10-06-2013, 06:27 AM
It was a place that had no name. There were signs, of course, but those were to be expected. Every building was made of old boards and wind-blasted stone. Each gust against shutters and shingles caused a creak and a whistle to echo through the streets. The roads were paved down by tracks and wheels, causing a stony surface for coming and going. Several horses were tethered to the side of a building. The town had an archway at its entrance, which read:
There were bullet holes in the posts that held the arch up. They were old, burnt things, the spent bullets long since retrieved. It was anyone’s guess whether the unsuspecting guests had perished or limped away in fear, only to perish off in the sun.
A harmonica could be heard in the distance, the sweet melody trickling down with the current of the wind. It was forlorn, in a way, much like this town. There were only a few men hanging out in the streets and on the porches of the various establishments. Each one of them had a dusty hat on their head, boots up past their ankles, and a gruff exterior that spoke volumes. More than one cowboy had a hand on their pistol, holstered on their hip, as they watched with suspicious eyes.
One had to wonder if these characters were merely a program, an imbedded security, to keep the town on edge. They might stay up all day and night watching for travelers to fire bullets at. The Omniverse was a strange, fickle place, where rules weren’t the same as they once were.
A window shutter banged with a gust of wind. The distinct sounds of an old piano twanged, mixing with the distant harmonica. Rowdy voices fell from behind the swinging doors of the saloon. It smelt of liquor and piss, sweat and perfume. There were a few cowboys, young and reckless, that came stumbling out of the watering hole with arms over shoulders. An old joke lingered on their laughing lips and they struggled against each other onto the dusty road.
One said something to the other. A clumsy fist lifted, and soon enough, they were rolling about on the ground slinging slurred insults. Two older men came by and pulled them apart. The scene took several minutes to dissolve. By then, one youth had a broken, bloody nose, and the other was merely disheveled from the fall.
It was beginning to approach nightfall. The heat would die off like a lit candle, sputtering, and replaced by creeping coldness. It was already beginning to cool off as the sunlight dipped closer toward the horizon and cast a mighty glow all down the roads and alleys. There were long shadows splashing the ground, and the sides of the buildings, like specters.
The cold of night was met with the heat of trade. It was when the sun fell that the women came out, their long dresses hitched up, their faces a mask of makeup and faux admiration. Cheap perfume cloyed the air and masked all bitterness of the body. They all had something in common, in that they were not the fairest of women. Some were old, some were large, others were sick with some disease. They were clinging to the doorways of the saloon, the inn, and playing innocent with cowboys on the watch.
All these things built toward a bigger picture. The town was barely hanging together. All evidence pointed toward barbaric attacks from the bandits living in the desert. There was a serious lack of effort put into maintaining the town as a place to live, rather, as a place to survive.
It was with cool confidence, but with a cautious gaze, that Ganondorf entered the Town With No Name. The arch shuddered in the wind above his head, and crows glared down, waiting for their next meal.
Through windows, frightened faces drew back, and cloth drapes were pulled a fraction to the side. Upon closer inspection, there were children, but they were willowy things clutching at the skirts of their mothers. People stayed within their wooden homes, but curiosity led them to peek from behind doorways. The only ones that didn’t stay hidden were the men who kept watch.
One man pushed aside a whore, and pulled out his gun. A wad of tobacco splattered on the ground with a squelch. Two more cowboys came forward, jumping off wooden decks and coming from between buildings. A horse whickered nervously and pulled its head back, causing the wooden bar to groan against the strain of the leather knot.
“What’a we got here?” said the youngest of the lot. His blond hair was windswept from lack of a hat. He held an amused grin of sorts.
“Don’t look like bandits, them,” said another, although he was much older. His teeth were brown, rotted, mostly missing. He spat a gob of saliva and wiped at his mouth with a dusty sleeve. His hand held his pistol, finger on the trigger. “Never know, though.”
Ganondorf continued into the town, slowly approaching the gathering of men with their guns and their glares. The heat of the setting sun was on his backside, keeping him warm, but it would soon fade with the light.
Meanwhile, as the horse cantered forward through dust and grit, the android’s limp body gave little to no response. It had been a well placed chop of Ganondorf’s hand that sent her into oblivion. She was a world away from home, and a world away from Omniverse. It would be a matter of time before she roused, and then, it would be up to Ganondorf as to how well he played his cards against the girl.
Then again, if the cowboys gave them more than they could chew, they would both be in a world of trouble. The Desert King was still recovering from his fight with the android. With her out of commission, there was no doubt how the battle would end.
--
Namek-Sei was beautiful. It was always beautiful, with it's azure skies and emerald oceans. The planet was primarily comprised of oceans and lakes, and even it's islands and continents were a seafoam green to match it's waters. The plant life was simple. A variety of shrubbery and stout vegetation grew in patches and thickets. Any villages that did thrive were comprised of domed buildings with nought but a hole for entry.
It never had a night. There were three suns keeping it from ever facing the cold and the dark. It's inhabitants, the Namekian, lived in peace within it's strange climates, bothering no one.
Here was where she had come from. Her blue eyes sweeping across the landscape, shrubs surrounding her as she stood on the cliff. Waves crashed against the stoney wall below. No memories had been there to recall on. It had been fragmented and damaged, like a computer, but she pieced it all together. Dr. Gero was the one who had done this to her, and she would have revenge.
“Eighteen, duck!” said Raditzu, as a blast of searingly hot energy sliced through the air. Her figure fell swiftly, it passed by, but not without causing her skin to singe under the heat.
The battlefield was wrought by explosions and scorch marks. There were tendrils of smoke reaching into the sky, dead fallen trees, and a complete sense of foreboding. Several feet away stood the two figures that had haunted her for years, and in an instant her heart began to beat like a rapid drum.
