The Used
By:
POAS
Vegeta is taken from one owner to another as an exotic pet at the fragile age of two. That is until the Briefs take him in for good. Now Bulma is the owner of her favorite kind of creature, a Saiyan.
Prologue
Fear ran through his body as these things walked in and out of this makeshift store. He would be sold eventually, no one ever kept him for long. He grabbed at the bars again, only to be shocked back into the rear of his small space cage. He held his small hand gently; the pain was there and gone.
He was a small boy, only three feet in height. His bangs hung over his eyes and gave him a gentle, child like look. Though his hair was always upswept like a wild flame, his regal main had begun to wilt because of malnutrition. His skin was a light bronze when he was healthy and his eyes were coal depths of emotion. Fear, hunger, anger.
A cane whacked the bars on his cage, rattling him and making him cower.
"Time to come out," came the sinister voice of his "master".
The old fart had taken him when he was four and a half and beaten him since he had gotten to his new home. His first masters were so nice, but they grew tired of him and got a new pet. His master now was mean and had wrinkles everywhere. His old gray beard was full of crumbs from careless messy eating in front of the poor staving boy. His clothes were always neat and clean, while his own were the ones he was bought in. They no longer fit, he had out grown them some time ago, but his master paid him no heed and only fed him to keep him alive.
The cage opened and he slowly crawled out, looking at his masters new loafers. Slowly, the hungry boy climbed to his feet and looked at the people before him. A blonde tall woman, with closed eyes, a grin, and nice clothes. A purple haired man with a lab coat on, old loafers and a bushy mustache. A blue haired kid about his age and a little shorter with blue jean shorts on and a yellow "Princess" shirt on. Would they buy him? Would they take him away?
"He's awfully skinny, and his clothes are ratty," the blonde gasped.
"Poor boy has been here long," the purple haired man muttered as he lit a cigarette.
The blue haired one's eyes lit up, they were real! The object of her dreams: Saiyans!! ChiChi had been showing off her Saiyan and said they were all gone, but now she could have one.
"That one, Poppa," she pointed to the sickly lad.
His eyes lit up with joy, he was saved. His owner gave an angry cough; he didn't want to get rid of this rare oddity too easily.
"This one, he's not for sale, he's for show," his green eyes lit with evil.
Her heart fell. "But I want him! Poppa, tell this man to gimme that one!!" she ordered with a rigid finger.
"Calm down princess, you will get that one," her father said with a grin.
The boy grinned again; finally, someone will take him away from this place. His master scowled again at the family of three; he was too rare to sell to some commoners. He wanted at least one million Zeni, and these hillbillies surely didn't even have half.
"Three million," his master said with a smirk. They could never afford him now.
"I'll give you five," the purple haired man said proudly.
The master had nothing more to say. He ran over to the register and rang up the order for the boy and all they would need to keep him happy. What a bunch suckers, he got five times what he wanted!
The boy walked over to his new family with a smile on his face, his bangs bounced with every step. He wanted to hug them, he wanted them to hug him, but he didn't want them to hurt him for giving them a hug. His half year with his master had broken him into the perfect pet, he gave no arguments, did what he was told. He was a slave.
The purple haired man stood at the counter with a satisfied grin on his face, this would keep his daughter from asking him for more things for a long time. This was the Saiyan they had been searching for, the one that his daughter's little friend had sold only six months into having him as a pet. He handed the greedy man his five million Zeni and turned back to his family. His daughter was holding the boy's hand, and the boy seemed pleased.
"We'll have to buy you new clothes too... What's your name lad?" the purple haired man asked the little boy.
"Vegeta," came the gruff reply.
'Vegeta,' the blue haired child thought. "My name's Bulma! Bulma Briefs!" she said happily as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"We'll get acquainted later, little one, right now this boy needs clothes and food," said the purple haired one.
Vegeta's stomach gave a lurching growl. He gave a sheepish grin as he gave his stomach a gentle pat; he was starving. The blonde one gave a grin, "Just like Goku," she thought.
They left the store in a bit of a hurry when the blonde one announced it was almost dinnertime. Could she cook the best meals, oh yes.
