IanDonyer
Time to kick ass? Definitely.
- 179
- Posts
- 13
- Years
- Remember? Yeah, I live at that place! At the time,
- Seen Jan 19, 2015
Author's Note: Hey-yo! Ian here. May remember this fic, or may not, but... decided I'd do a re-do of it, and with a whole new thread!... and plotline. *slow nod* Thus warranting the new thread. Hope you guys enjoy.
Also, don't be surprised if I throw canon out the window on some bits here. Because this is sort of AU.
Prologue
The weather conditions on Planet Vegeta were, needless to say, not so optimal for those who couldn't, A, stand torrential rainfall for too long (examples being the bottom-end low classes who were still on the planet, and the few Tuffles left), or B, stand to get wet.
Because it was, as they say, a dark and stormy night, something that Betria Vega and her older brother Sela Ree loved.
"Oiiii," the girl, eight, muttered, raising a single hand to push a strand of displaced black hair out of the way of her eyesight: she did need what little bit of it she could manage to muster. "Sela, how's the project comin' along?"
"Pretty dern well, if I can say so myself," the boy, fifteen, responded with a quick nod. His otherwise stonelike features were today plastered with a mixture of a wide grin and jet black eyes shining with excitement. The furry brown tail placed on his backside waved around, like a pleased cat.
"Got'cha, got'cha," she said. Her arms were folded over her chest, pushing the blue crop top she wore even further down onto her already waterlogged, thin frame. She was bouncing on the soles of her small feet, her tail wrapped around her waist. "But if it can't be finished in time?..."
"Then we're dead. Either we live and get t' kick some Changeling tail, or we die and we get t' sleep for a while. Perty good deal if ya ask me. Relax, Bet."
A sigh escaped the girl's lips. "...Right."
Betria Vega found her brother's carefree qualities to be a tad bit annoying. In their family of two, things sort of worked their way to being her responsibility, especially when it came to important matters. The only reason that she had let this fall into her irresponsible sibling's hands was because she couldn't handle it on her own.
It was a means of technology. If there was anything that the Elite caste Saiyan hated, as if by blood despite her off-to-the-side upbringing it was technology, because she knew the true purpose of her gift of power was to use it to fight. Fight to the death.
She sighed again, shaking her head to shake off those thoughts. Fight to the death was not an option right now--it was run or die. There would be no fighting at all, if she and Sela stayed where they were. The Kannasans had told them so, and as much as she disliked it, she believed it.
"Frieza," Sela started, "is a cold-hearted bastard. I hate havin' to do this crap too, Bet. But there's no savin' 'em from this one. It's up to us to take the role'a vengeance."
The technology in question was space pods. These tiny (compared to some of the bigger things that the Saiyans never really got the privilege of obtaining, like Frieza's own personal ship) little buggers were big enough to fit one man, but they were gonna have to squeeze in two, because it was going to be their method of escape.
The two of them really weren't your typical Saiyans, though. They were not even blood related. They were part of an orphanage run by a Kannasan man, part of Frieza's armed forces, made to bring forth soldiers of a calmer quality out of the Saiyan race. A pet project funded by one of the higher ups in the Changeling's ranks, but not quite high enough to really earn attention.
Which was perfect. The man who had adopted these two warriors out had warned them of impending doom of all those in the Saiyan race at Frieza's hand: and now they could quietly find a way to create a single pod, and just as quietly sneak out of sight.
"...We're really gon' have t' say goodbye to ol' Vegeta, huh?" Sela mused.
"Aye," Betria muttered. "...Aye."
"Gon' be a pain, ain't it?"
"...Mmm."
Also, don't be surprised if I throw canon out the window on some bits here. Because this is sort of AU.
The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the children are playing, and we're all going to die.
Prologue
The weather conditions on Planet Vegeta were, needless to say, not so optimal for those who couldn't, A, stand torrential rainfall for too long (examples being the bottom-end low classes who were still on the planet, and the few Tuffles left), or B, stand to get wet.
Because it was, as they say, a dark and stormy night, something that Betria Vega and her older brother Sela Ree loved.
"Oiiii," the girl, eight, muttered, raising a single hand to push a strand of displaced black hair out of the way of her eyesight: she did need what little bit of it she could manage to muster. "Sela, how's the project comin' along?"
"Pretty dern well, if I can say so myself," the boy, fifteen, responded with a quick nod. His otherwise stonelike features were today plastered with a mixture of a wide grin and jet black eyes shining with excitement. The furry brown tail placed on his backside waved around, like a pleased cat.
"Got'cha, got'cha," she said. Her arms were folded over her chest, pushing the blue crop top she wore even further down onto her already waterlogged, thin frame. She was bouncing on the soles of her small feet, her tail wrapped around her waist. "But if it can't be finished in time?..."
"Then we're dead. Either we live and get t' kick some Changeling tail, or we die and we get t' sleep for a while. Perty good deal if ya ask me. Relax, Bet."
A sigh escaped the girl's lips. "...Right."
Betria Vega found her brother's carefree qualities to be a tad bit annoying. In their family of two, things sort of worked their way to being her responsibility, especially when it came to important matters. The only reason that she had let this fall into her irresponsible sibling's hands was because she couldn't handle it on her own.
It was a means of technology. If there was anything that the Elite caste Saiyan hated, as if by blood despite her off-to-the-side upbringing it was technology, because she knew the true purpose of her gift of power was to use it to fight. Fight to the death.
She sighed again, shaking her head to shake off those thoughts. Fight to the death was not an option right now--it was run or die. There would be no fighting at all, if she and Sela stayed where they were. The Kannasans had told them so, and as much as she disliked it, she believed it.
"Frieza," Sela started, "is a cold-hearted bastard. I hate havin' to do this crap too, Bet. But there's no savin' 'em from this one. It's up to us to take the role'a vengeance."
The technology in question was space pods. These tiny (compared to some of the bigger things that the Saiyans never really got the privilege of obtaining, like Frieza's own personal ship) little buggers were big enough to fit one man, but they were gonna have to squeeze in two, because it was going to be their method of escape.
The two of them really weren't your typical Saiyans, though. They were not even blood related. They were part of an orphanage run by a Kannasan man, part of Frieza's armed forces, made to bring forth soldiers of a calmer quality out of the Saiyan race. A pet project funded by one of the higher ups in the Changeling's ranks, but not quite high enough to really earn attention.
Which was perfect. The man who had adopted these two warriors out had warned them of impending doom of all those in the Saiyan race at Frieza's hand: and now they could quietly find a way to create a single pod, and just as quietly sneak out of sight.
"...We're really gon' have t' say goodbye to ol' Vegeta, huh?" Sela mused.
"Aye," Betria muttered. "...Aye."
"Gon' be a pain, ain't it?"
"...Mmm."