The Ship - The Bar

[Queen of Cunts]

(OOC: This thread can be used by anybody. It will give us a new area to congregate in.)

[Queen of Cunts]

“<...And the most important thing you need to know about being a Saiyan is to never rest your elbow on the Prince’s head, because that will get your banished!>” Zasha explained, as she and her new travelling companion moved through the passages of the ship. She was ensuring to keep her volume high so as to educate those they passed on their travels, ignoring the fact that none of them could speak her language. "<The second most important thing is that Saiyans are warriors! You must always be ready to fight! And there is never a shortage of opponents. Once, Appezia and I encountered a kind of fruit on a planet we landed on, only it turned out to not be a fruit at all. It was, in fact, a kind of hard-shelled rodent, but as I said to Appezia at the time: ‘this looks edible’, and so I bit its head off and sucked out the insides. And you know what? I can’t remember the next three days. And that is the Saiyan way!>”

They passed many others on their way to the bar. Zasha greeted them absently, eager to reach this place of drinking. Tarble was a fine Saiyan to have provided facilities for such undertakings. Later, she would challenge him to honourable combat in way of thanks.

“<Princess,>” she greeted, and then, “Bull-moose, <Food with Parasites>, Frieza.”

The anomalous last creature she passed went largely unnoticed as her train of thought rocketed past on its way to somewhere completely different. Before long, they had reached their destination.

A sign on the door said: “We don’t serve pork, so don’t ask.” But Zasha couldn’t speak English, so she ignored it.

She shoved into the interior and found herself in what was attempting to be a replica human tavern, but on a spaceship. The oddly new age furniture and white walls clashed horribly with the antique juke box warbling out something discordant and the pool table that had been set up. Zasha confused it for a tiny arena where small creatures were made to fight for the amusement of the patrons.

Women’s underwear had been strung up like bunting above the bar, though admittedly it didn’t look like any of the undergarments Zasha would have worn, had she worn any.

What appeared to be a stout, bald human with large, flat ears and a fat, upturned nose popped up from behind the counter. It was, in fact, a pig wearing human clothes, but Zasha wasn’t to know what a pig was. She saw the Hawaiian shirt and didn’t really see a difference between it and the rest of its kind.

“What can I get you...?” Oolong asked, cocking his head to one side as he fought for a classification for the two standing before him, “ladies?”

[123lealea]

“Oh man, what I wouldn’t give for a nice cold beverage.” Marcia spoke to herself, opening the tavern doors that the loud, robust Saiyan woman had entered, finding a pig in a Hawaiian shirt currently serving the two she had seen from outside. She quickly gave each woman a quick look over from behind, before admitting the muscles were impressive to look at, and moved up to the counter, awaiting their order so she could have her own.

She rested her metal arm overtop of the counter, looking over at the pig who had asked their order, and looking off to the side at them, viewing their faces discreetly, her metal fingers lightly rapping on the countertop as she patiently waited, her lips in a small, but pleasant smile. She couldn’t help but find the aliens she had met so far to be an interesting lot, and drinking with them might either be very fun, or very violent. Especially with this lot.

[Turtle]

Tomta followed Zasha quietly, trying to keep up with the much larger woman's longer strides, and taking in the seemingly endless accounts of questionable behaviour. 'How are you not dead' had popped into her head at several points between Bulma's lab and the bar, but she tended to err on the side of caution when speaking to people much larger than she was and this seemed something best kept to herself.


And besides, she found herself taking an interest in the stories. She was really only vaguely acquainted with her own culture and there was something rather satisfying about it until everything naturally came down to fighting and something in her gut knotted. Because of course that was what it was all about, wasn't it, she found herself thinking rather bitterly, trying to keep the feeling from her expression. (And on that happy note, there was Vegeta. She did her best to avoid eye contact but he still seemed preoccupied with nothing anyway and took no notice of her. The others she greeted with a brief bob of her head as Zasha pulled her past, noting the Ice Djin's presence.) It was only a matter of time before Zasha made good on her promise to test the other girl's strength, and provided she wasn't incinerated, would probably be a laughing stock once they realized what a miserable failure of a Saiyan she was.

