Okay...first of all…
I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO GO ON HIATUS I SWEAR PLEASE STILL LOVE ME.
I just lost my motivation, guys, I am so sorry. I want to punch myself but I won't because I like my face. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter. I don't know if it's my favorite, but whatever. I'm off hiatus? Maybe? I hope so? *hides*
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.
Song Prompt: Pieces ~ Icon For Hire
Chapter 18: Shatter the Peace
Bulma opened her eyes and realized that last night might have been the last time she ever slept.
It was a depressing thought, especially having just awoken from a rather pleasant dream involving her and her newly expanded family having a picnic of sorts, in which nearly all the sweets had been comprised of strawberry related foods. The remembrance of those foods made her hungry, but she was also too worried to want to eat something.
She bit her lip, stretching, and climbed out of bed quietly. A glance at her clock told her that it was only 5:45 AM, which was extremely early for her. By now, of course, she was very much awake, and thus four hours of sleep on her possibly last night of existence would have to do.
A step into the silent halls revealed another surprise; Vegeta was still asleep. Having just recovered from their Seijuku and Seicho , Veji and Gitah were still sleeping soundly, and Ouji, apparently, felt no need to wake up, since there was no possible way for him to get stronger here. Her mother would be up soon, ready to begin cooking the Saiyans breakfast. For now, the house belonged to her.
She felt, for just a moment, that she should go and ask Ouji what he thought of the upcoming foes. She knew that he would not tell her, but if she gauged by his reaction…
No, that would only make it worse. If he didn't know about the incident, then it was entirely possible that many of them would die. If he did, then that meant that he had survived, at least, and so had she, but what did that say for her friends? Would Yamcha die again, or Krillin, or any of the others? The idea appalled her, and she decided that she rather be worried on the edge of her seat than filled with dread and misery.
Her parents could offer no comfort to her either; they were the furthest things from warriors, and wouldn't have a clue as to what she could do about the invaders. She couldn't dump her worries on the boys either. They were young, and still freshly scarred from either their own death or that of many loved ones. They'd hardly be able to help themselves, never mind her.
Vegeta wouldn't be much help simply because he was a jerk, but he was the only one who knew about it besides. The thought of approaching him made her uncomfortable, but the thought of being alone when she was so scared was worse.
So there she was, standing outside his bedroom, and thinking that this was quite possibly her most horrid idea ever. She couldn't imagine what his reaction would be, coming into his room like a frightened child…
He'd laugh at her.
At least then I'll be angry instead of terrified, she reasoned, and knocked quietly. There was no answer, much to her surprise, and fearing that she'd wake the others, she quietly turned the knob and slipped inside.
He lay on the left side of the bed, farthest from the door, his bare back facing her. He slept quietly, as though listening for something, but his breathing was so steady and relaxed that Bulma wondered how exhausted he'd really been. She felt bad for trying to wake him now.
She bit her lip, and after much hesitation, she sat down at the head of the bed and drew her knees up to her chest. She glanced at the Saiyan beside her and sighed, feeling foolish.
Vegeta shifted and pressed his face into his pillow, sighing loudly. Bulma blinked…she'd honestly expected him to look as grumpy in his sleep as he did in real life. "Why are you always so stubborn?" she said quietly.
"Why are you in my room?" he murmured back.
She jumped, startled. "Did I wake you?"
"Yes. What do you want?"
"I was scared…"
Vegeta fell silent, remembering, and rolled over, looking at her with observant black eyes. "Of Frieza?"
"Same thing," he muttered. He pillowed his hand underneath his head and exhaled calmly. "Death won't be so bad for you. You're a spoiled heiress who's only killed insects."
"Thanks," she said, somewhat sarcastically.
"Don't mention it."
There was a pause. "Do you think we'll be okay?" she asked quietly.
"Why don't you ask your precious Ouji?"
"I'm afraid to. He either won't answer or not know anything about it."
"If he survived, I'm sure we will."
Bulma looked at him, surprised that he had attempted to comfort her. After a moment's hesitation, she pulled up the top cover and lay down next to him on top of the sheets. "What was it like, living with him?"
"Frieza? It sucked."
"Hmm. Do you regret anything you did?"
She tensed. "How could you not –"
"I survived, didn't I? Heedless rebellion against oppression does nothing. I bided my time and only struck when I felt ready." He paused. "You need to get used to the fact that Saiyans kill for pleasure."
