lucetilogs | He was always a rock when I needed one (closed)

Entry tags:

He was always a rock when I needed one (closed)

Who: Bulla and Vegeta (open to Bulma as well)
What: A special Father's Day celebration, Saiyan (and half-Saiyan) style
When: June 16th all day
Where: Brief household, Battle Dome and then back home again
Summary: Bulla trained diligently for over a month in order to surprise her dad. This is the result.
Rating: PG for sparring violence

Bulla was up uncharacteristically early, but she wanted to wake up before her father. She prepared a generous breakfast with pancakes, eggs, bacon, bagels with cream cheese and orange juice. Her outfit had been carefully selected. Fashionable, and yet, something she could train in without minding if it got sweaty. She'd been planning this for over a month, and as far as she knew, her father had no idea how much time she'd been spending training. She'd pretended to do very little other than exercise - she claimed she'd been going running, or just exercising with friends to stay fit to explain the times she came in sweaty and wearing athletic (though still ver colour coordinated) clothing.

It wasn't a lie - she had been getting plenty of exercise with friends. She just downplayed the extent of it by a lot, and didn't mention training at all. There was no reason for him to think that she'd changed her routine by much. The lack of a shopping mall necessitated finding other hobbies, but she'd kept herself busy with Fashion Club with Quinn and that wasn't a secret at all.

"Good morning, Dad!" she greeted cheerfully when her father finally emerged. "Happy Father's Day."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bulla realized with some surprise that he was right. Even after slamming into the wall like that, she wasn't badly injured, and she wasn't ready to collapse from exhaustion. She was even recovering from her dazed state quickly, although she wasn't quite ready to rush in and try to hit him in the face just yet. Anytime she'd managed to land a hit, it was because she thought things through. Now that he was realizing the extent that she'd been practicing, he was probably adjusting his expectations of what she could handle accordingly.

She got into stance, took a deep breath and looked for an opportunity. She might be far less skilled, but she had watched her father train and fight in tournaments far too much to take the most obvious opening, or to let herself be too easily goaded by a taunt. She didn't have to be good fighter to know that would be a bad idea.

Finally, she darted in, aiming several kicks in rapid succession at him. The more powerful kicks were aimed at his abdomen, in an attempt to make him drop his guard. It was only the faster, but less powerful kicks that she bothered to aim at his face. She didn't want to be grabbed by the ankle and thrown so soon after her last experience.

There it was. Her kicks came in strong and fast, as he dodging what he can and blocking what he can't. He's keeping his defense up and not allowing his daughter to get any hits in that she doesn't deserve, though a couple of the head kicks almost graze his cheek a few times and a kick or two to his midsection land violently against a strong forearm. When did she get this strong?

Either way, she's making him back up as her assault continues, slowly pushing him toward the wall. He continues his defense, letting her go at it to see if she could actually land a blow on him before he gets cornered and has to do something about it.

The challenge had been to hit him in the face, but Bulla found herself hard pressed to land any hits at all. There were a few close calls. She was pleased with herself that at least she was forcing him to exert effort to keep her from landing any blows. She might not be the most challenging sparring partner for him, but what she'd managed so far still counted as an achievement. It wasn't something she could have done months ago. The upside to all of this was that while she was on the offensive, she was keeping him too busy to land hits on her.

She tried a few more kicks before alternating them with punches, trying to focus most of her blows on his abdomen in an effort to make him concentrate more of his defense there. If she was going to land a hit right in his face, she was going to have to be smart about it. Finally, she saw an opportunity, but rather than give it away by focusing directly on where she was going to strike, she only kept that side of his face in her peripheral vision. At the last possible split second, she darted in and aimed an uppercut at his face.

The blows to his abdomen are met with dodges and blocks, sidestepping back when he had to. He couldn't believe she'd improved so much in such a short amount of time. The girl hasn't been in Luceti any longer than three months and only training, as far as he knows, for a couple of months at best- but he feels he really shouldn't be surprised at the improvement, but rather at her motivation to actually learn to fight.

The uppercut comes in fast, and he's not expecting it; and just as it flies at him, he raises his chin up and bends back, her knuckle grazing the side of it. Unfortunately it's left his abdomen wide open.

She'd only barely landed anything on his face, but Bulla wasn't going to be so discouraged by failure that she missed her opportunity. If he was going to leave himself wide open like that, she'd be a fool not to act.

It wasn't something she was conscious of, but the more she fought, the more her natural battle instincts bubbled to the surface. Combined with all the years she'd spent watching her father train, she could read him better than many of his tournament opponents. At the very least, it helped her avoid making some of the stupider rookie mistakes she could have. Especially since she inherited his temper along with her Saiyan abilities, but lacked the many years of combat experience.

Whirling around to add more force to her blow, she struck at his undefended abdomen with her knee and brought her fists up to guard her face.