The old master looked blankly at the curtains as they closed, Briefs?! He could've gotten more. . . more for that little shit! Damn it! Damn it all to hell!!
Vegeta looked out of the car window like a dog, in fact, his tail was wagging happily as he watched people and buildings go flying by. He placed his chubby little hand on the armrest and hoisted himself out of the restraint device called a "seat belt". He was jumping around a bit as he stared at the new sights. He was glad to be experiencing something like this; it was his first conscious car ride. He turned to Bulma with a big grin, but she rolled her eyes. He frowned softly before climbing back into the seat belt thing and staring at his hands. He figured he had done something wrong. He twiddled his thumbs quietly, no longer trying to see the sights or make any noises, and the small girl next to him took note of that.
"Vegeta," she started softly.
His ear twitched a bit at his name so softly spoken, he looked up at her, half expecting a blow to the head. However, none came, when he dare look into her blue eyes, to his amazement they looked back into his own black eyes. He betrayed a small smile and his tail began to thump happily against the leather seat between them. Thump-a thump thump-a, thump-a thump thump-a. Bulma's eyes lit up with wonder, a glint of "what does this button do" lit her eyes as she eyed the tail.
"Don't grab it," he warned her softly.
"Why not?" she huffed.
"It's not a nice tail," he winked.
She gave a small "hmm" as she continued to study the wiggling tail. The hair on the tail looked like coffee with just the right amount of creamer, it also looked very soft and well tended to. His tail was in tip- top condition despite the manner in which he had once lived. Gently and slowly, as if approaching a scared kitten she reached for the tail and to her surprise it sat up, the end almost looking at her. Before she got a good pat in, Vegeta grabbed his tail with his hand and yanked it away from her face. She took a mental note that the tail seemed to have a mind of its own and was poised to strike, as if it were a snake.
"It's been that way since I was taken," he said softly as he stroked his agitated tail.
"Taken from ChiChi's?" she asked innocently.
"No," he winced, "from my planet."
Hmm this is a little dealy I'm working on. Tell me how ya like it, or hate it. I don't care. It's quite old.
POAS
By:
POAS
Vegeta is taken from one owner to another as an exotic pet at the fragile age of two. That is until the Briefs take him in for good. Now Bulma is the owner of her favorite kind of creature, a Saiyan.
Prologue
Fear ran through his body as these things walked in and out of this makeshift store. He would be sold eventually, no one ever kept him for long. He grabbed at the bars again, only to be shocked back into the rear of his small space cage. He held his small hand gently; the pain was there and gone.
He was a small boy, only three feet in height. His bangs hung over his eyes and gave him a gentle, child like look. Though his hair was always upswept like a wild flame, his regal main had begun to wilt because of malnutrition. His skin was a light bronze when he was healthy and his eyes were coal depths of emotion. Fear, hunger, anger.
A cane whacked the bars on his cage, rattling him and making him cower.
"Time to come out," came the sinister voice of his "master".
The old fart had taken him when he was four and a half and beaten him since he had gotten to his new home. His first masters were so nice, but they grew tired of him and got a new pet. His master now was mean and had wrinkles everywhere. His old gray beard was full of crumbs from careless messy eating in front of the poor staving boy. His clothes were always neat and clean, while his own were the ones he was bought in. They no longer fit, he had out grown them some time ago, but his master paid him no heed and only fed him to keep him alive.
The cage opened and he slowly crawled out, looking at his masters new loafers. Slowly, the hungry boy climbed to his feet and looked at the people before him. A blonde tall woman, with closed eyes, a grin, and nice clothes. A purple haired man with a lab coat on, old loafers and a bushy mustache. A blue haired kid about his age and a little shorter with blue jean shorts on and a yellow "Princess" shirt on. Would they buy him? Would they take him away?
"He's awfully skinny, and his clothes are ratty," the blonde gasped.
"Poor boy has been here long," the purple haired man muttered as he lit a cigarette.
The blue haired one's eyes lit up, they were real! The object of her dreams: Saiyans!! ChiChi had been showing off her Saiyan and said they were all gone, but now she could have one.
"That one, Poppa," she pointed to the sickly lad.
