wanderlust.

𝚒'𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝

[como-chin-gas]

[fxsiondance]

Vegetto huh? It was far different than how Vegito's name was spelt and pronounce, the snort from the potara fusion only confirms that the naming part clearly had been a battle and a half. His name hadn't even been spoken aloud properly, mainly kept mentally and only known by his creators until he was brought back into existence. The dance fusion is entirely silent, still enjoying his meal while the other have by far finished. Watching as Vegito gathers up the bowls, both only pausing when their guest speaks up, gaze looking between one another, there seems to be some type of silent conversation, one that ends with Vegito smirking at him and Gogeta facepalming.

An exhale escaping the dance fusion before he lifts his gaze back to the other. "...Any other time I'd say the paranoia is reasonable. However sometimes in the worlds, people do just want to help, rare as it is." He leaves it hanging in the air as his fork presses into the piece of steak, seasoned and cooked through, yet despite the savory taste he finds his appetite fading, his sharp mind replaying scenario's in his mind that he sometimes wishes he could forget.

His tail brushing against the floor below, he slowly wraps it around his waist. Clearly searching for the words to use, trying to be nice was only rising more suspicion but... if the other didn't want to accept then it was his own foolishness. He couldn't force the other to do anything.

"Just want to help. Only catch being you'd help around here while you stay, but we have the means to shelter you, to make sure you can recuperate before you go out and face the unknown again." Gazing down to the cup of his drink, watching the two toned liquid shift around with the faint vibrations from each movement on the table. He can hear Vegito cursing the dish washer for the fourth time this week and then hear him resort to just hand washing everything. He'll have to get a new one somehow. His mind wanders, the edges of his fingers brushing over the cup, as if debating to take a sip.

"My original purpose was to destroy evil, then fade away into the ether, to wander a void until I was called forward again. Then, suddenly I had the gift of life thrust upon me, alongside someone else who shared an almost identical situation but a different means of existing." He can hear Vegito pause in the kitchen, no doubt listening before he slowly continues. "Is it wrong for us to exist? A fusion meant to be temporary and one that was supposed to be permanent. I've seen many outcomes in my travels. That's a question only fusions will ever be able to ponder."

"Because only a fusion can understand another fusion. But I've protected many, I've found I like doing that more than pointless destruction. So ultimately it up to you Vegetto if you wish to take our offered hands or shun them." He rises to his feet, he'll place the leftovers in the fridge. "I'll let you think on it. There's a guest bedroom I can show you to once I'm done with this. I'd be a horrible host if I had you sleep on the couch."

[otherworldlyki]

‘Sometimes’ people want to help, huh? Vegetto negates concealing his incredulous snort. Sometimes, people feared him they attacked first, and asked questions later. Sometimes, people expected him to be too alike to his creators and it stung when their sorrow was replaced with contempt. Sometimes, an individual thought he was the cause of All Things Evil™ and swore to hunt him down until their last breaths.

So, yeah… forgive him if his scepticism is far more pronounced than any fleeting relief he foolishly allowed to sink in.

Sitting in mulish silence while listening to everything this Metamoran fusion shares, Vegetto’s mind wars with pride and desperation. Exhausted beyond usual limits, he’d be lucky to stay conscious for the next half hour without diligent rest. He must recover his wits and he comprehends that comes alongside slumber he has avoided for two days straight. On the flip side, Saiyan stubbornness demands he reject the cordial offer and be on his way to elude the potential hazard most Metamoran fusions offer.

Laughable is the idea he exists for a reason, though. So much a derisive scoff departs him and his cool gaze meets this Gogeta’s own while revealing little of what hides in mind. “Don’t pretend you understand me just ‘cause we’re both fusions. You might exist here happily in ya own lil’ bubble but that won’t work for me.” The ‘I don’t want to take their place’ is not conveyed but is heavily implied. He tires of the morose faces searching his for the pair his life force stole. “So, thanks for the offer but I’ve gotta say—”

A sharp spike of chillingly familiar energy pops into his tracking radius and steals the remainder of Vegetto’s reply. Instantly, he switches from lazy dismissal to high alert, energised far more than earlier from the brief respite of a hearty meal. Leaping up from his taken chair, he rushes through the establishment until he finds a window facing the direction of the unwanted arrival to stare out of. Keen eyes scan the immediate vicinity and find nothing amiss. The frown creasing his features deepens at considering the menace’s choice to hide instead of engaging recklessly. He knows, Vegetto presumes, that the Potara fusion is not alone despite his company’s energy being unusual.