“Final Flash!” said Vegeta, as his hands combined and the swirling chaotic energy surged forward. It erupted at their feet causing earth and smoke to consume the air. Android Eighteen could only lift her arms up in defence as the energy pushed at her person and made her fight to stand.
“You take care of the woman,” the Saiya-Jin cracked his knuckles, “I want to do away with Raditzu once and for all.”
Koola jumped forward without needing to be told twice. His long, lethe body, white and lavender, moved through the air like the wind. He was fast, too fast for the android, as he wrapped himself around her little body from behind. The tip of his tail threatened her face. It hadn't taken more than a moment of respite between the smoke and the dirt before she was ensnared by her enemy.
“No!” she cried out and fought his hold.
“Thanks for all the hard work getting the Dragon Balls for us,” he hissed into her ear.
She'd never felt so weak, and so powerless, as she had then. His hold was like a vice, choking her, stifling the air from her, a darkness swam in her eyes. Raditzu moved forward to meet Vegeta's attacks, his hair trailing behind him, black as raven's wings. They battled until both bloody, but she could do little more than fall limp in the changelings arms.
Her body shot forward in the darkness, and her eyes searched, until light slowly began to fill the room. Eighteen felt a warmth in the blankets that surrounded her. Her eyes roamed to the left, and there beside her was the Saiya-Jin that had so casually walked into her life.
“A dream,” she said to herself. They were in the Room of Spirit and Time. It was dim here, in the living quarters. She could see past the threshold to where the white went on forever. Where they slept, it was homey, just right. The floors were stone, the bed large, and comfortable. There was a table for eating, a place for showering, and nothing else. Most of their day's were filled with training. It was because of him that she had become to strong. A year had gone by so easily inside that room.
“Eighteen,” his voice filled the silence.
She looked to her left again, and there he was, his big dark eyes, almost black, staring right into hers. All that hair tumbled down over his arm, down his back, it was always so amusing to her. Now, however, she looked at him with a mixture of curiosity, feeling so out of place, and time. His face was serious, but flushed, as he maintained her gaze.
“I love you.”
How do I know how I feel, how do you know how you feel? I'm a machine, or part, but still. I think I love you. I know I have feelings for you. I'm just afraid...
The girl could barely understand what being human was. Her life was a mystery. She had been living day to day, memory to memory, filling up every void so that she could forget what she was. It was hard pretending that she was normal. Even when she had had amnesia, and Raditzu had done everything he could to bring her back to him, it didn't erase the truth that she was not human.
“Do whatever you want, you always do,” she said, and turned to look at him with lips turned downward. They stood in a ruins of an old school. It's windows were shattered, it's seats crumbling and broken. There were old papers yellowed and dirty on the floor. A stray breeze filtered in from outside. It was troubling out there. A sheet of dark, grey clouds were heavy with the threat of a storm.
“I do?” he said quizzically.
The android turned away with a shake of her head. She was done. Done with him, with this, with everything. She found herself walking away from him in silent anger. It was always some tournament, some evil villain, or some...excuse. He took anything to get away. It wasn't many years later that she came to realize that Raditzu had never been trying to get away, rather, he had always been the adventuring type. It was what made him who he was. Maybe that's why she wanted so bad to be just like him.
He met her at the top of the tower, a confused look on his face. Raditzu was older than she was, but that didn't mean he looked it. He was handsome, his chin well defined, his eyes dark and full of mystery. Despite his lack of understanding in the ways of a woman, he tried, and she couldn't walk away.
“I'm sorry. I don't know what I did wrong. I mean, I do, but I think there were a few things that I did wrong. I'm sorry for whatever they were. I'm just not used to this, bade, and I-
The android dropped the towel she'd been wrapped up in. She moved in close, wrapped her arms around him, and stayed that way for a time. “Just tell me that you love me.”
It had been a while. It was such a stupid, simple thing, but she needed it. What she needed more, however, was him. Only a few words needed saying and the girl let the world fall to pieces without them. There would be no running away this time, as she and the Saiya-Jin finally shared more than just a bed together.
--
“Don't look like a cowboy neither.”
Ganondorf had no choice but to halt the process of his entry into the town. Several men stood barring his way from getting any further. His gaze casually look in each one of them, from boots to hats – or hair, for those without a hat – noting guns on each person. They were more pawns than anything. It would have been easy to sweep through them, and continue onwards. However, Ganondorf was not a foolish man. There was no telling how many so-called heroes lived in this town. There was also the off-chance that there would be a prime or two as well.
“I assure you, gentlemen, that I am not a cowboy,” he said at length as he sized them up, and they sized him up. “Neither am I a bandit, as you can see, I come alone.”
“No,” said the youth with the smile. He rested a hand on his hip and indictaed with a nod of his head toward the blonde over Ganondorf's lap. “Not alone.”
“She's not exactly in fighting shape,” said the Gerudo, lifting one of the android's hands and letting it fall limp against the side of the horse.
“I says he's lyin', Willis. I says we string 'em up and let the crows have at 'em.”
The blonde youth turned to the older man who'd spoken out and maintained his cocky smile. “And if he were telling the truth? Don't think the sheriff would want us killing no innocents and what not.”
“Perhaps your sheriff and I could share words? I've come looking to help, after all, and the proof is all here.” His hand patted against Eighteen's back, this time, he chose not to give the wrong impression. “I found this young woman in the desert, delirious, and did all I could to help her. The heat was too much, as you can see, and so I've brought her to this...” his gaze flicked toward the buildings and the people “quaint town.”
“I believe 'em,” said another youthful cowboy further back. “He sounds legit.”
The line of men began to mutter to each other, some were suspicious, others were curious, but they could all agree on one thing. There was no harm in letting one guy through, especially if he was going straight to the sheriff. If he didn't check out, they'd lock him up, that was most certain.