Bulma was quiet. "I don't think so."
"What makes you think I'm wrong?"
"You haven't killed me yet."
Vegeta opened his mouth, then growled at her. "I would, but then your foolish parents wouldn't do anything for me."
"Mmhmm," Bulma murmured, disbelieving. She paused a minute, then sighed tiredly. "I've almost died so many times already. And I know it's nothing compared to what Goku or the others or you have ever gone through, but…I want to be normal, you know? I want to be able to live in peaceful times and not have to call it a "time of peace" like it's such a finite thing."
"Peace is always finite," Vegeta said gruffly, staring at the ceiling. "Peace is a delusion."
Bulma bit her lip. "It was a nice delusion."
Vegeta hadn't had such delusions since he was five years old, and so he couldn't comment on such a statement. Bulma, realizing this and feeling quite insensitive for having said so (and also realizing that she had just climbed into a very homicidal man's bed and yet to hear a complaint from said maniac) sat up and said, "Let's have breakfast."
Vegeta glanced at the clock, and found it to be a bit early to have breakfast, but he certainly wasn't about to complain about a chance to eat extra food. Bulma's food didn't have the natural taste that a cook of raw talent could bring like her mother, but she could cook things standardly well, and that was fine with him. At least she knew enough to put blueberries in his pancakes.
She laughed nervously without warning as she picked at the eggs on her plate. "Do you think he'd tell me if I asked while I was screaming and crying?"
"Not if he has any dignity left," Vegeta answered.
"You are a jerk," she said, and poked at her eggs again. Vegeta didn't answer. He had grown accustomed to her name calling. Bulma chewed on her fork, glancing at him and feeling awkward. After a moment, she said, "About this morning…"
"It's still morning. It's barely morning. What about it?"
"I mean when I went into your room."
"Ten minutes ago? Yes, I remember."
"I didn't mean to intrude –"
He shrugged. "It's your house."
She blinked and opened her mouth to object, but decided that his ego was big enough with him thinking of himself as a guest, and he certainly wasn't going to call it 'her house' again any time soon. Still, she wasn't quite sure that she was breaking up with Yamcha yet, and she definitely didn't want Vegeta thinking that she had been trying to sleep with him. "Well, yeah, but…your bed isn't mine."
He raised his brow at her, as though she'd said something silly. "I'm aware."
"I'm just saying that if you felt like I was intruding, I was only –"
"You're weak and you were frightened," he interrupted, a bit sternly. "It's only natural that you would come to one of the stronger persons in the house."
She blinked. "Oh."
He thought it was some natural thing! He believed her behavior was something instinctual and normal. She felt relieved, but also a little…disappointed? As though she'd been anticipating the conflict, like she'd been looking forward to convincing him that he was the least desirable thing she had ever laid eyes on.
What had she planned to say if he had thought that? What perfectly logical reasons could she have given him? Was there anything really, truly off-putting that she could say about his looks?
Bulma slipped another forkful of eggs into her mouth and chewed slowly as she mulled over this.
Unfortunately for the heiress, Vegeta was quite aware of the implications of what she had done. He, however, seeing as she hadn't climbed under the sheets or reeked of desire, had decided not to make a big deal of it. They were in danger, and they both knew it, and therefore he found it to be fairly acceptable, seeing as pack mates would have slept closely to one another during a purge.
The woman was more Saiyan-like than she realized, but he certainly wasn't willing to tell her that.
"We're gonna be okay, right?" she asked, interrupting his train of thought.
"Of course," he said confidently. "I've been training and I'm well past being enough to defeat Frieza."
Seemingly forgetting his bout of fearful rage from the night before, Bulma brightened and smiled at him a little bit. He decided that she was either delusional or absolutely terrible at detecting lies.
"Why are you already up?" Yamcha asked as he kissed her cheek good morning and headed for the fridge.
Bulma's hands tightened around the half empty cup of cold coffee that she'd made nearly an hour ago. "Couldn't sleep."
Everyone who'd come downstairs already had asked her the same question, except for Ouji, who looked at her once and then carried on as though nothing was unusual. Yamcha had slept late this morning (and who knows if he had actually been in his room sleeping last night) and was the last to come down for breakfast. Bunny, who had come down first to make breakfast, stole a glance at her daughter, who didn't appear to be terribly upset by this fact.