“Tch.” Vegetto hisses out his displeasure, cursing the fact he can’t sleep yet. A loitering threat needs neutralising quickly. Gauging the best idea for an attack plan, he bluntly refuses to permit the stalker from injuring any others while aiming for him. Therefore, he needs to leave. Hastily.

Storming through the abode with grim determination set, Vegetto spares the snappiest, “Don’t follow me,” to each other fusion present before departing through the door from which they entered. Boosting his ki to combat-ready levels (hazardous, but he digresses), he shoots off from the ground without preamble and beelines for the waiting risk with intent of drawing him away from the homely home.

[tkmnkiii]

[screenshotsofdespair]

[fxsiondance]

"Welcomin party, eh? That's a sentence." Dropping down to the ground, he looks over to Gogeta who exhales being the first to start walking towards the nearby dirt path. Both had worked on making a home of sorts, plenty of space for two occupants. The capsule home nearby suggests it only existed for a short time before it became more like you'd expect a trailer to be outside a house. Bulma had pestered them both to make a house fitting for themselves, while Vegito was more modern, Gogeta had a love for nature. Combining the two had been a bit difficult but they found a way to make it work. Vegito taking place to walk besides Vegetto, in-case the other tipped over during the fair distance trip. with the dance fusion leading the way, there's a relief at seeing the huge cottage up ahead. The lights still on because of Gogeta's hasty arrival to find him.

His arms stretch above his head once walking in, shoes left at the welcome mat. He can still smell the faint scent of the candles that had been lit, the cinnamon and vanilla mixed well together and with the food still out on the counter that had been cooked he suggests the other had been working on dinner before the other had popped up. Which the metamoran warrior walks over to reheat, turning on the stove and messing with the modern appliances like it was nothing. A skill all his own was definitely his affinity for cooking.

"Ya know I can help with it." The potara warrior muses, all the while reaching up for both earrings, a click from the mechanism and both fall into his gloved palms, placing them down onto the table. He's not aware of the look he gets from the other potara fusion because he's not at all focused on it. He snorts at the hasty no from the dance fusion, recalling how he'd somehow managed to burn toast which has them bantering, both chuckling at the memory of it, Gogeta's laughter is more quiet but the mirth is there.

"You can set the table and get stuff ready. It'll be done soon, I'm just reheating it." The food consisting of what looks like various types of pork, steak and what seems to be a seafood dish for Vegito. Multiple side dishes. It's an organized chaos with both maneuvering through the kitchen. Places and silverware set up, soon the table is decorated with all but a feast.

"Not my best cooking since I had to reheat it but hopefully it won't be horrible." It takes less than a few minutes of it being on the table for Vegito to offer his counterpart a seat and take one himself. All but digging into the seafood dish with renewed vigor. Gogeta is not as hasty with chowing down, seeming to go slower with it to savor the taste. He does pause halfway through before speaking up. "How should we address you, I assume there is some difference to the name. Vegito's name has the prominent I to it. So if we were to mess with the name a bit..." Finger tapping against the table before he speaks. "Would it be Vegetto then?"

There's a groan from Vegito, accompanied by the grumble of 'why does it sound more authentic than mine' more clearly joking around than anything.

[otherworldlyki]

Contently permitting the Metamoran fusion to take the lead and guide him to a supposedly suitable abode, Vegetto follows in stark silence. Contrary to his usual behaviour—endlessly chatty and purposely goading—the muted state feels appropriate concerning the unusual situation he finds himself in. Not the first, being unusual himself, but definitely the most unbelievable. Alternate versions of people he knows back home holds a higher plausibility than another actual him plus more roaming freely. Plus separated creators? Something smells fishy, or he’s hoping it does. Irritating the thought, really. Commonly, his mind is impenetrably calm.

