to eye level, observing the label. Scooting around, she lifted the back of her shirt and ushered him on. “Please? I can’t reach back there and it hurts like hell.”

After all was said and done, and the medkit had been used, the duo finished their drink, the medicinal liquid soon dulling the pain in their respective injured areas. They rested for a little while longer, then packed up their belongings and left.

[Bardock]

A warrior does not show pain. A warrior does not show weakness.

Those mantras had been drilled into him since birth. Bardock was a warrior. He would not show pain. He would not show weakness. Somehow…somehow Violet could just pick up on it. That irked him. Not only that, but she was insistent on interfering. Turning his bad wrist over, however, Bardock couldn’t really argue with the results. He still couldn’t bend his fingers, and he wasn’t going to be able to mash anyone’s face in with it, but the aching throb had subsided. The brawler could hardly stomach—a statement in itself—the taste of that tea. It was somewhat reminiscent of dirt and wood mixed together. Whatever was in it was working, so the pay-out was even. He’d been sorely tempted to just shove her off, because he hadn’t asked for her help, except she’d used his own logic against him: the partnership was only as strong as its weakest link. Bardock could hardly call himself a weak link, yet her words had simply elicited a smirk from him and he complied.

They ducked and weaved through the trees, the saiya-jin taking up the rear. With every passing hour, he was feeling more and more rejuvenated. Not long now before he was able to really cut loose again, and he looked forward to cracking a few more skulls before it came down to the wire. As his eyes passed from one side of the horizon to the other, they would eventually land upon the human in front of him and hover longer than they should have. Bardock wondered if she even thought about Seventeen’s death at all. She certainly didn’t show it. Maybe he was the only one who’d considered the repercussions, ironically enough. Her form was still burned and bruised, which was going to limit her fighting capability. Her back alone, which had probably received the brunt of the blast, had been horribly charred. A back that he had felt every curve, every contour of…

Bardock squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to banish the thought. He chose to do so during very bad timing. A branch loomed up from out of nowhere and smacked him square across the nose. The wooden bough snapped and broke off, and his head jerked back for a moment at the impact, body still moving forward. Violet looked over her shoulder, curiosity and alert flashing in her eyes.

“A tree was in my way,” he explained gruffly, frowning.

She tried to hide a smile as she turned to face front again.

When they’d reached the final coordinates of their destination, they stopped. All of this moving around seemed so irritating. They were like rats running around in a maze, unaware of what lurked behind each wall, scampering this way and that just to survive. Bardock’s hearing aid picked up an interesting noise in the distance. He jerked the earless side of his face towards the sound his actual ear hadn’t been able to pick up. The roughneck smiled as he recognized what it was. He dropped his gear and began to walk off. Violet looked at him curiously, wondering what he was up to.

The saiya-jin strode along a beaten uphill path, pushing past a wall of foliage, and his smile turned into a full-on grin when he discovered what he’d been looking for: a small waterfall. It fell along a slick vertical of bedrock, feeding into a beautiful punchbowl pool. One of the few things Bardock loved in the universe was water. It was calming, and was able to keep him grounded when no physical outlet was available. Upon approaching the bank of the pool, the saiya-jin kicked off his boots and fumbled with his armor and shirt. Things were a lot more difficult when you only had one hand, and although the pain was dulled, it probably wasn’t a good idea to be using it for any sort of task. The pants were a little easier. Bardock turned around and dove in back-first in nothing but his boxers. He emerged with a gasp. The water was freezing. Keeping his bad arm cradled against his chest, he kicked himself along to the center of the pool and towards the falls, using his tail as a little furry rudder.

Fortunately, there was a shelf of rock that sat underneath the tumbling liquid, and Bardock pulled himself out with his free arm and sat on the edge. The ice-cold water cascaded around his shoulders and over his head, numbing his body. He bowed his head against the massaging flow, letting his muscles deaden. There was no better way to spend the time as he waited for the last of his full energy to return. The fighter went so far inside the numbness that he didn’t even hear the angry shouts of the human as she discovered what he’d snuck off to do.

“You’re going to ruin that splint, you dummy!” she hollered.

Only one thing passed through his mind.

A warrior does not show pain. A warrior does not show weakness.