Bulma, paying her mother no heed, glanced at Vegeta, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms folded and staring out the kitchen window for quite some time. She was waiting for a cue from him, for any type of sign that he might back her up when she told the others, but the prince had yet to pay her any attention.
She signed, her shoulders, slumping, and asked loudly, "How close is he?"
Everyone glanced at her. "How close is who?" Yamcha asked, lifting his head from inside the refrigerator.
Vegeta's eyes never drifted from the window, and his posture didn't change. "He's not past the planet you call Mars."
Veji and Gitah looked at each other sharply, then at their elder. Ouji looked at Bulma, then at Vegeta, and sighed, chewing the inside of his lip.
"Who's not past Mars?" Gitah asked slowly. His voice matched Vegeta's now, and the tentative, underlying fear in his voice seemed dreadfully misplaced to Bulma.
Bulma lowered her head and squeezed her coffee mug again, and Vegeta answered, "Frieza."
Veji stood up so suddenly that his chair clattered to the floor.
Gitah's fist tightened under the table. "Did you know?" he gritted out at Ouji, his eyes sharp and furious.
"Of course I did," the eldest Saiyan answered. "I sensed him days ago."
Gitah's tail thrashed against his chair, and his dark eyes snapped to Bulma. "When did you know?"
"Vegeta and I found out last night," she answered softly, her chin lowered.
Yamcha, finding his voice again, swallowed thickly. "Last night?"
Bulma shot him a 'not now' look, and finally set her coffee mug on the table. "Obviously he's on his way here," she said, "But since Ouji is here I don't think we really have the need to panic. Vegeta's gotten a lot stronger too…all of you have. So we should be fine."
"He'll kill us," Veji whispered.
"No he won't," Bulma insisted.
But she was wrong, she was wrong because his elder selves had trained. They had trained non-stop for no particular reason and Veji had barely trained at all. "He's coming to kill me!" he nearly shrieked, his voice climbing in volume in his hysterics.
"Don't be stupid," Vegeta barked. "This Frieza doesn't know you exist and most likely still believes I'm dead. Even if he doesn't, we all know he's coming here for Kakarot and nobody else." The last part was spat bitterly, jealously.
"Goku's not even here!" Yamcha snapped. "How is he even coming here at all?"
"Obviously he's alive, dipshit," Vegeta shot back. "Your precious Goku didn't do his damn job." Even though I begged him to.
"But Namek blew up with him on it!"
"Well Namek clearly wasn't enough!" Vegeta yelled. The kitchen fell silent.
Dr. Briefs, who had been quietly observing all the chaos, blinked at Vegeta's outburst. The old man cleared his throat and set down his newspaper. "Alright, my boy, let's calm down a bit –"
"I don't want to be calm!" Vegeta snapped. "I'm not calm and I won't be for as long as I damn well please." With this, he stormed out of the kitchen angrily, his muscles coiled with pent up energy.
Bulma attempted to lift her cup to her lips, but her hands shook, so she set it down. Her heel tapped quickly on the floor a few times, nervously. After a moment, she stood up and rushed out of the kitchen, ruffling Gitah and Veji's hair as she went.
"Now where do you suppose those two are off to?" Bunny asked, her voice still chipper.
Dr. Briefs lit his cigarette. "Your guess is as good as mine, dear," he said, unfolding his newspaper again.
Yamcha frowned deeply, for more than one reason. "I guess I better call the others," he said solemnly.
Gitah's fingers tapped the table in a quick, impatient rhythm, his eyes burning with a youthful thirst for conflict. Veji picked up his chair and sat back down at Bunny's request, still terrified, and Ouji ate his breakfast, watching them all.
"Vegeta, please wait," Bulma called, jogging after him.
"Leave me alone," he snarled, and kept walking.
"Stop being so cold! I get that you're scared – "
He stopped and looked at her, his eyes so narrow and his jaw so fixed that it stopped her in her tracks. "I'm not scared," he said, and his voice was hard.
Bulma looked at the thin layers of emotion underneath his eyes and said quietly, "Yes, you are."
He blinked, surprised, but she couldn't tell if he was surprised at her audacity or the truth of her statement.