Ganondorf let the blonde boy, Willis, take the reins of his horse. It was a small price, playing the kindly traveller, to get what he wanted. The hooves of his horse clopped and clipped on the hard-packed ground. Whores – brave whores – stood on the patio's lifting their skirts and giving a wink. There were a few choice girls in the lot, but even they were scraps at the bottom of a desperate barrel.
Lights hung haphazardly between the buildings. Bulbs flickered and blinked from the source of electricity. The dim light lit up the main street, filled windows with light, and provided a gentle atmosphere to the otherwise hostile town. Without the light it would have been a cold, dismal place. It seemed to come alive with women showing their goods, men cat-calling, and music playing even more lively from the saloon. A dull hum filled the air as well, it had been unnoticeable until now. “You have electricity here?” the King of Sand asked.
“We sure do,” said the young lad. A few of the other men followed behind a few yards. “Got it from t'other verse, one with them robots and what have you.”
“I see.”
Plans and ideals formulated in his mind as they continued forth. It appeared that, despite being separate, some technology had slipped between realms nonetheless. It would be important to keep this in mind when creating a new kingdom in these wretched lands. Electricity was a powerful tool. If they had that, they could have had any number of other things at their disposal.
“We ought to let the girls take her,” the boy said as Ganondorf dismounted, taking Eighteen with him. The sheriff’s building was just like the others. The source of the humming was from a large, rumbling generator, as it sat emitting smoke and charging the lights with power. A golden glow pooled out from the doorway further allowing visitors to see up the short steps.
Chances were that the girl wouldn't wake til morning. In order to gain trust, trust had to be given, so the desert dweller did what he had to. He let two of the larger cowboys take Eighteen from him, and carry her off toward the saloon. “Now, where is this sheriff of yours? I heard rumours that you're a little worse for wear out here.”
The two went up the steps together, and disappeared into where Ganondorf hoped to secure his place in this game of his.
--
Android Eighteen sat up, her hair a mess all about her face. It was as tangled as straw in a barn. She lifted her hands to her head and pushed the strands back as best she could. It was dark in the room, and quiet, too quiet. Her head was hurting and her stomach felt as if it were housing an eel or two. Her feet slipped out over the edge of the bed, and she stood on jelly legs.
Her hands grasped the curtains and she pulled them apart.
“Argh,” she exclaimed, and took a step back from the sunlight. It was a bright, sunny day, in Central City.
“You're up!”
Eighteen looked over her shoulder at him, her face haggard. “So are you,” she replied coarsely.
“I made waffles,” Raditzu brandished his spatula.
“Again?”
“Yeah, well, you know,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. Raditzu didn't look like the warrior he had once been. He never wore his armour, he was more than happy to learn new ways to cook Mexican food and breakfast. The only thing that hadn't changed was his long hair and his witty humour.
“I can't do this anymore...”
“Why don't you come downstairs and have some waffles.”
“Did you even hear me?” she frowned and faced him fully.
“I even got strawberries for you, so don't say I never did anything for you.” The Saiya-Jin left the room with a wave of the spatula.
“Rad...?” she scratched the side of her head and stared at the doorway. Something wasn't right about this. Her head hurt something fierce, but she couldn't remember why, and that in itself was unusual. Despite their tame life in the city, Eighteen always kept one eye open, and this was one of the reasons why. “Raditzu, wait,” she called as she ran toward the door.
She ran right into him. “What...what are you doing here?” she said, startled, and looked up at Ganondorf.
“Why do you think?” he chuckled in that way of his, and grabbed the android. The desert sun set around them, the winds swept sand across their bodies. She pushed at him.
“No, it was just a dream,” she went to protest, but he didn't hear her, or didn't care, because he had her enraptured in another one of his rough, vile kisses.
Eighteen struggled, the eels in her stomach became butterflies, and more than the heat of the sun flushed her cheeks. She became like a puddle in those big, muscled arms, the smell of sweat and spice filling her senses. There was a roughness to him that she'd never felt before. It was in the way his fingers dug into her sides, and in the way his kiss all but devoured her.
She pushed back enough to rip away from his moist lips. “Stop,” she demanded with eyes made of ice.
“I'll have you saying more,” he murmured heatedly.
“No, you won't.” The blush on her cheeks said otherwise. It was a horrible side effect of being human. The blood in her veins coursed to a different tune. She slapped the so-called King with the flat of her hand and pulled away.
Ganondorf pulled her back. They were back in the Room of Spirit and Time, but this was a lie. She'd confused her memories. It wasn't Raditzu's hands like a vice on her arms. The villainous desert dweller made her scream more than curses in a nightmare that shook her to the bone.
When she woke, it was to a room with a dim, flickering lamp, and the sound of piano music playing a racket downstairs. The thick smell of body odor masked by spices and perfume filled her nostrils.
“Fuck,” she said, and pressed the heel of her palm to her brow. Sweat lined her features, and she shivered, until it became too much and she was rolling off the bed and vomiting onto the floor.
“That bad?” said a voice in the doorway.
“What?” Eighteen asked, looking up as she wiped at her mouth.
“The pain.” The woman was middle aged, wearing only a touch of make-up. Her most beautiful feature was her eyes, being a pale blue not more than a few shades lighter than Eighteen's own. “You were tossing and turning worse than a badger.”
“I...was having a dream,” a heat flushed her cheeks and she got up onto the edge of the bed.
“Ah, one of those,” the woman went to the wash basin across the room, grabbed a towel, and went to clean the mess on the floor.
“Sorry about that,” the android mumbled and rested her elbows on her knees. The heels of her palms buried against her eyes. Her head was pounding hard. The last she remembered she had been cleverly outdone by Ganondorf, and then it was lights out. “Where am I?”
