Two Peas in a Pod (Celerous)

This was as far South as Celerous had ever been.

For almost all his his life, Celerous had spent his time on the farm. Every week he'd make a trip into East City, for all the odds and ends his family needed; things that couldn't be grown on a farm, like toiletries, household maintenance items, batteries, milk, and the like. And sometimes he'd take his time and drive around the city in Ma's old pick up truck, just to see the sights. Maybe stop for a movie, or a ball game. But Celerous was never gone for long, and he'd return to the farm before the night was up.

He'd certainly never been to Papaya Island before.

Oh Celerous had seen pictures of it, but actually being here was something else. He'd never experienced the tropical environment, seen the Budokai grounds, or had the opportunity to admire the beautiful blue sea. Not, at least, until now. Cel had always had a sense of wanderlust. From a young age, he'd been tempted by what lay beyond the farm, and beyond the Eastern Pastures. But his family and his sense of responsibility had made him stay put. Now though? Now he itched to get out, and explore the rest of what Earth had to offer, regardless of those things.

Today, though, he was here on business. Dion Haddock, a fellow Saiyan (though full-blooded, unlike Celerous himself), had made a business proposition. Or, rather, had made a proposition about a business proposition. With Ruby around, they hadn't exactly had the time to hash out the details. So they'd rescheduled for later. This time though, Celerous thought it was only fair if he made the trek. After all, Dion had already flown out to the farm, and seen their operation. So now it was his turn to see what this bar of Dion's looked like.

Celerous had to admit that is was a quaint little place, at least from the outside.

The young hybrid, dressed in his best green flannel and dark demin jeans, opened the door and stepped inside. He surveyed the place for a moment, admiring the neat layout and simplistic interior of the bar. Celerous wasn't well versed in bars, as he didn't drink, but Diono's seemed to be a well kept place. He'd seen many restaurants that looked worse, at the very least.

"You've got a good bar here, Dion," Celerous said, as he approached the man behind the counter, "nice and quaint, and you clearly take care of the place."

"It's not every day a business opportunity falls in my lap," Celerous found himself a stool at the bar, "so thanks for having me."

Celerous was curious why Dion was on such a time crunch, but he figured he could ask after their business was concluded. Maybe his fellow Saiyan was just running out of supplies or something. Regardless, it was nice to have some proper business. Usually he or Ma would spend hours crunching numbers and evaluating markets before the harvest, trying to figure out how to get the biggest bang for their buck. Rarely had they ever been approached by someone.

Dion slid a bottle down the bar toward him. Celerous grabbed it, and inspected it for a moment. Some good ole fashioned bourbon, the kind Gramps liked to drink. Cel had never been much of a drinker, but it would be rude to refuse. Plus... well, if he was going to supply the bar, he ought to experience what the bar offered, right? So he uncorked the bottle, and tipped it back for a swig. He felt the burn wash down his throat, the tell-tale sign of any type of whiskey, and set the bourbon back on the bar with a nod.

"I've never been much of a drinker," Cel confessed, "but that is some good bourbon. Really puts some hair on your chest."

Dion asked him a very sensible question: just what was it that they grew on the farm. Without Ruby here to demand a fight, or ruin his damn field, they could actually sit down and chat about the pertinent details of their partnership. And, hey, what better place to do that than in a quaint little bar? With some drinks and friendly chatter? That was how business should be handled, not in an office or behind a desk with a monotone, lifeless man in a suit.

Well, technically Dion was kind of in a suit, Cel supposed. But it was still different.

"Well, primarily we grow wheat and corn. Those are our biggest harvests. But we also plant cabbage, carrots, radishes, onions, potatoes, and tomatoes. And I'm working on fencing off a new section of the field, to probably plant some bell pepper," Celerous stroked his goatee, "but we only do vegetables. We don't have any fruit harvests, and we don't have livestock. Though, I have been looking into what it would take to start raising cattle. I can't make any promises that'll change soon, though. That's a whole 'nother ball park, and we'd have to hire on some ranch hands for that."

Running a ranch and a farm? Both of those individually were more than full time jobs. Celerous didn't think the three of them could manage adding livestock to the mix, but that didn't mean that he'd entirely ruled out the idea.

Dion was right on pretty much all accounts: his family, or rather Ma, was pretty great. Gramps was, well, a grumpy old man. Father had been... Cel sometimes struggled to remember. His dad had been a hard man, with high expectations, but Celerous was pretty sure he'd been good. Ma said so. Gramps didn't really speak on the subject, but then, it was hard for anyone to lose a son. Even a Saiyan warrior.

"Well, Ma is about as good as they come. I just try to live up to the example she sets."

His fellow Saiyan also had something to say about their shortage on farmhands. He was right, the Fark Homestead was a family business. Celerous couldn't ever remember a time when Ma had brought on any hired hands. Unless he himself counted. Dion was right: between him, Ma, and even Gramps when he occasionally helped, they hadn't ever really needed extra hands. They were, all three of them, downright super human. Or not even human in Gramps case. And halfway in his case. Still, there were limits to what they could do. Farming wasn't something you could rush. It took time, from tilling, to sewing, to growing, and finally harvesting.

"We manage on our own, it's true. But there's only so much two people can do. Gramps sometimes helps out, but honestly, it's better when he doesn't..." Cel trailed off before shaking his head, "pardon, I got off track. My point is that for us to do ranching work, well, we'd have to branch out of being just a family business."

