Post by Callion on Dec 1, 2016 18:57:17 GMT
The sound of a roaring engine filled the air. A red car, sleek in design and powerful in terms of speed, down the dirt brown road. Its driver, a middle-aged man, tan in complexion with black hair and brown eyes, held the wheel with one hand, while the other hung out of the window, tapping the side of the car. He wore a black leather jacket with beige dress pants, and clean leather shoes.
This man was named Quito Slasa. He was a proud father of three and happily married to his high school sweetheart, Burrita. Quito had been going through a bit of a mid-life crisis since he had turned thirty-eight. Instead of leaving his wife and kids and finding himself a new spark, Quito did the sensible thing.He bought a fast new car, along with a nice leather jacket. Every day after work at his boring office job, Quito would speed around like he did during the days of his youth. A smile always came over his face as he felt the smooth ground pass beneath the car’s tires.
His favorite part of this route was coming up. A very long and sharp turn.He had done it hundreds of time since he started this tradition. The sheer adrenaline that pumped through Quito as he did performed the turn set him alight with joy.
As he ascended up the side of the mountain road, he spotted the familiar signs that the road showed to signify a dangerous turn.
Here it comes!
Quito placed his other hand on the wheel and gripped it tight. He was beyond thrilled! This was what he lived for! Approaching his turn, Quito put a foot on the brakes, not applying pressure just yet. His hands gripped the wheels so hard his knuckles turned white.
As he spotted the bend in the road's path, he quickly turned the wheel to the left. Or rather attempted to. Something was off. The wheel remained stuck in place. Perhaps the car had been damaged somehow, but that didn’t matter very much right now. He was driving so fast that by the time his foot had slammed on the breaks he had already cleared the edge of the cliff. Time seemed to slow down, as he continued to travel forward, before he began his inevitable descent toward the ground, some fifty or sixty feet below.
Quito felt a rush of emotions in a matter of seconds. Panic, terror, sadness, and then acceptance. As he continued to fall toward the ground, Quito closed his eyes and thought hard about his family. His beautiful wife Burrita, with her ebony hair and cute smile. His twin daughters Quesa and Diya, both of which would grow into beautiful women who would lovingly raise happy families. And finally, he thought of his son Acato. He would have to step up as the man of the house when the time came. He was only thirteen now, so he still had time to enjoy his youth. Though that may have to take a backseat now that his father was about to die.
Quito, eyes still shut tight, prayed to any deity that could hear him, to allow his family a full and happy life with his absence, and to let their grieving pass with no lasting damage to their mental, physical or emotional health. Then, Quito cleared his head and waited for Death to come with a smile on his face, as he thought of the people he loved.
One minute, two minutes, three whole minutes passed with no change in Quito’s mental state. If this was Death, it felt remarkably similar to life. Cracking open an eye, Quito’s other one quickly followed after since the sight before him was unbelievable.The familiar blue of the morning sky, though it was not only remaining at the same level with no changes in altitude, it was also racing past him, as if he had suddenly picked up speed. Quito quickly unclipped his seatbelt and stuck his head and shoulders out of his open window.
The speeding air resistance set Quito’s into a frenzy, but this was incredible! His car was remaining suspended in the air of its own volition. This was a whole new kind of rush!
“Wooohoooo!” Quito shouted, pumping a fist into the air, although once the exclamation disappeared into the roaring wind, the car began to slowly decline in altitude, though this was different from a free fall. This was a gentle drop.
The car would eventually stop in its entirety still about six feet in the air. Then the car lurched forward, and slid down the rest of the way its tires gently returning to the soft sandy Earth of the forest floor.
Once the car was safely on the ground, Quito quickly opened the door and almost fell over rushing out of the car. Looking around, he spotted an odd site.
A young man, who looked to be in his earlier twenties or late teens, with ebony hair that was made flat with what Quito could only assume to be copious amounts of gel. This young man;s skin was tan, though his body was covered by what looked to be a sleeveless, red and black martial arts gi. On his shoulder was a pitch black gym bag.
Quito was very confused as to what this man was doing here, but he was no fool. He was aware that the world contained spectacular beings, and he had a gut feeling that he had just encountered one of them.
The young man would give Quito a smile and say “Are you alri-” but was stopped by Quito grabbing him and pulling him into a bear hug.
“Thank you so much! Thank you so so so much, my friend,” Quito said his accent a little thick due to the emotion welling up inside of him. The relief and shock were beginning to kick in. Quito felt the young man’s hands pat him on the back in awkward reassurance.
“You are welcome,” the young man said in reply, sounding a bit confused.
With that, Quito quickly let the man go and rushed over to the backseat of his car.
“I have to reward you for this, my friend and then I have a request of you.” Quito began to smile as he rustled through his backseat, with an “Aha!” coming from him once he had retrieved what he was searching for. A small stack of zeni wrapped with a pink rubber band. Quito approached the young man, and took one of his hands, putting the zeni into it with his other.
“Take this, please. I owe you my life, and I don’t think any amount of zeni will ever pay you back for what you just did for me. My name is Quito Slasa. What’s yours?”
The young man looked down at the zeni and seemed to have some sort of mental argument with himself by the way his eyes kept shifting and he quietly muttered to himself, before he finally took the money and pocketed it. The young man’s black eyes met Quito’s simple browns as he asked his next question. “My name is Callion. What is your request?”
Quito gave the man a sly grin. “Do you think you could fly me home?”
Satan City was a much different place at night. Dark clouds drifted eerily across the night sky. The tall skyscrapers, traditionally a monument to the ingenuity of mankind, now cast dark shadows over the city, turning the night-time metropolis atmosphere into something a tad more sinister. This was also that time of night that many shady activities began to take place. In the center of these activities was where Callion, the young warrior from another world, had found himself.
This stadium was quite vast, probably around a hundred feet or two in diameter. Completely submerged underground, a plethora of spotlights and ceiling rigs were set up around the battleground. Hundreds of red leather seats made up the outer square, almost all of the seats being in a state of disrepair due to constant use by rather aggressive showgoers. The center of the stadium held a square platform, about ten feet in any direction, and with ropes tied along the edges of it. The platform was about four feet off of the ground. Inside of this roped off platforms, two very muscular men were wrestling quite fiercely, the effort and strain evident on their faces even from Callion's distance.
