InuYasha Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Indestructible ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Mizu Ookami 
A dangerous warrior with a dark past. A young woman shrouded in mystery. But who are they? To the Z-fighters they are certainly not friends, but are they quite enemies? There's an old saying; the enemy of my enemy is my friend. INUYASHA x DRAGONBALL Z
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Suspense / Adventure | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 03.23.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 847 | Status: Completed
A dangerous warrior with a dark past. A young woman shrouded in mystery. But who are they? To the Z-fighters they are certainly not friends, but are they quite enemies? There's an old saying; the enemy of my enemy is my friend. INUYASHA x DRAGONBALL Z
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Suspense / Adventure | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 03.23.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 847 | Status: Completed
thoughts
amplified thoughts/meanings
_______________________________________________________________________
"Destination: Earth. Estimated Time of Arrival: 30 minutes."
"Destination: Earth. Estimated Time of Arrival: 10 minutes."
"Destination: Earth. Estimated Time of Arrival: 50 seconds."
"Destination: Earth. Estimated Time of Arrival: 0 seconds."
"Destination: Earth. Estimated Time of Arrival: arrived. Beginning analyze in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… now. "
Beneath the robotic voice, the words reverberating throughout the metallic dome that had served as his home for what seemed to be far too many years now, he could just barely hear the unmistakable hissing as latches and pressurized valves switched from shut to open. It was a sound that seemed dull even to his own senses and yet there was something within the depths of his mind which insisted that he was to pay attention, to shake off the wariness of the sleep which had laid claim to his senses before he found himself vulernable to the would-be attacks of those that would want to do him harm. Him himself... or his companion. Unlike him the other was going to remain asleep as long as possible for in comparison if someone was to succeed in getting their hands upon the dark eyed and darker haired female whom knew what they would be willing to use her power for in comparison he was... expendable.
A sudden sharp dinging sound, the sound of metal snapping with deafening force within the depths of the rounded metallic dome that sounded even to him like the sounds of brittle bones breaking underneath some unseen force, dragged his mind from thoughts of the other and to more pressing issues. The sound was a sharp reminder of the fact that the vessel wasn't going to last much longer anyways... one of the reasons why he had selected this preverbal mudball as a landing place. A growl, a sound deep from the chest and sounding more like a sound akin to an animal's throat than something could anything even vaguely humanoid should be capable of producing, escaped his throat before a gloved hand reached out to snag at the snaking cord of tubing that was whipping in the corner of his vision. Air, sour with a sort of rot that professed the systems were failing worst than he thought, brushed against his face and ruffled dark hair that reached well to the middle of his chest.
Even if the air was cool, and sour as it was, it served in bringing his mind further to the forefront and from the depths of forced slumber that had caused his breathing to slow in something akin to hibernation. Warmth flooded through his veins, first beginning as something that was impossibly hot as if his blood had turned to lava and then cooling so rapidly that underneath the strain he could almost feel his heart thundering away... the shock serving as a means of jump-starting the vital organ before he was to move and as such suffer serious reprocusions if that organ wasn't 'awake' if one was willing to say so. His lungs protested having to work for themselves, an ache that eased with each new breathe.
How long had passed since he had slunk away to the dark interior of the vessel was beyond him, the bright crimson lettering was hard to read with eyes that burnt with trying to focus and after a minute he considered that particular piece of information anything but vital. Whatever the time it didn't matter for he... and his companion... happened to be much further away from where they should be because of the damage dealt to the vessel in the fighting. A part of him reasoned it couldn't have been long for even within the depths of the darkened vessel he could tell that he wasn't fully healed. Skin pulled taunt across forcefully healed wounds itched, begging to be scratched, the most noticeable of these itches spanning from across his chest all the way down to his right hip. That was from one opponent's lucky blow, the weapon of choice having cut through the loose fabric that he had taken to wearing to sheer through the soft delicate skin underneath. It was simply his agility that had kept the blade, for it had been a sword, sinking any further and into the vulnerable organs beneath the skin itself. But still that wound could prove a handicap if he was going to have to fight.
And to protect the 'cargo', his companion, he would fight if needed.
