03-06-2016, 04:08 PM
Gah! It got cut off!
Bardock narrowed his eyes, as what remained of his opponent writhed on the ground in agony. It eluded him how the monster could be so damn resilient. Most of its face was intact, but the entire left side, including his eye, had been shredded. For a moment, he remembered that dying look on Selipa’s face, and then quickly dismissed it from his mind. This was not a saiyan. This was some pink freak who refused to fucking well die!
Giving in to the anger that surged through his frame, Bardock lumbered towards his fallen adversary, snatching them up by the one leg they still held. Loosing a bestial roar, he swung the limp, battered form of Super Buu around and around before letting go. The ruined creation was sent smashing through the base of a nearby building, his already-wrecked skull nearly buckling under the pressure of being forced through office blocks again and again at impossible speeds. Finally, the momentum of the superhuman throw ran out, and the tattered remains of Super Buu slid to a stop.
The world began to fade. Slowly, the pain subsided, only for its vacancy to be gradually filled by an all-encompassing numbness.
At that point, he could have given up. He could have just lain there and let himself be swept away in death’s comforting embrace. It would have been so easy. His one remaining eye closed.
Do not give up.
Buu snapped awake, only to find himself floating in some kind of void. It was vaguely reminiscent of those vivid dreams he had where he spoke to the planet Puttalin, but there were no stars — only blackness. He opened his mouth to speak, and to his surprise found that it was in complete working order.
“Who’s there?”
As if to answer his question, a cold, metallic feeling touched the majin’s hand. He looked down to find he was holding his sword.
I know thou art stronger than this.
Buu’s red pupils widened. “No…” he whispered. “You’re dead…”
Zanshin.
“I KILLED YOU!” he screamed.
Thou must return to the battle, ordered the voice. If thou dost not wake up, thou will die.
A shiver ran through the majin’s body. “Why should you care whether I live or die?” he demanded, aware of the fact that his body temperature seemed to be dropping. “I—I killed all those you cared about!”
Because, murmured the voice of Zanshin, If thou diest, Aurilani will have nobody left. Whilst thou lie here, feeling sorry for thyself, thy friends are still out there, fighting for the fate of the planet. They all need thee, Majin Buu!
Buu was silent for a moment. “But how?” he argued. “I’m already gone. My body’s destroyed, and I don’t have any energy left to regenerate. I can’t win with half a body.”
Use me…
A jolting sensation pulsed through the majin’s body, as if he had been struck by a bolt of lightning. The fact that he was in agony confirmed the fact that he was alive. But what had Zanshin meant? Use him?
And then, suddenly, it clicked. Without even looking, Buu clenched his right hand, and felt the reassuring presence of his sword’s hilt. He understood now. He didn’t need to regenerate.
~*~*~*~
As he walked past the toppled building, Bardock began to wish he hadn’t been so hasty in throwing his opponent through it. Surely that pink monstrosity would be dead by now, but finding his corpse amongst all this wreckage would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The saiyan spat distastefully. Maybe the coward had run away, just like in Dante’s Abyss…
“Looking for someone?”
Teal eyes widening, Bardock spun in midair. But too late. What felt like a wrecking ball collided with his face, smashing him backwards and leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Catching himself against the ground, the Super Saiyan looked up. And his eyes refused to believe what they saw.
Buu had a full body once more. But not one of pure puttalin. Metal had molded over the monster’s injuries, standing in for old limbs, even managing to replicate that self-satisfied smirk. A red glow emanated from the majin’s left eye, which swiveled mechanically in its newly-made socket.
Now, not only Super Buu fought. But Zanshin, too.
Bardock shook his head disbelievingly, irritation filling his features. “Why don’t you just die?” he growled.
“Because!” Buu roared —
“I have people who care about me!”
Bardock looked incredulously up at his half-metal, half-puttalin adversary. “Because people… because people care about you?” The brawler let a mocking snort escape his nose. “Is this some kind of joke? Do you actually believe that makes any difference?”
Buu’s face hardened, both real and artificial eyes glaring into those of his foe. “Don’t mock me,” he growled. Raising his single metallic hand, the monster stared into his own transformed reflection before speaking again. “It’s the truth.” He added as a memory flashed before him.
“Have you ever seen a person throw themselves in front of a bullet to save a friend’s life, or a mother who has lost their child? When a loved one faces imminent danger, people can do great things. Therein lies the greatest power, and your most tragic downfall, Buu. You wall yourself off from such feelings, thinking that it gives you power. Security. Understand, Buu that those who fight for others…” Vine glanced over at Zanshin, who still wore the armor of his ancestors. “Have something much more than those who do it for themselves.”