"He burned up your planet. He kept you for years like a…" the word 'pet' died on her tongue, and she swallowed. "He sent you on horrible missions and he killed you. Anybody with half a brain would be at least a little scared. If you could bring back any person who had ever been killed, they'd never want to see their killer again. So it's okay if you're scared. We're all scared."
Vegeta's shoulders heaved with his breathing, and he gritted his teeth. "Don't lump me in with you pathetic humans."
Bulma sighed and rubbed her arms, knowing her words wouldn't get to him. "How close?" she asked quietly.
Vegeta looked at the tiny little woman that confused him so often and so thoroughly with tired, defeated eyes. "He'll be here by noon."
He could see the glint in the sky.
Veji's skin prickled with goosebumps the moment he caught sight of the ship. It was still quite a ways from landing, but it would be soon, no longer than 15 minutes. The glare of the sun that shined against the sleek metal of Frieza's ship was enough to send shivers down his spine. He didn't want to die.
In the past few hours, he'd calmed himself, and kicked himself for acting like a coward. He had let his fear show, and he was extremely displeased with himself. He'd never live this down, not in a million years…if they survived.
Saiyans didn't panic. Saiyan princes sure as hell didn't panic.
He was becoming too human.
He slipped his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he stole glances at his elders, who seemed to pay him no heed. Each of them appeared to be lost in their own thoughts, their features occupied with furrowed brows and gritted teeth. Gitah's tail thrashed angrily, and the tall youth cracked his knuckles quietly.
Others weren't far behind them; the weakling had gathered his human friends, the ones that had been wished back before. Krillin, Tien Shinhan, Chiaotzu, Piccolo…he caught their names again as they talked among themselves. Gohan looked at him and smiled worriedly. Veji did not return it, but Gohan didn't seem fazed.
Vegeta glared at that same glint with hatred and disgust simmering in his chest, his arms folded and his feet set in a way that would have shown his superiority back home. His lip curled over his canine teeth as Ouji stepped up beside him, and in a hushed snarl, he said, "You should have warned us."
"I didn't know, so why should you?" Ouji replied.
"So we're all to get out of this alive, then?"
"I didn't say that."
His muscles coiled. "Are you going to stop him?"
"If I have to," Ouji said thoughtfully. "The timeline needs to be as similar as possible, you know. I'd like to keep some things the same."
"So you were just going to let your precious human worry about it for who knows how many hours without at least letting her know whether or not she'd be safe?"
"She wasn't supposed to find out until you announced it at lunch," Ouji said coolly, looking terribly amused. "Besides, what do you care?"
Vegeta suddenly looked flustered, although the look disappeared just as suddenly as it had come. "I don't," he snapped.
Vegeta almost choked him.
She didn't. She didn't. She did! And she brought the cat with her!
"Bulma!" Yamcha nearly shrieked as she landed the small aircraft she'd been flying and capsulated it. "What are you doing here?! It's too dangerous, you need to go home!"
"I tried to stop her, Yamcha-sama," Puar squeaked helplessly.
She waved a hand at him dismissively. "Look, if I'm going to die, then I want it to be interesting, and sitting in front of the TV at home is certainly not interesting. Besides, with all of you here, I'm sure at least one of you can protect me if need be."
"You're being ridiculous!"
Bulma put her hands on her hips and replied snappily, "I was on Namek for weeks and barely got a glimpse at Frieza. As I said, if I'm going to die, I at least had better have a front row seat."
Gitah glanced at her and looked slightly amused underneath his pissed off expression. Veji raised an eyebrow but gave no indication that he wasn't pleased to see her. Vegeta nearly snorted. She's got guts, I'll give her that.
"Feisty, isn't she?" Ouji murmured. The smirk fell from Vegeta's face.
"What do you think you're doing, woman?" Gitah called, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.
"Coming to see the fireworks, that's all," she said, falsely cheerful.
"You do realize you'll be killed, don't you?"
Her confident expression faltered for just a second. "Firstly, I doubt it. Secondly, everyone here has died before except for me and Gohan, so I think I'll be okay, all things considered."
Gitah shrugged. "Your funeral," he said, but he looked pleased with her.
"He's here," Vegeta snarled. A moment later, the enormous ship zoomed over their heads and landed ten miles away.
