Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Scrap of Hope ❯ A scrap of Saiyan ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: thePrincesJewel 
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / / Psychological / Hentai / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.13.2004 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 672 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / / Psychological / Hentai / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.13.2004 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 672 | Status: Completed
Authors: The Prince's Jewel & Dark Serapha
blood, violence, death (of a minor character), some sap, some lime
Parts of this were inspired by Legendary_Chibi_Vegeta's fabulous tale "Taw Shi"
To put it blunt: We don't own. Never will. Doesn't stop us though.
This lovely bit is another that started as an rp. I'll be horribly mean, and post up the original rp (if Sephfy doesn't kill me first) when the chaptered sections are done. There's... a massive difference.
Scrap of Hope
listened to the comments of the soldiers outside the bathing room. A slave trader coming? And he has slaves meant for fighting. I could have some fun with that. Maybe even find something I can use? It's a slim chance, but at least it's a chance. I've two more months, after all. And miracles do happen. He stood, wringing the water from his hair, grabbed a towel, and got some more details about the slaver from the lingering soldiers. After dressing, he wandered off to see what was for sale.
His progress was halted by a hesitant, soft voice. "Prince Vegeta?"
Vegeta turned, looking down his nose at the extremely low-level, tall warrior who has dared to address him. He allows one eyebrow to lift in question. "Um, Highness the slaver. He is known for having a particularly strong fighter. I thought that might be of interest."
"Did you?" His voice, ever so quiet, had never been more menacing. To his surprise, the man neither fled nor backed down. He drew himself up instead, looking squarely into Vegeta's eyes.
"Your search. It is common knowledge. I cannot help you, my power level" The warrior spread his hands. "I fight well, but my power level barely makes a scouter beep. The slaver's fighter is rumored to be Saiyan-strong - stronger than I am."
Even such as this knew of my search? Vegeta kept his dismay well hidden, turning to continue his interrupted journey. "I stopped that search some time ago," he said coldly, "when the Saiyan race showed its true colors."
The warrior flushed. "I apologize, my Prince. I am out of line." He bowed, moving hurriedly on down the corridor. Vegeta paused again, watched him go. He freely admitted his weakness? Admitted that he is considered weaker than a slave? Perhaps perhaps not all my people approve of what my father has done. I think he just tried to help me as best he could. It was an interesting thought, one he mulled over as he paced toward the arena the where the trader had set up shop.
He wove around the cages, feeling rather disappointed. The trader's assistant had said that there were fighters as well as pleasure slaves available, and the fighters were showing off what passed for their skills. None of them were remotely useful to him. The lowly warrior had said something about a particular slave, but he'd seen nothing to verify the story. Vegeta sighed, then spotted a form in the far corner of the cage he was looking into. Is that... a Saiyan? He moved closer to get a better look.
Goku cowered in the far out corner of the giant cage, as far away from the other slaves as possible. Some of the others were in a brawl at the other side of the cage, but he was too torn and battered to join in, though normally he was always involved - everyone knew that Saiyans loved to fight, after all, although he himself was a bit of an exception. But Master had been very angry with him and he had been beaten to unconsciousness again. Now, he was curled protectively around his poor mistreated tail, used once again as means of punishment, trying to forget all about his miserable life. It isn't likely I will be sold, anyway. Master still considers me a favorite.
Vegeta saw blood, old scars, fresh wounds - and glimpses of a tail. That male is a Saiyan, as I thought. The only one in the entire cage. This has possibilities. He smiled - not a nice smile. His attention stayed on the young Saiyan in the cage as he willed the boy to look up.
Goku shifted nervously, feeling distinctively as if someone was staring at him. He tried to shake it off, but knew that faking sleep would just lead to new punishment, should it be one of the masters. Uncoiling his bruised, stiff body with much difficulty, he winced as what he suspected was a broken rib throbbed. He wondered what they wanted him for this time - fighting or fucking. Yes, he won most of his fights - but still, he wasn't as vicious as the others, which made him vulnerable. Raising his head, he looked around for the eyes he felt upon him.
Vegeta's smile turned into a smirk. He didn't bother to check the boy with his scouter - a ki-collar wrapped around his neck. He's fought, and won. The scars show that. There is definite potential in spite of the damage. The boy might even clean up pretty. He paced closer to the cage. That would be a decided improvement.