At least they were supposedly on their way to alcohol.

Zasha dragged her to a previously unexplored part of the ship, and what was definitely another Earthling but likely not a Human greeted them, and asked what they wanted to drink. Tomta was unfamiliar with Earthling beverages and studied the bottles arranged behind him intently, glancing away only as another woman entered and sat beside them. Seemingly human but for the mechanical arm now tapping a cadence against the countertop. Tom took a second to add to her knowledge of human technology. Replicating the neural impulses needed for intricate finger movements was, by almost any peoples' standards, highly impressive.

[123lealea]

Marcia glanced over at the smaller saiyan, noting the difference in muscle mass and overall demeanour between her and the large one she was standing near. She noticed the way her eyes were looking upon her arm, yet there was no mocking on her face for what she could see, just a simple observation it would seem.

“Hello there.” Marcia allowed herself to say and gave a nod, a few of her violet strands falling over her eyes as she greeted the smaller saiyan. She moved her mechanical hand up and smoothed them back, before she waved at her, her false metal hand making almost the same fluid motion as a real one. The wonders of technology, Bulma really was a genius, making an arm of so many metal components and wires able to function as good as a real one, if not better in some ways.

“How are you? Getting a drink?” She found herself trying to make small talk, “The name is Marcia Violet. What’s yours?”

[sexystrife]

Appezia had not often found herself questioning the judgment of the royal family, especially after having finally reunited with the remaining and having her duty afforded to her with a chance for redemption—but this, this was ridiculous. Appezia emerged from the dark hallways of the ship and found herself in the ship’s hub, staring at a menagerie of women’s undergarments pasted about the bar’s upper rim.

The elder saiyan huffed at the sight, threading her arms tightly across her chest as she turned from the ‘tasteful’ decoration and sought a seat at her sister’s side—still far too busy chewing the scene with her new found compatriot.

“What is the strongest beverage you have, pig?”

[Queen of Cunts]

Oolong sized up all four “women” at the bar. The small one was the only one that looked halfway normal. Between the giant, the butch and the one with the cybernetic arm, he was already getting a bad feeling about this trip. He was starting to wish that Bulma was here. And quiet. Only if she was quiet.

The fact was, at least three of these were Saiyans. The fourth was probably from Earth, but she was like a pea from the same pod. That meant they probably weren’t in the market for the weaker stuff. Fortunately, he’d distilled some good stuff for just such an emergency. He scooped it out of the trough under the bar and beat it into four glasses. Hopefully, it would remain unconscious until they’d ingested it.

“Here you go...” He struggled with the word again, but managed to push it out, “ladies.”

He hadn’t discussed the matter of bar tabs with the Saiyan in charge, or with Bulma, whom he looked upon as second in command, primarily because she was terrifying. But he assumed he had free reign to charge whatever he wanted. And for four mugs of his finest - or at least, his first - creation, he was expecting a pretty penny.

“That’ll be 100 Earth dollars,” he said, “unless you can think of some other way to settle the bill.”

He jerked his head toward his bunting meaningfully.

[Turtle]

Tomta followed his gesture upwards, eyebrows raised. She studied him intently for a moment before leaning in over the counter, and gesturing him to move closer. "The woman beside me," she said, voice low, indicating the huge, well muscled Saiyan attached to her wrist, "does not understand the common tongue. Now, before I translate this for her, I would advise you to think very, very carefully as to weather you are or are not in a position to be making demands."

[Queen of Cunts]

“<Tell the ugly human that I will pay the Saiyan way,>” Zasha thundered, taking a breath before adding the almost obvious conclusion, and punctuating it by slamming her fist down on the bar hard enough to half-empty all four glasses, “<WITH HONOURABLE COMBAT!>”

Zasha grabbed her tankard and held it up over her head to throw the beverage into her mouth. It came unstuck from the bottom of her glass one string at a time, then slowly oozed out of the glass. It flopped onto her tongue and she set about chewing it. It was easy to think of her teeth engaging in honourable combat with the drink, especially when it started to burn.