“This is the Town With No Name,” said the whore. “Rumor is you were out in the desert and that man brought you in.”
“Is that so?” Eighteen said, lifting her head from her hands. What sort of game are you playing? she asked herself, and threaded a hand through her hair.
“Have you come from one of them other places?” asked the woman curiously.
“You could say that. I'm not exactly sure where I'm from or where I'm going.” Her mind wandered back to the fight, and she knew that it would be a long time before she would be able to let that loss go. He had made a fool out of her, and now she was here in some town. Could she have been wrong all along? After all, Ganondorf could have killed her. Not that it would have stopped her, but, it would have slowed her down substantially.
“Where is he now, the man who brought me here?” Eighteen asked.
“Talking with the sheriff, word was, not sure how that's going. The boys wanna do him in, but I said let him have his words if that's all he's wanting.”
The android stared at the ground for a time before she stood from the bed. Her body was aching, and she wasn't sure exactly how long it would take to recover. The longer she let the desert man go off and do whatever it was he was doing, the less of a chance she had to stop him.
It was like kissing the sun, she thought to herself, and immediately shook her head of it. “I'm going to go downstairs, if that's alright. I'm...thirsty,” she lied, and didn't wait for an answer. The whole idea of the Omniverse still didn't sit well with her.
Downstairs it was a lively show. There was more than a dozen men playing at dice, having drinks, throwing darts at a board, or sharing a bawdy song. The girl surveyed the scene carefully as she walked down the stairs, and then found herself a spot at the bar where a dark haired man poured drinks for the patrons.
“You're awake,” he said, looking over at Eighteen.
“I am,” she replied.
“We were making bets on whether or not you would die.”
“Well, I guess there will be a few losers in the crowd tonight.”
The bartender laughed, poured her a strong drink, and went to the other side of the bar. Eighteen lifted the glass to her lips, sampled the bittersweet liquor, and then turned on her stool to watch the other visitors in the bar. It might have been a bad idea to have herself a drink, but damn, this headache was fierce.
“Rough night?” a man said beside her.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Eighteen drank back the strong stuff, and set the glass down. “And it's about to get rougher.”
She stood from the bar, ignored the few looks tossed her way, and exited the saloon with a push of the swinging doors. A few girls sat on the patio talking to each other. Further down, against the rail, a man lingered with one of the girls and shared a chuckle and a kiss.
It was straight out of a western story. The buildings were all wooden and, for the most part, dishevelled. She walked down the steps, looked from building to building, and watched the scared faces in the windows. She could only guess that the place was on rough times. There was signs of damage to a few of the homes. More than a few of the horses were thin, in need of better care and food. She spotted ramshackle solar panels on a few roofs, and noticed the constant flicker of the lights as they hung between the buildings.
Her walking took her further toward the center of the small town. A dusty, dried out fountain stood as the central feature. She walked over to it and frowned a little. The town was hanging on by a thread. She couldn't help but wonder why Ganondorf had come here, of all places. She had thought he was going to storm it, take it over...it wouldn't be hard, from what she could tell.
“Wait,” she said aloud and turned as if expecting an attack. There was nothing but the cold and the stars above. Where did the other one go? she wondered. No one had mentioned there being two men, just the one. It didn't sit well with her...
Eighteen sat on the edge of the fountain for a long time. She was in a position where she could claim that Ganondorf meant ill will toward the town. Who would believe her? It was obvious that this place was male dominant. If the desert man meant to help them, it would cast a different light on everything...and she would look the fool. He was up to no good. She could smell the shit a mile away. Then there was the strange cohort that had been in league with the Gerudo. Had they spilt over differences? After all, from what she could see, Ganondorf had kept her alive...and taken her. Perhaps that had changed the plan...or, again, she had been wrong.
Was I so determined to be a hero that I'd heard them wrong? I'm not even half the person I was before. Even if they were up to no good, what the hell could I do? And then, and then... she let her thoughts trail off on the sunset and the sand. It hadn't been real, but Eighteen had always been striving for humanity, and there was nothing more human than that of a kiss. All it did was make her miss Raditzu, feel guilt over the way things had been between them as of late, and cause a hopelessness to well up in her chest.
She looked up to see a figure exit a large building. Light flooded out of the doorway, and then a second figure followed. Eighteen could have stood up and run over there, she could have shouted the words out, villain, criminal, bastard, but she sat still. A bit of wind lifted up her hair, it might have been cold, but damn it was nice.
Once he was alone, he untied his horse from the bar where it was tethered next to the building, and led it along with him. Eighteen stood from the fountain and confronted the larger, darker skinned fighter, a look of complete contempt in her gaze.
There were several things that she wanted to say. Her anger was steaming below the surface, but as usual, Eighteen had mastered the art of being more robot than woman.
I'm going to kill you in your sleep.
“You didn't kill me, why, it would have been better than dragging me along with you? Did that upset your friend?” she said coolly.
“I thought for sure you would be out until morning," he said more to himself. "As for killing you, well, that would just delay the inevitable. Why would I kill you? You lost, and thus, you must work for me. If I killed you I'd be out a pair of hands.”
I'm going to kill you when you least expect it.
Her lips formed a thin line. It was true. She had agreed with him. If she lost, she would do as he told her, but if she won...well, she hadn't. No, there was no doubt in her mind, he wouldn't have done the same for her. She was good, though, wasn't she? Android Eighteen had never been evil...but she'd never been a saint. It was hard to say now, as she stared up into his hard features, whether she could keep her word.
“You're right, I lost,” she admitted at length. “But when the time comes, and I have to make a choice, I'm going to choose to kill you Ganondorf.”
