#wutaibandit

DRUNKEN CONFESSION.

status; accepting

Now it was his turn for his face to go flush, though hard to tell with the red glow from the drinking that had spread across his face. He did not need to think about this answer, he knew what his fantasy was and was not ashamed of it. Especially not with liquid courage flowing through his veins. “Hmm..” He smirked to himself, eyes in a far off place.

“Since I like to be dominated. I want to be tied up.” Something that has yet not happened to him and is something that he, for some reason, really wants to try. “I always play the dominant one. Always the top, in my relationships.  I want it to be MY turn to be the submissive, to be a good boy and listen to demands and orders for a change.” 

You have a monkey-butt-tail buddy.

Getting up while rubbing his head, he peeps around, spotting a young, very confused guy who must be wondering where the hell he came from. Putting his hands up in innocence, the guy throws him a quick question, to which the Sayian grants him a sheepish chuckle.

“Ehehe~ Y’see.... I was going to ask you the same thing.” He says upon getting up and dusting his clothes off. “I’m Son Goku, from Earth. I was sent here on a special request from the Gods.”

What a nasty place to call a hideout. The stench of Wererat droppings fill the alleyways, mingled with smog and human sweat, and chemicals that lie abandoned in broken syringes, scattered all across the pavement. This certainly feels like a corner of the slums reasonable people ought to keep away from, but his feet drag him forward relentlessly. He doesn’t trust the silence, either; it can only mean that he’s being watched closely already, that wary ears listen out for the scrape of his soles, or the clinking of empty bottles each time he kicks against them. Narrow as the roads grow, Cloud’s attempts of stealth seem pathetic. Can’t even begin to count all the times Buster Sword bumps into the walls. Every single time is met with a curse under his breath, but Cloud’s so close to the thief he’s hunting, he can’t just leave it here. 

Should anyone get in his way, and they will, he’ll make short work of ‘em. What’s the life of a buncha outcast thugs to him anyway? 

Ramza woke to ringing in his ears. His vision swam for a moment before it focused, and when it did, he realized he wasn’t in familiar surroundings.

The next thing he noticed was a steady, throbbing ache on the right side of his head. When he attempted to lift his hand to it, Ramza was brought up short — his hands were restrained behind his back, both of them bound snug together in a rope. A second later he realized his legs had been bound in a similar fashion, rendering him completely immobile.

This situation wasn’t necessarily a surprise to him, unfortunately. With a price on his head from the church for crime of supposed heresy, it was only a matter of time until someone went after him. The last thing Ramza could recall was a circle of bandits cornering him, one brandishing a knife and another, an axe.

The hilt of either could have been the source of his head injury, but perhaps he was just lucky he hadn’t caught the sharp end of those weapons instead.

He was attempting to shimmy his wrists out of the knot when the door opened, stopping Ramza at once. Whoever these people were, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of watching him cower, but he wasn’t about to show off his attempt at escape, either.

Sitting still in his spot, he narrowed his eyes at the person entering, fighting off the persistent ache in his head so he could concentrate.

“Is this about the bounty?” he questioned, though Ramza was sure it had to be. 

“The reward must be a hefty one, yes? The church certainly knows how to manipulate the starving public. If you turn me in, you might be able to afford living for another few months. It’s a small price to pay for the church -- give the starving a reason to do their dirty work and in return, they get barely enough to scrape by.”

The affect that the androids had on the planet Earth was no secret, they had  caused an apocalypse that spanned over the course of years for the sake of their amusement. Humanity had been driven to such a state of fear, never knowing when or where the twins would strike, let alone if they’d survive the encounter. Humanity itself had been driven to the point of desperation, those who had survived either sought a mentality of unity or self preservation. There seemed to be no hope, as no one could stand a chance at defeating the dreaded duo who terrorized the planet.

However, there were two who staunchly believed that a solution could be found. Trunks and his mother, Bulma, both came to their own conclusions as to how to fix their situation. He had thought it was best to train until he was strong enough and attempt to defeat them once and for all, she had thought to create a machine that could prevent any of the tragedies from happening in the first place. Despite not yet having faith in his mother’s plan, he would still work to assist her in scavenging parts for it, as well as helping in the actual construction of it. As it stood, there was still some time before it would be complete, though she was adamant it would work.