The abode they trek to is grandiose. Situated safely away from prying eyes and surrounded by this world’s natural beauty. While he isn’t one for fawning over decorative details, Vegetto can’t deny it looks good. Great, even. Homely… Snapping away from that heart-aching path, he hesitates to trail in after both hosts enter. Reservations of it being a convenient trap linger but the timely rumbling of his stomach at the promised food encourages him onward.

The immediate scent is heavenly. Food, cooked or otherwise, always smells divine. Especially home-made, which this seems to be. Hilariously, he can’t recall a single memory of either creator performing complicated acts in the culinary arts. Grilling fish (or otherwise) over an open fire doesn’t count. Stalling in the entryway, he too removes worn boots and situates them neatly by the door. That he closes also since he’s last to come in. Glancing around with vague interest, he uncovers nothing treacherous and grants himself a reprieve from being on edge constantly.

“Nice place you’ve got…” he murmurs aloud, mostly to himself but loud enough to suggest conversation. Following the other him unwarrantedly, Vegetto spies the odd Potara hanging off his ears being deposited on the table carelessly. It draws a hand up to touch one of his own, wondering if something differs there, too. So much here makes little sense.

Meandering around without any real direction, Vegetto’s chatty nature is once again elusive. Overwhelmed, perhaps, but he refuses to delve deeper into that cesspit. In quick succession, he’s distracted by the unquestionable banquet laying before them. Thoughts containing anything but devouring some plates are shoved back rudely and he takes a welcoming seat, eyeing up each morsal available. Brushing his gloved hands together absently to ward off any dust they collected, he all but piles his plate high with everything in reach.

Idly, amid enjoying some meaty treat, Vegetto hears the query regarding his name. Humming thoughtfully, he considers the pronunciation and shrugs after a short while. “It’s spelt V-e-g-e-t-t-o. The other names they considered when I was first made were embarrassin’, man. No flare, no grandeur, nothin’!”

Shaking his head in (mostly) playful despair, Vegetto resumes the consumption of the very nice, very filling meal before him. A strange allure of serenity threatens to fall over him, but he’s not daft enough to allow it. Friendly as they seem so far, he won’t put it below them to attack when he’s more open. More vulnerable. Weak…

Frowning, Vegetto finishes the meal in heavy silence. Help never comes free and he wonders what reward they seek. What debt they expect to be paid. Sighing gently, the cutlery he used is placed neatly over his well-used plate and his elbows come up to rest on the table. Linking his hands together, he leans forward enough to press his mouth against the back of them, essentially hiding the mild grimace settling in. “So, what’s the catch? No one’s nice for free. Why’re you helpin’ me?”

[fxsiondance]

A heavy sigh pulls from the dance fusion, his assumptions will remain assumptions until facts are presented before him, based on Vegito's reaction (amusement and tension) damn near mirroring the other one now purposely floating above them and further draining himself all that much more quickly. He makes no move to follow after the other, tilting his head up instead to raise a single brow. He'd be a fool to not hear the hidden venom in the other's tone. Clearly his presence wasn't a good one for the other, that causes confusion but also some worry. Was the other one around? Could he be responsible for this ones state? He...doesn't like the implications of that.

"Our dimension. Please lower your ki before you drag Vegeta and Goku here. I'd rather avoid the headache." He has to mentally grip at his own vocal cords to try and soften his normally baritone voice, trying to appear as non threatening as possible. A fight here wouldn't benefit any of them. "We don't want to fight, you clearly need res-Vegito!" Vegito does not share Gogeta's attempts to stay on the ground, instead floating up towards the other because no way is he being outdone by some other him appearing here, especially with the blatant venom thrown his and Gogeta's way, the smile on his face showing some of his fangs. "Startled by the golden garden snake, don't bother he's easy to swat." The words sting, he can see the twitch in the dance fusion, shifting as if it would hide the ghastly scar that mars his abdomen. More of a teasing tone than anything before he lets it all slide away, deciding being serious would probably be more beneficial in this scenario. Tail twitching behind him before he sighs, holding out specifically the hand he can't feel anything in out to the other.