Hundreds of different inhabitants of Earth shouted in either approval or displeasure. From upper-class humans to lower class zoanthropes, Callion saw people from all different walks of life, though one thing he took note of was that the entire attendance seemed to only consist of Human or Zoanthrope kind. Callion had managed to infiltrate this place due to his skill in passing as a human. Callion's tail sat comfortably within his waistband, completely invisible to any outside eyes.
The only thing keeping the fighters inside was the ring of ropes on each side of the square, and one of the two poor saps had just tossed the other over them and onto the hard stone floor! Callion shook his head before the crowd suddenly began to quiet down. Speakers situated around the massive stadium practically burst with noise as they projected the deep voice of a hidden announcer.
"Ladieeeeeees aaaaand gentlemen, welcome to the Midnight Massacre! Home to some of the nastiest wrestlers Satan City's underground have even born witness to. Now, as per tradition, it's time for everyone's favorite weekly bloodbath!"
Once the man had finished speaking for the moment, almost everyone in the underground stadium simultaneously shouted "THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE!"
That does not sound very pleasant.
Callion's distaste with this whole spectacle would reach even greater heights, unbeknownst to him. The announcer's voice exploded from the speaker's yet again.
"That's right folks! Everyone's favorite gauntlet of pain is back on the chopping block. Which one of you sorry saps is willing to go toe to toe with the fiercest man in the Eastern Lands, for the cash grand prize?"
As the man finished his offer, every light in the stadium would go out at once, with only a three spotlights casting their rays on the center platform, and a fourth illuminating a curtain on the only side of the stadium with no seats for the audience. Suddenly, Callion heard a cacophony of awful noises, which sent the Humans in the crowd into a frenzy of delight.
"Heeeeere he is folks," The announcer's voice was heard over the rock music that was playing. "The man, the mountain, the breaker of bones and wills to live!THE DOMINATOOOOOOOOOR!"
The man that emerged from the curtain was massive. He must’ve been a bit over seven feet tall His hulking physique the perfect combination of muscle and height. He wore only a black speedo like piece of clothing, with a large red D on the crotch. His rippling pectorals and massive triceps and biceps were perfectly flexed as he menacingly made his way to the center platform. Once he reached the outside of the ring, one of his massive hands gripped the top rope, and he simply leaped seven feet into the air, over the rope and into the inside of the platform. Callion was very impressed, and as he was nodding in respect, the announcer spoke yet again.
“Now then! If you’re ready to face the Big D, line up and get ready to rumbleee!” The last word carried on for around a minute, with the crowd going absolutely mad, as some of them who were wearing masks lined up on the outside of the ring, with the first man entering the ring up under the bottom ring, while The Dominator simply watched the line up with his arms crossed.
What followed after could only be called a massacre. The men who had lined up fell like dominos, as the Dominator was a whirlwind of holds and slams. Callion recoiled at some of the damage the man had done to his fellow Earthlings, before shaking his head and getting up. This was not something he wished to spend the rest of his night doing. This was not the display of fine technique and well-crafted skill he was expecting. This was just a display of senseless violence. Callion had taken quite a while to finally reach the ground as he had seated himself pretty high up, though once he did the announcer’s voice boomed forth yet again.
“Thirty men! Thirty men couldn’t stop the Dominator, but maybe a random member of our crowd can!” One of the spotlights began to swivel wildly, as the crowd began to cheer yet again. Callion didn’t even bother to look as he began making his way to the exit, through the site of his own extended shadow caused him to stop. Something was shining a light on him. Callion turned and had to shield his eyes from the light of the spotlight that was pointed right at him.
“You sir! Get on up here!” The announcer called to Callion, and soon Callion found people clapping and jeering at him, with the jeering being the majority. Suddenly some men in black and white striped shirts swarmed the young warrior, grabbing his arms and dragging him along. One of the men leaned in and whispered to Callion, making sure to get close enough to his ear to be heard.
“What are we gonna call you, kid?”
Callion looked at the man, a little confused, though he did reply, albeit in a jarred voice.
"Uh, Callion?” The referee would look at Callion with an exasperated look on his face, before reaching over to his shirt collar and saying something into it.
“Alright kid, here.” The man said holding out a long piece of cloth. Callion took the cloth and noticed that two holes were cut out of it, at a very short distance from each other. Callion looked to the man a bit confused.
The referee would sigh yet again. “It's a mask, kid, tie it around your head and try to look good out there.” With that last remark and a pat on the back Callion had arrived at the platform. Callion looked around at the jeering crowd, and the mask before sighing.
How do I keep getting into these situations?
Tieing the black mask around his head, Callion felt a bit foolish as he climbed into the square ring.
The announcer’s voice boomed yet again.
“Here he is folks, the man, the legend, the...really? That’s the name he went with?” The Announcer sounded a bit surprised and a little disappointed. “ Good lord. Fine. THE SCALLIOOOOOOON!”
At the mention of his name, a lot of the crowd laughed and continued to jeer at him. Before the laughter could go on any further, the Dominator, who had remained stoic and unmoving thus far, raised a hand and the crowd fell silent. Suddenly the Dominator began to speak, and his voice boomed across the stadium.
“LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING MIDNIGHT MASSACRE, THIS UNLUCKY SAP HAS JUST STEPPED INTO A WHOLE NEW WORLD OF PAIN, AND THE DOMINATOR IS GONNA BE HIS TOUR GUIDE! AND LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING ‘SCALLION’ UNFORTUNATE MASKED FIGHTER, THE BIG D IS GONNA POUND YOU SO HARD YOUR GRANDKIDS OF DUBIOUS EXISTENCE ARE GONNA FEEL IT!”
With that threat, the Dominator lowered his body and spread his arms, while the crowd went into an absolute frenzy, cheering on the Dominator, and jeering his newest challenger. Callion was a bit shocked that he had just been called a sap, and had his grandkids threatened, though Callion didn’t take it to heart since he was still a bit confused as to how he had gotten into this situation. The sound of a bell ringing filled the stadium, and The Dominator lunged!