The majin looked up from his thoughts, and back over at his opponent. The Super Saiyan reminded Buu so much of his old self. He seemed to put up a wall of nonchalance, distancing himself from feelings and emotion. He was afraid. Afraid of opening his heart.
Bardock spat dismissively. “Enough,” he sneered. “I’m sick of listening to your self-righteous bullshit. This ends now.”
Supes clenched his metal fist. There would be no changing the saiyan’s mind. Not if he was anything like the old Super Buu. “Fine,” he growled. “Have it your way.”
The two warriors clashed, locking into each other’s grasps like a pair of fighting bulls. They tussled and rolled around in midair, each desperately struggling, vying for dominance. Their eyes burned furiously. It was all or nothing — win or die. Until one of them fell, the fight would go on.
Rearing his arm back, the Super Saiyan slammed his fist into Buu’s face — again, and again, and again, denting it more and more with each strike. Finally the monster’s grip slackened, and Bardock took the opportunity to break the hold with a ruthless backhanded slap. Buu was sent careening into a nearby skyscraper, causing bricks and mortar to loosen and cover the area.
Bardock waved aside a cloud of dust, trying to figure out where his enemy had gone. Squinting through the mist, he could just about make out what seemed to be a hand-sized sphere, approaching at high speed. Instinctively, the saiyan brought his hands up to catch it, and gave a pained grunt as he was pushed backwards by the sheer power of the projectile. Holding it tightly between his palms, Bardock inspected the object. It looked like a silver shot-put, except — it was trembling.
By itself, the sphere was harmless. Buried deep inside, however, there lay a powerful catalyst. A piece of Buu himself, charged with energy — otherwise known as a Puttalin Bomb. Had Bardock realized what he held, there might have been a chance of him reacting in time. But unfortunately for the saiyan, there were some things instincts couldn’t warn you about. All it took was that one moment of hesitation, that one lapse in common sense. And then—
BOOM.
All Bardock could feel was the cold metal entering his body, slicing through his flesh like butter. The saiyan was thrown backwards like a rag doll, shrapnel embedded in his face, arms and torso. His expression was that of surprise — for a moment, he didn’t realise what the fuck had happened. Then he hit the ground, and understood;
He’d lost the battle.
Buu drifted downwards, forelock trailing as if caught in an updraft. Landing on the broken pavement, he staggered for a moment before collapsing onto his knees. Almost immediately his head-tail began to shrink, and his face resumed its regular flat, featureless look — save for the metal plating still on the left side. All he wanted to do was rest and recover; but first he had to confirm his kill. It would be a fine thing to win the battle, and then be murdered in his sleep.
It wasn’t long before his red-black eyes fell upon the body of his victim. The once-feared Empire Captain lay soaking in a pool of his own blood. And yet, even with a length of metal protruding from his forehead, Bardock clung to life. Shallow breaths swept in and out of the saiyan’s chest. Buu crawled over, his face an expression of grim resolve.
Bardock opened his mouth when he saw the majin approaching. “Heh — well — if it ain’t the pink freak.” His vision slid in and out of focus. “Guess you’ve come to… finish me off, eh?”
“There’s no point,” spat Buu, getting shakily to his feet. “You’ve already lost.” As he leaned on his metal leg for support and turned away, a voice stopped him.
“Don’t… walk away.”
Buu turned around, and his eyes widened. Bardock was on his feet, panting, eyes narrowed.
The majin frowned, and opened his mouth. “What are you—”
“You… heard… me…” struggled the saiyan in short gasps, taking uneasy steps forward. “Kill me… if you’ve got the balls, pinky.”
Buu reared back a fist, face contorting in anger ? and then stopped. He snarled. “Why are you…”
In an instant, Bardock lurched forward, gripping his adversary’s shoulders. “Just do it! KILL ME!”
Super pushed the saiyan backwards onto the floor, only to find himself covered in the blood of his rival. “I’m taking mercy on you…” he hissed insistently. “You would really choose death over that?”
Bardock pushed himself off the ground, spitting out blood. “You wouldn’t understand, monster.”
Buu was silent for a moment. Then he spoke. “No… I do understand.” His mouth was arched downward as he raised his puttalin hand up to his face. “You see… I too have saiyan blood.”
“Then you know what has to be done,” growled Bardock. “Kill me, and grant me a warrior’s death.”
Buu hesitated — and then nodded. He had once been like Bardock, living only for himself. His pride had been his only companion. He would rather be dead than compromise his honor. The majin’s metal arm gleamed, and slowly began to mold into the shape of a long knife.
“Before I die…” rumbled the black-haired bruiser, “tell me your name. The name of the one who killed me.”
The monster raised his knife-arm. “Super Buu.”
“Bardock.”
The blade descended. And, as if that one motion had drained the last of his energy, Buu fell backwards into dreamless sleep.