"Listen... I don't know what's befallen you but I can tell that you need rest and probably a decent meal. We can at least provide that and a decent place to rest, then you can go on your way again."

[otherworldlyki]

‘Our dimension’. Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Vegetto refrains the rude gesture of rolling his eyes out of his head and refuses to lower his guard despite what the Metamoran fusion claims. Irresponsibly foolhardy as his nature is, it doesn’t come twined with foolishness. Both strangers are nuts if they expect him to trust them on weak words alone. Although, the simple mention of those two names snatches up his curiosity unfairly. As always when it comes to his creators, learning about them (or even finding them in alternate places) is a veritable vulnerability. Without his consent, he sheds a slither of tension from his shoulders and weary gaze.

“They’re alive here?” Not what he wanted to ask but a worthy question, nonetheless. Where he hails from, only memories remain. Recollections and heartache. A real travesty, considering the two fusions coexisting alongside them in this realm. Still, he won’t refute the probability; their happiness means plenty to him.

Other him distracts Vegetto from bittersweet thoughts, uncertainty arising in his expression at the continued placating mannerisms shot his way. Earnestly if no suffering exists here, he can try putting faith in what the Dance fusion below says. They come in peace and want no conflict. A startling difference from the other Metamoran he’s had the displeasure of meeting. Calculating eyes flick between the floating mirror of himself and the golden newcomer below, considering… With a small huff of air that blows his bangs out his face (fruitlessly), he concedes with the notion of not being in immediate peril and nods his ascent.

“Fine, you’ve convinced me.” The tone suggests humour behind the words, but his sheer exhaustion distorts it wildly. Waving away any helping hands aloft for him to take, Vegetto floats back earthbound and his booted feet touchdown smoothly. The strain of his energy lessens and without anything to do with them, his arms fold over his front securely. “Lead the way, o’ welcomin’ party. Before I waste away from starvation.”

[otherworldlyki]

@kxkarot - from this ask.

⋆★⋆★⋆

The grin stays. It strengthens even, with each response given by his peppy creator. Of all plausible reactions, flabbergasted bewilderment is the most amusing. Animated as his memories cherish, Vegetto permits being dragged around like a misshapen balloon, content to keep floating. Still upside down, too, but headrush isn’t pestering him thus far.

“Mm, the one ‘n only!” he chirps jovially at Goku sputtering out his name. As much as he despises repeating himself… what a novel experience. Far and few folks know of his name and one of the two people he never expected to utter it has! A sensation of serenity flocks to his mind at noting the fields of farming and peaceful area. In this time and place, he doesn’t exist, and they aren’t gone. “Wanna tie a string ‘n I’ll pretend to be a real balloon?”

He's hilarious, trust him.

It’s on his second examination of how well Goku seems that he spies the tail. Immediate envy hits him from being bereft of such but equal volumes of appreciation smother it. Mirth filters into his expression at Goku’s clear confusion over his living status and Vegetto decides it’s time to put him out of his technical misery.

“Got stuck years back,” sounds the easy admittance, enough blood rushing to his head starts a low throbbing that will worsen if he stays. Gracefully, without shaking off his creator, Vegetto rightens his inverted self and sits casually in the air. Head tilting inquisitively as he considers the query about how it feels, he represses the… unsavoury sentiments and focuses on the merrier side. “It’s fun, that’s for sure. So’s jumpin’ through time ‘n space but that’s another story.”

Disturbing the grip for now, Vegetto unravels his ‘seated’ self and hovers closer to where Dragon Balls are curiously stored. “Why ya got all these here? A dangerous thing, y’know. Too many shitheads that wanna take advantage.” Dispelling that train of thought with a brief shake of his head, he finally lands, and his hands find purchase on his hips. “So, tell me about your farm. Never took you for a gardener.” He grins affably.

[screenshotsofdespair]

[fxsiondance]

"Says the one crashing through a wormhole looking like he's on King Yemma's door."

