Finally drew my boys together and it was a lot of fun! ✨
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@fxsiondxnce
Finally drew my boys together and it was a lot of fun! ✨
fxsiondxnce
The handshake is not lost on him, nor the compliment? He ignores the latter part mostly as he takes his hand back once the gesture is complete, a slight shake of his head as if dismissal at the earlier suggestion. He knew…complex techniques that normal people wouldn’t be able to pull off if at all, except for one other.
“Your…assumption is correct, given the fact I decked both your father and Vegeta upon my first moments of life. Though maybe they should have expected it given the fact I’m usually only in creation for fighting, thought I was brought to fight. Fled shortly after realizing the gist of everything.” One hand rests crossed over his chest, the other balancing on it but making slight expressive gestures since his facial expression hasn’t changed from stone cold.
“If…it is fine with you. Perhaps this location may be kept secret?”
“ I guess that’s a fair reaction, ” Gohan replied upon hearing the description of the fusion’s first moments as his own being. The pair of Saiyans might have been lucky he didn’t kill them. Gogeta didn’t seem to have the temperament for such, and the hybrid was glad he spared them despite his clear annoyance. “ It…is a little disrespectful in some ways. I’m sure it’s nice for you to be alive with a chance to live your own life, but hearing their reason probably wasn’t all that…flattering. ”
In some ways, Gohan was surprised Gogeta would take that so personal. As separate entities, he didn’t see his father or Vegeta being put off by being brought to life for the sole purpose of serving as someone’s training partner. Then again, he could see Vegeta considering it an insult and a waste of his time to be wished back my someone weaker then him for training purposes. Perhaps that was close to Gogeta’s reasoning, too.
" O-oh! Of course! I didn’t plan to tell anyone, anyway. I…don’t really have a reason to. “ He smiled. ” Your secret’s safe with me. “
To have life thrust into his grasp. It felt like he was a backup. But it was also a spit in the face. Life. Something he’d once craved when he’d been gifted existence for a moment. To walk around as Hell slowly restored itself. To feel the crisp air rush through his lungs, to feel the way his body moved. To be able to hear his own heartbeat. To have the ability to do so much and then it faded. Only to come into existence once more. Again. The dismissed once more. So much...so much had happened and now? He’s here. Actually here. Able to breath. The reason they brought him to life? They’d never catch up. He’d leave them all in the dust, not because he had to but because it was inevitable. He’d continue to grow in strength. But he’d like to not be pestered by them either way. Patience is an option, as was his mercy afterall. But he only has fondness for the being in front of him. Gohan was a good person. Memories not his own chimed about it and he shoo’s them away to the depths once more. But he also knows the boys smart well beyond his own years. Perhaps he could answer some questions he had. Arms crossing over his chest once more. “I’ve questions if you don’t mind attempting to give me some insight. I’ve not much to go off of besides their memories after all. There’s so much about this world to discover...but I’d rather have an idea of how to survive before jumping into the waters full of sharks if you catch what I mean.” A faint tug at the corner of his lips, just barely a smile. Was that not quite the saying to say in this scenario?
“One chance. Get out of the way.”
Trying to get muse energy back for Gogeta. I’m sorry its taking me so long.
Yeah no he still hates it.
i’ve been αℓσиє for so long that having 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 around is a little
overwhelming
go on. UNDERESTIMATE ME.
fxsiondxnce:
Why…
Why were they helping….
This wasn’t their world and yet…Still…
His mind struggles, the pure energy that burns against the acidic one, he wasn’t his mind, not his DNA, nor his spirit. Everything feels wrong as he can feel the general sense of coming apart at the seams, their voices are faint before the world crashes, his body crashes because he doesn’t follow with the motion and it hurts, everything crashes and the demon breaks free, practically vanishing with how fast he moves away, steaming mad but much more cautious.
Knocked back into the one offering the bean in the first place, he barely catches himself before the impact could be damaging, a mere displacement as he quickly moves forward a bit, given circumstances understandable as he gazes over at the other, a raised brow before frowning, his lips ever slightly part as if to argue, until a faint glisten in his eyes, casting a gaze once more to the demon who’s leering at them, steam escaping the corner of his gritted teeth. The spark of red fades for blonde, forced back into his natural state as he takes the bean, and it feels like a segment of him becomes whole.
Deep lacerations and bruises slowly heal, yet serious burns slowly pale, horrid reminders and clearly something beyond the healing capabilities of the senzu bean, though it doesn’t stop the explosion of pure power, the air revitalized, it feels like there isn’t ashes scattered around, the thick feeling of ki that wanted to suffocates fades slightly in favor of a sense of fresh air.
Eyes aglow as he ascends the levels rapidly, electricity crackling through his frame before ascending to the vile blue, a slight flash of disgust over his face for the form. He’d only done it once before, learned it before his capture but hadn’t been able to tap into it properly, now. He had an ocean of ki at his disposal, it felt…he felt alive again. More than he had in so long. But that blue gaze settles on the one besides him, before a hand raises, only to place itself on the man’s shoulder, the flash of sharp canines in a slight smile.
“Your a good man.”
The comment is delivered with truth, honesty that is a rarity before he takes his hand, smacking a ki blast down into the ground below before surging forward, initiating a heavily one sided fight, but he’s holding back. At each contact the vile ki is slowly disappearing, the demon becoming more desperate until he’s sent crashing out of sight, the sounds alone suggest a brutal battle that is covered by smoke. However when the radiant frame of blue returns into sight, there’s a large orb of vile ki in his grasp, slowly pushing it together as his own is combating it, clearly the demon had tried to switch and was now regretting it. Being purified point blank with the force of a soul punisher right inside of it.
The demon soul perishes, the link severed the Potara warriors body drops quickly, until it’s grabbed onto. His grasp gentle, before slowly moving to place the body down to the side, turning his gaze skywards as he narrows his eyes, noting the sky darkening. Usually what happens when the tear begins to open again, another wave would be coming soon unless he got up there and got rid of the device. He’d never been enough before, but maybe…
His gaze lands on the two, their own energies are flickering, compared to his that’s overflowing in waves through the area. He gazes back and forth between them before he beckons them over. “Get over before the wave descends. We’ve got maybe five minutes.”
Thrown backward from the sheer force of furry Gogeta not imploding, Vegetto finds himself with an unwilling tagalong. The fusion of the hour himself and seemingly, he’s a little rattled. Whether it be from the aftershocks of not expelling so much ki at once or from Vegetto’s words, he isn’t certain. What he does know is the hairy hide sheds – literally – and the usual for of the dance fusion he knows too well remains. There are differences, height and mass being most notable. Plus, this one hasn’t regarded him like something horrid he’s stepped in yet. And –
“Uh, you’re welcome,” Vegetto says, utterly stunned at his help not only being accepted, but essentially being thanked for the bean. The other Gogeta’s own bean that he was just returning. So weird. “Anytime.”
His Gogeta snorts, a rapid relief of air that can pass as clearing an irritated nose. Vegetto knows otherwise, teal eyes drawn up to where he lingers. Disapproval radiates from the one illuminated in red, but something else lurks beneath the obvious… shock. For what, he doesn’t have the time to discover, but it’s enough that any aggression towards him has been temporarily quelled. An odd mismatch of fusions pushed to become a team – what next, floating mountains of ice cream?
Psh, if only.
“Stay back,” the Gogeta he knows commands, absently hovering closer when the other Gogeta takes off again. Straight back to fighting the demon that appears to be on this last legs. There must be something with his particular dance fusion that contrasts with the hellish entity. It explains how he pummeled the guy easier than the two of them loitering behind. It doesn’t matter either way, Vegetto’s job is done. No fatalities followed and there’s still a chance. Of what, he, once again, doesn’t know.
“He’s… otherworldly,” Gogeta muses absently, shedding the worrisome red form for basic Super. “This other dance fusion, he was not made the same way I was. He doesn’t feel…”
“Alive?” Vegetto finishes, dragging now teal eyes to his form to question him suspiciously. Unable to withhold the amused laugh, he shakes his head slowly, wincing at the vague pounding starting at the base of his skull. “Can’t ya feel it? His energy’s all weird ‘n shit. Plus fightin’ demons? Yeah, definitely not from our plain ol’ mortal plain.” When the incredulous stare comes, Vegetto laughs honestly. “I’m not always an oblivious meathead. I do have Vegeta in me too, y’know?”
“It’s rarely seen,” Gogeta comments snidely, uncomfortable with the absurd show of comradery between them. The temporary truce formed between them isn’t indefinite. Once it’s over, he’ll resume his previous path of eradicating the nuisance. “Now hush, you’re grating on my last nerve.”
“Don’t I always?” comes the cheery reply, Vegetto avoiding any retaliation by floating down to where the other Gogeta calls out to them.
The battle is over, other Gogeta the victor. Astounding as it was, there are some facts Vegetto can’t comprehend. For one, why is the world in ruin? Two, how did a version of him – have you met him? – get so corrupted? Three… why is he having trouble straying far from this mystery fusion that compliments him?
“Wave? Five minutes?” Vegetto parrots as he lands nearby, curiously watching over the comatose not-him in case he pops back up suddenly. “Sorry to disappoint ya, but I’m gonna need more than five to recover. Ya can thank His Royal Grumpyass over there for that. Chasin’ me so much I’m startin’ to think he’s my number one fan.” The cheekiest grin spreads across Vegetto’s face, both hands planted on his hips. “Not plannin’ on joinin’ him since ya look so alike, are ya? My heart can only take so much excitement.”