Her knee lands right in his stomach, a lot harder than he thought she was capable of. Vegeta's been hit a lot harder than this, but it's still pretty hard considering. He bends over slightly from the impact, feeling a bit of air knocked right out of him. His own hands go up in a guard, expecting a hook of some sort or anything at all to continue the assault. She'd gotten him but he won't let that happen again if he can help it.

He also feels that it's almost that time to make her go on the defensive.

For a moment, Bulla hesitated to follow through with another attack. She was too shocked that anything she could do was capable of actually injuring him. It was less surprising that she could throw him - that was a matter of timing. After that, launching his body weight was easy, even with increased gravity. This, however...

Then she saw his hands go up to defend himself, and her concern mostly went away. Of course he'd be able to keep going. There was no reason to worry. She was just stronger than he was used to her being, and he still hadn't adjusted because he didn't know exactly how much he needed to adjust to. She tried to look for an opening to hit him in the face, punches swift and persistent just in case she could create an opening.

He sees the hesitation, making him frown. She shouldn't be hesitating, she should have immediately followed up and tried to go right for his face or something, not stand there even for half a second to consider it. From there, he can see all the ways he could counterattack, really not a good idea on Bulla's part. Maybe it was because she was hitting her father, that caused her to hesitate- so he'll make her regret that. Just because he was her dad doesn't mean that in this situation she should be holding back at all.

He continues to block when she resumes, but he's going to start moving a little faster now. And he'll be looking for his own opening to parry a punch, with the intent of making her defend herself with his own assault.

Bulla only narrowly dodged the punch coming her way, the force of the blow still managing to rustle her bangs as it passed. She tried to look for an opportunity to go back on the offensive, but it seemed that he was starting to figure out how much she could handle. Or if not, that he'd be testing via seeing how fast she could go when she had the incentive of dodging more blows to contend with.

He's not going to let up. He starts with a round of kicks to her midsection and up to her head, fast and throwing in punches here and there to keep her on her toes. And the more she dodges, the faster the blows came in- because he wants to judge just how fast she can move. That is, until he finds the breaking point.

And then? He's going to see how much she can take from getting hit. And it probably won't feel too good. Nothing like breaking bones, but you don't learn to deal with getting hit without being on the receiving end.

At this point, Bulla was very glad for Cliff's paintball dodging training. She alternated between dodging and blocking, occasionally letting out a little 'eep!' noise when a blow came dangerously close to her face. Gradually, as she was forced on the defensive, she realized something. He was very gradually increasing his speed and forcing her to do the same if she wanted to keep stopping herself from getting hit.

Unfortunately for her, she reached the point where she couldn't keep with him, and the blows started coming in. Compared to her father's punches and kicks, everyone else's felt like love taps by comparison.

She sincerely tried not to whine and complain. She knew what she was getting into sparring with him. But it hurt, and she eventually folded like a napkin. "...okay, that's totally enough to judge how much of a hit I can take, Dad," she said between coughs.

"Heheheh. Good. Now we can actually start the real training now that I know that much. That was just the warm up." He sets back into his stance, ready to keep going. Only this time, it wasn't going to be just him defending, it would be like an actual spar, at least that was the intent.

"No more games. Now we actually fight." He doesn't wait long though, since now he's flying back in at her with fists up starting his assault with a flurry of punches at her.

"That...was the warm up?!" Bulla looked alarmed. That had been plenty intense, and she'd taken enough hits that it felt like a real sparring match already.

She brought up her hands to defend, aware of all the bruises her arms would be covered in as she blocked the blows to the best of her ability. And yet, as much as it hurt, he still was holding back. He'd just tested her limits to ensure that he was pushing her to her maximum potential at the moment. Too bad for her that she'd never bothered to push herself to those limits before.

When she spotted an opening, she lashed out with a kick aimed at his stomach.

He dodges the kick by moving in and to the side while spinning his body as he's bringing up his elbow. The spin is meant to give momentum for him to throw his elbow right into her stomach, which is what he's trying to hit right now.

If she thought he was being hard before, now will surprise her because he isn't giving her any freebies, and he wants to make sure she knows what it is to be hit.

The elbow connected with her stomach, and Bulla went flying while clutching her stomach. She caught herself mid-air and grit her teeth. This hurt and she'd been hoping their training would be more instructing and less sparring, but in a way, it was its own lesson. It was a reminder that fights were hard, and that they involved a lot of pain.

She took a deep breath and prepared herself before charging in again. If he really wanted to test what she was capable of, then she'd test and see how much she could endure. Not to mention how much she could continue to dish back out. It occurred to her that it was a very good thing she'd already told her friends she'd be unavailable for the next two days after. Odds were that she wouldn't be able to move by the time the day was over.

Darting in, she punched as quickly as she could, trying to get in a quick shot in his face.