He scoffs, arms folding across his chest as he surveys the other, exhaustion is bone deep in the other version of him. He's not sure but perhaps using a few different letters in the name would be the appropriate version of the name? Who knows. He's heard many iterations mostly from the Z-Fighter's throwing it around. In the distance he can feel a ki alike his own stir, the other had a knack for being keen about him. Following shortly after him to keep an eye on him, they were a duo at times. Most of the time however they ended up separated by time and space, often trying to reunite before harm could befall one another. The Demon's Conquest had changed them both, their views and more.

The other appears half delusional, if his tap to the other's earrings proved it or perhaps he didn't need them either? He didn't feel like finding out as his tail wraps around his waist, refusing to convey any further emotions as he sighs. "You burst out of the water right as I was about to be on my way, nobody expects some random dude to suddenly drop on him from the river of all things." A flux in the air next to him has him turning his head, features turning far more jovial. Especially when Gogeta shows up, clearly confused, a bit worried if the bristled fur is anything and annoyance.

"You said you'd avoid trouble- what in the name of..."

Turquoise eyes scanning the other Vegito laying on the ground, who seems to be going through some type of mental crisis with his arrival. He crouches down slightly besides the other fusion, confusion on his face as he looks at the earrings before back to Vegito. The other's eyes gazing above his head reminds him the halo was still persisting, a rumble in his throat to get the other's attention who chuckles. "Stop looking at that. Focus. Why is he so drained?" "Well he did just come flying out of a wormhole at me. Wait? His Ki's low too?" "You can't tell?" "Well...No. I almost stabbed him because he startled me."

"Whatever. Let's get him to his feet and someplace better to rest then. Striking a conversation with him while he's this tried won't provide any answers." One hand extending to the potara wearer down on the ground. Golden tail curled behind him.

[otherworldlyki]

Well, Vegetto can’t contend that fact. He had unceremoniously collided with the other him without so much as an advanced greeting. Zero remorse sits in his overworked grin, languidly investigating the strange-yet-familiar fusion’s disposition. Seemingly more wary than he finds himself when meeting new people, but he supposes finding a mirror image of oneself isn’t an everyday thing. He lets the minute petulance slide and makes no motions to sit up from his relaxed state. Who knows, if other him quietens down a little, it’s a suitable place for a nap, indeed.

Far too caught up in half-listening to the other him while half-admiring the tail he spotted, Vegetto fails to notice another energy approaching. Perchance it not being outwardly hostile is his excuse, but silently he admits he’s not at his best. Or most attentive. Or—

A blond flame of hair immediately catches his attention and Vegetto’s whole form goes rigid. The likeness of the pesky menace tailing him is uncanny, of course, tail and all, but there’s an obscure addition that his personal hellion doesn’t carry. A halo. Fluctuating allegedly, that or his wavering diligence is to blame. Hard pressed to care much, he retains his silence for now and struggles to relax his body. Cynical acidity befalls his steady gaze, withholding an outright glare for the moment.

They chatter amiably, the other him and other menace. Clearly, companionship was founded between the fusions, so perhaps this Metamoran isn’t batshit insane. …Yet. Suppressing the bristling sensation at his noticeably lacklustre energy reserves (currently), Vegetto snorts softly in contempt when the purportedly friendly hand is held out for him to obviously grasp. Tired he may be, idiotic he is not.

Tilting his head defiantly at the Dance fusion too much in his personal space, Vegetto shoots up from the ground recklessly, wasting more of his limited cache stubbornly. Refusing to touch back down to solid ground in the meantime, he settles on floating a head or two above the fusions below. Legs folded below him as though he perches on something solid, his arms mimic the posture, indicating clearly how closed-off he’s willing to be. Narrowed eyes examine both in a new light of ‘growing potential threat’ and the earlier comradery for other him is lost.

“Keep talkin’ about me like I’m invisible, go on.” His tone is friendly enough for those who know nothing of him, the venom lacing it sweetly is discreet. “Where am I ‘n what’re you both doing here?”