She held out her hand begrudgingly in a sign of truce. “If you kiss me again, the deal is off. I'm more than spoken for, and your kisses taste like dirt.”
The Town With No Name
There were bullet holes in the posts that held the arch up. They were old, burnt things, the spent bullets long since retrieved. It was anyone’s guess whether the unsuspecting guests had perished or limped away in fear, only to perish off in the sun.
A harmonica could be heard in the distance, the sweet melody trickling down with the current of the wind. It was forlorn, in a way, much like this town. There were only a few men hanging out in the streets and on the porches of the various establishments. Each one of them had a dusty hat on their head, boots up past their ankles, and a gruff exterior that spoke volumes. More than one cowboy had a hand on their pistol, holstered on their hip, as they watched with suspicious eyes.
One had to wonder if these characters were merely a program, an imbedded security, to keep the town on edge. They might stay up all day and night watching for travelers to fire bullets at. The Omniverse was a strange, fickle place, where rules weren’t the same as they once were.
A window shutter banged with a gust of wind. The distinct sounds of an old piano twanged, mixing with the distant harmonica. Rowdy voices fell from behind the swinging doors of the saloon. It smelt of liquor and piss, sweat and perfume. There were a few cowboys, young and reckless, that came stumbling out of the watering hole with arms over shoulders. An old joke lingered on their laughing lips and they struggled against each other onto the dusty road.
One said something to the other. A clumsy fist lifted, and soon enough, they were rolling about on the ground slinging slurred insults. Two older men came by and pulled them apart. The scene took several minutes to dissolve. By then, one youth had a broken, bloody nose, and the other was merely disheveled from the fall.
It was beginning to approach nightfall. The heat would die off like a lit candle, sputtering, and replaced by creeping coldness. It was already beginning to cool off as the sunlight dipped closer toward the horizon and cast a mighty glow all down the roads and alleys. There were long shadows splashing the ground, and the sides of the buildings, like specters.
The cold of night was met with the heat of trade. It was when the sun fell that the women came out, their long dresses hitched up, their faces a mask of makeup and faux admiration. Cheap perfume cloyed the air and masked all bitterness of the body. They all had something in common, in that they were not the fairest of women. Some were old, some were large, others were sick with some disease. They were clinging to the doorways of the saloon, the inn, and playing innocent with cowboys on the watch.
All these things built toward a bigger picture. The town was barely hanging together. All evidence pointed toward barbaric attacks from the bandits living in the desert. There was a serious lack of effort put into maintaining the town as a place to live, rather, as a place to survive.
It was with cool confidence, but with a cautious gaze, that Ganondorf entered the Town With No Name. The arch shuddered in the wind above his head, and crows glared down, waiting for their next meal.
Through windows, frightened faces drew back, and cloth drapes were pulled a fraction to the side. Upon closer inspection, there were children, but they were willowy things clutching at the skirts of their mothers. People stayed within their wooden homes, but curiosity led them to peek from behind doorways. The only ones that didn’t stay hidden were the men who kept watch.
One man pushed aside a whore, and pulled out his gun. A wad of tobacco splattered on the ground with a squelch. Two more cowboys came forward, jumping off wooden decks and coming from between buildings. A horse whickered nervously and pulled its head back, causing the wooden bar to groan against the strain of the leather knot.
“What’a we got here?” said the youngest of the lot. His blond hair was windswept from lack of a hat. He held an amused grin of sorts.
“Don’t look like bandits, them,” said another, although he was much older. His teeth were brown, rotted, mostly missing. He spat a gob of saliva and wiped at his mouth with a dusty sleeve. His hand held his pistol, finger on the trigger. “Never know, though.”
Ganondorf continued into the town, slowly approaching the gathering of men with their guns and their glares. The heat of the setting sun was on his backside, keeping him warm, but it would soon fade with the light.
Meanwhile, as the horse cantered forward through dust and grit, the android’s limp body gave little to no response. It had been a well placed chop of Ganondorf’s hand that sent her into oblivion. She was a world away from home, and a world away from Omniverse. It would be a matter of time before she roused, and then, it would be up to Ganondorf as to how well he played his cards against the girl.
Then again, if the cowboys gave them more than they could chew, they would both be in a world of trouble. The Desert King was still recovering from his fight with the android. With her out of commission, there was no doubt how the battle would end.
--
Namek-Sei was beautiful. It was always beautiful, with it's azure skies and emerald oceans. The planet was primarily comprised of oceans and lakes, and even it's islands and continents were a seafoam green to match it's waters. The plant life was simple. A variety of shrubbery and stout vegetation grew in patches and thickets. Any villages that did thrive were comprised of domed buildings with nought but a hole for entry.
It never had a night. There were three suns keeping it from ever facing the cold and the dark. It's inhabitants, the Namekian, lived in peace within it's strange climates, bothering no one.
Here was where she had come from. Her blue eyes sweeping across the landscape, shrubs surrounding her as she stood on the cliff. Waves crashed against the stoney wall below. No memories had been there to recall on. It had been fragmented and damaged, like a computer, but she pieced it all together. Dr. Gero was the one who had done this to her, and she would have revenge.
“Eighteen, duck!” said Raditzu, as a blast of searingly hot energy sliced through the air. Her figure fell swiftly, it passed by, but not without causing her skin to singe under the heat.
The battlefield was wrought by explosions and scorch marks. There were tendrils of smoke reaching into the sky, dead fallen trees, and a complete sense of foreboding. Several feet away stood the two figures that had haunted her for years, and in an instant her heart began to beat like a rapid drum.
“Final Flash!” said Vegeta, as his hands combined and the swirling chaotic energy surged forward. It erupted at their feet causing earth and smoke to consume the air. Android Eighteen could only lift her arms up in defence as the energy pushed at her person and made her fight to stand.
