#but i think the egregious references were distracting and hindering

[catsafari25]

Okay so I've finally seen Wish, which was a trip after all the talk I've seen about the villain being Right.

Because I can see what ppl mean about not granting all wishes willy nilly but, like, I felt there was more of an emphasis on the king not allowing ppl to take their wishes back? It was less "you should grant all wishes" and more "if you know you're not going to grant them, you should return them to their owners so ppl can pursue them themselves"

Idk perhaps it comes from the worldbuilding, the magic especially, being fairly thin. It feels like the rules for how wish magic works are just there to make the magic do what the writers need it to do, rather than being a cohesive plot detail. How much control does the king have over how the wishes are granted? What is inherently bad about the evil magic? If stars grant wishes then why can't Star? Do people develop new wishes as they get older? Why do ppl only have One Wish fully formed by 18?

Plus I thought the film was going to end with a "you can't just rely on someone to magically make your dreams come true, you've gotta take responsibility for them" message, which it tries to, but then also makes Asha a fairy godmother, so ppl can still just have their wishes magically granted??

(I have other issues with the film, chiefly the lacklustre songs, the tragic backstory hinted and then dropped, the sometimes blinding or shoved-in references to other Disney movies, but the villain having a point wasn't the part that broke it for me. Idk I think Once Upon a Studio should have been the Disney homage, and Wish allowed to be its own story)

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 6

[I love these dorks and I’m glad I finally got to write them having a fairly proper conversation in this verse. Two dumbasses “bonding” the best way they know how.]

VEGETA

"I don't need an escort. You know I'm perfectly capable of handling myself," Nabooru informed him for the fifth time in an hour. She leaned down and plucked a gold tube from a lower shelf, turning it over between her fingers and examining it. Vegeta glanced at the tag: lip color. If this trip accomplished anything, it would end her whining about running out of makeup. "Epecially if I have to listen to you sigh or see you roll your eyes every time I enter a new shop. Why don't you go enjoy yourself? These are your days off, too."

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the nearby wall. One of the few in the cramped store devoid of product. At least the other patrons knew to give them a wide berth, and if they didn't, a displeased glare sent them on their way. "Quit saying that. For the last time, it's not a matter of your ability to take care of yourself. The worst that will happen to you on one of these resort planets is you'll go broke from gambling and wasting your money or drink yourself to death, and I couldn't care less if you do either of those things." He huffed. "I'm here to make sure you don't get lost or do something stupid."

It wasn't a complete lie. More commonly referred to as pleasure planets, these particular prospects in the Cold Empire were set aside specifically for commerce, recreation, and leisure, especially for soldiers and others employed by the Cold family. Cut into sprawling districts--business, recreation, lodging, and headquarters--it was easy for even those familiar with the ins and outs of the hubs to wind up turned around and in a less than optimal situation. Protocol for who could set up shop was loose, the vetting process quick and simple with few questions asked for lack of time. While he had surmised Nabooru was intelligent, strong, and savvy enough to avoid too much trouble on her own, inexperience in navigating the finer and more nuanced aspects of resort planets would be her downfall. The last thing he wanted was to clean up her messes on top of the trouble Nappa and Raditz would no doubt cause in the next three days.

"Mm, so you just have nothing better to do, huh?" She popped the lid off the tube and observed the blood red shade revealed. "Three days of endless liquor and sex isn't your thing?"

Vegeta grimaced. "Tch. Obviously not. I have standards unlike the other two."

"Following me around while I shop is a better option?" she asked, hint of a smirk on her lips.

"Yes," he replied bluntly. She tossed the tube into her basket resting over her forearm and moved on to the next shelf. He followed. "You've seen how they get. It's deplorable."

Nabooru lifted a bottle of what he guessed to be a perfume of sorts and lifted the nozzle to her nose. She sniffed and it immediately crinkled at the bridge, her expression one of disgust. He mentally thanked her for not spraying to test it; if she looked about to retch, his sensitive nose would have him seeking refuge in the crowded streets. 

"Mm, they remind me of my best friend back home. She liked to spend her free time similarly, and tried to drag me along with her more than a few times." 