In the background, Gogeta simmers. One day soon, he’s going to enjoy planting his fist in that obnoxious face. He’ll enjoy it exponentially.
"....The though of hunting another who can empathize with is not tempting." He mutters in response to what the other potara warrior, Vegito remains comatose nearby, his energy is free of what had been however the fears wouldn't fade anytime soon. No doubt the trauma wouldn't either. He can break apart later, when there's no prying eyes, when he breaks away from everything and restores this world. THEN he can scream about the injustice.
Though their gazes of stupor are not missed as he gazes at both, frowning for a moment.
"Created in moments of desire, of hope, nessecity...bloodlust. destruction. You are a warrior, of who? Yourself or them. What is you. What is them? Where does that line end. You've taken the place of two men with families. Lives of their own. Yet...you begin to wonder. Are you not allowed life as well...or are you cursed to a limit...or a risk." He places the same thoughts he'd had before them. Frowning slightly before he then gestures to the sky as it cracks open, a black smoke filtering out from the crack in the sky, accompanied by the faint structure of something hellish in design, like a structure point before he lets his own power ripple outwards.
Like a river it flows, this feels like dipping your hand into a flowing stream that remains at a faintly cool temperature, it's a pleasant feeling before it sparks. Ignites the flame of ki and bolsters it. A restoration done with the transfer of ki. It cannot heal wounds but it does numb them for the moment.
"....If you lend me your strength in ridding my world of this plague. I'll answer more of your questions with what I know. Though if you want to fight each other. I will not tolerate it here."
He stares them down before slowly hovering upwards, staring at the first ghoulish demon he can spot and that power swells in his hand, a pure white ki blast forming that smolders, gaining height slowly before he releases it, easily taking out a good chunk that's still coming out of the dimensional tear.
He lets loose, this is his world and he doesn't tolerate unwelcome guests. Exhaling slowly a bit of steam from the corner of his mouth before his next punch rips through flesh, blood splattering as he runs them through, well aware the halo is glistening above his head, shimmering like a star undefiled by the wear and tear of his body. Instead he focuses on the undeniable hisses, the mocking title he owns thrown at him, a light scoff before another ki blast reduces the next ones coming at him to dust.
Something slams into his back, throwing him off balance, he can feel his vest tearing as something digs into him, growling as the little menace screeches at him before a dark blue furry limb swings out, snagging around the little demon and yanking it into his grasp to where he can rip it in half, throwing the two halves aside in favor of drawing closer to the interdimenional machine.
fxsiondxnce:
This demon, long in the body of his dearest friend, corroding it and doing unspeakable evil. Tarnished was the body, the faint fragments of his true friend can still be sensed, what he’s aimed to strengthen for so long. Fifteen years, it’s been so long. Now the boys had lost their lives in this bloody war, this plague that swept through the core with no mercy as he chokes on his own breath when he’s knocked back, when both attentions divert to the non-demonic Potara attempting to give him the senzu bean, the one he’d thrown the man’s way moments earlier. His body aches and the hellfire reminds him that those won’t heal properly but the way the ki blasts arch through the air, wasting no time. He’s not playing anymore. Which causes him to quickly push the other out of the way, growling when the searing heat of the ki blasts neatly scorch bits of fur, frowning as he dismisses the idea entirely.
He didn’t plan of surviving.
The two clash once more, the shock wave rippling through the air with the noise of contact, teeth bared as the other scowls, what was once a game of cat and mouse has divulged into a full battle, the intent to kill, the blood lust. But one still holding tightly onto hope, swiftly dodging when a now demonic saiyan tail swings at him, the barbed end cutting across his face, the blast is met with him crushing it in his hands before it can properly explode, taking the corrupted ki and turning it right back at the other.
A battle on instinct alone.
A foot smashes into his chest and he can feel bones protest, nails digging into the other’s leg before twisting, slamming him into the ground next to him before one hand snags at the Potara earring, a sickening crunch as the Demon rages, shrieking as it’s demonic features ever slightly fade, as does a fragment of it’s power. The warrior remains there. Intact. Permanent. But it doesn’t exclude the rasp that escapes the dance fusion, almost croaking the warrior’s name.
“Vegito, stop hiding. It’s your body, your damn life, why are you letting them take it! This isn’t the Vegito I know!” He snarls, pushing back against the force trying to pummel into him, though he’s flattened in the next one, gritting his teeth as he blinks through blurry vision, wiping away the blood threatening to blind him.
“If you thought you were the only one we had fun with you are quite wrong. Though…it’s much easier to break the mind than the body.” The demon responds, the glistening blade slowly forming before he pauses, his senses finally kicking in before he gazes in the direction of the other, staring at the attack that’s been slowly forming. Rage twists into his face, the blade slowly lengthening before disappearing, turning into a ki blast instead. Though it misses it’s mark when the giant tackles into the other, firmly wrapping his arms around him to keep him still as the air crackles with ki, pooling into a single focus point. The primal saiyan struggling to keep a grasp, the hold is the onyl reason he’s managing, though it’s clear to see the strain, the demon isn’t making it any easier with his thrashing. “You idiot, You’ll die with me then, you can’t come back a second time! Your already half dead!”
But still the man doesn’t budge, well aware of his fate should they both take the attack. The sheer determination as he battles through the pain, to create an opening, segments of blue rippling through his frame, trying to channel the higher transformation, putting everything he has left into it. Growling his spoken words with a ferocity and burning fire.
“I’ve already made my peace.” The air crackles further, the flames of ki that lick at the air, the halo slowly appearing above his head that’s cracking at the edges, a page out of the old book. “You will not be coming back from this.”
Well… Vegetto’s diversion partially works. The furry Gogeta’s gaze is successfully drawn to him, and as a consequence so is the demon’s. Since, you know, he’s obsessively trying to claim anything with ‘Gogeta’ in the name. isn’t he fortunate to be called ‘Vegetto’ instead? One stalker is already bad enough. The downside to having both attentions on him is the enemy fire beelining his way. Eluding ki blasts is easy when he has full power but his person is sluggish, tired, and his agility suffers tremendously for it. Luck be on his side, the fuzzy fusion knocks him out the firing line quicker than the scorching energy beam travels – he’s safe, but the same can’t be said for his aforementioned savior. The scent of burning fur isn’t pleasant.
“Hey—!” Vegetto starts off but his voice drowns out quickly beneath the instigation of another round between the two foreign fusions. Pulling his mouth to the side in thought, he contemplates the severity of abandoning all here and world hopping one final time today. He’d likely collapse as soon as he reaches the next plain but being stuck in the middle of… this, isn’t how he expected to spend his day.
Meanwhile, Gogeta snorts his disdain as his plotted ambush fails as the other him attacks, too. Astute gaze following the motions of the deranged pair battling it out again, he determines his next course of action. Prior business delayed due to the satanic entity choosing to butt in, he figures it’s only fair he gives back as good as the potara fusion gave out. Omitting the fact he too is running low on fumes, the flickering cobalt aura around him finally succumbing to a vibrant red instead. Not ‘down and out’ yet by any means, but less favorable.
He observes in terse silence, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Spotting Vegetto floating closer to him, reflexive defensiveness spiking as he braces for an underhanded move. None arrive, the air-headed fusion not taking his presence seriously. A punch to the face would remedy that, but the clown for once isn’t his priority. It’s… whatever these two are. Clearly, something has gone terribly wrong with the potara menace and the fluffy version of him is trying to rectify it. Why shouldn’t he linger to ensure the mistake is corrected? Shortly after, the one hovering at his side will be, also.
“Sooo… not seen the furry-fied version of you before. Ya holdin’ back on me?” Vegetto asks in his usual, annoying tone.
Wonderful. Idle chatter. Just what Gogeta wants. Parting with a vicious scowl for the other, the dance fusion considers not answering. Conversation isn’t necessary and Vegetto rattling on only irritates him. Uncharacteristically, he decides to respond. If only to remove the nuisance from his personal space quicker. “No. That form is unique to him.”
“Huh.” Eloquent as always, Vegetto’s eyes haven’t left the dangerously dancing pair. Furious blows shake the air around them as shockwaves reverberate. Compulsively, his hands flex in and out of fists, the senzu bean still curled firmly within one palm. Having beaten the temptation to split, he now struggles with the need to join the fight in spite of having no chance of winning, let alone helping.
Something feels wrong in the way they’re speaking. A niggling feeling in the back of Vegetto’s mind screeches at him to hop into action and fight, lest he wants to live to regret it. Swallowing down his unease, he abides by the whim and heads up, closer. Weirdly, Gogeta joins him, albeit hanging further back.
“What are you doing now? You’ll only get in the way of the furry one.”
He knows. Unhelpful as he is, there’s a magnetic pull that he can’t refuse tugging him towards the pilose fusion that saved him. Didn’t need to yet he still did. And he provided Vegetto with the bean earlier… “Can’t leave ‘em like this. It feels wrong,” he elaborates without much sense behind the words. Head shaking absently as he realises what is occurring a moment later, his currently teal eyes widen with undiluted shock at the frightening recognition. A memory, if you will. Not his, but Vegeta’s. “He’s, uh, he’s gonna implode.”