“You take care of the woman,” the Saiya-Jin cracked his knuckles, “I want to do away with Raditzu once and for all.”
Koola jumped forward without needing to be told twice. His long, lethe body, white and lavender, moved through the air like the wind. He was fast, too fast for the android, as he wrapped himself around her little body from behind. The tip of his tail threatened her face. It hadn't taken more than a moment of respite between the smoke and the dirt before she was ensnared by her enemy.
“No!” she cried out and fought his hold.
“Thanks for all the hard work getting the Dragon Balls for us,” he hissed into her ear.
She'd never felt so weak, and so powerless, as she had then. His hold was like a vice, choking her, stifling the air from her, a darkness swam in her eyes. Raditzu moved forward to meet Vegeta's attacks, his hair trailing behind him, black as raven's wings. They battled until both bloody, but she could do little more than fall limp in the changelings arms.
Her body shot forward in the darkness, and her eyes searched, until light slowly began to fill the room. Eighteen felt a warmth in the blankets that surrounded her. Her eyes roamed to the left, and there beside her was the Saiya-Jin that had so casually walked into her life.
“A dream,” she said to herself. They were in the Room of Spirit and Time. It was dim here, in the living quarters. She could see past the threshold to where the white went on forever. Where they slept, it was homey, just right. The floors were stone, the bed large, and comfortable. There was a table for eating, a place for showering, and nothing else. Most of their day's were filled with training. It was because of him that she had become to strong. A year had gone by so easily inside that room.
“Eighteen,” his voice filled the silence.
She looked to her left again, and there he was, his big dark eyes, almost black, staring right into hers. All that hair tumbled down over his arm, down his back, it was always so amusing to her. Now, however, she looked at him with a mixture of curiosity, feeling so out of place, and time. His face was serious, but flushed, as he maintained her gaze.
“I love you.”
How do I know how I feel, how do you know how you feel? I'm a machine, or part, but still. I think I love you. I know I have feelings for you. I'm just afraid...
The girl could barely understand what being human was. Her life was a mystery. She had been living day to day, memory to memory, filling up every void so that she could forget what she was. It was hard pretending that she was normal. Even when she had had amnesia, and Raditzu had done everything he could to bring her back to him, it didn't erase the truth that she was not human.
“Do whatever you want, you always do,” she said, and turned to look at him with lips turned downward. They stood in a ruins of an old school. It's windows were shattered, it's seats crumbling and broken. There were old papers yellowed and dirty on the floor. A stray breeze filtered in from outside. It was troubling out there. A sheet of dark, grey clouds were heavy with the threat of a storm.
“I do?” he said quizzically.
The android turned away with a shake of her head. She was done. Done with him, with this, with everything. She found herself walking away from him in silent anger. It was always some tournament, some evil villain, or some...excuse. He took anything to get away. It wasn't many years later that she came to realize that Raditzu had never been trying to get away, rather, he had always been the adventuring type. It was what made him who he was. Maybe that's why she wanted so bad to be just like him.
He met her at the top of the tower, a confused look on his face. Raditzu was older than she was, but that didn't mean he looked it. He was handsome, his chin well defined, his eyes dark and full of mystery. Despite his lack of understanding in the ways of a woman, he tried, and she couldn't walk away.
“I'm sorry. I don't know what I did wrong. I mean, I do, but I think there were a few things that I did wrong. I'm sorry for whatever they were. I'm just not used to this, bade, and I-
The android dropped the towel she'd been wrapped up in. She moved in close, wrapped her arms around him, and stayed that way for a time. “Just tell me that you love me.”
It had been a while. It was such a stupid, simple thing, but she needed it. What she needed more, however, was him. Only a few words needed saying and the girl let the world fall to pieces without them. There would be no running away this time, as she and the Saiya-Jin finally shared more than just a bed together.
--
“Don't look like a cowboy neither.”
Ganondorf had no choice but to halt the process of his entry into the town. Several men stood barring his way from getting any further. His gaze casually look in each one of them, from boots to hats – or hair, for those without a hat – noting guns on each person. They were more pawns than anything. It would have been easy to sweep through them, and continue onwards. However, Ganondorf was not a foolish man. There was no telling how many so-called heroes lived in this town. There was also the off-chance that there would be a prime or two as well.
“I assure you, gentlemen, that I am not a cowboy,” he said at length as he sized them up, and they sized him up. “Neither am I a bandit, as you can see, I come alone.”
“No,” said the youth with the smile. He rested a hand on his hip and indictaed with a nod of his head toward the blonde over Ganondorf's lap. “Not alone.”
“She's not exactly in fighting shape,” said the Gerudo, lifting one of the android's hands and letting it fall limp against the side of the horse.
“I says he's lyin', Willis. I says we string 'em up and let the crows have at 'em.”
The blonde youth turned to the older man who'd spoken out and maintained his cocky smile. “And if he were telling the truth? Don't think the sheriff would want us killing no innocents and what not.”
“Perhaps your sheriff and I could share words? I've come looking to help, after all, and the proof is all here.” His hand patted against Eighteen's back, this time, he chose not to give the wrong impression. “I found this young woman in the desert, delirious, and did all I could to help her. The heat was too much, as you can see, and so I've brought her to this...” his gaze flicked toward the buildings and the people “quaint town.”
“I believe 'em,” said another youthful cowboy further back. “He sounds legit.”
The line of men began to mutter to each other, some were suspicious, others were curious, but they could all agree on one thing. There was no harm in letting one guy through, especially if he was going straight to the sheriff. If he didn't check out, they'd lock him up, that was most certain.