She blinked and realization flashed across her features, followed by a frown and a hint of regret in her golden eyes. Her attachment to her home world was still far too fresh, he noted. The wound had yet to scar over. Memories still made her long for what she could no longer have. Vegeta could relate to some degree, and the pesky what if thoughts still plagued him from time to time concerning his planet and race. He pushed them away as quickly as they spawned; he had no room for such sentimentality, and the sooner she realized the same, the better off she would be.

"What do you like to do for fun, anyway?"

Vegeta's gaze shifted over to the woman when addressed once more. She had moved to the next section, the action escaping his notice while he considered how her emotions would hinder her performance. "Fun," he repeated with a snort. "As if I have time for fun. At least not by most people's definition of it."

"Try me. And I did ask for your definition of it. It's not embarrassing or something, is it?"

"Of course not," he growled. "The only fun I have typically is in training or finding some poor sap on base to spar, and even then I can only fit in a few hours at best between missions and preparing for them."

Nabooru laughed softly and added another item to her basket. "I never thought I'd say it, but we actually have something in common, Vegeta." She winked from behind the orange glass of her scouter and sauntered up to the counter, unperturbed by the grunt the four-armed cashier gave her. "I hardly ever wanted to do anything that wasn't related to my training or combat. It's where I thrived and felt most alive. Even when I was injured, I was reading about other styles or strategies, observing the others while they trained, or trying to sneak a session or two in without anyone noticing. Like you, I wish I had more time for it…you guys weren't kidding when you said we stay busy."

"Hmpt…" Vegeta watched her complete the transaction with the clerk, the process of paying with her credits sticking after he impatiently taught her in the last store. He kept it to himself, but he could respect that in her. If it stuck in a new environment, she could prove more useful to him than he imagined. And with a perhaps similar soreness toward Frieza and the empire as his that could potentially grow with time…

The pair left the shop and returned to the streets, squeezing past milling passerbys and other shoppers hurrying to find the best deals. Distracted by hoots and hollers meant for the Gerudo and discouraging the annoyance with a snarl, the Saiyan nearly collided with Nabooru's back when she halted suddenly, a display in the window catching her eye. 

He cursed under his breath and followed her gaze to understand what she found so interesting as to nearly cause a collision. On the other side of the glass was a hodgepodge of weapons on display, some he recognized from conquered planets and others foreign and strange. He snorted when he realized where her focus lay: a pair of curved blades resting at the hips of a gaudily dressed mannequin. 

"Swords, woman? You don't need them."

He didn't miss the twitch of her fingers at her side. The tense of her jaw and fire in her eyes. "I know that. Before I learned to use ki, swords like this were my weapon of choice, and--" She cut herself off, shooting him a glare. His smirk widened. "I didn't expect to see something like them here, that's all."

Despite her ill temper, she returned her gaze to the swords. Likely considering purchasing them just to spite him, if Vegeta had to guess. Or lost in memories of her past. Perhaps he would have enjoyed time with Nappa and Raditz if she was going to be bogged down by her damn emotions.

"You can create those with ki."

"What?"

The words left his mouth before he realized he vocalized them, and her confusion proved contagious for a moment. "Ki swords. I've seen it done." He folded his arms. "Why don't you try to figure it out? They would be far more effective than those."

She observed him with narrowed gaze for several seconds before humming and returning her attention to the blades. "It would take quite a bit of control to make them hold their shape. I would want it to look right and not just be shapeless," she mused, raising her hands and flexing her fingers and curling them back into her palms. He saw her eyes shift back to him in the reflection of the glass, suspicion apparent in her pursed lips and hooded eyes. "Why would you suggest it if you think weapons like that are stupid?"

Vegeta scowled, his tail tightening around his waist. "Anything to get your mind off a home you'll likely never see again. It's a waste of your time and energy. A weakness you can't afford," he hissed, ignoring her flinch and the glare that followed. "Besides, if it's a style you're used to, it will only make you more effective in battle." A smirk curled his lips. "And watching you slice people in half might be entertaining. If you're up for the challenge of mastering it, that is."

Nabooru remained silent for a beat longer, chewing her lower lip in thought or perhaps as a measure to keep her from picking a fight with him in such a crowded area. Not that he wouldn't welcome a brawl. Finally, she turned on her heel and began her procession up the street again, spine rigid and chin aloft in stubborn defiance. "Maybe I will. And I'll do it better than anyone else has before me."

"Right. I'll believe it when I see it," he said with a snort.