His eyes lit up with joy, he was saved. His owner gave an angry cough; he didn't want to get rid of this rare oddity too easily.
"This one, he's not for sale, he's for show," his green eyes lit with evil.
Her heart fell. "But I want him! Poppa, tell this man to gimme that one!!" she ordered with a rigid finger.
"Calm down princess, you will get that one," her father said with a grin.
The boy grinned again; finally, someone will take him away from this place. His master scowled again at the family of three; he was too rare to sell to some commoners. He wanted at least one million Zeni, and these hillbillies surely didn't even have half.
"Three million," his master said with a smirk. They could never afford him now.
"I'll give you five," the purple haired man said proudly.
The master had nothing more to say. He ran over to the register and rang up the order for the boy and all they would need to keep him happy. What a bunch suckers, he got five times what he wanted!
The boy walked over to his new family with a smile on his face, his bangs bounced with every step. He wanted to hug them, he wanted them to hug him, but he didn't want them to hurt him for giving them a hug. His half year with his master had broken him into the perfect pet, he gave no arguments, did what he was told. He was a slave.
The purple haired man stood at the counter with a satisfied grin on his face, this would keep his daughter from asking him for more things for a long time. This was the Saiyan they had been searching for, the one that his daughter's little friend had sold only six months into having him as a pet. He handed the greedy man his five million Zeni and turned back to his family. His daughter was holding the boy's hand, and the boy seemed pleased.
"We'll have to buy you new clothes too... What's your name lad?" the purple haired man asked the little boy.
"Vegeta," came the gruff reply.
'Vegeta,' the blue haired child thought. "My name's Bulma! Bulma Briefs!" she said happily as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"We'll get acquainted later, little one, right now this boy needs clothes and food," said the purple haired one.
Vegeta's stomach gave a lurching growl. He gave a sheepish grin as he gave his stomach a gentle pat; he was starving. The blonde one gave a grin, "Just like Goku," she thought.
They left the store in a bit of a hurry when the blonde one announced it was almost dinnertime. Could she cook the best meals, oh yes.
The old master looked blankly at the curtains as they closed, Briefs?! He could've gotten more. . . more for that little shit! Damn it! Damn it all to hell!!
Vegeta looked out of the car window like a dog, in fact, his tail was wagging happily as he watched people and buildings go flying by. He placed his chubby little hand on the armrest and hoisted himself out of the restraint device called a "seat belt". He was jumping around a bit as he stared at the new sights. He was glad to be experiencing something like this; it was his first conscious car ride. He turned to Bulma with a big grin, but she rolled her eyes. He frowned softly before climbing back into the seat belt thing and staring at his hands. He figured he had done something wrong. He twiddled his thumbs quietly, no longer trying to see the sights or make any noises, and the small girl next to him took note of that.
"Vegeta," she started softly.
His ear twitched a bit at his name so softly spoken, he looked up at her, half expecting a blow to the head. However, none came, when he dare look into her blue eyes, to his amazement they looked back into his own black eyes. He betrayed a small smile and his tail began to thump happily against the leather seat between them. Thump-a thump thump-a, thump-a thump thump-a. Bulma's eyes lit up with wonder, a glint of "what does this button do" lit her eyes as she eyed the tail.
"Don't grab it," he warned her softly.
"Why not?" she huffed.
"It's not a nice tail," he winked.
She gave a small "hmm" as she continued to study the wiggling tail. The hair on the tail looked like coffee with just the right amount of creamer, it also looked very soft and well tended to. His tail was in tip- top condition despite the manner in which he had once lived. Gently and slowly, as if approaching a scared kitten she reached for the tail and to her surprise it sat up, the end almost looking at her. Before she got a good pat in, Vegeta grabbed his tail with his hand and yanked it away from her face. She took a mental note that the tail seemed to have a mind of its own and was poised to strike, as if it were a snake.
"It's been that way since I was taken," he said softly as he stroked his agitated tail.
"Taken from ChiChi's?" she asked innocently.
"No," he winced, "from my planet."
Hmm this is a little dealy I'm working on. Tell me how ya like it, or hate it. I don't care. It's quite old.
POAS