“What? Why would he? He has an advantage on that demon.” Gogeta doesn’t believe him.
Vegetto doesn’t care whether he’s believed. He cares about not losing the strange, new individual he feel inexplicably drawn to. “I can’t let ‘em,” he says mildly, like chatting about the awful weather. Not stalling to glance over at the scoff given by Gogeta, Vegetto boosts his energy enough to shoot up, stopping directly in line with the contending pair.
“Take it!” he shouts above their voices, once again not hearing their words. Probably should, it would explain a lot, but he digresses – he’s a little preoccupied. “Take it ‘n we can beat ‘im. Together! C’mon!”
Not kill. No one needs to die. Death is so… unwittingly familiar by now that Vegetto avoids it like the plague if he can. Without waiting on an answer, he puts on another spurt of energy and launches himself on the brawling duo. It’s hot, he aches, the ki streaming through his system still burns from earlier, but hell if he doesn’t hold onto the front of the demonic not-him for all he’s worth. He only frees up a hand to thrust the bean at the other Gogeta. “Take it! No one’s gotta die!”
Somewhere in the background, the red form of Gogeta gingerly approaches. Frame taut and prepared, it seems he too decided to join the battle. For once, they are on the same side. Odd how another pair of fighting ‘thems’ are the reason.
Why...
Why were they helping....
This wasn’t their world and yet...Still...
His mind struggles, the pure energy that burns against the acidic one, he wasn’t his mind, not his DNA, nor his spirit. Everything feels wrong as he can feel the general sense of coming apart at the seams, their voices are faint before the world crashes, his body crashes because he doesn’t follow with the motion and it hurts, everything crashes and the demon breaks free, practically vanishing with how fast he moves away, steaming mad but much more cautious.
Knocked back into the one offering the bean in the first place, he barely catches himself before the impact could be damaging, a mere displacement as he quickly moves forward a bit, given circumstances understandable as he gazes over at the other, a raised brow before frowning, his lips ever slightly part as if to argue, until a faint glisten in his eyes, casting a gaze once more to the demon who’s leering at them, steam escaping the corner of his gritted teeth. The spark of red fades for blonde, forced back into his natural state as he takes the bean, and it feels like a segment of him becomes whole.
Deep lacerations and bruises slowly heal, yet serious burns slowly pale, horrid reminders and clearly something beyond the healing capabilities of the senzu bean, though it doesn’t stop the explosion of pure power, the air revitalized, it feels like there isn’t ashes scattered around, the thick feeling of ki that wanted to suffocates fades slightly in favor of a sense of fresh air.
Eyes aglow as he ascends the levels rapidly, electricity crackling through his frame before ascending to the vile blue, a slight flash of disgust over his face for the form. He’d only done it once before, learned it before his capture but hadn’t been able to tap into it properly, now. He had an ocean of ki at his disposal, it felt...he felt alive again. More than he had in so long. But that blue gaze settles on the one besides him, before a hand raises, only to place itself on the man’s shoulder, the flash of sharp canines in a slight smile.
“Your a good man.”
The comment is delivered with truth, honesty that is a rarity before he takes his hand, smacking a ki blast down into the ground below before surging forward, initiating a heavily one sided fight, but he’s holding back. At each contact the vile ki is slowly disappearing, the demon becoming more desperate until he’s sent crashing out of sight, the sounds alone suggest a brutal battle that is covered by smoke. However when the radiant frame of blue returns into sight, there’s a large orb of vile ki in his grasp, slowly pushing it together as his own is combating it, clearly the demon had tried to switch and was now regretting it. Being purified point blank with the force of a soul punisher right inside of it.
The demon soul perishes, the link severed the Potara warriors body drops quickly, until it’s grabbed onto. His grasp gentle, before slowly moving to place the body down to the side, turning his gaze skywards as he narrows his eyes, noting the sky darkening. Usually what happens when the tear begins to open again, another wave would be coming soon unless he got up there and got rid of the device. He’d never been enough before, but maybe...
His gaze lands on the two, their own energies are flickering, compared to his that’s overflowing in waves through the area. He gazes back and forth between them before he beckons them over. “Get over before the wave descends. We’ve got maybe five minutes.”
fxsiondxnce:
Their comments do not go unanswered, instead he begins his leisurely pace of walking towards them, idly kicking a few white segments away that rattle, bones of some kind underneath the rubble as he sighs, instead he gazes at the ki blast that connects, the wish for pain is not granted. It doesn’t even sting which is why he slowly waves away the smoke, the cloth is ever slightly singed as he doesn’t give it a second gaze. The smoke clears to him instead frowning, a raised brow with a bored look upon his face before slowly continuing his walk forward, the predatory leer in his eyes has not vanished. There is nothing they can do to stop him.
This is his domain. Which makes it all the more easy to ignore the power thrown at him and keep walking, unbothered. So pitiful, fruit that bore ripe and yet there’s such a lack of energy that he debates upon it, before a smile slowly splits across his face, a hand slowly raises before he fires a blast, the darkened ki rushes forward before forcefully transferring itself into the exhausted twin, he can feel the satisfaction at seeing the way it does strengthen, but he’d barely given anything, just enough to keep them going.
“If your already exhausted the hunts not nearly as fun, no. I think I’ll share some, just to make things interesting. Can’t you feel it, the very air will dance at your control, tantalizing isn’t it~” He can see it, the disgust. He’s all sorts of wrong, his ki is no different, acidic. So finally he launches into action, aiming for the one that’s currently more favorable. The stronger. His fist meets the ground, his cut tail swings, blood splattering across the dance fusion’s wrist as he wraps it firmly around and yanks him right into where he brings a foot up, smashing it into the other’s chest before a hand sweeps out, edges of his nails digging into flesh, marking him. A satisfaction and yearning seeps into his bones. Though he can sense the other coming, rearing into the fight even though he’s so weak.
A simple blast of ki is enough, sending the still recovering twin back down into the rubble as he quickly throws himself into the fray with the other blue saiyan at the moment, laying in punches before suddenly pain floods through his face, the splatter of blood as he steps back, head thrown back from the blow straight to his face before slowly raising his head, a blink before a low chuckle. “May I have another?” He revels in the reactions he’s getting, fingers twitching at the prospect of an actual decent fight as he lets his ki run wild. Overflowing into the area as rubble slowly rises in aspect to his strength. “Come on, I’m barely getting started.”
He lunges forward again, pummeling into his opponent, the intent to kill is there, but he’s clearly getting bored when each attack feels numb to him. He takes a beating from them, but he just can’t care until finally letting his ki explode, sending both backwards as he floats upwards, collecting ki into a massive blast, the intent to ruin them both, but it explodes in his hand suddenly, that bright flash of ki he’s gone five years without that makes his own ki backfire and burn at him, hissing ever slightly as pain registers through his nerves. But the maddening cackle following, wide expectant eyes following the trail. He’s not disappointed by what he sees, what he’s earned with his actions.
A gaze that rival’s ice with it’s coldness. A frame as equally caked in blood yet it’s all his, segments still dripping as his vest is in tatters, the edges of his sash have been singed, faint rips at the white pants, but it’s the absolute damage to his body that stands out. Broken chains around his frame, some have clearly rubbed raw at his flesh, numerous scars that can be seen, some layered atop each other in an explainable amount given. A neat slice right into his eyebrow that’s still oozing blood, deep slashes at his wrists that has blood dripping still, trailing down his fingers before he lunges forward. Now that he’s closer, it’s easy to see the giant of a man bring his fists into a club and send him careening into the earth like a meteor. Shaking his hands ever slightly afterwards as if the very contact burned before he drops down near the two, finally taking assessment of the situation.
“My world was invaded with demons, the warrior you see before you was a dear ally, his body has been taken by one of the masterminds behind this. I’d suggest putting aside your petty differences if you wish to survive this encounter. He’s been playing until now.”
If to answer his words, Vegito rises, clearly effected by the attack from earlier as he shudders, as if the ki was still running its course before slowly releasing a rugged breath, then laughing, his body shakes as he tilts his head back, chest heaving as he sputters for a moment before he cackles. “Oh this is great! You finally broke free, it only took five years for you to gather your strength back. But you are much too late, I found where you hid them. They fought so valiantly. They took my eye with them to the grave if that makes you feel any better.” He drops on the rubble, staring down at the three but his words directed at the taller, his words drawled before he chuckles, the faint despair peaking through the dance fusion before it reaches its climax. The howl of rage that erupts and he’s barely avoiding being speared through with a metal rod picked from the rubble, the leg strikes next, before that wonderful primal form comes to life.
“You-” “Monster, oh please they cried the same thing, saying you’d save them. Children always scream the best-” He’s interrupted by the giant ki blast aimed to take him out, there’s not enough power even with the most primal form. “I couldn’t save them, I WILL avenge their deaths, FOR THEIR PARENTS!”
The blast does nothing. Zero damage and the terrifying version of himself carries on his merry way. Vegetto balks slightly, brows furrowed as he attempts to formulate a plan of attack. If he now has to watch his back for Gogeta and this imposter, it’s highly unlikely he’ll walk away unscathed. Unease floods through him with each step nearer the fake-him takes, hands clenching into fists as he awaits something retaliating. Power like that… is greater than anything he’s tried combatting yet. Potentially higher than the menace equally immobilised just ahead of him. Weirdly, Gogeta is yet to leap into the fray against this version of the potara fusion.