Dashing forward, The Big D attempted to tackle the young man, though Callion effortlessly leaped over the hulking man, performing a sort of front flip over the man who sped past him and into the stretchy ropes at the edge of the ring. Using that added momentum from the ropes, The Dominator turned himself around at the last moment and ran at the Scallion at an increased speed! Sticking his right arm out to his side, The Big D was about to try and clotheslines when a sharp pain flared in his stomach once he had almost reached his opponent. The air escaped his lungs as he fell to his knees, though he had no idea why. Looking down at his stomach, he spotted the issue. The Scallion’s elbow dug deep into his abdomen, and the impact had the force of The Dominator’s momentum behind it.
The Big D moved away from the man, staggering as he did so, before eventually falling to his knees, with his hands over his stomach.
Callion would turn around and look to his opponent, while the crowd continuously yelled insults and the like at him, although he did hear the request to pin him a few times. Callion shrugged, if he pinned him, maybe the man wouldn’t hurt himself anymore. Rushing forward, the young warrior leaped at the man and forced the man onto his back with a loud thump, Callion laid on top of him, and the crowd chanted in unison.
“One...two...THREE!” At three the crowd flew into the biggest frenzy of all, shouting either abuse or praise at the young warrior. Callion would get up off of the still panting Dominator, looking around at the crowd, before he felt his arm being tugged into the air and held there by the referee from before.
“WINNER!” The announcer shouted, causing one of the spears to spark in protest from the sudden noise. The referee would hand Callion a suitcase of dubious contents and whisper “I’d take the money and run, these people really liked that guy.”
Looking over to the Dominator, Callion heard one last groan, before he made his way out of the square ring, and toward the exit. Once he was outside with his suitcase, Callion shook his head in bewilderment. He had misunderstood the referee’s request to exit the ring, assuming he meant to leave the stadium as opposed to waiting for his next competitor. Opening the suitcase, Callion saw rows upon rows of zeni and shook his one last time.
That was the first and last time The Scallion was ever seen at the Midnight Massacre.
Callion looked at the clipping of the newspaper one more time. The advertisement clearly displayed an address, time to arrive by, and a phone number. Callion had used one of these Earthling pay phones to reach the man who placed the ad, a wealthy man by the name of Pagne. He had requested Callion to clean his windows and in return, he would reward Callion quite handsomely. Callion loved his new gi, and definitely wanted more, so he answered the man’s request hoping that this reward would be at least ten zeni.
Callion looked up at the massive building before him. It was immaculate and pristine, an architectural masterpiece of steel and glass. The morning sunlight reflected off of the innumerable glass windows panes, giving the skyscraper a sort of glowing aura.
Pagne Tower, headquarters or Pagne industries, the leading company in terms of architectural contracting and philanthropy. One of the tallest buildings in Satan City, and debatably, the most well constructed. Its owner Mister Cham Pagne, was a kind old man and master architect, although he was a little bit of a prick with people he didn’t know well. The buildings and monuments he’s designed would be testaments to his skill and legacy. Speaking of Mister Cham Pagne.
The sound of tires crunching over gravel filled Callion’s ears, causing him to turn his head. What he saw was perhaps the longest car Callion had ever seen. Sleek, black, and longer than three Callion’s stacked on top of each other, this was quite the limousine. It stopped in front of the building, and the door at the far back by the rear tires opened, and out stepped Mister Cham Pagne himself.
Tall and lean, the man clearly didn’t let his age show. Despite being almost seventy he didn’t look a day of forty. His slick blond hair, ocean blue eyes, clean white teeth, and perfect complexion, made for quite a handsome figure. His suit, immaculately clean and perfectly tailored to his frame, matched his ocean blue eyes in color while his tie was a bright yellow to match his sunny smile. He approached Callion with a calm swagger that one developed by being well respected and knowing exactly why he was.
“Hello there,” the man said, his voice smooth and rich. He extended a hand out toward Callion, which the young warrior took to shake. Callion was surprised by how firm the grip was, tough he still took care not to squeeze too hard.
“Hello, Mister Cham Pagne. Nice to meet you. I answered your ad,” Callion said, rambling a bit after he released the man’s hand.
“I can see that,” the man said with a grin on his face that made it obvious he wasn't saying that maliciously.
“Now, young man this is going to be a pretty difficult job, but I guarantee the reward will be worth it. I need you to wash the windows of this tower. All of them.”
Callion turned around and looked at the skyscraper yet again, taking note of the hundreds upon hundreds of windows that he saw just on the front facing side of the building. Callion was a lot of things, but he was not a quitter. Clenching his fists, Callion would turn back to Cham.
"Yes sir!” He said with a classic Planet Vegeta salute.
Cham Pagne gave a toothy grin this time. He raised his right hand snapped his fingers. Suddenly three burly men of dark complexion and large build approached exited the limousine and approached Callion while holding out various items. One held a climbing harness and a winch, along with a tool box. Another held a set of glass cleaning supplies. The final man held out a second set of glass cleaning supplies.
Callion looked at them all and took them all at once, his arms full, though the weight didn't seem to be bothering him.
“Good luck, oh and by the way...I need this done by sundown. Heh.” With a small chuckle, Cham and his men re-entered the limo, which pulled away slowly, before turning the street corner and disappearing from Callion’s view.
Callion looked back at the massive building and swallowed, a tiny bit afraid that he wouldn’t make the deadline.
Buck up, soldier! You could do this in your sleep.
With the grating voice of his father in his mind, Callion steeled his resolve. Looking at the sun, Callion figured he had at the most another six hours of sunlight. Plenty of time. Grabbing a spray bottle and wiping apparatus, Callion ignored the harness and winch. He wouldn’t really need it. Raising his energy level, a white aura surrounded Callion as his normally flat hair was once again forced into its unrepressed spiky state. With a slight crack in the ground beneath his feet, Callion rocketed off of the ground and got to work, starting at the top windows, and taking it row by row.
Six hours later…
The familiar black limousine pulled up in front of Pagne Tower, slowing to stop in front of the building’s main entrance. Mister Pagne and his three bodyguards, exited the vehicle, looks of expressions on the burly men’s faces while Mister Pagne had a beaming smile. The radiance of his smile was matched by the shining glow of hundreds upon hundreds of perfectly clean windows reflecting the orange light of sundown.