“<Come,>” she said, slapping her friend heartily on the back, “<you must introduce me to the other denizens of this ship. Especially the odd human with the strange fur.>”

She rose from her stool and strode towards the one with the violet hair at the other end of the bar, dragging Tomta unceremoniously behind her.

“<You! You look like a worthy drinking partner. Come, join me and my battle sisters in toasting the beginning of our journey to slay the evil Frieza. May he rot forever in the pits of damnation. And once we have toasted and been merry, we shall engage in honourable combat.>”

She lifted her arm to dangle Tomta in front of the other woman.

“<Translate, please!>” she boomed, because she had manners, “<and tell the ugly one that I would like cho-co-lart!>”

[123lealea]

Marcia glowered at the pig, a scowl on her lips, about to make a insulting and threatening remark when she heard the big Saiyan lady speak to her, making her blink and look at the the large Saiyan who was sprouting an unknown language out at her, before holding out the smaller Saiyan before her, but she didn't appear to be hostile. Maybe she was trying to make conversation?

“Hello.” Marcia said and gave a nod, before tilting her head in confusion as to what it was the woman wanted from her. "I...don't understand a thing you said."

[Turtle]

"Well, would you look at that," Tomta told Oolong wryly. "She already plans to fight you for it." She sucked in a breath as Zasha yanked her towards Marcia, hovering a little to keep her shoulder from being wrenched from its socket. "She wants to fight you, too. Everyone, really."

[123lealea]

"Fight me?" Marcia blinked, before looking back at the muscular Saiyan woman and looking her over for a moment. Marcia slowly gave a smile and chuckled. "Well, that sounds pretty good. I've been itching for a decent fight. But, only after the drinks. I've been dying to get drunk. Could you tell her that?" She asked the smaller Saiyan dangled in front of her.

[Turtle]

"<She says she'll fight you, but drinks first.>" Tomta informed the larger saiyan, holding in a sigh of relief. It occurred to her that it might be kindest to try and dissuade the human, but she seemed eager enough and really it was safe to assume anyone- she glanced at the pig- well, almost anyone on this mission could hold their own in a fight. And besides, if Zasha didn't find a willing sparring partner soon it would likely be her.

[Queen of Cunts]

“<I approve of this puny earthling!>” Zasha informed Tomta, dropping her back onto her stool so that she could join them in their toast, “<we shall all drink and then there will be fighting!>”

For a ship that was hurtling them to their deaths, Zasha was having a very good time. They would be honourable deaths though, so that would serve as some consolation to them all, she was sure. That was why it was important to fight as much as possible, and to become as strong as possible, before they reached their destination.

She was already enjoying the spoils of war, even if the war hadn’t begun yet. Cho-co-lart had been a tremendous discovery, and she liked the Bul-Moose. The Bul-Moose had fire sticks. And her new battle sister Tomta was a worthy addition to a cadre that had, for the better part of many decades, consisted solely of herself and her sister. She petted the smaller Saiyan on the head fondly.

“<I am sorry, but you cannot be allowed to fight,>” she told Tomta, “<but you must be my translator. I know that it is a grave request for me to ask and I expect you to reject me, particularly when you must possess a formidable fighting power and Saiyan thirst for battle of your own, but I feel it would be best if you allowed me to fight on your behalf.>”

Zasha thumped her chest and held aloft a fist - the one that wasn’t chained to Tomta - containing an empty mug.

“<Tell the ugly human that I will have more, and then tell the furry one that I will fight with her. Twice, because I will fight once on your behalf.>”

[Turtle]

"<Understood," she breathed evenly, careful not to look too eager at the sudden reprieve. It had been a long time since she'd felt instinctively drawn to battle. When the immediate result is pain and humiliation often enough, operant conditioning is only so far behind.

"She'd like another," she informed the ungulate Earthling, reaching for her own mug for the first time "And she'd like to fight you twice, if you're willing," she repeated to the human.