The young slave blinked, his vision still a little blurred from the blue-blackish eye he sported, only able to see a very vague figure through the bars. The palpable persistence of the other's stare struck him as odd and for the first time he wondered where they actually were. He hadn't been able to pay much attention to their whereabouts up to now. He was used to the cage being set up in some marketplace or another, but this area didn't seem like the usual marketplaces. Or sound like it. Then his eyes fell on the swaying tail of the figure and widened. Is that it looks like His own tail uncoiled from his waist and thumped against the wooden floor of the cage weakly.
Vegeta had gotten close enough to realize that the boy was more battered than he had thought. It was when he got a good look at the tail that tried to greet him he realized just how badly off the young Saiyan was. A distinct feeling of rage filled him. That trader... will not make it off-planet. The fool should not have brought a Saiyan slave to Vegeta-sei... and especially not one in this shape. Glaring, the prince left to find the unfortunate thing.
The figure turned away from Goku and vanished again, and with it went the small flicker of hope that somehow, oddly, had risen. His head sank back and he curled up again, forgetting to wrap his tail around his waist.
Vegeta decided to make an example of the trader. A great deal of screaming occurred, and blood got absolutely everywhere. No one was able to mistake the prince's dislike of the man. Vegeta regarded his formerly white gloves with dispassion, wondering what to do with the slavering, whimpering thing at his feet. His eyes shifted to the cage and the rabid figures - and one forlorn one - within. The trader, not quite dead yet, protested as best he could when being drug toward the cage. Vegeta easily snapped the door open, and threw the broken trader in. "Play with him. Make it last," he ordered. His aim was good, the trader landed near the Saiyan. Now to see what the boy does.
Goku roused from his drowsing when the door to the cage suddenly opened and something heavy and wet landed right next to him. Are the fights over already? Wonder who bit the dust this time around? But when he crawled nearer to investigate he found to his great surprise it was the master himself! And he was hurt and not so high and mighty anymore! For a moment he just sat and stared at the thing that had brought him so much pain over so many years. So many nights where he couldn't move. Who had done things he didn't even want to remember but was forced to relive in his dreams. every single night. He didn't even question his luck. A ferocious expression spread on his face, one that no one had ever seen on him before, and broken rib and bruised body were forgotten as he made short but brutal work of what was left of his former master, grinning madly all the time, acting as instinctively as they'd always wanted him to.
Vegeta realized very quickly that make it slow wasn't going to happen, there was too much pent up Saiyan anger in the young one. He waited until the trader was little more than a pile of goo, then opened the door again. "Saiyan. Come." The surrounding customers hissed, realizing suddenly why their prince had made such a public display of the trader, and took it into their heads to find the trader's associates. More blood would spill before the day was out most in long, drawn-out processes.
Goku shook the blood from his hands, snorting in disgust at the remains of the man who had tormented and abused him for so many years. He looked up at the call, narrowing his eyes and hissing, not sure what to make of the situation. I have killed the master! I'm free no.. I'm doomed It dawned on him suddenly what he'd just done - surely he'd be killed for it. Snarling, he limped back from the opening, not trusting that voice.
Vegeta's tail swished once in anger. "Boy. Come."
Goku hesitated. The voice was angry and dominant, and he'd been taught to listen to voices like that - it was the voice of a master. His tail dropped to hang limply when he changed his mind. Obeying, head hung low, he limped over to the caller, anticipating the worst.
Vegeta shot a ki blast at another slave who got far too close to him, examining the scrap the Saiyan had become. "Out." He stepped aside, making room for the youth to get out of the cage. His tail twitched with both rage and impatience.
Goku stepped out of the cage as ordered, blinking as the bright light hit his eyes and made him cringe.
Vegeta seriously considered skipping his training program for the afternoon as he tried to decide what to do with the scrap first. It was a tossup between the baths - the boy reeked - or medical. Recalling the pained way the boy had moved, he prodded his chest.
Goku winced and blinked as the figure which was so blurred before suddenly appeared in front of him - slightly smaller than me, his eyes, so sharp and that swishing tail - and prodded him. He yelped as his broken rib shifted and slumped slightly.
Medical, then. The whelp is in pain, but able to stand and move on his own. Good signs. He needs healing, true, but I want those bruises gone! "Boy. You will follow me." He started off, not even looking back, expecting instant obedience.
Goku slowly recovered and blinked at the retreating back. There's something about that voice... and that figure... and that tail... He followed the man, his curiosity spiked.