Ganondorf let the blonde boy, Willis, take the reins of his horse. It was a small price, playing the kindly traveller, to get what he wanted. The hooves of his horse clopped and clipped on the hard-packed ground. Whores – brave whores – stood on the patio's lifting their skirts and giving a wink. There were a few choice girls in the lot, but even they were scraps at the bottom of a desperate barrel.
Lights hung haphazardly between the buildings. Bulbs flickered and blinked from the source of electricity. The dim light lit up the main street, filled windows with light, and provided a gentle atmosphere to the otherwise hostile town. Without the light it would have been a cold, dismal place. It seemed to come alive with women showing their goods, men cat-calling, and music playing even more lively from the saloon. A dull hum filled the air as well, it had been unnoticeable until now. “You have electricity here?” the King of Sand asked.
“We sure do,” said the young lad. A few of the other men followed behind a few yards. “Got it from t'other verse, one with them robots and what have you.”
“I see.”
Plans and ideals formulated in his mind as they continued forth. It appeared that, despite being separate, some technology had slipped between realms nonetheless. It would be important to keep this in mind when creating a new kingdom in these wretched lands. Electricity was a powerful tool. If they had that, they could have had any number of other things at their disposal.
“We ought to let the girls take her,” the boy said as Ganondorf dismounted, taking Eighteen with him. The sheriff’s building was just like the others. The source of the humming was from a large, rumbling generator, as it sat emitting smoke and charging the lights with power. A golden glow pooled out from the doorway further allowing visitors to see up the short steps.
Chances were that the girl wouldn't wake til morning. In order to gain trust, trust had to be given, so the desert dweller did what he had to. He let two of the larger cowboys take Eighteen from him, and carry her off toward the saloon. “Now, where is this sheriff of yours? I heard rumours that you're a little worse for wear out here.”
The two went up the steps together, and disappeared into where Ganondorf hoped to secure his place in this game of his.
--
Android Eighteen sat up, her hair a mess all about her face. It was as tangled as straw in a barn. She lifted her hands to her head and pushed the strands back as best she could. It was dark in the room, and quiet, too quiet. Her head was hurting and her stomach felt as if it were housing an eel or two. Her feet slipped out over the edge of the bed, and she stood on jelly legs.
Her hands grasped the curtains and she pulled them apart.
“Argh,” she exclaimed, and took a step back from the sunlight. It was a bright, sunny day, in Central City.
“You're up!”
Eighteen looked over her shoulder at him, her face haggard. “So are you,” she replied coarsely.
“I made waffles,” Raditzu brandished his spatula.
“Again?”
“Yeah, well, you know,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. Raditzu didn't look like the warrior he had once been. He never wore his armour, he was more than happy to learn new ways to cook Mexican food and breakfast. The only thing that hadn't changed was his long hair and his witty humour.
“I can't do this anymore...”
“Why don't you come downstairs and have some waffles.”
“Did you even hear me?” she frowned and faced him fully.
“I even got strawberries for you, so don't say I never did anything for you.” The Saiya-Jin left the room with a wave of the spatula.
“Rad...?” she scratched the side of her head and stared at the doorway. Something wasn't right about this. Her head hurt something fierce, but she couldn't remember why, and that in itself was unusual. Despite their tame life in the city, Eighteen always kept one eye open, and this was one of the reasons why. “Raditzu, wait,” she called as she ran toward the door.
She ran right into him. “What...what are you doing here?” she said, startled, and looked up at Ganondorf.
“Why do you think?” he chuckled in that way of his, and grabbed the android. The desert sun set around them, the winds swept sand across their bodies. She pushed at him.
“No, it was just a dream,” she went to protest, but he didn't hear her, or didn't care, because he had her enraptured in another one of his rough, vile kisses.
Eighteen struggled, the eels in her stomach became butterflies, and more than the heat of the sun flushed her cheeks. She became like a puddle in those big, muscled arms, the smell of sweat and spice filling her senses. There was a roughness to him that she'd never felt before. It was in the way his fingers dug into her sides, and in the way his kiss all but devoured her.
She pushed back enough to rip away from his moist lips. “Stop,” she demanded with eyes made of ice.
“I'll have you saying more,” he murmured heatedly.
“No, you won't.” The blush on her cheeks said otherwise. It was a horrible side effect of being human. The blood in her veins coursed to a different tune. She slapped the so-called King with the flat of her hand and pulled away.
Ganondorf pulled her back. They were back in the Room of Spirit and Time, but this was a lie. She'd confused her memories. It wasn't Raditzu's hands like a vice on her arms. The villainous desert dweller made her scream more than curses in a nightmare that shook her to the bone.
When she woke, it was to a room with a dim, flickering lamp, and the sound of piano music playing a racket downstairs. The thick smell of body odor masked by spices and perfume filled her nostrils.
“Fuck,” she said, and pressed the heel of her palm to her brow. Sweat lined her features, and she shivered, until it became too much and she was rolling off the bed and vomiting onto the floor.
“That bad?” said a voice in the doorway.
“What?” Eighteen asked, looking up as she wiped at her mouth.
“The pain.” The woman was middle aged, wearing only a touch of make-up. Her most beautiful feature was her eyes, being a pale blue not more than a few shades lighter than Eighteen's own. “You were tossing and turning worse than a badger.”
“I...was having a dream,” a heat flushed her cheeks and she got up onto the edge of the bed.
“Ah, one of those,” the woman went to the wash basin across the room, grabbed a towel, and went to clean the mess on the floor.
“Sorry about that,” the android mumbled and rested her elbows on her knees. The heels of her palms buried against her eyes. Her head was pounding hard. The last she remembered she had been cleverly outdone by Ganondorf, and then it was lights out. “Where am I?”
“This is the Town With No Name,” said the whore. “Rumor is you were out in the desert and that man brought you in.”