The group froze, as though the ship was a great predator that wouldn't spot them unless they moved. After nearly a minute of silence, Vegeta clenched his jaw and exhaled slowly. The muscles in his legs coiled, and he sprang into the air, landed a quarter mile away, and jumped again.
Ouji's brow twitched slightly, as though he was annoyed, although he quickly followed suit. "Keep your power levels down to the absolute minimum. Do not fly," he reminded them before taking off. The others glanced at each other, some swallowing nervously and others only tightening their fists. Yamcha wrapped his arm around Bulma's waist and jumped. Bulma felt as though she'd left her stomach behind when her feet left the ground.
Vegeta stopped suddenly and crouched behind a pile of fallen boulders near a tall pillar of stone, so similar to his first earthly battle that it nearly made his skin crawl. His dark eyes scanned the massive crater that had been crudely carved into the ground by Frieza's ship. The hair on his neck bristled when he saw it, and a snarl rose in his throat. Hearing Ouji approach, he suppressed it, and motioned for the others to be quiet when they landed.
Nearly a mile below them, the ship's door hissed and lowered, spilling out soldiers of various, ugly species, whose bodies were adorned with modifications of the Saiyan style armor and weapons that would enhance their ki. Still, most were at levels that Krillin at least could handle. What froze them in place, however, were the two massive powers that exited the ship a moment later.
The warriors held their breath.
"Let me see, let me see," Bulma whispered, and shoved her way to the front. She peeked over the rocks and quickly made a face. "That's him? He's so scrawny and ugly!"
Vegeta almost snickered. "He's uglier than he was, if you can believe that. He's half metal now."
"Mecha-Frieza," Bulma whispered, and laughed quietly at her own joke.
Gitah and Veji had turned white. "How is he that strong?" Gitah murmured, the fur of his tail bristling.
"You fools never heard of his fourth form?" Vegeta snapped.
"Yes, but -"
"Well it's not a myth so shut up about it."
"Quiet," Ouji commanded. Vegeta turned to tell him precisely where he could shove it, but hadn't gotten a word out before Frieza's scratchy voice caught his ears.
"Find any humans you can and destroy them all. I want this planet purged. One point for humans, 20 for Namekians, 50 for any half Saiyan brats... If you find any tall monkeys, tell him where to find me. Oh…and if you happen to see Vegeta...bring me his head, and you win."
The Saiyans snarled; ten of the soldiers present wouldn't have even been enough to challenge Veji.
"Be quiet," Bulma murmured. "Listen."
"Father, aren't you coming out?" Frieza called. "Come see this droll planet."
A massive purple figure with horns stepped out of the ship. Vegeta hissed at the sight of him.
"How dreary," King Kold said, his voice as slithery as Frieza's. "I can't remember the last time I've been on such a backwater planet."
"Now that's just rude," Bulma murmured, insulted.
"Yes, yes, I noticed," Frieza drawled, his red eyes scanning the horizon. "Soldiers, on with your mission."
"We have to stop them!" Tien hissed, starting to rise.
"Wait," Ouji ordered.
The triclops paused. "What is it now? They're going to start killing people!"
"Shut up and do what I tell you, unless you're eager for a second death."
Tien started to protest, but a strangled cry from the soldiers below cut him off. The fighters looked down, surprised, and saw a mangled heap of men, their colorful blood mixing in gorey entrails on the ground. Their bodies had been sliced open multiple times, and yet there had hardly been a sound of attack, and there was no large power level nearby besides Frieza and his father.
Vegeta's eyes narrowed. The attack was almost wickedly precise; the cuts too smooth, too clean. The attacker had a weapon, but surely someone who would be quick enough to kill them in such a short amount of time, and in such silence, wouldn't need a weapon to overtake them. Which meant…they were being toyed with.
Who on Earth would dare toy with Frieza?
"Well," Frieza said, his tone both bored and curious. "Who might you be?"
"Your finish line," a new voice answered. "This is as far as you go, Frieza."
A small smirk appeared on Ouji's face. Vegeta noticed, and looked farther over the crater sides, and saw a tall young man with violet hair standing below. A sword was strapped to his back, the scabbard speckled with blood.
"It appears we have a guest," Kold said, although his words didn't match his level of interest.
"I see," Frieza said dryly. "And I wish I had time to deal with him, I really do, but I don't. Footsoldier, take care of him."