Even as the thought tickled the back of his mind... and with it a memory of pain that came with fighting... deft fingers, gloved within the confines of black leather gloves that reached halfway up to the elbows quickly undoing the harness, he had been told it was meant to be protective though he had always found the winding fabric to be restraining even imprisoning. Fabric hissed back into place, pulled by dozens of tiny unseen machines that had been awaiting that release, with the metal clasps keeping the straps themselves from disappearing completely into their compartments. The computers, there had to be a half dozen of the things in varying sizes and shapes, flickered and blinked as the screens one after the other began to darken. They weren't necessarily turning off as they were going on something of a standby, simply awaiting a new command either to shut down or to reboot for more processing.
Breathe hissing through tautly pulled lips as he stretched tired muscles, pulling the repaired skin until it began to hurt, a gloved hand brushed itself through dark hair, ruffling the tangled tresses in a move that didn't belay the sense of... unease... that tickled his mind. He was going to have to see just what this mudball had to offer, if there was anything of value here which could be used to repair the damage that had been dealt to the vessel. And then leave. The freed glove hand reached forwards coming in contact with the handle-bars that marked the entrance of his craft. With a creaking down the door began to slid out and upwards to expose him to this new world.
"Runt…"
A low growl it pierced through Gohan's thoughts with all the effectiveness as if the other had actually struck him and he turned his head, dark eyes sweeping past Goten... his little brother was getting better to keep up with him at this speed and was as such only a sense of amused pride at how quickly the other's skills grew... to the individual he had felt approaching for the past few minutes. Momentarily he heard Goten squeak slightly, though the intruder happened to be the father of his little brother's best friend there was always something about Vegeta that succeeded in frightening the younger boys, but he simply choose to ignore it as been a natural reaction. There were more pressing issues to deal with after all... and that happened to be the energy signature, like a thick heavy blanket that pulsated from the center of the 'Satan' city... which needed more attention than even his brother's surprise at the other's antics.
If the prince of Saiyans... wearing his trademarked black shirt, sleeveless like always, and a pair of similarly colored pants... happened to notice it didn't show. "You felt it too then Vegeta?"
"How could I not?" One dark eyebrow lifted in a non-verbal comment that Gohan could well imagine, basically the full blooded Saiyan was implying that he was something of an idiot. "Whoever it is, this person is strong…"
"What… wh…" The last of Gohan's sentence, asking if the saiyan might have an idea as to who, died on the tip of his tongue as Vegeta stopped so suddenly it was almost as if the other had run into a brick wall. Instinct had Gohan follow suit, both feeling Goten and hearing the other's eep as he crashed into the back of Gohan's legs, as he followed the saiyan prince's too-intense stare.
To someone else that was hovering in the air, someone that Gohan had never seen before.
Taller than most, though not necessarily capable of besting Gohan's own trainer Piccolo in height, this individual was somehow both broad and slim in structure at the same time. A dark shirt, similar to Vegeta's own royal blue "bodysuit" though not nearly as form hugging, was wrapped around the upper torso and left to hang loosely above the belt that had wound around the narrow waist. Even from where Gohan stood, floated however one wanted to refer to his hovering stance, he could see that one half of that dark tinged shirt was ripped from shoulder down to reveal lightly tanned skin stretched tightly across a torso that was quite muscular. Not the bulkiness that Gohan had seen amongst human fighters, bodybuilders, but rather a sleek muscling that proclaimed of both strength and speed alike. Pants, they were of pallid blue jeans, encased the legs though from the left knee down the fabric had gone missing.
But what stilled the thundering race of Gohan's heart underneath the cage of his ribs was not the man's appearance, for that ripped cloth ad the short-sleeved shirt revealed that the other was most certainly a warrior for the sun-tanned skin was scarred with the lingering reminder of seemingly numberless wars, was what happened to be wrapped around the man's waist. Long and serpentine, for it had been wrapped three times around the man's waist so that the tip happened to be resting overtop of the other's right hip, that thing which was wound around the male's waist was not something as simple as a belt or a piece of cloth that served the same purpose as a belt. Even from this distance there was no denying that the 'thing' around the man's waist happened to be covered in a thin russet brown fur. Even though years had passed since Gohan himself had once borne a tail himself... and seen a humanoid with a tail for that matter... the memory was like a steamroller in how it wouldn't be stopped.