Pagne looked away from his headquarter’s shining radiance for a moment to thank the man who had performed what he thought would be an impossible task but after searching the entire entrance he couldn’t find the man. Suddenly, the sound of something moving very fast would fill the billionaire’s ears. His bodyguards all placed a hand into their coat pockets, ready to draw their weapons, while Mister looked up toward the source of the sound. What he saw was the man who had answered his ad flying toward him, and the ground. The man expertly landed with a small thud. He dusted himself off and saluted Mister Pagne, a look of humble respect on his face. Mister Pagne let out a chuckle and began to slowly applaud the man.
“I wouldn’t believe it if I weren’t standing before it. A man that can fly, and all my windows were cleaned in,” Mister Pagne raised his arm in front of his chest, and pulled back his sleeve to look at his solid gold watch. “Six hours! Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.”
Callion held his salute as he replied. “Sorry to correct you sir, but I technically got it done in five hours. I had to take an extra hour to get more cleaning supplies.”
Mister Pagne just smiled even wider. “And he’s honest! I like you, son! And a deal’s a deal.” With that, Mister Pagne snapped his fingers, and one of the burly dark-skinned stepped forward with a red leather briefcase. Holding the briefcase in front of Callion, he opened to reveal rows upon rows of ten zeni bills. Callion’s jaw dropped as he looked at the money. He gingerly reached forward and took the briefcase from the man, still staring at the wealth he had acquired. In total, it was too much to count, but Callion had never seen so much of it at once before.
As Callion marveled at the money, Mister Pagne took note of his expression and decided to seize the opportunity.
“You know something kid? You did a really great job here. How would you like to do this once a week every week? I’ll pay you once you get it done, and then you can go on your merry way. What do ya say?” With a kind smile, Mister Pagne extended his hand for Callion to take should he accept the offer.
Callion turned away from the money and looked at the billionaire with hope and wonder in his eyes.
“Deal!” Callion said reaching forward to shake the man’s hand. Once the shake was complete, Callion agreed to come back next week and bid his new employer farewell. Once Callion found a place he could comfortably sit, he looked into his gym bag and took not of the lack of space inside of it. He couldn’t fit all of his food, water, zeni, gis, pens, journal and sword in there.
Callion thought long and hard about what to do before he finally decided to start wearing his blade on his back. Callion had recently started feeling more confident that most of these Earthlings wouldn’t try to kill him, should he look a little out of place.
The Bamboo Forest featured a long winding river, that flowed at a very fast pace. Most locals noted it as the Crimson River due to the red fish that traverse its rapid waters.
Callion walked along the river side, black gym bag hanging off of his shoulder and bulging a bit, as its amount of contents seemed to have swelled a bit. He had returned to the Bamboo Forest, deciding to traverse his old stomping grounds in order to seek out some nostalgic joy. As he walked along, a red fish broke the surface of the fast flowing river, catching the young warrior’s attention. The fish returned to its home beneath the surface, Callion caught a glimpse of his reflection and was a bit startled.
He saw himself, though he looked very different. His new gi made him look more warrior-like, and the blade sheathed on his back certainly added to that image, but what really looked different was his face. Callion used to always have worry lines and black bags beneath but now his face looked as clear as day. As he got down onto his knees, he began to think about his whole time on Earth. A few minutes went by before Callion reached for his gym bag to his right. Unzipping it, he pulled out his brown leather covered journal and one of his red ink pens.
Callion took a moment to look at some of the older pages before he stopped on a blank page and began to write. He noticed that he hadn’t even written ten entries into this journal, yet he’d experienced so much. He was beaten up by a purple man, he had slept in a mansion, and fought tiny robots. He met a human who didn’t care that he was a Saiyan, and fought a giant lizard with him. He had discovered that he looked really nice with glasses, and looked even nicer in gis. He had discovered how good he was at washing windows, and the value of currency.
Smiling at the nostalgia he was experiencing, Callion began to write in the journal with his usual messy Saiyan handwriting.
Callion’s Log. Entry 9.
My time on this planet has been nothing a series of random occurrences, thus far. Some of these experiences have been rather unpleasant like the fight with that Acorsian fellow, while some have been an honest joy to be a part of, such as meeting Mister Hazerru! I’m not entirely sure how long I’ve been on this planet as everything up until I met Mister Yada is a bit of a blur, but past that I recall every detail. I have done things that have made me feel better than I have ever felt before, like acquiring these nice new clothes, or when I shook Mister Hazerru’s hand. I’ve done things that
Callion paused in his scrawling as he recalled the incident with that woman that challenged him to a duel. His eyebrows scrunched together as a frown came over his face, but he put the thought aside and continued his writing.
have made me question my self-worth, and what exactly I am doing on this planet. But I have noticed a consistent theme with these encounters. I have taken away an important lesson from each of them. And through these lessons, I believe I have forged a new way of thinking, so that I may continue on the road ahead with a new perspective. I learned that not everyone will expect me to be a violent animal. I learned that at certain times you should know when you’ve helped someone enough. I have discovered that kindness can come from any source and that it should not be taken advantage of. I have learned so many things in such a short time that I feel as though I
Callion put his pen down for a moment and reached into his still open gym bag. The sound of crinkling plastic and paper could be heard in the immediate area as he rustled around. Once his hand felt the touch of plastic, he would grip it and pull out one of his wrapped sandwiches. Unwrapping it, with the sound of crinkling following him as he did so, he would take a bite of the slab of meat that sat between two pieces of bread that he called a “sandwich.” He ate fro a few minutes, watching the river flow down the stream and the occasional red fish go by. Once the sandwich was complete, Callion would place the plastic back into his bag. He would pick his pen back up and continue to write, his belly full.
have aged for years in a matter of weeks.
I am still ignorant in terms of social procedures and when and when not to take things seriously, but this experience on Earth has taught me that with time, I will improve in those fields as well. Though I am starting to realize that perhaps it is not the planet I am on, but rather the people I have come into contact with. I could have met people like them on Vegeta or perhaps even on that hellish planet, or anywhere really. The Earth was just where I happened to be at the time. Maybe I was destined to be on this planet, or maybe I was just in the right place at the right time. Regardless. I don’t regret a thing.
With that, Callion shut the journal, and returned both it and the pen to his gym bag, zipping it up. The young warrior would then look at the river, staring at its waters and the fish who swam by every now and again. The sunlight reflected pleasantly off of the water, creating a serene image. The sound of rustling stalks of bamboo calmed Callion’s nerves. He sat there for hours on end, before he finally fell asleep by his bag.