Nabooru shifted the bags on her arm, but kept her back to him. "I'm going back to my room." She tossed her hair over her shoulder and twisted her head to the side to meet his gaze. "I don't need an escort for a nap, do I? Unless you know some soothing lullabies to sing for me."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Go. You're beginning to annoy me anyway."

"We're on the same page then."

He didn't get a chance to sling any clever retorts back at her as orange energy enveloped her as she took off into the sky, leaving the Saiyan amongst the rabble and agitated. And, even as he headed off himself and locked himself away in his own temporary quarters, he couldn't shake it with any amount of pacing or idle research on his scouter. With Nappa and Raditz, he decompressed within moments when they pushed his buttons. But Nabooru seemed to possess a particular knack for getting under her skin. But why? Was it that her power was similar to his own? Him being unused to his subordinates speaking to him as she did? Should he teach her a lesson? Would that do much unless he outright killed her? Was it worth the effort when, deep down, he knew she hadn't done anything especially egregious to warrant the harshest of punishments? Not that he needed a reason to kill anyone. Frieza would likely shrug it off himself. But she had proven herself an asset, powerful and efficient. Capable of completing whatever task she was given despite her moral hang ups to them. Was his agitation worth ridding himself of her, then, when she could aid him in killing Frieza?

His grip on the windowsill tightened and he grit his teeth. The fur on his tail stood on end. Damn her. She danced on the fine line between insubordination and compliance, being a nuisance and a competent warrior, too well.  Flawed, but too valuable for him to kill. If he could find some reason that she deserved it…

Vegeta shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his face. He crossed the room to his bed and stretched out on it, closing his eyes. He hated it, but wasting his time searching for reasons to off the damnable woman was counterproductive. If they existed, they would show up on their own. Or she'd wind up dead on some mission or incur Frieza's or some other general's wrath. For now, he would take advantage of the extra firepower in his arsenal. The decent conversation and wit she offered when he humored her or bothered to listen in on conversations with the other two. The break from staring at eye sores like Nappa and Raditz day in and day out…

------------

His nap lasted little more than a few hours, a call from Nappa checking in waking him from his fitful slumber. After reprimanding the general for it and listening to his drunken attempt to assure him that he and Raditz were doing just fine and had caused "absolutely no trouble whatsoever, not even a single brawl that definitely didn't end in at least two casualties and several injured," Vegeta ended the call and buried his face in his pillow. Sleep had done nothing for his mood. If anything, it left him more sour than when he drifted off. 

The prince growled and punched the mattress next to his head, springing from the bed when he surmised sleep would only continue to evade him. A glance out the window as he tugged his armor violently back on over his head revealed a darkening sky, meaning most would be shifting from the commerce and resort districts to seek out more lively entertainment. He considered joining the rabble or tracking down Nappa and Raditz for a split second before deciding against it, the thought of large crowds a less than stellar situation to be in in his mind. Though, remaining cloistered in his room sounded just as unappealing. 

Deciding a physical check on the other two Saiyans would at least occupy him for a time, he refit his scouter to his face and tapped the button to perform a scan. Sure enough, he pinpointed their scouter models in the entertainment district and, just as he was about to pin the location in his tracker, the scouter pinged a third location in one of the few unincorporated areas of the planet just outside the resort district. Nabooru's. His eyes narrowed, and his tail lashed against the mattress behind him. In the time he slept, she had left her room down the hall to venture off on her own. For what, he couldn't fathom. But finding out sounded better than dealing with the crowds and his drunken cohorts attempting to secure a bed mate for the night.

Vegeta exited the hotel and traced the signal of her scouter and power level to an island in the only prominent body of water left on the planet. He slowed his flight and descended, finding her seated along the shoreline with her back to him. Orange light flickered in front of her and held her focus, masking his landing and approach. As he strode closer, he noted how the sphere of ki at the tip of her index finger wavered as it shifted shape, elongating before sinking back to its original shape. He smirked to himself.

“I see you took my advice.”

Nabooru straightened her spine in a jolt and twisted around, the energy dissipating with the inward curl of her finger. "And I see you followed me again. Couldn't stay away from me, huh?" She turned back toward the water, an unsettlingly still reflection of the sky above. She rested her palms behind her and leaned back into them. "Are you that bored or did you need something? I was kind of hoping to be alone if I'm being honest."