"Saiyan," even as the word escaped Gohan he turned seeking some sort of disagreement from Vegeta. But the saiyan prince looked as if the other was seeing a preverbal ghost.
Converting /tmp/phpuzUSEa to /dev/stdout
amplified thoughts/meanings
_______________________________________________________________________
"Destination: Earth. Estimated Time of Arrival: 30 minutes."
"Destination: Earth. Estimated Time of Arrival: 10 minutes."
"Destination: Earth. Estimated Time of Arrival: 50 seconds."
"Destination: Earth. Estimated Time of Arrival: 0 seconds."
"Destination: Earth. Estimated Time of Arrival: arrived. Beginning analyze in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… now. "
Beneath the robotic voice, the words reverberating throughout the metallic dome that had served as his home for what seemed to be far too many years now, he could just barely hear the unmistakable hissing as latches and pressurized valves switched from shut to open. It was a sound that seemed dull even to his own senses and yet there was something within the depths of his mind which insisted that he was to pay attention, to shake off the wariness of the sleep which had laid claim to his senses before he found himself vulernable to the would-be attacks of those that would want to do him harm. Him himself... or his companion. Unlike him the other was going to remain asleep as long as possible for in comparison if someone was to succeed in getting their hands upon the dark eyed and darker haired female whom knew what they would be willing to use her power for in comparison he was... expendable.
A sudden sharp dinging sound, the sound of metal snapping with deafening force within the depths of the rounded metallic dome that sounded even to him like the sounds of brittle bones breaking underneath some unseen force, dragged his mind from thoughts of the other and to more pressing issues. The sound was a sharp reminder of the fact that the vessel wasn't going to last much longer anyways... one of the reasons why he had selected this preverbal mudball as a landing place. A growl, a sound deep from the chest and sounding more like a sound akin to an animal's throat than something could anything even vaguely humanoid should be capable of producing, escaped his throat before a gloved hand reached out to snag at the snaking cord of tubing that was whipping in the corner of his vision. Air, sour with a sort of rot that professed the systems were failing worst than he thought, brushed against his face and ruffled dark hair that reached well to the middle of his chest.
Even if the air was cool, and sour as it was, it served in bringing his mind further to the forefront and from the depths of forced slumber that had caused his breathing to slow in something akin to hibernation. Warmth flooded through his veins, first beginning as something that was impossibly hot as if his blood had turned to lava and then cooling so rapidly that underneath the strain he could almost feel his heart thundering away... the shock serving as a means of jump-starting the vital organ before he was to move and as such suffer serious reprocusions if that organ wasn't 'awake' if one was willing to say so. His lungs protested having to work for themselves, an ache that eased with each new breathe.
How long had passed since he had slunk away to the dark interior of the vessel was beyond him, the bright crimson lettering was hard to read with eyes that burnt with trying to focus and after a minute he considered that particular piece of information anything but vital. Whatever the time it didn't matter for he... and his companion... happened to be much further away from where they should be because of the damage dealt to the vessel in the fighting. A part of him reasoned it couldn't have been long for even within the depths of the darkened vessel he could tell that he wasn't fully healed. Skin pulled taunt across forcefully healed wounds itched, begging to be scratched, the most noticeable of these itches spanning from across his chest all the way down to his right hip. That was from one opponent's lucky blow, the weapon of choice having cut through the loose fabric that he had taken to wearing to sheer through the soft delicate skin underneath. It was simply his agility that had kept the blade, for it had been a sword, sinking any further and into the vulnerable organs beneath the skin itself. But still that wound could prove a handicap if he was going to have to fight.
And to protect the 'cargo', his companion, he would fight if needed.
Even as the thought tickled the back of his mind... and with it a memory of pain that came with fighting... deft fingers, gloved within the confines of black leather gloves that reached halfway up to the elbows quickly undoing the harness, he had been told it was meant to be protective though he had always found the winding fabric to be restraining even imprisoning. Fabric hissed back into place, pulled by dozens of tiny unseen machines that had been awaiting that release, with the metal clasps keeping the straps themselves from disappearing completely into their compartments. The computers, there had to be a half dozen of the things in varying sizes and shapes, flickered and blinked as the screens one after the other began to darken. They weren't necessarily turning off as they were going on something of a standby, simply awaiting a new command either to shut down or to reboot for more processing.