“Maybe we should—” he begins, interrupted by a beam of energy soaring his way. Without the time or energy to react, Vegetto’s hit and for the love of all that’s good, it hurts. Colliding with his stomach, the foreign ki invades his system like a remorseless virus, infecting all it touches. He slowly collapses in on himself, arms clutched about his midsection as his eyes jam shut, teeth gritted from the flaring agony. It’s sickening, literally. Never before has he felt so unwell. “G-Gogeta—y-you—” he stammers with failing coherency, finally down on his knees as he rides out the affliction.
Absurd is the way Vegetto crumbles with a ki-infusion. Usually, it bolsters the chosen one’s power, not sabotages. Gogeta scans the moron’s signature quickly, deducting that his strength has returned but at an awfully painful price. How he is yet to discern, but the pain signals being off the chart are evidence enough. There’s something abnormal, something unearthly about this carbon copy. Something truly evil.
Currently blue eyes narrow in on the offending fusion getting in his way, Gogeta preparing to attack or defend. Except – he does neither. Their common enemy is too fast when he shoots forward, taking the dance fusion by complete surprise. Underestimating the faker to be more in line with Vegetto’s abilities, he glumly notes was a mistake. Paying for mistakes can be tough, laborious and completely unfair. That is what he pegs the next happenings as.
At some point, he feels Vegetto move. Finally uncurled and jumping into the fray, the potara-made man fairs no better against this opponent with the surreal strength. Gogeta shakes away the haze trying to veil his line of sight, aware he’s bleeding from somewhere but recovering from the breathlessness of being winded takes priority. Blood will dry, air he needs to keep conscious.
They make little progress. For any strategy they try, despite not really working together, neither Gogeta nor Vegetto are able to damage him. To a warrior of his calibre, it’s extraordinarily frustrating that someone can run circles around him. The blows he or Vegetto get in are shrugged off like a bothersome fly irritating the demon. Tiring quickly, leaden limbs are little more than a death sentence. Saiyan stubbornness allows him to keep a grasp on the fading Blue, but not without its consequences. He can’t take much more, and he knows Vegetto is less so.
Is this how he dies? To a mutant, rabid fusion laughing at them? What a pain.
But they don’t die. Not just yet. After being flung backwards by an underhanded expulsion of ki, Gogeta’s straight back on his feet despite staggering, panting heavily as his form throbs from the abuse. Keen eyes lock onto the figure dedicated to killing them, when… fate intervenes in the appearance of – another him. Another dance fusion.
Evidently, Vegetto spots the same with a little delay. “Oh, w-what the hell? ‘Nother one of you? Just what I needed.”
“Shut up, idiot…” Gogeta huffs, breathing labored. That’s what hurts the most, breathing. He’s certain a few ribs are cracked or worse, pinching with each inhale. A hasty glance to Vegetto notes he’s no better. Except— “Where did you—you get that?”
Within Vegetto’s palm is a single sensu bean. “Uh—ol’ doom ‘n gloom you gave it to me.”
Uncertain to the motive of why, he’s hesitant to consume it. Firstly, it might be a trap and the beans work opposite here, instilling harm instead of curing ailments. Secondly, the only other dance fusions he’s met wants his head on a silver platter. Thirdly… what is that insane level of power emanating from… the other Gogeta? And what is that level? Despite all the blood, bruising and otherwise, the guy’s able to punt the new nightmare away and nearly pin him down in two seconds flat.
Mind spacing for a tick or two, Vegetto once again questions his own self-preservation at finding the display amazing in more than one way. One day, I’m gonna die ‘n it’s gonna be my own fault.
“Eat it, moron,” Gogeta – the one he knows and is glaring at him like he’s a waste of space – snaps, angered gaze flicking his way for a second. “You’ll need all the help you can get.”
“Charmed, really.” Rolling his eyes, Vegetto tunes back into the other pair fighting again, shouting something he missed whilst conversing with the Bane of his Existence. Troublesome to not know all the details but he’s positive the guy weeping bodily fluids everywhere needs the healing properties of the kernel more than he does.
So that becomes his next plan of action. Disregarding the hostile aura beating at him from his known Gogeta, Vegetto leaps up into the air and blasts off towards the friendlier counterpart. Stopping a little way off, he waves the bean in the air, pinched between two fingers. Calling out, he aims to gain the furry one’s attention. “YO! DON’T YA NEED THIS MORE?”
Rolling his eyes at the obvious distraction tactic, Gogeta hopes it works on the demonic potara one, too. Should his focus shift for too long, Gogeta’s plan on transmitting behind the fellow to deliver a punishing blow to the soul – the one and only Stardust Breaker. In fact, it’s what he does anyway. While Vegetto prattles on to the fake fluffy him, Gogeta silently warps to a destination behind his intended target, the attack already building in the palm of his hand. A few heartbeats later, he releases it, sling-shotting it directly at demonic potara’s back.
This demon, long in the body of his dearest friend, corroding it and doing unspeakable evil. Tarnished was the body, the faint fragments of his true friend can still be sensed, what he’s aimed to strengthen for so long. Fifteen years, it’s been so long. Now the boys had lost their lives in this bloody war, this plague that swept through the core with no mercy as he chokes on his own breath when he’s knocked back, when both attentions divert to the non-demonic Potara attempting to give him the senzu bean, the one he’d thrown the man’s way moments earlier. His body aches and the hellfire reminds him that those won’t heal properly but the way the ki blasts arch through the air, wasting no time. He’s not playing anymore. Which causes him to quickly push the other out of the way, growling when the searing heat of the ki blasts neatly scorch bits of fur, frowning as he dismisses the idea entirely.
He didn’t plan of surviving.
The two clash once more, the shock wave rippling through the air with the noise of contact, teeth bared as the other scowls, what was once a game of cat and mouse has divulged into a full battle, the intent to kill, the blood lust. But one still holding tightly onto hope, swiftly dodging when a now demonic saiyan tail swings at him, the barbed end cutting across his face, the blast is met with him crushing it in his hands before it can properly explode, taking the corrupted ki and turning it right back at the other.
A battle on instinct alone.
A foot smashes into his chest and he can feel bones protest, nails digging into the other’s leg before twisting, slamming him into the ground next to him before one hand snags at the Potara earring, a sickening crunch as the Demon rages, shrieking as it’s demonic features ever slightly fade, as does a fragment of it’s power. The warrior remains there. Intact. Permanent. But it doesn’t exclude the rasp that escapes the dance fusion, almost croaking the warrior’s name.
“Vegito, stop hiding. It’s your body, your damn life, why are you letting them take it! This isn’t the Vegito I know!” He snarls, pushing back against the force trying to pummel into him, though he’s flattened in the next one, gritting his teeth as he blinks through blurry vision, wiping away the blood threatening to blind him.
“If you thought you were the only one we had fun with you are quite wrong. Though...it’s much easier to break the mind than the body.” The demon responds, the glistening blade slowly forming before he pauses, his senses finally kicking in before he gazes in the direction of the other, staring at the attack that’s been slowly forming. Rage twists into his face, the blade slowly lengthening before disappearing, turning into a ki blast instead. Though it misses it’s mark when the giant tackles into the other, firmly wrapping his arms around him to keep him still as the air crackles with ki, pooling into a single focus point. The primal saiyan struggling to keep a grasp, the hold is the onyl reason he’s managing, though it’s clear to see the strain, the demon isn’t making it any easier with his thrashing. “You idiot, You’ll die with me then, you can’t come back a second time! Your already half dead!”
But still the man doesn’t budge, well aware of his fate should they both take the attack. The sheer determination as he battles through the pain, to create an opening, segments of blue rippling through his frame, trying to channel the higher transformation, putting everything he has left into it. Growling his spoken words with a ferocity and burning fire.
“I’ve already made my peace.” The air crackles further, the flames of ki that lick at the air, the halo slowly appearing above his head that's cracking at the edges, a page out of the old book. “You will not be coming back from this.”
@otherworldlyki
This world stanched in vile energy, the skies are blocked out by the raging fires, decimated landscape and demons run free. Tracking down whatever they can and killing whatever they can get their grotesque claws into. It doesn’t help that fragments of ki linger so heavily it feels like gravity itself is the enemy. Unnatural, twisted. A perfect paradise for devils, a living hell for everything else. Desolate, there’s only faint fragments of ki, survivors. Hiding as best they can deep underground. It doesn’t help the clash of ki, two new additions that don’t belong. Naturally it brings the attention of one individual, fresh from his last kill. He slowly makes his way there, this body was perfect, the power to destroy like nothing he’s felt before. But keeping the owner out of the body was much harder than he expected. Of course when he lands on the crumbling skyscraper to overlook what’s happening, his mind screeches at seeing the dance fusion.
I have you, your mine, why are you free.
It’s the lack of war, the lack of fatigue. The way he lingers over another that might as well be an exact twin to himself. The aspect is certainly interesting. The roles for some reason reversed, except he can feel no demonic life force from either. Natural, Unnatural. The tear must have allowed them to end up here, into the playground. Though he notices how wide eyes of his ‘twin’ startle, gazing up at his crouched frame, one arm against his knee as he gazes down at them both. He’s not exactly hidden, nor does he want to be, writhe in terror and horror at his very presence.