“Is that so?” Eighteen said, lifting her head from her hands. What sort of game are you playing? she asked herself, and threaded a hand through her hair.
“Have you come from one of them other places?” asked the woman curiously.
“You could say that. I'm not exactly sure where I'm from or where I'm going.” Her mind wandered back to the fight, and she knew that it would be a long time before she would be able to let that loss go. He had made a fool out of her, and now she was here in some town. Could she have been wrong all along? After all, Ganondorf could have killed her. Not that it would have stopped her, but, it would have slowed her down substantially.
“Where is he now, the man who brought me here?” Eighteen asked.
“Talking with the sheriff, word was, not sure how that's going. The boys wanna do him in, but I said let him have his words if that's all he's wanting.”
The android stared at the ground for a time before she stood from the bed. Her body was aching, and she wasn't sure exactly how long it would take to recover. The longer she let the desert man go off and do whatever it was he was doing, the less of a chance she had to stop him.
It was like kissing the sun, she thought to herself, and immediately shook her head of it. “I'm going to go downstairs, if that's alright. I'm...thirsty,” she lied, and didn't wait for an answer. The whole idea of the Omniverse still didn't sit well with her.
Downstairs it was a lively show. There was more than a dozen men playing at dice, having drinks, throwing darts at a board, or sharing a bawdy song. The girl surveyed the scene carefully as she walked down the stairs, and then found herself a spot at the bar where a dark haired man poured drinks for the patrons.
“You're awake,” he said, looking over at Eighteen.
“I am,” she replied.
“We were making bets on whether or not you would die.”
“Well, I guess there will be a few losers in the crowd tonight.”
The bartender laughed, poured her a strong drink, and went to the other side of the bar. Eighteen lifted the glass to her lips, sampled the bittersweet liquor, and then turned on her stool to watch the other visitors in the bar. It might have been a bad idea to have herself a drink, but damn, this headache was fierce.
“Rough night?” a man said beside her.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Eighteen drank back the strong stuff, and set the glass down. “And it's about to get rougher.”
She stood from the bar, ignored the few looks tossed her way, and exited the saloon with a push of the swinging doors. A few girls sat on the patio talking to each other. Further down, against the rail, a man lingered with one of the girls and shared a chuckle and a kiss.
It was straight out of a western story. The buildings were all wooden and, for the most part, dishevelled. She walked down the steps, looked from building to building, and watched the scared faces in the windows. She could only guess that the place was on rough times. There was signs of damage to a few of the homes. More than a few of the horses were thin, in need of better care and food. She spotted ramshackle solar panels on a few roofs, and noticed the constant flicker of the lights as they hung between the buildings.
Her walking took her further toward the center of the small town. A dusty, dried out fountain stood as the central feature. She walked over to it and frowned a little. The town was hanging on by a thread. She couldn't help but wonder why Ganondorf had come here, of all places. She had thought he was going to storm it, take it over...it wouldn't be hard, from what she could tell.
“Wait,” she said aloud and turned as if expecting an attack. There was nothing but the cold and the stars above. Where did the other one go? she wondered. No one had mentioned there being two men, just the one. It didn't sit well with her...
Eighteen sat on the edge of the fountain for a long time. She was in a position where she could claim that Ganondorf meant ill will toward the town. Who would believe her? It was obvious that this place was male dominant. If the desert man meant to help them, it would cast a different light on everything...and she would look the fool. He was up to no good. She could smell the shit a mile away. Then there was the strange cohort that had been in league with the Gerudo. Had they spilt over differences? After all, from what she could see, Ganondorf had kept her alive...and taken her. Perhaps that had changed the plan...or, again, she had been wrong.
Was I so determined to be a hero that I'd heard them wrong? I'm not even half the person I was before. Even if they were up to no good, what the hell could I do? And then, and then... she let her thoughts trail off on the sunset and the sand. It hadn't been real, but Eighteen had always been striving for humanity, and there was nothing more human than that of a kiss. All it did was make her miss Raditzu, feel guilt over the way things had been between them as of late, and cause a hopelessness to well up in her chest.
She looked up to see a figure exit a large building. Light flooded out of the doorway, and then a second figure followed. Eighteen could have stood up and run over there, she could have shouted the words out, villain, criminal, bastard, but she sat still. A bit of wind lifted up her hair, it might have been cold, but damn it was nice.
Once he was alone, he untied his horse from the bar where it was tethered next to the building, and led it along with him. Eighteen stood from the fountain and confronted the larger, darker skinned fighter, a look of complete contempt in her gaze.
There were several things that she wanted to say. Her anger was steaming below the surface, but as usual, Eighteen had mastered the art of being more robot than woman.
I'm going to kill you in your sleep.
“You didn't kill me, why, it would have been better than dragging me along with you? Did that upset your friend?” she said coolly.
“I thought for sure you would be out until morning," he said more to himself. "As for killing you, well, that would just delay the inevitable. Why would I kill you? You lost, and thus, you must work for me. If I killed you I'd be out a pair of hands.”
I'm going to kill you when you least expect it.
Her lips formed a thin line. It was true. She had agreed with him. If she lost, she would do as he told her, but if she won...well, she hadn't. No, there was no doubt in her mind, he wouldn't have done the same for her. She was good, though, wasn't she? Android Eighteen had never been evil...but she'd never been a saint. It was hard to say now, as she stared up into his hard features, whether she could keep her word.
“You're right, I lost,” she admitted at length. “But when the time comes, and I have to make a choice, I'm going to choose to kill you Ganondorf.”
She held out her hand begrudgingly in a sign of truce. “If you kiss me again, the deal is off. I'm more than spoken for, and your kisses taste like dirt.”
![[Image: Eighteen2015.jpg]](http://rpnexus.com/sig/A18/Eighteen2015.jpg)