He observed her back and his usual glower settled back into place, the fleeting thought of drowning her momentarily appealing. With her ponytail tossed over her shoulder to the front, he noted she had removed her armor and found it lying in a pile with her boots, leggings, gloves, and scouter off near a rock jutting out of the island’s surface. Vulnerable he couldn’t help but think. He found it odd that, even now, she didn't’ scramble to pull it back on and remedy that in the face of a potential threat. That she could stand to appear even remotely weak in the presence of another, friend or foe.

To spite her, Vegeta shifted to stand beside her, planting himself firmly in place at her side. He was in no hurry to locate the other two, and he hoped she might pick a fight with him if he remained. Physical or verbal, it didn't matter to him. He unfurled his tail from his waist, allowing it to stretch and sway contentedly behind him.

Time passed at a crawl, the sky above them and its reflection in the water a smattering of twinkling stars on black canvas and the planet's two moons now visible in crescent phases. Nabooru remained silent and near unmoving save for a change in position to extending one leg outward and bringing the other knee toward her chest despite his obvious refusal to leave her alone. He chanced a glance over and found her staring out at the water once more, gaze distant and mind obviously elsewhere. He might as well not exist to her from the look of it. His patience waning, his tail exemplifying such with more aggressive and punctuated arcs near his calves, he opened his mouth to degrade her, only for her to finally speak up.

"It's funny, you know," she began, gold eyes never leaving the overly still surface of the lake. Vegeta closed his mouth, lips set in a tight line and gaze narrowing. "I never cared too much for rank or my titles back home. Outside of wanting to be part of the Elite, I wasn't looking for a more formal leadership position. But...outside of missing my home, my people, I think I almost miss them more."

The Saiyan remained silent, uncertain if she addressed him at all, of what to say in general, or if he wanted to entertain a conversation like this with her at all. It edged toward too personal, blurring the lines of leader and subordinate that he was already struggling to keep clear with her. Still, he couldn't deny the curiosity he had concerning her. Nappa had clued him in on bits and pieces of her background, what little bit she shared with him while they trained. But, unless Nappa held out on him, Nabooru had proven scrupulous, smart about what she did and didn't reveal. The months of servitude to Frieza apparently wore her down and made her careless, as she seemed keen on continuing. He did, however, discreetly switch off his scouter and hoped her voice was low enough that her own couldn't pick it up. Habit, he surmised.

"I was second in command of my people and if I had been born in a different time where we didn't have a king, I might have been leader. I was engaged to our king and set to be queen someday, even if it really was just a title and wouldn't have changed much in the way of my duties. I was the best warrior we had produced in decades or longer. And I had worked hard to earn all of it. But now…" A slight twinge of pain twisted her features and she pulled her other knee up to join the other. She draped her arms around them. The pain dissolved and her brows lowered, frown deepening and the initial sparks of anger flared in her eyes. "All of that was stripped from me. My name, my titles, even my race known for being powerful warriors...It all means nothing. I'm nobody here. I have no identity any more. It's something I never knew I would miss since it never felt all that important to me..."

That he understood. Better than homesickness. Definitely more than her moral hang ups. He still clung to his title of Saiyan Prince despite the lack of power it held. How those above him used it to mock him rather than a sign of respect of his station. The prince of two meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it was his title. With little left, he refused to dispose of it or let anyone else forget it. Saiyan still meant something among their peers. Most soldiers understood the might of the Saiyan race, how powerful and ruthless a single warrior could be. But Gerudo warrior, elite, leader, whatever...she was right to say it meant nothing there. Her home planet had only been recently discovered. Her people, while he could give her the benefit of the doubt in their skills as warriors, did not have the notoriety of his race. She was utterly alone and truly a nobody, forced to start over and prove herself once more to likely never advance higher than she stood now.

Nabooru suddenly twisted, face tilted upward to meet his gaze. "How do you do it?" She asked. He couldn't miss the hint of desperation in her voice. "How do you...how do you keep going? You've lost so much too, and yet--"

He cut her off with a raised hand and a stern glare. He aimed his index finger at her scouter. Energy shot from his fingertip, and the device exploded in a burst of glass and plastic. He rolled his eyes in light of her protests. "You'll get a new one back at base. Accidents happen. You never know who could be listening, and I'd hate for you to incriminate yourself so soon."