The Forest allowed him a peaceful rest.
This man was named Quito Slasa. He was a proud father of three and happily married to his high school sweetheart, Burrita. Quito had been going through a bit of a mid-life crisis since he had turned thirty-eight. Instead of leaving his wife and kids and finding himself a new spark, Quito did the sensible thing.He bought a fast new car, along with a nice leather jacket. Every day after work at his boring office job, Quito would speed around like he did during the days of his youth. A smile always came over his face as he felt the smooth ground pass beneath the car’s tires.
His favorite part of this route was coming up. A very long and sharp turn.He had done it hundreds of time since he started this tradition. The sheer adrenaline that pumped through Quito as he did performed the turn set him alight with joy.
As he ascended up the side of the mountain road, he spotted the familiar signs that the road showed to signify a dangerous turn.
Here it comes!
Quito placed his other hand on the wheel and gripped it tight. He was beyond thrilled! This was what he lived for! Approaching his turn, Quito put a foot on the brakes, not applying pressure just yet. His hands gripped the wheels so hard his knuckles turned white.
As he spotted the bend in the road's path, he quickly turned the wheel to the left. Or rather attempted to. Something was off. The wheel remained stuck in place. Perhaps the car had been damaged somehow, but that didn’t matter very much right now. He was driving so fast that by the time his foot had slammed on the breaks he had already cleared the edge of the cliff. Time seemed to slow down, as he continued to travel forward, before he began his inevitable descent toward the ground, some fifty or sixty feet below.
Quito felt a rush of emotions in a matter of seconds. Panic, terror, sadness, and then acceptance. As he continued to fall toward the ground, Quito closed his eyes and thought hard about his family. His beautiful wife Burrita, with her ebony hair and cute smile. His twin daughters Quesa and Diya, both of which would grow into beautiful women who would lovingly raise happy families. And finally, he thought of his son Acato. He would have to step up as the man of the house when the time came. He was only thirteen now, so he still had time to enjoy his youth. Though that may have to take a backseat now that his father was about to die.
Quito, eyes still shut tight, prayed to any deity that could hear him, to allow his family a full and happy life with his absence, and to let their grieving pass with no lasting damage to their mental, physical or emotional health. Then, Quito cleared his head and waited for Death to come with a smile on his face, as he thought of the people he loved.
One minute, two minutes, three whole minutes passed with no change in Quito’s mental state. If this was Death, it felt remarkably similar to life. Cracking open an eye, Quito’s other one quickly followed after since the sight before him was unbelievable.The familiar blue of the morning sky, though it was not only remaining at the same level with no changes in altitude, it was also racing past him, as if he had suddenly picked up speed. Quito quickly unclipped his seatbelt and stuck his head and shoulders out of his open window.
The speeding air resistance set Quito’s into a frenzy, but this was incredible! His car was remaining suspended in the air of its own volition. This was a whole new kind of rush!
“Wooohoooo!” Quito shouted, pumping a fist into the air, although once the exclamation disappeared into the roaring wind, the car began to slowly decline in altitude, though this was different from a free fall. This was a gentle drop.
The car would eventually stop in its entirety still about six feet in the air. Then the car lurched forward, and slid down the rest of the way its tires gently returning to the soft sandy Earth of the forest floor.
Once the car was safely on the ground, Quito quickly opened the door and almost fell over rushing out of the car. Looking around, he spotted an odd site.
A young man, who looked to be in his earlier twenties or late teens, with ebony hair that was made flat with what Quito could only assume to be copious amounts of gel. This young man;s skin was tan, though his body was covered by what looked to be a sleeveless, red and black martial arts gi. On his shoulder was a pitch black gym bag.
Quito was very confused as to what this man was doing here, but he was no fool. He was aware that the world contained spectacular beings, and he had a gut feeling that he had just encountered one of them.
The young man would give Quito a smile and say “Are you alri-” but was stopped by Quito grabbing him and pulling him into a bear hug.
“Thank you so much! Thank you so so so much, my friend,” Quito said his accent a little thick due to the emotion welling up inside of him. The relief and shock were beginning to kick in. Quito felt the young man’s hands pat him on the back in awkward reassurance.
“You are welcome,” the young man said in reply, sounding a bit confused.
With that, Quito quickly let the man go and rushed over to the backseat of his car.
“I have to reward you for this, my friend and then I have a request of you.” Quito began to smile as he rustled through his backseat, with an “Aha!” coming from him once he had retrieved what he was searching for. A small stack of zeni wrapped with a pink rubber band. Quito approached the young man, and took one of his hands, putting the zeni into it with his other.
“Take this, please. I owe you my life, and I don’t think any amount of zeni will ever pay you back for what you just did for me. My name is Quito Slasa. What’s yours?”
The young man looked down at the zeni and seemed to have some sort of mental argument with himself by the way his eyes kept shifting and he quietly muttered to himself, before he finally took the money and pocketed it. The young man’s black eyes met Quito’s simple browns as he asked his next question. “My name is Callion. What is your request?”
Quito gave the man a sly grin. “Do you think you could fly me home?”
Satan City was a much different place at night. Dark clouds drifted eerily across the night sky. The tall skyscrapers, traditionally a monument to the ingenuity of mankind, now cast dark shadows over the city, turning the night-time metropolis atmosphere into something a tad more sinister. This was also that time of night that many shady activities began to take place. In the center of these activities was where Callion, the young warrior from another world, had found himself.
This stadium was quite vast, probably around a hundred feet or two in diameter. Completely submerged underground, a plethora of spotlights and ceiling rigs were set up around the battleground. Hundreds of red leather seats made up the outer square, almost all of the seats being in a state of disrepair due to constant use by rather aggressive showgoers. The center of the stadium held a square platform, about ten feet in any direction, and with ropes tied along the edges of it. The platform was about four feet off of the ground. Inside of this roped off platforms, two very muscular men were wrestling quite fiercely, the effort and strain evident on their faces even from Callion's distance.