Bardock, the proud saiyan warrior, was dead.
Bardock narrowed his eyes, as what remained of his opponent writhed on the ground in agony. It eluded him how the monster could be so damn resilient. Most of its face was intact, but the entire left side, including his eye, had been shredded. For a moment, he remembered that dying look on Selipa’s face, and then quickly dismissed it from his mind. This was not a saiyan. This was some pink freak who refused to fucking well die!
Giving in to the anger that surged through his frame, Bardock lumbered towards his fallen adversary, snatching them up by the one leg they still held. Loosing a bestial roar, he swung the limp, battered form of Super Buu around and around before letting go. The ruined creation was sent smashing through the base of a nearby building, his already-wrecked skull nearly buckling under the pressure of being forced through office blocks again and again at impossible speeds. Finally, the momentum of the superhuman throw ran out, and the tattered remains of Super Buu slid to a stop.
The world began to fade. Slowly, the pain subsided, only for its vacancy to be gradually filled by an all-encompassing numbness.
At that point, he could have given up. He could have just lain there and let himself be swept away in death’s comforting embrace. It would have been so easy. His one remaining eye closed.
Do not give up.
Buu snapped awake, only to find himself floating in some kind of void. It was vaguely reminiscent of those vivid dreams he had where he spoke to the planet Puttalin, but there were no stars — only blackness. He opened his mouth to speak, and to his surprise found that it was in complete working order.
“Who’s there?”
As if to answer his question, a cold, metallic feeling touched the majin’s hand. He looked down to find he was holding his sword.
I know thou art stronger than this.
Buu’s red pupils widened. “No…” he whispered. “You’re dead…”
Zanshin.
“I KILLED YOU!” he screamed.
Thou must return to the battle, ordered the voice. If thou dost not wake up, thou will die.
A shiver ran through the majin’s body. “Why should you care whether I live or die?” he demanded, aware of the fact that his body temperature seemed to be dropping. “I—I killed all those you cared about!”
Because, murmured the voice of Zanshin, If thou diest, Aurilani will have nobody left. Whilst thou lie here, feeling sorry for thyself, thy friends are still out there, fighting for the fate of the planet. They all need thee, Majin Buu!
Buu was silent for a moment. “But how?” he argued. “I’m already gone. My body’s destroyed, and I don’t have any energy left to regenerate. I can’t win with half a body.”
Use me…
A jolting sensation pulsed through the majin’s body, as if he had been struck by a bolt of lightning. The fact that he was in agony confirmed the fact that he was alive. But what had Zanshin meant? Use him?
And then, suddenly, it clicked. Without even looking, Buu clenched his right hand, and felt the reassuring presence of his sword’s hilt. He understood now. He didn’t need to regenerate.
~*~*~*~
As he walked past the toppled building, Bardock began to wish he hadn’t been so hasty in throwing his opponent through it. Surely that pink monstrosity would be dead by now, but finding his corpse amongst all this wreckage would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The saiyan spat distastefully. Maybe the coward had run away, just like in Dante’s Abyss…
“Looking for someone?”
Teal eyes widening, Bardock spun in midair. But too late. What felt like a wrecking ball collided with his face, smashing him backwards and leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Catching himself against the ground, the Super Saiyan looked up. And his eyes refused to believe what they saw.
Buu had a full body once more. But not one of pure puttalin. Metal had molded over the monster’s injuries, standing in for old limbs, even managing to replicate that self-satisfied smirk. A red glow emanated from the majin’s left eye, which swiveled mechanically in its newly-made socket.
Now, not only Super Buu fought. But Zanshin, too.
Bardock shook his head disbelievingly, irritation filling his features. “Why don’t you just die?” he growled.
“Because!” Buu roared —
“I have people who care about me!”
Bardock looked incredulously up at his half-metal, half-puttalin adversary. “Because people… because people care about you?” The brawler let a mocking snort escape his nose. “Is this some kind of joke? Do you actually believe that makes any difference?”
Buu’s face hardened, both real and artificial eyes glaring into those of his foe. “Don’t mock me,” he growled. Raising his single metallic hand, the monster stared into his own transformed reflection before speaking again. “It’s the truth.” He added as a memory flashed before him.
“Have you ever seen a person throw themselves in front of a bullet to save a friend’s life, or a mother who has lost their child? When a loved one faces imminent danger, people can do great things. Therein lies the greatest power, and your most tragic downfall, Buu. You wall yourself off from such feelings, thinking that it gives you power. Security. Understand, Buu that those who fight for others…” Vine glanced over at Zanshin, who still wore the armor of his ancestors. “Have something much more than those who do it for themselves.”
The majin looked up from his thoughts, and back over at his opponent. The Super Saiyan reminded Buu so much of his old self. He seemed to put up a wall of nonchalance, distancing himself from feelings and emotion. He was afraid. Afraid of opening his heart.