The world was his because of this body, even the mighty Gogeta had fallen. Their prisoner, the ONLY one who’d stood before him on even remotely equal terms, until he found that lingering power of the gods, twisted it to his will. Finally he had all the power this body had, right at his fingertips as he can’t help but drop forward, catching himself and letting himself float. The power to fly, exhilaration.
“Gogeta~ How wonderful to see you.” He coats his words with as much horrific glee as he can, which isn’t hard. He’s bubbling at the seams about a new plaything, the other one had stopped giving him reactions he craved for two years ago. What fun, new things to toy with instead of the runt who’d finally outlived his usefulness. The teal sash in hand is released, only to be burnt with a small ki blast before he lets the cut tail, his masterpiece, swing behind him, it had severely dampened the owner of this body’s willpower. He was in control.
“How marvelous~! Truly wonderful, the runt barely provided me any entertainment. I only lost an eye. Now for this body’s twin over there, hmm. I’ll see what this face looks like twisted in pain later. I’ll treat myself to the real prize.” The slowly building power as that faint dirty blonde look fades for a corrupted prismatic blue. The chuckle that leaves his lips, the flashing of sharp canines.
“Your mine~!”
Dimension hopping is exhausting work. Vegetto, made of two exceptional warriors that have vast reserves of ki, feels the drain each time he jumps. Successfully leaping more than once in a row is doubly draining, so after the third time in the event of leading the menace tailing him on a wild goose chase… it’s safe to say he wants to collapse on the spot for a nice catnap. Unfortunately, slumber isn’t on his cards just yet as that horrifically familiar spark of ki announces the nightmare’s arrival.
Cursing lowly, Vegetto wipes away the sweat beading on his brow with a hasty fist. Currently leaning on a crumbled building for support, he gazes around through a squinted eye to investigate his surroundings. Startling devastation encompasses as far as he can see, an uncomfortable pang of something bittersweet hitting him at feeling home. Funny how the reason for his catastrophe is also in this desolate world…
Move. Demanding inwardly his wearied physique abide by his whims, Vegetto musters the purely Saiyan stubbornness inherited from both his fusees and forces his deadened legs into action. One step at a time, no matter how slow, is progress. As long as he keeps moving, he stays alive. Staying alive is the utmost of importance considering he wants to restore his world and gift both his Goku and Vegeta back their lives.
Just move.
With effort, he does. Perseveres at feeling the scornful energy approaching him at a rapid pace. Faster than what he can move currently, so he stalls. Wasting time and strength on moving when he’ll inevitably wind up fighting is futile. Saving his resources, he props himself up against another stack of rubble, back to it, resting for the brief span of time it takes the hunting dance fusion to find his prey.
It doesn’t take long. Five minutes or so later and the nuisance catches up, already in that insufferable Blue form Vegetto’s come to dislike. Fortunately, Gogeta has also dimension hopped and the usually vibrant aura surrounding him flickers now and then. *He’s tired,* Vegetto muses, perceptive eyes tracking every flaw and weakness to exploit, *I can win.*
“So you’ve stopped running. And here I only assumed you were a complete coward.” Gogeta’s taunt falls on deaf ears—Vegetto’s more interested in the breathless quality of his tone. “Now stand still so we can end this chase permanently.”
He doesn’t, of course. He flares into Super and attacks without preamble. Commonly one to jest and jeer throughout a fight, he spares no time for shenanigans today. Space and time he wishes to create, crippling the powerful fusion temporarily so he can make a clean getaway. Coincidentally… Gogeta goes with his flow. Because no matter how well prepared an ambush is, disregarding how coordinated or excellently planned a strategy is, Gogeta has the greater prowess.
Has he mentioned how much he hates that fucking Blue form?
A swift, brutal conflict happens. The result isn’t favorable with Vegetto getting knocked back into the pile of rubble he leaned against prior. Straining with aching muscles to get back up, he tries to catch his breath first. Menacingly, his enemy strides towards him, ominous azure glow faltering as he too struggles to maintain an ascension. Not the last sight he wanted to see but he supposes this world feels most like home presently… he’s only missing the kids. Therefore, he drops his head back against crumbled stone and turns his gaze skyward—
—to doubletake and jerk his head in the direction of seeing another him sitting up high.
“…’M I dead already?” he calls out without much thought, causing a disdainful grimace to cross Gogeta’s features.
“Not yet, but you will be soon.” A promise, Gogeta doesn’t deal in threats. And he means it, a lethal volume of ki beginning to build in his balled-up hand. Except, with each step nearer the downed mistake, an awful sense of foreboding grows. So much by the time he looms menacingly over Vegetto, the intended blast in his hand fades. Instincts warn him he needs to save his ki and he doesn’t know why. Until he follows the gaze of the moron gawking somewhere above, torso twisting to do so.
Imagine his surprise at spotting yet another potara fusion smiling down at him. “…Just how many of you clowns are there?” he growls disapprovingly, gaze fixated on the new arrival instead of the panting one below. “Are you replicating?”
“S’not me…” Vegetto confirms pointlessly. Captain Obvious, or what? “There’s… somethin’ wrong with him.”
“…Wrong, how?” Commonly disinclined to listen to irksome drivel, Gogeta spares Vegetto some of his attention. If only to learn more of this fresh foe. “Another mistake I need to decimate?”
“No… he’s…” Vegetto can’t explain it. Frowning heavily by then, he pushes up on shaky arms and tilts his head as he examines the carbon copy of himself venturing down to join them. And he says… something about knowing Gogeta already? Weird as the flash of surprise he witnesses on said fusion’s face suggests otherwise. A dark, primitive feeling sprouts within his chest and Vegetto gains the familiar urge to run. Like his life depends on it. “…Somethin’s wrong.”
“I can see that!” Gogeta hisses, discomfort ringing loud and clear in his subdued tone. Apprehension and wariness are prominent, tension making his form rigid. “I belong to no one,” he continued coolly with enough volume for the other potara fusion to hear above his own incessant rambling. Who was this man trying to fool? They aren’t acquainted. He would remember such… disarray within an individual. “You’re interrupting—leave!”
Vegetto’s on his feet, having slowly gotten up during. Not once do his eyes leave his demonic-looking counterpart, analyzing the brewing situation. No way in hell can either of them outrun this guy, but perhaps if they cooperate temporarily, they can take him down. In an effort to determine the power of the potential foe, Vegetto abruptly shoots out a ki-blast of medium power, designed to avoid Gogeta (for once) and head for the other him.
“What do you think you’re doing!”
Their comments do not go unanswered, instead he begins his leisurely pace of walking towards them, idly kicking a few white segments away that rattle, bones of some kind underneath the rubble as he sighs, instead he gazes at the ki blast that connects, the wish for pain is not granted. It doesn’t even sting which is why he slowly waves away the smoke, the cloth is ever slightly singed as he doesn’t give it a second gaze. The smoke clears to him instead frowning, a raised brow with a bored look upon his face before slowly continuing his walk forward, the predatory leer in his eyes has not vanished. There is nothing they can do to stop him.
This is his domain. Which makes it all the more easy to ignore the power thrown at him and keep walking, unbothered. So pitiful, fruit that bore ripe and yet there's such a lack of energy that he debates upon it, before a smile slowly splits across his face, a hand slowly raises before he fires a blast, the darkened ki rushes forward before forcefully transferring itself into the exhausted twin, he can feel the satisfaction at seeing the way it does strengthen, but he’d barely given anything, just enough to keep them going.
“If your already exhausted the hunts not nearly as fun, no. I think I’ll share some, just to make things interesting. Can’t you feel it, the very air will dance at your control, tantalizing isn’t it~” He can see it, the disgust. He’s all sorts of wrong, his ki is no different, acidic. So finally he launches into action, aiming for the one that’s currently more favorable. The stronger. His fist meets the ground, his cut tail swings, blood splattering across the dance fusion’s wrist as he wraps it firmly around and yanks him right into where he brings a foot up, smashing it into the other’s chest before a hand sweeps out, edges of his nails digging into flesh, marking him. A satisfaction and yearning seeps into his bones. Though he can sense the other coming, rearing into the fight even though he’s so weak.
A simple blast of ki is enough, sending the still recovering twin back down into the rubble as he quickly throws himself into the fray with the other blue saiyan at the moment, laying in punches before suddenly pain floods through his face, the splatter of blood as he steps back, head thrown back from the blow straight to his face before slowly raising his head, a blink before a low chuckle. “May I have another?” He revels in the reactions he’s getting, fingers twitching at the prospect of an actual decent fight as he lets his ki run wild. Overflowing into the area as rubble slowly rises in aspect to his strength. “Come on, I’m barely getting started.”
He lunges forward again, pummeling into his opponent, the intent to kill is there, but he’s clearly getting bored when each attack feels numb to him. He takes a beating from them, but he just can’t care until finally letting his ki explode, sending both backwards as he floats upwards, collecting ki into a massive blast, the intent to ruin them both, but it explodes in his hand suddenly, that bright flash of ki he’s gone five years without that makes his own ki backfire and burn at him, hissing ever slightly as pain registers through his nerves. But the maddening cackle following, wide expectant eyes following the trail. He’s not disappointed by what he sees, what he’s earned with his actions.