Hundreds of different inhabitants of Earth shouted in either approval or displeasure. From upper-class humans to lower class zoanthropes, Callion saw people from all different walks of life, though one thing he took note of was that the entire attendance seemed to only consist of Human or Zoanthrope kind. Callion had managed to infiltrate this place due to his skill in passing as a human. Callion's tail sat comfortably within his waistband, completely invisible to any outside eyes.
The only thing keeping the fighters inside was the ring of ropes on each side of the square, and one of the two poor saps had just tossed the other over them and onto the hard stone floor! Callion shook his head before the crowd suddenly began to quiet down. Speakers situated around the massive stadium practically burst with noise as they projected the deep voice of a hidden announcer.
"Ladieeeeeees aaaaand gentlemen, welcome to the Midnight Massacre! Home to some of the nastiest wrestlers Satan City's underground have even born witness to. Now, as per tradition, it's time for everyone's favorite weekly bloodbath!"
Once the man had finished speaking for the moment, almost everyone in the underground stadium simultaneously shouted "THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE!"
That does not sound very pleasant.
Callion's distaste with this whole spectacle would reach even greater heights, unbeknownst to him. The announcer's voice exploded from the speaker's yet again.
"That's right folks! Everyone's favorite gauntlet of pain is back on the chopping block. Which one of you sorry saps is willing to go toe to toe with the fiercest man in the Eastern Lands, for the cash grand prize?"
As the man finished his offer, every light in the stadium would go out at once, with only a three spotlights casting their rays on the center platform, and a fourth illuminating a curtain on the only side of the stadium with no seats for the audience. Suddenly, Callion heard a cacophony of awful noises, which sent the Humans in the crowd into a frenzy of delight.
"Heeeeere he is folks," The announcer's voice was heard over the rock music that was playing. "The man, the mountain, the breaker of bones and wills to live!THE DOMINATOOOOOOOOOR!"
The man that emerged from the curtain was massive. He must’ve been a bit over seven feet tall His hulking physique the perfect combination of muscle and height. He wore only a black speedo like piece of clothing, with a large red D on the crotch. His rippling pectorals and massive triceps and biceps were perfectly flexed as he menacingly made his way to the center platform. Once he reached the outside of the ring, one of his massive hands gripped the top rope, and he simply leaped seven feet into the air, over the rope and into the inside of the platform. Callion was very impressed, and as he was nodding in respect, the announcer spoke yet again.
“Now then! If you’re ready to face the Big D, line up and get ready to rumbleee!” The last word carried on for around a minute, with the crowd going absolutely mad, as some of them who were wearing masks lined up on the outside of the ring, with the first man entering the ring up under the bottom ring, while The Dominator simply watched the line up with his arms crossed.
What followed after could only be called a massacre. The men who had lined up fell like dominos, as the Dominator was a whirlwind of holds and slams. Callion recoiled at some of the damage the man had done to his fellow Earthlings, before shaking his head and getting up. This was not something he wished to spend the rest of his night doing. This was not the display of fine technique and well-crafted skill he was expecting. This was just a display of senseless violence. Callion had taken quite a while to finally reach the ground as he had seated himself pretty high up, though once he did the announcer’s voice boomed forth yet again.
“Thirty men! Thirty men couldn’t stop the Dominator, but maybe a random member of our crowd can!” One of the spotlights began to swivel wildly, as the crowd began to cheer yet again. Callion didn’t even bother to look as he began making his way to the exit, through the site of his own extended shadow caused him to stop. Something was shining a light on him. Callion turned and had to shield his eyes from the light of the spotlight that was pointed right at him.
“You sir! Get on up here!” The announcer called to Callion, and soon Callion found people clapping and jeering at him, with the jeering being the majority. Suddenly some men in black and white striped shirts swarmed the young warrior, grabbing his arms and dragging him along. One of the men leaned in and whispered to Callion, making sure to get close enough to his ear to be heard.
“What are we gonna call you, kid?”
Callion looked at the man, a little confused, though he did reply, albeit in a jarred voice.
"Uh, Callion?” The referee would look at Callion with an exasperated look on his face, before reaching over to his shirt collar and saying something into it.
“Alright kid, here.” The man said holding out a long piece of cloth. Callion took the cloth and noticed that two holes were cut out of it, at a very short distance from each other. Callion looked to the man a bit confused.
The referee would sigh yet again. “It's a mask, kid, tie it around your head and try to look good out there.” With that last remark and a pat on the back Callion had arrived at the platform. Callion looked around at the jeering crowd, and the mask before sighing.
How do I keep getting into these situations?
Tieing the black mask around his head, Callion felt a bit foolish as he climbed into the square ring.
The announcer’s voice boomed yet again.
“Here he is folks, the man, the legend, the...really? That’s the name he went with?” The Announcer sounded a bit surprised and a little disappointed. “ Good lord. Fine. THE SCALLIOOOOOOON!”
At the mention of his name, a lot of the crowd laughed and continued to jeer at him. Before the laughter could go on any further, the Dominator, who had remained stoic and unmoving thus far, raised a hand and the crowd fell silent. Suddenly the Dominator began to speak, and his voice boomed across the stadium.
“LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING MIDNIGHT MASSACRE, THIS UNLUCKY SAP HAS JUST STEPPED INTO A WHOLE NEW WORLD OF PAIN, AND THE DOMINATOR IS GONNA BE HIS TOUR GUIDE! AND LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING ‘SCALLION’ UNFORTUNATE MASKED FIGHTER, THE BIG D IS GONNA POUND YOU SO HARD YOUR GRANDKIDS OF DUBIOUS EXISTENCE ARE GONNA FEEL IT!”
With that threat, the Dominator lowered his body and spread his arms, while the crowd went into an absolute frenzy, cheering on the Dominator, and jeering his newest challenger. Callion was a bit shocked that he had just been called a sap, and had his grandkids threatened, though Callion didn’t take it to heart since he was still a bit confused as to how he had gotten into this situation. The sound of a bell ringing filled the stadium, and The Dominator lunged!
Dashing forward, The Big D attempted to tackle the young man, though Callion effortlessly leaped over the hulking man, performing a sort of front flip over the man who sped past him and into the stretchy ropes at the edge of the ring. Using that added momentum from the ropes, The Dominator turned himself around at the last moment and ran at the Scallion at an increased speed! Sticking his right arm out to his side, The Big D was about to try and clotheslines when a sharp pain flared in his stomach once he had almost reached his opponent. The air escaped his lungs as he fell to his knees, though he had no idea why. Looking down at his stomach, he spotted the issue. The Scallion’s elbow dug deep into his abdomen, and the impact had the force of The Dominator’s momentum behind it.