Vegeta stopped outside the medical ward, called a doctor over. "Boy. You will go with him. I will be back to collect you in a few hours." He left the scrap in the doctor's capable hands and headed off immediately to his favorite training arena. His future no longer seemed quite as bleak as it did before his shower. Now, Father, I just may have a way out!
blood, violence, death (of a minor character), some sap, some lime
Parts of this were inspired by Legendary_Chibi_Vegeta's fabulous tale "Taw Shi"
To put it blunt: We don't own. Never will. Doesn't stop us though.
This lovely bit is another that started as an rp. I'll be horribly mean, and post up the original rp (if Sephfy doesn't kill me first) when the chaptered sections are done. There's... a massive difference.
Scrap of Hope
listened to the comments of the soldiers outside the bathing room. A slave trader coming? And he has slaves meant for fighting. I could have some fun with that. Maybe even find something I can use? It's a slim chance, but at least it's a chance. I've two more months, after all. And miracles do happen. He stood, wringing the water from his hair, grabbed a towel, and got some more details about the slaver from the lingering soldiers. After dressing, he wandered off to see what was for sale.
His progress was halted by a hesitant, soft voice. "Prince Vegeta?"
Vegeta turned, looking down his nose at the extremely low-level, tall warrior who has dared to address him. He allows one eyebrow to lift in question. "Um, Highness the slaver. He is known for having a particularly strong fighter. I thought that might be of interest."
"Did you?" His voice, ever so quiet, had never been more menacing. To his surprise, the man neither fled nor backed down. He drew himself up instead, looking squarely into Vegeta's eyes.
"Your search. It is common knowledge. I cannot help you, my power level" The warrior spread his hands. "I fight well, but my power level barely makes a scouter beep. The slaver's fighter is rumored to be Saiyan-strong - stronger than I am."
Even such as this knew of my search? Vegeta kept his dismay well hidden, turning to continue his interrupted journey. "I stopped that search some time ago," he said coldly, "when the Saiyan race showed its true colors."
The warrior flushed. "I apologize, my Prince. I am out of line." He bowed, moving hurriedly on down the corridor. Vegeta paused again, watched him go. He freely admitted his weakness? Admitted that he is considered weaker than a slave? Perhaps perhaps not all my people approve of what my father has done. I think he just tried to help me as best he could. It was an interesting thought, one he mulled over as he paced toward the arena the where the trader had set up shop.
He wove around the cages, feeling rather disappointed. The trader's assistant had said that there were fighters as well as pleasure slaves available, and the fighters were showing off what passed for their skills. None of them were remotely useful to him. The lowly warrior had said something about a particular slave, but he'd seen nothing to verify the story. Vegeta sighed, then spotted a form in the far corner of the cage he was looking into. Is that... a Saiyan? He moved closer to get a better look.
Goku cowered in the far out corner of the giant cage, as far away from the other slaves as possible. Some of the others were in a brawl at the other side of the cage, but he was too torn and battered to join in, though normally he was always involved - everyone knew that Saiyans loved to fight, after all, although he himself was a bit of an exception. But Master had been very angry with him and he had been beaten to unconsciousness again. Now, he was curled protectively around his poor mistreated tail, used once again as means of punishment, trying to forget all about his miserable life. It isn't likely I will be sold, anyway. Master still considers me a favorite.
Vegeta saw blood, old scars, fresh wounds - and glimpses of a tail. That male is a Saiyan, as I thought. The only one in the entire cage. This has possibilities. He smiled - not a nice smile. His attention stayed on the young Saiyan in the cage as he willed the boy to look up.
Goku shifted nervously, feeling distinctively as if someone was staring at him. He tried to shake it off, but knew that faking sleep would just lead to new punishment, should it be one of the masters. Uncoiling his bruised, stiff body with much difficulty, he winced as what he suspected was a broken rib throbbed. He wondered what they wanted him for this time - fighting or fucking. Yes, he won most of his fights - but still, he wasn't as vicious as the others, which made him vulnerable. Raising his head, he looked around for the eyes he felt upon him.
Vegeta's smile turned into a smirk. He didn't bother to check the boy with his scouter - a ki-collar wrapped around his neck. He's fought, and won. The scars show that. There is definite potential in spite of the damage. The boy might even clean up pretty. He paced closer to the cage. That would be a decided improvement.
The young slave blinked, his vision still a little blurred from the blue-blackish eye he sported, only able to see a very vague figure through the bars. The palpable persistence of the other's stare struck him as odd and for the first time he wondered where they actually were. He hadn't been able to pay much attention to their whereabouts up to now. He was used to the cage being set up in some marketplace or another, but this area didn't seem like the usual marketplaces. Or sound like it. Then his eyes fell on the swaying tail of the figure and widened. Is that it looks like His own tail uncoiled from his waist and thumped against the wooden floor of the cage weakly.