[fxsiondance]

@otherworldlyki

A few beads of water rolls down his face above his eyes, brushing it away with his hand. The day was hot and he'd already thrown himself into the water once trying to beat the heat, even still here he was again splashing his face with water to try and cool off. Hopping dimensions still hadn't provided any clues to curing his affliction and it seemed every step just took him two steps back. Frustration brewing in his heart as he splashes water up into his face again, the cold washing away frustration and so forth as he breathes. No he was getting closer, it was just taking time. He rises from his crouched position, tapping at the device around his upper arm and preparing for the world to change around h- He's absolutely blindsided as space and time abruptly rip right next to him, from the water's surface and something crashes into him with enough force for it to hurt! A hand rushing out to try and find the ground, he grunts as he smashes into the dirt, the weight is heavy, catching him entirely off guard. Heels digging into the dirt to try and remain standing, it's no use as he's sent crashing down. A growl accompanying the yell of outrage from the potara warrior, warrior mind rushing through multiple scenario's as he moves, gripping tightly at whatever could possibly be attacking him and forming a ki blade.

"The hell?"

His voice coming out in a rasp, for the figure that's all but crumbled upon him is none other than himself? Another version of himself? His gaze shifting over to the wormhole that sputters, as if someone else had been trying to use it as well before it closes. Brows furrowing before he slowly sits up, dismissing the ki blade as he gazes over a figure similar to his own, though he can't see the scars he has so it's clear this is a different version. Tail sweeping across the grass before he exhales. One finger tapping at the other's earrings, hoping to jolt him into some form of awareness. "I'm not a pillow."

[otherworldlyki]

Admittedly, Vegetto’s control over a jump wasn’t always perfect. Often, he aimed for uninhabited planes or vast expanses of open skies. Sometimes, there wasn’t the choice for leisurely decision making and he hopped through the first tear in time or space available to his current energy level. As it were, combining three sleepless nights with post-battle adrenaline culminated in the least contained plunge thus far. Erratic and brash, the tumble he took and impending crash landing wasn’t a great surprise. What is follows shortly, succeeding an amusingly startled exclamation of ‘the hell’ in a voice mirroring his own.

“Huh?” queries Vegetto, wonderfully brilliant in his disorientation. Blinking lazily around from his awkwardly uncomfortable perch on the floor, swiftness eludes him in wanting to relocate. Head muggy with the particular strain he set on himself for this reckless leap, he considers ignoring anything for a quick catnap. Clasping on that idea with greedy hands desperate for sleep, he rubs idly at his cheek with one hand and stretches the other overhead, then stifling a yawn. “Hmm…?”

Curiosity flares in his fatigued mind when he spots movement in the grass below him. A tail swishes to and fro, captivating him briefly. Odd how he recalls a distant memory of having one himself—no wait, they did, he’s never he concludes with a light frown—and he wonders why one loiters here. Beneath him. On the odd substrate that fails to provide any discernible comfort. And speaks to him—oh.

“Ah…? ‘Cha doing down there?” Vegetto murmurs with genuine bewilderment lacing his tone, finally spotting the individual he’s camping out on. “My bad, I knocked you over? Heh, shoulda watched out better.”

Finally, he deigns himself recovered enough to not flail embarrassingly (or lose his precarious balance) and simply rolls off the poor soul he squashed. Once, twice, until he ceases on a bedding of soft grass now, far more cosy than the lumpy… duplicate of himself? Huh. Today really was a strange one, he muses with slight disbelief. Again, much surprise evades him from all the hell he’s experienced thus far.

“Better?” he asks with a soft grin accompanying the playful tone. Stretched out on the ground carelessly, he rests his head upon arms folded behind his head. Mild alertness swirls in the extensive inspection his gaze gives the other him, seeking out any immediate dangers. He finds none. “Shit balance if I can take you down, y’know?”

[jazz-writes]

Act my age?

What the fuck is that, “act my age”?

What do I care how old I am?

The Ocean is old as fuck.

It will still drown your ass with vigor.

- the greatest thing I have ever read

[narc0path]

fuck forgiving and forgetting I need to bash his face into unrecognisable mush

[mothercain-deactivated20231124]

violence IS the answer, actually

[desultory-suggestions]

You deserve to be happy. You shouldn’t have to give up your joy for the people around you.

[adalocs]

[keyblack]

BIG BANG...

...KAMEHAMEHA!!!

[rpmusings-galore]

i don’t want to be the bigger person.  i want to punch them in the fucking face.