The Big D moved away from the man, staggering as he did so, before eventually falling to his knees, with his hands over his stomach.
Callion would turn around and look to his opponent, while the crowd continuously yelled insults and the like at him, although he did hear the request to pin him a few times. Callion shrugged, if he pinned him, maybe the man wouldn’t hurt himself anymore. Rushing forward, the young warrior leaped at the man and forced the man onto his back with a loud thump, Callion laid on top of him, and the crowd chanted in unison.
“One...two...THREE!” At three the crowd flew into the biggest frenzy of all, shouting either abuse or praise at the young warrior. Callion would get up off of the still panting Dominator, looking around at the crowd, before he felt his arm being tugged into the air and held there by the referee from before.
“WINNER!” The announcer shouted, causing one of the spears to spark in protest from the sudden noise. The referee would hand Callion a suitcase of dubious contents and whisper “I’d take the money and run, these people really liked that guy.”
Looking over to the Dominator, Callion heard one last groan, before he made his way out of the square ring, and toward the exit. Once he was outside with his suitcase, Callion shook his head in bewilderment. He had misunderstood the referee’s request to exit the ring, assuming he meant to leave the stadium as opposed to waiting for his next competitor. Opening the suitcase, Callion saw rows upon rows of zeni and shook his one last time.
That was the first and last time The Scallion was ever seen at the Midnight Massacre.
Callion looked at the clipping of the newspaper one more time. The advertisement clearly displayed an address, time to arrive by, and a phone number. Callion had used one of these Earthling pay phones to reach the man who placed the ad, a wealthy man by the name of Pagne. He had requested Callion to clean his windows and in return, he would reward Callion quite handsomely. Callion loved his new gi, and definitely wanted more, so he answered the man’s request hoping that this reward would be at least ten zeni.
Callion looked up at the massive building before him. It was immaculate and pristine, an architectural masterpiece of steel and glass. The morning sunlight reflected off of the innumerable glass windows panes, giving the skyscraper a sort of glowing aura.
Pagne Tower, headquarters or Pagne industries, the leading company in terms of architectural contracting and philanthropy. One of the tallest buildings in Satan City, and debatably, the most well constructed. Its owner Mister Cham Pagne, was a kind old man and master architect, although he was a little bit of a prick with people he didn’t know well. The buildings and monuments he’s designed would be testaments to his skill and legacy. Speaking of Mister Cham Pagne.
The sound of tires crunching over gravel filled Callion’s ears, causing him to turn his head. What he saw was perhaps the longest car Callion had ever seen. Sleek, black, and longer than three Callion’s stacked on top of each other, this was quite the limousine. It stopped in front of the building, and the door at the far back by the rear tires opened, and out stepped Mister Cham Pagne himself.
Tall and lean, the man clearly didn’t let his age show. Despite being almost seventy he didn’t look a day of forty. His slick blond hair, ocean blue eyes, clean white teeth, and perfect complexion, made for quite a handsome figure. His suit, immaculately clean and perfectly tailored to his frame, matched his ocean blue eyes in color while his tie was a bright yellow to match his sunny smile. He approached Callion with a calm swagger that one developed by being well respected and knowing exactly why he was.
“Hello there,” the man said, his voice smooth and rich. He extended a hand out toward Callion, which the young warrior took to shake. Callion was surprised by how firm the grip was, tough he still took care not to squeeze too hard.
“Hello, Mister Cham Pagne. Nice to meet you. I answered your ad,” Callion said, rambling a bit after he released the man’s hand.
“I can see that,” the man said with a grin on his face that made it obvious he wasn't saying that maliciously.
“Now, young man this is going to be a pretty difficult job, but I guarantee the reward will be worth it. I need you to wash the windows of this tower. All of them.”
Callion turned around and looked at the skyscraper yet again, taking note of the hundreds upon hundreds of windows that he saw just on the front facing side of the building. Callion was a lot of things, but he was not a quitter. Clenching his fists, Callion would turn back to Cham.
"Yes sir!” He said with a classic Planet Vegeta salute.
Cham Pagne gave a toothy grin this time. He raised his right hand snapped his fingers. Suddenly three burly men of dark complexion and large build approached exited the limousine and approached Callion while holding out various items. One held a climbing harness and a winch, along with a tool box. Another held a set of glass cleaning supplies. The final man held out a second set of glass cleaning supplies.
Callion looked at them all and took them all at once, his arms full, though the weight didn't seem to be bothering him.
“Good luck, oh and by the way...I need this done by sundown. Heh.” With a small chuckle, Cham and his men re-entered the limo, which pulled away slowly, before turning the street corner and disappearing from Callion’s view.
Callion looked back at the massive building and swallowed, a tiny bit afraid that he wouldn’t make the deadline.
Buck up, soldier! You could do this in your sleep.
With the grating voice of his father in his mind, Callion steeled his resolve. Looking at the sun, Callion figured he had at the most another six hours of sunlight. Plenty of time. Grabbing a spray bottle and wiping apparatus, Callion ignored the harness and winch. He wouldn’t really need it. Raising his energy level, a white aura surrounded Callion as his normally flat hair was once again forced into its unrepressed spiky state. With a slight crack in the ground beneath his feet, Callion rocketed off of the ground and got to work, starting at the top windows, and taking it row by row.
Six hours later…
The familiar black limousine pulled up in front of Pagne Tower, slowing to stop in front of the building’s main entrance. Mister Pagne and his three bodyguards, exited the vehicle, looks of expressions on the burly men’s faces while Mister Pagne had a beaming smile. The radiance of his smile was matched by the shining glow of hundreds upon hundreds of perfectly clean windows reflecting the orange light of sundown.
Pagne looked away from his headquarter’s shining radiance for a moment to thank the man who had performed what he thought would be an impossible task but after searching the entire entrance he couldn’t find the man. Suddenly, the sound of something moving very fast would fill the billionaire’s ears. His bodyguards all placed a hand into their coat pockets, ready to draw their weapons, while Mister looked up toward the source of the sound. What he saw was the man who had answered his ad flying toward him, and the ground. The man expertly landed with a small thud. He dusted himself off and saluted Mister Pagne, a look of humble respect on his face. Mister Pagne let out a chuckle and began to slowly applaud the man.