Bardock spat dismissively. “Enough,” he sneered. “I’m sick of listening to your self-righteous bullshit. This ends now.”
Supes clenched his metal fist. There would be no changing the saiyan’s mind. Not if he was anything like the old Super Buu. “Fine,” he growled. “Have it your way.”
The two warriors clashed, locking into each other’s grasps like a pair of fighting bulls. They tussled and rolled around in midair, each desperately struggling, vying for dominance. Their eyes burned furiously. It was all or nothing — win or die. Until one of them fell, the fight would go on.
Rearing his arm back, the Super Saiyan slammed his fist into Buu’s face — again, and again, and again, denting it more and more with each strike. Finally the monster’s grip slackened, and Bardock took the opportunity to break the hold with a ruthless backhanded slap. Buu was sent careening into a nearby skyscraper, causing bricks and mortar to loosen and cover the area.
Bardock waved aside a cloud of dust, trying to figure out where his enemy had gone. Squinting through the mist, he could just about make out what seemed to be a hand-sized sphere, approaching at high speed. Instinctively, the saiyan brought his hands up to catch it, and gave a pained grunt as he was pushed backwards by the sheer power of the projectile. Holding it tightly between his palms, Bardock inspected the object. It looked like a silver shot-put, except — it was trembling.
By itself, the sphere was harmless. Buried deep inside, however, there lay a powerful catalyst. A piece of Buu himself, charged with energy — otherwise known as a Puttalin Bomb. Had Bardock realized what he held, there might have been a chance of him reacting in time. But unfortunately for the saiyan, there were some things instincts couldn’t warn you about. All it took was that one moment of hesitation, that one lapse in common sense. And then—
BOOM.
All Bardock could feel was the cold metal entering his body, slicing through his flesh like butter. The saiyan was thrown backwards like a rag doll, shrapnel embedded in his face, arms and torso. His expression was that of surprise — for a moment, he didn’t realise what the fuck had happened. Then he hit the ground, and understood;
He’d lost the battle.
Buu drifted downwards, forelock trailing as if caught in an updraft. Landing on the broken pavement, he staggered for a moment before collapsing onto his knees. Almost immediately his head-tail began to shrink, and his face resumed its regular flat, featureless look — save for the metal plating still on the left side. All he wanted to do was rest and recover; but first he had to confirm his kill. It would be a fine thing to win the battle, and then be murdered in his sleep.
It wasn’t long before his red-black eyes fell upon the body of his victim. The once-feared Empire Captain lay soaking in a pool of his own blood. And yet, even with a length of metal protruding from his forehead, Bardock clung to life. Shallow breaths swept in and out of the saiyan’s chest. Buu crawled over, his face an expression of grim resolve.
Bardock opened his mouth when he saw the majin approaching. “Heh — well — if it ain’t the pink freak.” His vision slid in and out of focus. “Guess you’ve come to… finish me off, eh?”
“There’s no point,” spat Buu, getting shakily to his feet. “You’ve already lost.” As he leaned on his metal leg for support and turned away, a voice stopped him.
“Don’t… walk away.”
Buu turned around, and his eyes widened. Bardock was on his feet, panting, eyes narrowed.
The majin frowned, and opened his mouth. “What are you—”
“You… heard… me…” struggled the saiyan in short gasps, taking uneasy steps forward. “Kill me… if you’ve got the balls, pinky.”
Buu reared back a fist, face contorting in anger ? and then stopped. He snarled. “Why are you…”
In an instant, Bardock lurched forward, gripping his adversary’s shoulders. “Just do it! KILL ME!”
Super pushed the saiyan backwards onto the floor, only to find himself covered in the blood of his rival. “I’m taking mercy on you…” he hissed insistently. “You would really choose death over that?”
Bardock pushed himself off the ground, spitting out blood. “You wouldn’t understand, monster.”
Buu was silent for a moment. Then he spoke. “No… I do understand.” His mouth was arched downward as he raised his puttalin hand up to his face. “You see… I too have saiyan blood.”
“Then you know what has to be done,” growled Bardock. “Kill me, and grant me a warrior’s death.”
Buu hesitated — and then nodded. He had once been like Bardock, living only for himself. His pride had been his only companion. He would rather be dead than compromise his honor. The majin’s metal arm gleamed, and slowly began to mold into the shape of a long knife.
“Before I die…” rumbled the black-haired bruiser, “tell me your name. The name of the one who killed me.”
The monster raised his knife-arm. “Super Buu.”
“Bardock.”
The blade descended. And, as if that one motion had drained the last of his energy, Buu fell backwards into dreamless sleep.
Bardock, the proud saiyan warrior, was dead.