Another round of dodging, blocking, and catching punches- but throwing his own punches back at her in the midst of her assault. Counter attacking, it was an important concept she had to learn, and just because she came in with a flurry of punches and kicks doesn't mean that her opponent wasn't going to throw their own back. He'd been letting himself stay on the defensive for most of the session, but he's aiming his own attacks at her now, while still mitigating her own blows.

A few punches come dangerously close to his face, but he won't let her hit him if he can help it.

She tried to block as many of the incoming blows as she could, but some of them still got through her defenses. They hurt, and were only mediated by the fact that she was almost dodging and not quite taking the full force of the attacks. Still, it was better to throw out attacks than to try to focus entirely on defense. At this point, he was going too fast for her to try catching his arm for another throw just yet, but she was dealing with the pain a little better than before. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or perhaps it was her natural Saiyan instincts surfacing, making her shrug off the pain in favour of hitting back (or trying to).

Darting in close, she suddenly dropped low and followed through, springing up with an uppercut aimed at his chin. He'd challenged her to hit him in the face and she wasn't going to give up until she either managed it or was too tired to get up. Whichever came first.

Her fighting certainly improved- she was dealing with the blows a lot better than she would have previously, as he continued to throw his barrage of attacks mixed in with keeping up a defense of his own. The uppercut comes, and he slides back just slightly, going to try to grab her wrist with his left hand and bring his own uppercut to her stomach.

The moment she felt her wrist seized, Bulla knew there was no way of completely avoiding the hit. She tensed her abdominal muscles to absorb some of the damage and let her breath hiss out instead of having the blow completely wind her. The impact still stung and she found herself coughing, but it didn't drop her.

On the contrary, she decided to take advantage of his left hand being around her wrist, and grabbed at his wrist with her free hand, intent on throwing him. Maybe if she managed to throw him down hard enough on his butt, she'd get the chance to catch her breath for a moment.

As soon as she's got his wrist, he knows where he's going- but it's a bit late and he feels himself getting lifted up and thrown, flying past her and hitting the ground, rolling across it until he finally manages to get his hands in the right position to push himself back up onto his feet. He doesn't waste any more than a moment after getting back up before he's flying back in with fists raised once more.

Though the fists are just a ploy, the real attack comes right before he reaches her when he switches gears and throws a side kick at her face.

Bulla was glad she'd spent so much time watching him train as a child. While that had just been an adoring child cheering on her daddy, it had a small advantage. Years of watching him made her better at reading him than most of his tournament opponents with more fighting experience. She was good at guessing when he was faking an opponent out. She'd never thought back then of how those observations could be applied, because she'd never taken any real interest in training and easily whined her way out of most of it.

She ducked and let the side kick fly over her head, then jumped into a defensive stance. She found she did better when she took a moment to think things through, and some of the new moves she'd learned were more defensive in nature.

He might of missed, but he's not wasting time just because of that- he tries another fake out immediately afterward, pivoting to look like he's about to throw a turn kick at her midsection but then throws a heavy right hand punch at her face.

Bulla moved to block the side kick, thinking that he wouldn't try faking her out again immediately after she'd read him correctly. Instead, she found herself wide open for the punch, and though she realized her mistake a split-second before it landed, she didn't get her hand up to block in time. The hit knocked her flying, and she was too stunned from the blow to effectively stop herself from slamming into the wall.

For a moment, she even saw double-vision, and her first attempt to get up left her reeling and dizzy.

He sets back in his stance, pleased with the hit, but not because he managed to hit her. It was because now she was getting a taste of what it was like to be in a real fight. Vegeta's confident that the blow he'd just dealt wasn't going to end it for her, but rather send a rude wake up call on how to defend herself a little better. Smiling, he calls out to her-

"You've got to be a bit quicker than that! That wasn't even hard. Now come on. I gave you a challenge and you've yet to rise to meet the occasion. Just because I'm your dear old dad doesn't mean you should be holding back."

Bulla rubbed her face where it hit, wobbily getting to her feet. It hurt, but at least he was making an effort to balance restraint and challenging her. She knew that he was hitting her with a level of force appropriate to what she'd shown she could handle and dish out, and he wasn't continuing to hit her when she was down.

/So why am I getting back up again?/ part of her objected. She'd already done more than she ever had before. However, the fact that she could get up after that and shake it off meant that she could take more, and could still dish out more. She'd committed to a full day or as close to it as she could possibly manage. Wimping out now would not only be cheating him, but also cheating herself of learning the extent of what she could really do when motivated.

/Tomorrow, I'll sleep most of the day, and not train for at least a couple more days after that,/ she promised herself, appeasing that side of her that preferred to take it easy. /But for now.../

She launched herself at him, unleashing a barrage of punches and kicks. She wanted to meet that challenge of his at least once before she let herself rest.

He was always a rock when I needed one (closed)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

btw if i'm being too harsh with him, lemme know

Nah, it's okay. XD He was rough with Trunks when he was 8, and she's almost 16

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)