A gaze that rival’s ice with it’s coldness. A frame as equally caked in blood yet it’s all his, segments still dripping as his vest is in tatters, the edges of his sash have been singed, faint rips at the white pants, but it’s the absolute damage to his body that stands out. Broken chains around his frame, some have clearly rubbed raw at his flesh, numerous scars that can be seen, some layered atop each other in an explainable amount given. A neat slice right into his eyebrow that’s still oozing blood, deep slashes at his wrists that has blood dripping still, trailing down his fingers before he lunges forward. Now that he’s closer, it’s easy to see the giant of a man bring his fists into a club and send him careening into the earth like a meteor. Shaking his hands ever slightly afterwards as if the very contact burned before he drops down near the two, finally taking assessment of the situation.
“My world was invaded with demons, the warrior you see before you was a dear ally, his body has been taken by one of the masterminds behind this. I’d suggest putting aside your petty differences if you wish to survive this encounter. He’s been playing until now.”
If to answer his words, Vegito rises, clearly effected by the attack from earlier as he shudders, as if the ki was still running its course before slowly releasing a rugged breath, then laughing, his body shakes as he tilts his head back, chest heaving as he sputters for a moment before he cackles. “Oh this is great! You finally broke free, it only took five years for you to gather your strength back. But you are much too late, I found where you hid them. They fought so valiantly. They took my eye with them to the grave if that makes you feel any better.” He drops on the rubble, staring down at the three but his words directed at the taller, his words drawled before he chuckles, the faint despair peaking through the dance fusion before it reaches its climax. The howl of rage that erupts and he’s barely avoiding being speared through with a metal rod picked from the rubble, the leg strikes next, before that wonderful primal form comes to life.
“You-” “Monster, oh please they cried the same thing, saying you’d save them. Children always scream the best-” He’s interrupted by the giant ki blast aimed to take him out, there's not enough power even with the most primal form. “I couldn’t save them, I WILL avenge their deaths, FOR THEIR PARENTS!”
fxsiondxnce:
He blinks once or twice, staring at his own twin’s retreating form, though a slight raise of a single blue brow at the words Vegetto decides to use, even going so far as to bring up a jab, to drag the other into a fight. he shifts ever slightly forward, as if to mediate the situation before it can possibly drop down further. Someone else beats him to it when he finds himself nearly bowled over, the sudden obnoxious playing of a radio that has him shooting an accusing glare at a certain Potara Warrior. A demanding ‘what are y-’ falls short when he notices the expression upon the other’s face. Pausing for a moment as a hand lifts for his temple, ever slightly pressing a few fingers there as the pressure in his form fades, his aura becomes more mixed with confusion than anything, he can feel it tangle with the other’s, sharing in the confusion.
On all fronts, only two are left out of the four that remain confused when suddenly the instrumental music picks up, a sharp drop in the emotions that had once swept forward from the more war torn fusions, gazing at each other. Blinking a few times before it changes, the radio is slowly placed down as Goggie turns his attention to the other two, searching for something and while yes he knows Vegito is walking up behind him, what he doesn’t expect is to be suddenly launched skywards, a undignified yelp escaping him as his ki spikes, trying to catch himself on short notice.
He fails when strong arms catch him, absolutely stunned as he blinks, trying to understand why he’s now being held bridal style and why Vegito has on his face a barely restraint feral grin, only looking somewhat smug. The cut tail swinging behind him gives away his glee. But it changes slowly, the ever slight smug smile, the faint shine of sharper canines peeking out from the Potara Fusion while the Dance Fusion currently being held glares at him with an expression that said “shutup, shut up, STOP IT.” It doesn’t help when the song begins actually playing and a part of him goes ballistic inside, the beast is rattling at its goddamn bars and screaming heavy metal at the top of it’s lungs. The other is whooping and cheering, crying in relief and from the flood of emotions, settling for an impassive gaze that does not at all give away either emotion but the harshly whispered ‘You cheeky son of a bitch-’ does help in the aspect when he’s suddenly pulled upwards, heels quickly digging into place as he stops a few feet away, pausing when gloves are suddenly tossed aside, revealing scarred palms that were practically sacred.
“If they’re going to talk about ‘fun’-” The words are spoken with a drawl, any other might have gone weak in the knees if he wasn’t expecting this, somewhat. He can realize that their aura’s are in a sense clashing together, his rough unnatural navy blue that seeps ever slightly, more pulled in and hidden while Vegito’s was a prismatic glistening hue, like an aurora had gifted him those colors. He can feel the beast slowly settle as his golden glow returns, dropping the stages because he’s not keeping that form up for any longer than he had deemed necessary. Though it does take him by surprise when he’s pulled forward, the smaller clasping one of his hands firmly, the other resting just against his forearm. “Let me take you away on the ride of your life pretty boy.” That low growl, almost sultry if he didn’t know the other so well. He blinks once, ridding himself of any insensibility , slowly intertwining his fingers as he takes that jump, right into the spiraling abyss that was his emotions. Only to suddenly place one hand above the other’s waist and yank him forward, the small squeak of surprise has a slight smile creeping onto his face, before he growls right back. “Let’s ride~”
His entire body has lifted, shoulders pull back, weight distributed evenly, head held high. He looks lighter, more at ease. Nothing about his expression is pinched anymore, and his aquamarine eyes seem to sparkle beneath the glowing vines. His body seems to roll a little bit, weight shifting from foot to foot with it, shoulders bobbing along even as his head remains in place, feeling out the beat. Then the beat drops, the lyrics start, and they are in motion. From zero to sixty in a single beat.
Movements sharp and wide, yet with a refined grace that shouldn’t belong to such powerhouses, the meadow is a ballroom, the world has twisted to their command and he feels every single beat, riding it out with the other with sharp motions or slow and graceful that are almost agonizing to watch, the light touches or the sharp ones, contact to skin that feels almost forbidden and so bittersweet. He goes from painfully slow, to smooth movements, to jerking quickness in seconds. The movement is wild and styled, grabbing, demanding, and keeping attention. One would be afraid to look away for fear of missing something, staring enraptured and leaning on his every movement, eager for the next.
His movements have attitude. Head and expression matching. It fits with the song, with the music, with the groove. All of it syncs together cohesively. He moves around the forest clearing, owning it. Movements wild and controlled. No moment is boring. No moment is slow. He tosses his head and rolls his hips, taking advantage of the sweep of the other’s body and the control he has over his own. With each wild movement, his shirt rides up, revealing a scarred yet toned stomach before the next movement hides it again. The ends of his blue sash flairs out around him as he goes as far as to spin the other outwards, before pulling him back sharply.
It’s clear that they knows their bodies, and they knows how to use it. The stiffness around them, the hardness, the reluctance, all melts away as they dance. Showing a side of both that’s softer, but still sharp with edges. Edges that are both dangerous and exhilarating. As alluring as they are threatening. It doesn’t take long before his smile becomes apparent, slipping through the cracks of his mask when his face becomes visible. It’s clear that not only does he know he’s doing well, but he’s enjoying himself. It adds a whole new level of excitement to his dance. As the ‘chorus’ builds, there are several quick to slow movements, ones that are sassy in essence, playful in the way they’re delivered. It ends abruptly, calmly, each other still grasped as they ride out the aftershocks of a symphony. It’s only then that it’s revealed that in a matter of moments Vegito achieved something that many would kill for. Not only that, it’s the way the two frames have dropped from the higher levels, both possess the iconic black hair, onyx hues that barely glisten. Their own amusement radiating as Goggie tilts his head ever slightly, his forehead resting against Vegito who revels in the touch of his oldest friend, but also barely restraining his glee knowing what’s coming next as he gazes at the other two finally, more specifically the one with his own heart in their hands, an ever slightly pleading gaze, as if asking if he could have his attention as well, to be blessed with his touch, with a touch only he can give.
The heated glare refuses to soften and Vegetto’s sure that if looks could kill, Gogeta would’ve murdered him ten times over by now. Unapologetic by nature and still raring for some form of energetic fun, he intends on poking and prodding the quick-tempered member of the wayward gang until he erupts. It’s why he’s currently closing the distance left between them, hands linked behind his back and expression radiating innocence. Unlucky for his chosen target, building behind him is a gathering of energy that will be only annoying when hit with. Pegged with one of those, it’ll certainly be the last push his blond comrade needs, earning him his game of dangerous chase. Weird how he used to avoid such and now itches for it.
The owner of said heated glare isn’t fooled in the slightest by Vegetto’s attempt of innocence. Suspicion building at the closer proximity between them, Gogeta’s form starts to tense in preparation for whatever the clown has plotted and thinks him ignorant of. One solid punch in the face should ward the potara nuisance off for a brief period and that is all he requires to escape for the sought out snacks his stomach quietly rumbles for.
So he waits, biding his time as Vegetto steps so casually into his personal space bubble while wearing a stupid grin and—yeah, there it is. A feint in the perfectly balanced, fused warrior ‘tripping’ over his own feet to throw out the ‘secret blast’ he was manifesting. Fortunately, Gogeta was also made with inherited grace, strength and tactical prowess—Vegetto’s irritable shenanigans are no match for his cunning. One of the things he thanks his creators’ for. As the imbecile ‘falls’, almost comically slow, the twinkling of ki generated launches the dance fusion’s way. Nonchalantly, Gogeta readies his counterattack: catching Vegetto’s irksome blast and sending it back at his face with thrice the power.
In the meantime, Vegetto spares his face the pleasure of meeting the floor by throwing out his empty hand to catch his fall, the shocked expression plastered on his face blatantly fabricated. “Woah! Man, I gotta watch my step more—buh!”