“I wouldn’t believe it if I weren’t standing before it. A man that can fly, and all my windows were cleaned in,” Mister Pagne raised his arm in front of his chest, and pulled back his sleeve to look at his solid gold watch. “Six hours! Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.”
Callion held his salute as he replied. “Sorry to correct you sir, but I technically got it done in five hours. I had to take an extra hour to get more cleaning supplies.”
Mister Pagne just smiled even wider. “And he’s honest! I like you, son! And a deal’s a deal.” With that, Mister Pagne snapped his fingers, and one of the burly dark-skinned stepped forward with a red leather briefcase. Holding the briefcase in front of Callion, he opened to reveal rows upon rows of ten zeni bills. Callion’s jaw dropped as he looked at the money. He gingerly reached forward and took the briefcase from the man, still staring at the wealth he had acquired. In total, it was too much to count, but Callion had never seen so much of it at once before.
As Callion marveled at the money, Mister Pagne took note of his expression and decided to seize the opportunity.
“You know something kid? You did a really great job here. How would you like to do this once a week every week? I’ll pay you once you get it done, and then you can go on your merry way. What do ya say?” With a kind smile, Mister Pagne extended his hand for Callion to take should he accept the offer.
Callion turned away from the money and looked at the billionaire with hope and wonder in his eyes.
“Deal!” Callion said reaching forward to shake the man’s hand. Once the shake was complete, Callion agreed to come back next week and bid his new employer farewell. Once Callion found a place he could comfortably sit, he looked into his gym bag and took not of the lack of space inside of it. He couldn’t fit all of his food, water, zeni, gis, pens, journal and sword in there.
Callion thought long and hard about what to do before he finally decided to start wearing his blade on his back. Callion had recently started feeling more confident that most of these Earthlings wouldn’t try to kill him, should he look a little out of place.
The Bamboo Forest featured a long winding river, that flowed at a very fast pace. Most locals noted it as the Crimson River due to the red fish that traverse its rapid waters.
Callion walked along the river side, black gym bag hanging off of his shoulder and bulging a bit, as its amount of contents seemed to have swelled a bit. He had returned to the Bamboo Forest, deciding to traverse his old stomping grounds in order to seek out some nostalgic joy. As he walked along, a red fish broke the surface of the fast flowing river, catching the young warrior’s attention. The fish returned to its home beneath the surface, Callion caught a glimpse of his reflection and was a bit startled.
He saw himself, though he looked very different. His new gi made him look more warrior-like, and the blade sheathed on his back certainly added to that image, but what really looked different was his face. Callion used to always have worry lines and black bags beneath but now his face looked as clear as day. As he got down onto his knees, he began to think about his whole time on Earth. A few minutes went by before Callion reached for his gym bag to his right. Unzipping it, he pulled out his brown leather covered journal and one of his red ink pens.
Callion took a moment to look at some of the older pages before he stopped on a blank page and began to write. He noticed that he hadn’t even written ten entries into this journal, yet he’d experienced so much. He was beaten up by a purple man, he had slept in a mansion, and fought tiny robots. He met a human who didn’t care that he was a Saiyan, and fought a giant lizard with him. He had discovered that he looked really nice with glasses, and looked even nicer in gis. He had discovered how good he was at washing windows, and the value of currency.
Smiling at the nostalgia he was experiencing, Callion began to write in the journal with his usual messy Saiyan handwriting.
Callion’s Log. Entry 9.
My time on this planet has been nothing a series of random occurrences, thus far. Some of these experiences have been rather unpleasant like the fight with that Acorsian fellow, while some have been an honest joy to be a part of, such as meeting Mister Hazerru! I’m not entirely sure how long I’ve been on this planet as everything up until I met Mister Yada is a bit of a blur, but past that I recall every detail. I have done things that have made me feel better than I have ever felt before, like acquiring these nice new clothes, or when I shook Mister Hazerru’s hand. I’ve done things that
Callion paused in his scrawling as he recalled the incident with that woman that challenged him to a duel. His eyebrows scrunched together as a frown came over his face, but he put the thought aside and continued his writing.
have made me question my self-worth, and what exactly I am doing on this planet. But I have noticed a consistent theme with these encounters. I have taken away an important lesson from each of them. And through these lessons, I believe I have forged a new way of thinking, so that I may continue on the road ahead with a new perspective. I learned that not everyone will expect me to be a violent animal. I learned that at certain times you should know when you’ve helped someone enough. I have discovered that kindness can come from any source and that it should not be taken advantage of. I have learned so many things in such a short time that I feel as though I
Callion put his pen down for a moment and reached into his still open gym bag. The sound of crinkling plastic and paper could be heard in the immediate area as he rustled around. Once his hand felt the touch of plastic, he would grip it and pull out one of his wrapped sandwiches. Unwrapping it, with the sound of crinkling following him as he did so, he would take a bite of the slab of meat that sat between two pieces of bread that he called a “sandwich.” He ate fro a few minutes, watching the river flow down the stream and the occasional red fish go by. Once the sandwich was complete, Callion would place the plastic back into his bag. He would pick his pen back up and continue to write, his belly full.
have aged for years in a matter of weeks.
I am still ignorant in terms of social procedures and when and when not to take things seriously, but this experience on Earth has taught me that with time, I will improve in those fields as well. Though I am starting to realize that perhaps it is not the planet I am on, but rather the people I have come into contact with. I could have met people like them on Vegeta or perhaps even on that hellish planet, or anywhere really. The Earth was just where I happened to be at the time. Maybe I was destined to be on this planet, or maybe I was just in the right place at the right time. Regardless. I don’t regret a thing.
With that, Callion shut the journal, and returned both it and the pen to his gym bag, zipping it up. The young warrior would then look at the river, staring at its waters and the fish who swam by every now and again. The sunlight reflected pleasantly off of the water, creating a serene image. The sound of rustling stalks of bamboo calmed Callion’s nerves. He sat there for hours on end, before he finally fell asleep by his bag.
The Forest allowed him a peaceful rest.