Vegeta had gotten close enough to realize that the boy was more battered than he had thought. It was when he got a good look at the tail that tried to greet him he realized just how badly off the young Saiyan was. A distinct feeling of rage filled him. That trader... will not make it off-planet. The fool should not have brought a Saiyan slave to Vegeta-sei... and especially not one in this shape. Glaring, the prince left to find the unfortunate thing.
The figure turned away from Goku and vanished again, and with it went the small flicker of hope that somehow, oddly, had risen. His head sank back and he curled up again, forgetting to wrap his tail around his waist.
Vegeta decided to make an example of the trader. A great deal of screaming occurred, and blood got absolutely everywhere. No one was able to mistake the prince's dislike of the man. Vegeta regarded his formerly white gloves with dispassion, wondering what to do with the slavering, whimpering thing at his feet. His eyes shifted to the cage and the rabid figures - and one forlorn one - within. The trader, not quite dead yet, protested as best he could when being drug toward the cage. Vegeta easily snapped the door open, and threw the broken trader in. "Play with him. Make it last," he ordered. His aim was good, the trader landed near the Saiyan. Now to see what the boy does.
Goku roused from his drowsing when the door to the cage suddenly opened and something heavy and wet landed right next to him. Are the fights over already? Wonder who bit the dust this time around? But when he crawled nearer to investigate he found to his great surprise it was the master himself! And he was hurt and not so high and mighty anymore! For a moment he just sat and stared at the thing that had brought him so much pain over so many years. So many nights where he couldn't move. Who had done things he didn't even want to remember but was forced to relive in his dreams. every single night. He didn't even question his luck. A ferocious expression spread on his face, one that no one had ever seen on him before, and broken rib and bruised body were forgotten as he made short but brutal work of what was left of his former master, grinning madly all the time, acting as instinctively as they'd always wanted him to.
Vegeta realized very quickly that make it slow wasn't going to happen, there was too much pent up Saiyan anger in the young one. He waited until the trader was little more than a pile of goo, then opened the door again. "Saiyan. Come." The surrounding customers hissed, realizing suddenly why their prince had made such a public display of the trader, and took it into their heads to find the trader's associates. More blood would spill before the day was out most in long, drawn-out processes.
Goku shook the blood from his hands, snorting in disgust at the remains of the man who had tormented and abused him for so many years. He looked up at the call, narrowing his eyes and hissing, not sure what to make of the situation. I have killed the master! I'm free no.. I'm doomed It dawned on him suddenly what he'd just done - surely he'd be killed for it. Snarling, he limped back from the opening, not trusting that voice.
Vegeta's tail swished once in anger. "Boy. Come."
Goku hesitated. The voice was angry and dominant, and he'd been taught to listen to voices like that - it was the voice of a master. His tail dropped to hang limply when he changed his mind. Obeying, head hung low, he limped over to the caller, anticipating the worst.
Vegeta shot a ki blast at another slave who got far too close to him, examining the scrap the Saiyan had become. "Out." He stepped aside, making room for the youth to get out of the cage. His tail twitched with both rage and impatience.
Goku stepped out of the cage as ordered, blinking as the bright light hit his eyes and made him cringe.
Vegeta seriously considered skipping his training program for the afternoon as he tried to decide what to do with the scrap first. It was a tossup between the baths - the boy reeked - or medical. Recalling the pained way the boy had moved, he prodded his chest.
Goku winced and blinked as the figure which was so blurred before suddenly appeared in front of him - slightly smaller than me, his eyes, so sharp and that swishing tail - and prodded him. He yelped as his broken rib shifted and slumped slightly.
Medical, then. The whelp is in pain, but able to stand and move on his own. Good signs. He needs healing, true, but I want those bruises gone! "Boy. You will follow me." He started off, not even looking back, expecting instant obedience.
Goku slowly recovered and blinked at the retreating back. There's something about that voice... and that figure... and that tail... He followed the man, his curiosity spiked.
Vegeta stopped outside the medical ward, called a doctor over. "Boy. You will go with him. I will be back to collect you in a few hours." He left the scrap in the doctor's capable hands and headed off immediately to his favorite training arena. His future no longer seemed quite as bleak as it did before his shower. Now, Father, I just may have a way out!