The rest of his speech quickly cut off when his blast reverberates back at him with more velocity, Vegetto hasn’t the time to defend or divert. Taking the bulk of it in his face, he earnestly collapses this time, lurching without grace to the side and ending up a pile of flapping limbs. Sufficiently stunned, he lays where he is momentarily, blinking the glittery stars out his line of sight. Clearly, his brilliant schemes need a little work… “Owww,” he whines pitifully, trying to garner nonexistent sympathy from the only fusion paying attention to him—what are the other two doing? Ignoring a wounded warrior! How callous. “What’s the problem, blondie? Tryna take an eye out?!”
“Next time I will,” Goegta replies evenly, arms now crossed tightly over his chest. Vexation resonates from him but the ghost of an amused smile tugs at his lips. “Don’t start fights you’ll never win, moron.”
“So cold…” Vegetto complains, sprawled out on the grassy floor now. A smile crept onto his face sometime, betraying any ‘injury’ he wishes to exaggerate. “What’re you…” he starts to ask, trailing off at noticing Goegta’s attention is no longer on him. Head tilting to bring whatever captured his fellow fusion’s curiosity, puzzled eyes blink a few times more as they try and piece together what he’s seeing.
Goggie and Vegito are… “…Dancin’?” he inquires softly, wondering if this is a moment between the two of them that he and Gogeta shouldn’t bear witness to. After all, old friends that lived after combatting hell will have bonds he’ll never understand.
“Yes, dancing. Something you have no talent in, I assume.”
Vegetto snorts, arms lifting over his head to thrust up and forward. His body follows suit and he lands in a crouch, fluidly moving to stand. “Assumptions make an ass of you ‘n me. There’s nothin’ I can’t do.”
“Hmm.” Gogeta offers no other thought aloud, eyes pinned on the twirling pair. Almost like they had rehearsed a thousand times, neither of their counterparts miss a single step. Flowing with the rhythm, beyond comfortable with one another to be so close, so vulnerable… what an odd sentiment. He can’t imagine feeling that secure with someone. Or, perhaps… The future isn’t set and he of all people know fate is finicky, full of surprises.
Noticing somewhere he’s the only one still above Base level, Gogeta makes no move to rectify this. Super grants him the security of knowing he has limitless power at his beck and call, bolstering it in a second flat if necessary. But there is something in the way that move, how carefree Vegito appears… it loosens the knot of tension always present within. Maybe one day, it will unravel altogether. Maybe… one day may be sooner than he believes as he locks gazes with the less irritating potara fusion a second later, the imploring glimpse flooring any protest he has. His feet move without permission and he’s beside the pair in a second, holding out a hand to participate next.
On the other hand, Vegetto stays stagnant, observing with a mellowness unlike him. Being a protector, a provider, is ingrained in him, nature and nurture-wise. Seeing his found family relaxed and jovial brings a warmth to his chest. Not the usual uncomfortable constriction, but a soothing heat spreading out from the center of his core. It feels nice.
Bringing up a smile when he figures Goggie will return and watch with him instead, he nods his head towards Vegito and states, “Never told me you could dance. What other secrets ya got?”
“I’m a dance fusion, I decided to give it a shot and found I enjoyed it. Vegito just likes doing it a bit more than I do. He enjoys music, he’ll even play the violin if given the chance again.” Is his comments to Vegetto, otherwise pulling the smaller closer to his giant frame, placing his chin atop the other’s spiky head, arms draped over his shoulder’s in a loose embrace as he gazes to the two now in the middle of the meadow, a lazy expression on his face. He’s entirely calm, a bit more open but he’s calm, placated.
Vegito effectively called out on one of his favorite activities simply roles his eyes, a glance to Goge has him slowly moving, the contact of flesh has him pausing for a moment. Only now becoming conscious of the fact he’d forgone his gloves. He can’t tell if the sight is off putting, however he takes the other’s hand, letting himself guide the other into the movements. Before the song starts that he’s familiar with, that alone is the confidence boost he needs. His body moves into the rhythm, feet move at the time as he puts on a show, drags attention to himself because he knows Goge is more reserved, isn’t used to things like this and he’s going to make it an experience the other can enjoy.
He guide’s him, into the rhythm, shows him how to match his body to the beat, how to make it feel and seem natural. He’s far from the showy movements, he keeps them normal, more reserved, more the dance fusion’s style. Not his carefree, throw it all to the wind and just have fun version, that comes with comfort, with some experience. His touches are gentle, endeared with the other.
“Your doing good, trust me at first Goggie was must worse off, took him much longer to get used to it.”
@otherworldlyki
This world stanched in vile energy, the skies are blocked out by the raging fires, decimated landscape and demons run free. Tracking down whatever they can and killing whatever they can get their grotesque claws into. It doesn’t help that fragments of ki linger so heavily it feels like gravity itself is the enemy. Unnatural, twisted. A perfect paradise for devils, a living hell for everything else. Desolate, there's only faint fragments of ki, survivors. Hiding as best they can deep underground. It doesn’t help the clash of ki, two new additions that don’t belong. Naturally it brings the attention of one individual, fresh from his last kill. He slowly makes his way there, this body was perfect, the power to destroy like nothing he’s felt before. But keeping the owner out of the body was much harder than he expected. Of course when he lands on the crumbling skyscraper to overlook what’s happening, his mind screeches at seeing the dance fusion.
I have you, your mine, why are you free.
It’s the lack of war, the lack of fatigue. The way he lingers over another that might as well be an exact twin to himself. The aspect is certainly interesting. The roles for some reason reversed, except he can feel no demonic life force from either. Natural, Unnatural. The tear must have allowed them to end up here, into the playground. Though he notices how wide eyes of his ‘twin’ startle, gazing up at his crouched frame, one arm against his knee as he gazes down at them both. He’s not exactly hidden, nor does he want to be, writhe in terror and horror at his very presence.
The world was his because of this body, even the mighty Gogeta had fallen. Their prisoner, the ONLY one who’d stood before him on even remotely equal terms, until he found that lingering power of the gods, twisted it to his will. Finally he had all the power this body had, right at his fingertips as he can’t help but drop forward, catching himself and letting himself float. The power to fly, exhilaration.
“Gogeta~ How wonderful to see you.” He coats his words with as much horrific glee as he can, which isn’t hard. He’s bubbling at the seams about a new plaything, the other one had stopped giving him reactions he craved for two years ago. What fun, new things to toy with instead of the runt who’d finally outlived his usefulness. The teal sash in hand is released, only to be burnt with a small ki blast before he lets the cut tail, his masterpiece, swing behind him, it had severely dampened the owner of this body’s willpower. He was in control.
“How marvelous~! Truly wonderful, the runt barely provided me any entertainment. I only lost an eye. Now for this body’s twin over there, hmm. I’ll see what this face looks like twisted in pain later. I’ll treat myself to the real prize.” The slowly building power as that faint dirty blonde look fades for a corrupted prismatic blue. The chuckle that leaves his lips, the flashing of sharp canines.
“Your mine~!”
“…So I’m gonna need ya to dance like that more often. I absolutely volunteer to be ya partner in it.” *wiggly eyebrows*
Blink. Blink.
"....No." To which part-
fxsiondxnce:
“…”
A silence from the reddish brown mass, a slow blink as he stares upon no doubt something that should be inclining an inkling of fear, then again, as shoulders relax and a deep breath is taken, he shoves that all away before feet firmly plant themselves into the dirt, his tail curls ever slightly behind him before slowly fists clench tightly. Icy blue slowly gives way to Iridescent blue, his ki vanishes before a pressure builds, the trees protest against such unnatural force before it sparks off him. Eyes closed as he grabs onto that fragment of light, in the depths of his soul, he can feel his link to the over world growing stronger, to the world around him as his senses explode and the gates flood. There’s not a sound besides the crackle of electricity, the flash of sparking yellow before it turns vivid blue, his frame shrinks only slightly, the physical mass is gone. His ki has all but vanished, leaving in it’s presence a pressure that tugs and forces at the area, unwavering.
“Your reading choices are not that ba-” Given the fact of the unnatural transformation, it only makes sense that Vegito gazes over, what doesn’t is the fact he doesn’t just drop out of SSJ4 without a single word, he also ascends to the godly form, a flicker of blue that momentarily highlights over the damage of his frame before fading, his is not nearly as outspoken as the one who’d originally taken the form. But it’s clear to see the faint concern lingering, before it turns to jubilation when Goggie doesn’t flee, he casts his gaze at both Potara.
He doesn’t run, he doesn’t freeze.
It’s cautious on the actual original’s part, with reason as he casts a gaze to the current dance fusion next to him, a gloved hand gently resting at his shoulder, because this was the moment of truth, an explanation to why he’d often be seen dropping from the blue form now and then. Though he does know what the transformation entails and vanishes from his position, appearing not even five feet away from the other, a hand raised in his direction. He notes how theirs a faint tension in the more scarred dance fusion, it doesn’t ascend to anything else.