"With pleasure, sir," a soldier answered, stepping forward and scanning the youth with his scouter. "Pfft, power level of five? You're real cute, kid. Say your prayers."
The young man didn't flinch.
The soldier frowned, and fired ki through the weapon attached to his forearm. The young man lifted his hand and flicked the attack easily over his shoulder, and it crashed against the rocky hills behind him.
The soldier gaped, fear creeping into his eyes, and fired five times more, only to have the attack deflected in the same manner. Explosions colored the horizon with dark grey smoke, and dust fell from the sky like snow. The youth's mouth curled up in a small, vicious smirk, and he brushed his bangs out of his eyes.
A second later, the soldier's body crashed into the ship and flopped to the ground, his skull smashed.
"Well…" Frieza murmured. "Seems the little dog has a little bark to go with his bite."
"Attack at will!" Another soldier yelled, and the entire crew changed. The youth drew his sword and ran to meet them. His body turned into a blur, and appeared again behind them. The soldiers froze as he slipped his sword back into it's holder, and fell in mangled heaps as the blade clicked into place.
Frieza looked amused. "I'm impressed."
"I'm not," said the youth, and his piercing blue eyes darted to the last soldier, who had been too paralyzed with fear to move once his armor and scouter had been cut to pieces. He backed away, closer to his masters, and Frieza's hand pierced his abdomen.
"Coward," Frieza hissed quietly as the soldier fell. His red eyes met the youth's, and a smile creeped over his purple lips. "It appears I'll have to get my hands dirty after all."
The young man brushed the bangs from his face again, and the disdainful look in his eyes were replaced with deep, icy loathing. "It's your turn, Frieza."
"My turn?" the tyrant drawled, almost lazily.
"Your turn to suffer like you've made others suffer. Your turn to feel the fear and pain of an untimely death." He paused, his hair shading his cheeks as the muscles in his shoulders nearly trembled with anticipation.
Your father died at the hands of the Androids, that's true...but his first death was by Frieza...and I don't think he ever forgot it, not for a second. He never spoke of it...but I always knew that he had nightmares about it. A few times he woke up screaming, and when he woke, he almost always checked to make sure the flesh over his heart was still there. Nearly every scar he had came from Frieza, and he never cared if you asked about any of them….except for that one. I've never wished death on a person besides the Androids, but Frieza….make sure he dies. If Son-kun doesn't kill him...make sure that bastard pays...make sure to give him hell.
Frieza said, "He who acquires his skills quickly, is he who is the first to perish."
"Enough games. You want a tip? Here's one: know your enemy. The assumptions you've made about me are going to cost you, Frieza. I won't have mercy on you like Goku did."
Frieza's entertained expression fell into a mixture of surprise and fury. "So you know that monkey, then?"
"By reputation." His voice lowered. "And I know of the Saiyan Prince as well."
Frieza hissed, the memory of seeing Vegeta's ghost on Namek burning in his mind. "Is that supposed to mean something, brat?"
The Ice-jin snorted, a bark of high, snarky laughter bursting from his mouth. "You carry a good bluff, kid, but knowing a thing or two about apes and killing some worthless soldiers is hardly enough to scare me."
"Then maybe a Super Saiyan will," the young man smirked devilishly, and Frieza's eyes widened. "And I don't mean Goku...I mean a real Super Saiyan."
Frieza laughed. "I don't think I've ever met anyone who laid it on quite as thick as you! Your petty threat's don't mean anything, boy. Don't think for a second that you...you...no, that's impossible…"
Purple hair rose from the youth's face, brightening to stark white before it warmed to gold. Bangs lifted like stage curtains to reveal solid teal eyes, and Frieza's blood turned cold.
"It's time you understood who I really am," said Trunks Briefs, and a familiar half-smirk played with his lips.
This chapter just about killed me but there. Trunks is here. All hail the Half Blood Prince.
So, I was gonna remake this scene entirely but honestly some of the canon likes are gold. At the same time some of them are really really bad so uh. Yeah.
Erm…I love you guys? Review please? Please don't kill me I'm sorry
Hopefully I'll be back with a new chapter soon, or at least an update to one of my other stories. Also, I got a t.u.m.b.l.r so if you guys wanna follow me, that'd be cool. Ask me questions. Love you.