Breathe hissing through tautly pulled lips as he stretched tired muscles, pulling the repaired skin until it began to hurt, a gloved hand brushed itself through dark hair, ruffling the tangled tresses in a move that didn't belay the sense of... unease... that tickled his mind. He was going to have to see just what this mudball had to offer, if there was anything of value here which could be used to repair the damage that had been dealt to the vessel. And then leave. The freed glove hand reached forwards coming in contact with the handle-bars that marked the entrance of his craft. With a creaking down the door began to slid out and upwards to expose him to this new world.
"Runt…"
A low growl it pierced through Gohan's thoughts with all the effectiveness as if the other had actually struck him and he turned his head, dark eyes sweeping past Goten... his little brother was getting better to keep up with him at this speed and was as such only a sense of amused pride at how quickly the other's skills grew... to the individual he had felt approaching for the past few minutes. Momentarily he heard Goten squeak slightly, though the intruder happened to be the father of his little brother's best friend there was always something about Vegeta that succeeded in frightening the younger boys, but he simply choose to ignore it as been a natural reaction. There were more pressing issues to deal with after all... and that happened to be the energy signature, like a thick heavy blanket that pulsated from the center of the 'Satan' city... which needed more attention than even his brother's surprise at the other's antics.
If the prince of Saiyans... wearing his trademarked black shirt, sleeveless like always, and a pair of similarly colored pants... happened to notice it didn't show. "You felt it too then Vegeta?"
"How could I not?" One dark eyebrow lifted in a non-verbal comment that Gohan could well imagine, basically the full blooded Saiyan was implying that he was something of an idiot. "Whoever it is, this person is strong…"
"What… wh…" The last of Gohan's sentence, asking if the saiyan might have an idea as to who, died on the tip of his tongue as Vegeta stopped so suddenly it was almost as if the other had run into a brick wall. Instinct had Gohan follow suit, both feeling Goten and hearing the other's eep as he crashed into the back of Gohan's legs, as he followed the saiyan prince's too-intense stare.
To someone else that was hovering in the air, someone that Gohan had never seen before.
Taller than most, though not necessarily capable of besting Gohan's own trainer Piccolo in height, this individual was somehow both broad and slim in structure at the same time. A dark shirt, similar to Vegeta's own royal blue "bodysuit" though not nearly as form hugging, was wrapped around the upper torso and left to hang loosely above the belt that had wound around the narrow waist. Even from where Gohan stood, floated however one wanted to refer to his hovering stance, he could see that one half of that dark tinged shirt was ripped from shoulder down to reveal lightly tanned skin stretched tightly across a torso that was quite muscular. Not the bulkiness that Gohan had seen amongst human fighters, bodybuilders, but rather a sleek muscling that proclaimed of both strength and speed alike. Pants, they were of pallid blue jeans, encased the legs though from the left knee down the fabric had gone missing.
But what stilled the thundering race of Gohan's heart underneath the cage of his ribs was not the man's appearance, for that ripped cloth ad the short-sleeved shirt revealed that the other was most certainly a warrior for the sun-tanned skin was scarred with the lingering reminder of seemingly numberless wars, was what happened to be wrapped around the man's waist. Long and serpentine, for it had been wrapped three times around the man's waist so that the tip happened to be resting overtop of the other's right hip, that thing which was wound around the male's waist was not something as simple as a belt or a piece of cloth that served the same purpose as a belt. Even from this distance there was no denying that the 'thing' around the man's waist happened to be covered in a thin russet brown fur. Even though years had passed since Gohan himself had once borne a tail himself... and seen a humanoid with a tail for that matter... the memory was like a steamroller in how it wouldn't be stopped.
"Saiyan," even as the word escaped Gohan he turned seeking some sort of disagreement from Vegeta. But the saiyan prince looked as if the other was seeing a preverbal ghost.
Converting /tmp/phpuzUSEa to /dev/stdout