“Seriously have you lost brain cells from that transformation-” His sharp tone slips from his throat, a more dull baritone vocal but not as deep as the others, much more light in nature as he does have the audacity to look annoyed. “-are you dense, I wanted to surprise them with this, now you’ve gone and-” He doesn’t get another word in edgewise when suddenly he’s taken into a headlock and his hair is being messed up, sputtering as he writhes like the action offends him, but the slight curve of his lips doesn’t fade as his cut tail swings with glee. “Not fair, you’ve learnt my weakness from that wandering god haven’t you!” said god was known amongst them all, but his name was never exactly spoken much, what if it summoned him somehow with how he tended to appear after it being spoken. The smaller super saiyan god eventually breaks free, shaking his head as his spikes return to their normal position, pouting ever slightly, but there’s pride shimmering in the depths of his eyes.
Surprise is the first thing crossing Vegetto’s face at witnessing the dramatic changes occurring so rapidly within Goggie’s expression and energy. Showboating saved for another time, he descends without a fuss, the natural dark bangs wafting in front of his face once more. Equally dark eyes pin on the dance fusion, Vegetto mirroring the move to rise up and back away a step or two, curious about what the next course of action is. As usual, it is nothing he predicts.
Age old instinct of startling from anyone leaping into Blue has Vegetto hopping a few more paces away, eyes widening to convey the surprise. Glad he hasn’t got the tail to resemble a spooked feline currently, he wonders what prompted the abrupt change and whether they need to worry. Flicking a changing glance to his potara counterpart, he notes the keen observation from both individuals a little out, too.
“Yo, what’s—?” he starts, posture cautionary as his hands lift in a placating manner. He gets no further as Goggie evaporates and is upon Vegito in an instant.
In the meantime, Gogeta’s sharp gaze never once loses track of his twin. Knowing full well how much damage their power can do, and how quickly, he tolerates no potential threats to the family he has found. Even if said threat plausibly comes from within. The spine of the book creaks as his grip threatens to crush the fragile bindings from the tension coursing through him, prior twitching tail stilling as he prepares for battle.
Seemingly his better half does as well, and no sooner does the Blue appear to his side on Vegito’s spiky head, his twin reappears there, also. Pushing up from where he relaxes with grim determination of taking on—and taking out—his doppelganger, the apprehensive situation quickly unravels as nothing sinister after all. Frankly, after gauging the predicament entirely and evaluating the body language of the fusion pair, Gogeta determines they are all nothing but insufferable show offs.
“…You couldn’t think of a less heart-attack inducing way of displaying your strength?” Gogeta grumbles with underlying vexation in his tone. Relinquishing the firm grip on his book, he dogears the page to save his place for later and closes the tome. Sitting up from his reclined position, he floats down to the ground, blanking the three as he diverts his attention into finding something to eat.
“Psh, what crawled up your ass ‘n died today, Blondie?” Vegetto chirps jovially, the surprise and vague trepidation from earlier having melted away for the playful portrayal he now feels. In all honesty, he’s itching for a good fight and he knows just how to bait Gogeta into one. “What—not gettin’ enough ass to keep those grumpy grumps away~?”
Like clockwork, Vegetto’s taunting hits a personal spot within Gogeta and the book that was in the dance fusion’s hand soars through the air swiftly to deck Vegetto in the head. Impeccable aiming as always, it doesn’t dissuade the potara-made man. If anything, it bolsters his need to push that extra bit.
“Psh, that’s the best you’ve got? Settlin’ down’s made you soft as fuck man. Lameee.”
“Will you shut your mouth?!” Gogeta finally snaps, blazing eyes leering his way. They promise of pain. Fists clench hard at his side as he prays for the patience to not beat the audacious imbecile into the ground.
Vegetto merely grins. This’ll be one hell of a fight when he finally cracks Blondie’s temper open.
He blinks once or twice, staring at his own twin’s retreating form, though a slight raise of a single blue brow at the words Vegetto decides to use, even going so far as to bring up a jab, to drag the other into a fight. he shifts ever slightly forward, as if to mediate the situation before it can possibly drop down further. Someone else beats him to it when he finds himself nearly bowled over, the sudden obnoxious playing of a radio that has him shooting an accusing glare at a certain Potara Warrior. A demanding ‘what are y-’ falls short when he notices the expression upon the other’s face. Pausing for a moment as a hand lifts for his temple, ever slightly pressing a few fingers there as the pressure in his form fades, his aura becomes more mixed with confusion than anything, he can feel it tangle with the other’s, sharing in the confusion.
On all fronts, only two are left out of the four that remain confused when suddenly the instrumental music picks up, a sharp drop in the emotions that had once swept forward from the more war torn fusions, gazing at each other. Blinking a few times before it changes, the radio is slowly placed down as Goggie turns his attention to the other two, searching for something and while yes he knows Vegito is walking up behind him, what he doesn’t expect is to be suddenly launched skywards, a undignified yelp escaping him as his ki spikes, trying to catch himself on short notice.
He fails when strong arms catch him, absolutely stunned as he blinks, trying to understand why he’s now being held bridal style and why Vegito has on his face a barely restraint feral grin, only looking somewhat smug. The cut tail swinging behind him gives away his glee. But it changes slowly, the ever slight smug smile, the faint shine of sharper canines peeking out from the Potara Fusion while the Dance Fusion currently being held glares at him with an expression that said “shutup, shut up, STOP IT.” It doesn’t help when the song begins actually playing and a part of him goes ballistic inside, the beast is rattling at its goddamn bars and screaming heavy metal at the top of it’s lungs. The other is whooping and cheering, crying in relief and from the flood of emotions, settling for an impassive gaze that does not at all give away either emotion but the harshly whispered ‘You cheeky son of a bitch-’ does help in the aspect when he’s suddenly pulled upwards, heels quickly digging into place as he stops a few feet away, pausing when gloves are suddenly tossed aside, revealing scarred palms that were practically sacred.
“If they’re going to talk about ‘fun’-” The words are spoken with a drawl, any other might have gone weak in the knees if he wasn’t expecting this, somewhat. He can realize that their aura’s are in a sense clashing together, his rough unnatural navy blue that seeps ever slightly, more pulled in and hidden while Vegito’s was a prismatic glistening hue, like an aurora had gifted him those colors. He can feel the beast slowly settle as his golden glow returns, dropping the stages because he’s not keeping that form up for any longer than he had deemed necessary. Though it does take him by surprise when he’s pulled forward, the smaller clasping one of his hands firmly, the other resting just against his forearm. “Let me take you away on the ride of your life pretty boy.” That low growl, almost sultry if he didn’t know the other so well. He blinks once, ridding himself of any insensibility , slowly intertwining his fingers as he takes that jump, right into the spiraling abyss that was his emotions. Only to suddenly place one hand above the other’s waist and yank him forward, the small squeak of surprise has a slight smile creeping onto his face, before he growls right back. “Let’s ride~”
His entire body has lifted, shoulders pull back, weight distributed evenly, head held high. He looks lighter, more at ease. Nothing about his expression is pinched anymore, and his aquamarine eyes seem to sparkle beneath the glowing vines. His body seems to roll a little bit, weight shifting from foot to foot with it, shoulders bobbing along even as his head remains in place, feeling out the beat. Then the beat drops, the lyrics start, and they are in motion. From zero to sixty in a single beat.
Movements sharp and wide, yet with a refined grace that shouldn’t belong to such powerhouses, the meadow is a ballroom, the world has twisted to their command and he feels every single beat, riding it out with the other with sharp motions or slow and graceful that are almost agonizing to watch, the light touches or the sharp ones, contact to skin that feels almost forbidden and so bittersweet. He goes from painfully slow, to smooth movements, to jerking quickness in seconds. The movement is wild and styled, grabbing, demanding, and keeping attention. One would be afraid to look away for fear of missing something, staring enraptured and leaning on his every movement, eager for the next.
His movements have attitude. Head and expression matching. It fits with the song, with the music, with the groove. All of it syncs together cohesively. He moves around the forest clearing, owning it. Movements wild and controlled. No moment is boring. No moment is slow. He tosses his head and rolls his hips, taking advantage of the sweep of the other’s body and the control he has over his own. With each wild movement, his shirt rides up, revealing a scarred yet toned stomach before the next movement hides it again. The ends of his blue sash flairs out around him as he goes as far as to spin the other outwards, before pulling him back sharply.
It’s clear that they knows their bodies, and they knows how to use it. The stiffness around them, the hardness, the reluctance, all melts away as they dance. Showing a side of both that’s softer, but still sharp with edges. Edges that are both dangerous and exhilarating. As alluring as they are threatening. It doesn’t take long before his smile becomes apparent, slipping through the cracks of his mask when his face becomes visible. It’s clear that not only does he know he’s doing well, but he’s enjoying himself. It adds a whole new level of excitement to his dance. As the 'chorus' builds, there are several quick to slow movements, ones that are sassy in essence, playful in the way they’re delivered. It ends abruptly, calmly, each other still grasped as they ride out the aftershocks of a symphony. It’s only then that it’s revealed that in a matter of moments Vegito achieved something that many would kill for. Not only that, it’s the way the two frames have dropped from the higher levels, both possess the iconic black hair, onyx hues that barely glisten. Their own amusement radiating as Goggie tilts his head ever slightly, his forehead resting against Vegito who revels in the touch of his oldest friend, but also barely restraining his glee knowing what’s coming next as he gazes at the other two finally, more specifically the one with his own heart in their hands, an ever slightly pleading gaze, as if asking if he could have his attention as well, to be blessed with his touch, with a touch only he can give.
very slowly working on replies got two sitting in my drafts
feeling so stuffy but im gonna try and reply to everyone