He removed his own scouter and crushed it in his fist. Paranoia, perhaps, since he had cut its power at the beginning of her rant, but he knew Frieza and his goons had higher access to scouter feeds. He didn't know if that extended to ones powered down somehow, but he didn't trust that they didn't.

"I was young when my planet was destroyed. I hadn't built up quite the…attachments to it in the same way as you, I suppose," Vegeta responded, folding his arms over his chest. For him, he never got the chance to fall in love with his planet or form bonds with his people as a whole or even individuals. A prince of seven, he knew little past the walls of the palace personally, save for what his parents, Nappa, or other tutors told him. It did not free him from longing for it, for what could have and should have been, but such thoughts angered him more than saddened him. Rage simmered over the injustice of it, of everything he endured over the years, and all that came to matter to him was revenge. For the abuses, the disrespect, for robbing him of everything he was promised. Placing him in such a position where he felt powerless. Weak and a slave to a tyrants whim. The tyrant he knew destroyed his home and people. Meteor his ass.

"I focus on my goals." He eyed her, unsure of how much he wanted to divulge to her. What pieces he could chance slipping her without sending her running to Frieza, hoping for some sort of promotion if she rat him out for his dream of treason. She had shown her power, a modicum of usefulness that could prove useful in an alliance. But her loyalty had yet to be truly tested, his hard won trust yet to be earned. Thus, he settled on a vague truth: "You've no doubt seen how myself and my cohorts are treated for our race. I focus on showing them how grave a mistake they make underestimating Saiyans. Of underestimating me. I want them all to fear me the way they feared our entire race for generations."

"Not exactly concrete but...a commendable goal, considering. I don't blame you." She snorted. "You know, Zarbon told me to stay away from you three on my first day if I knew what was good for me. Like it would tarnish my nonexistent reputation or something."

"Tch, of course he did. And now you have no choice. How ironic," he drawled, teeth clenched and tail lashing twice behind him.

Nabooru extended her long legs out in front of her and rested her hands on her knees. She gazed out at the water in silence, watched some small, aquatic creature break the surface of the lake, spin in midair, and disappear once more. Finally, she looked back up at him, the ghost of a smile on her full lips. "For what it's worth, I am glad for that. I've met some of the others, seen how their squadrons operate, how ugly they are, inside and out, and even on the worst days of dealing with you three I'm glad for it. Maybe it's just our similar warrior spirits, but you three feel...familiar in some ways. It's a small comfort."

"I didn't realize you were such a suck up." While too emotional for his tastes, at least that perhaps meant she would continue to mesh well enough with them. Cause little more drama than the usual shenanigans Nappa and Raditz got up to. "Are you done being sappy? It's making me sick."

She laughed and rose to her feet, stretching her arms skyward and lengthening her body. "Honestly, I only said any of that because I figured you wouldn't listen anyway." She strode over to the pile of her belongings and picked up her armor. She pulled it on over her head and adjusted it for comfort. "I wanted to let that out, and at least with you standing there I would feel slightly less insane than talking to the water."

"Hmpt. I shouldn't have. All your whining gave me indigestion." His tail swayed with docile calm behind him, despite his words. 

"Aw, your poor thing. Want me to make it up to you?" She pulled a burgundy stocking up the length of her leg to her thigh, and his mind betrayed him with more lewd insinuations behind the suggestion. He turned his attention back to the water, glad another creature hopped out of itto mask the sudden movement. The cursed warmth in his cheeks. 

He chanced a glance back to find her tugging her gloves on. "You said you like sparring. How about it? I'm not really tired enough to go back to my room yet."

A spar. He berated his perverted notions. He unfolded his arms and cracked his knuckles, tail returning to its position at his waistline. "Fine. It's the least you can offer for making me suffer." His smirk returned. "Just don't cry when I kick your ass again since you want to be so emotional."

It was Nabooru’s turn to roll her eyes. “Same goes to you. Nappa says you’re a sore loser.”

“I don’t know how he would know when I never lose.”

“Oh? So I get to take your loss virginity, huh?”

Vegeta growled, but he couldn’t deny his excitement in the wake of a spar. The adrenaline beginning to surge through his veins as he remembered their first. How she had only improved since then. 

“Shut up.” He hovered over the surface of the lake, arms folded. “Let’s see if you can back up all your talk.”