Ma wasn't fond of that idea, and honestly, neither was Celerous. The Fark Homestead was just that: their home. They liked their privacy. Plus, Grandpa Spinch was not on this planet legally, Cel was pretty sure. Then there was the whole Accords thing, which Celerous hadn't yet registered for, and Ma and Gramps would definitely never willingly register for. Bringing hired hands onto the farm would just expose them.

"Regardless, this is all hypothetical. We don't have the resources to do that this season anyhow. Vegetables is the best I can do at the moment. I hope that won't be too much of an issue."

Dion had a bar to run, and Celerous understood that. If he needed to turn elsewhere, to a ranch that could handle his produce needs better than his family could, well then that would just be business. It'd be a shame, to lose out on a potential buyer, but one that Cel could sympathize with.

Too absorbed in his own story, Celerous didn't catch Dion's troubling features until the last second. By then, the look was so fleeting that Cel wondered if he'd imagined it. With how quickly his fellow Saiyan began to speak, he thought that maybe he had. But he'd keep an eye out, just in case. Maybe it wasn't his place to meddle in Dion's personal affairs, but people had to look out for one another, especially in these troubling times. And... well, lending a helping hand to others, in whatever way he could, was just what he did.

Dion talked a little bit about his own family. His uncle, who Celerous thought might share some similarities with Grandpa Spinch, and his siblings. As an only child, Cel couldn't really guess what it was like, growing up with a little brother and sister. He supposed that they differed in that way. Then there was something about his recent hiree, and then another thing about a girl. Whom he "liked." Celerous was curious about that, but he figured he'd let Dion finish talking before he interrupted. 

It suddenly became very clear to Celerous that Dion had taken more than just a few swigs from his bottle. Or he was, in his own words, a lightweight. Cel found himself smiling despite the situation. It may have just been the booze, but his fellow Saiyan seemed to think highly of him.

"You know, it's usually the bartender's job to cut people off, but I guess since that's you..." Celerous joked, before shaking his head, "regardless of whether you're drunk or not, your respect for me is mutual. Good folk are all around, if you look. But it's nice to meet someone with integrity. I reckon you could have tried to swindle us small time folk, and many people would have, but you've been straight with me anyhow. You have my appreciation for that."

It was weird, Celerous thought, that for the first time in his life, he was beginning to realize that he really didn't have any friends. He'd spent his whole life on the farm. That was all he'd really had, outside of Ma and Gramps. Now, suddenly, it felt like he was beginning to fill some kind of void in his chest. One he hadn't known existed until just now.

Twenty years old, and he was just now making his first real friend. That was oddly sad.

"So, who's this girl of yours? She sounds awfully important to you."

"I think we're both probably outside the norm when it comes to being typically Saiyan."

Celerous didn't say it, and probably wouldn't, but he didn't really see himself as Saiyan. Yeah, he was half. He'd even been born with a tail, though that'd been plucked out of his butt as an infant. His grandfather, more like a father to him than his actual father had ever gotten to be, was a full blooded Saiyan warrior, as stereotypical as it got. Yet, despite all of that, Ma had brought him up as an Earthling. He'd been born on Earth, raised like an Earthling, worked a farm like an Earthling...

His Saiyan blood was more like a fairy tale to him, than a physical, tangible, part of his being.

Dion was a little tight lipped when it came to this... paramour of his, but Celerous opted not to push the subject. If the man wasn't comfortable with talking about this particular topic, then Cel was happy to let it be. There were things that even he didn't like to talk about, after all. Far be it from Celerous to push a man out of his comfort zone.

"You'd be surprised," Celerous shook his head, "I... haven't really been off the farm much. I mean, I go into East City every weekend to run some errands, but socializing isn't something I do much. Outside of you... well, I don't really have friends."

It should have been a lonely admission, but he didn't feel isolated. He had Ma and Gramps, and really, they were all he'd ever needed. Was he opposed to meeting new people? No, not at all. But they weren't necessary to his happiness. He had a job, a purpose, family, and he got to spend every day out in the fresh air. Really, what more could he ask for?

"I gotta imagine you're much more popular than I am, running a bar and all that. People tend to like their bartender. Tip them too, as I understand."

A farm wasn't exactly the best place to hang out and chat, after all. Not when it was outside the city, in the middle of nowhere. But Diono's? That was in a high traffic town. Dion probably knew the locals of his home in a way Celerous wouldn't never understand. Sure, Cel knew their neighbors, but he didn't interact with them regularly. Not like Dion likely did.

Celerous wondered what a proud Saiyan warrior would think of the two of them: two country bumpkins, living mundane lives, and working average jobs. They were far from being gloryhounds bound by the desire to fight. Cel thought most Saiyan on Plant would probably scoff at them, and consider them weak. And perhaps they would be right. So far, his life had been pretty cushy and easy. Oh sure, the farm was hard work. Honest work. But he'd never had to fight for his life, or for his people. Had never fought in a war. Hell, outside of Ma and Pa, he'd never fought anyone at all.

Cel wondered how much of that was true for Dion. From what little the man had said, Celerous gleamed that the full blooded Saiyan's life was a little more tumultuous than his own. At least Cel was lucky enought to still have one of his parents around, plus his grandfather. They might have both been settled down on Earth, living Earthling lives, but that didn't mean that their experiences were comparable. 

"All things considered, I'm content with my lot in life," Celerous shrugged, not bothered by not comforming to a stereotype, "and you've got a pretty nice bar, and I hope, plenty of customers. So I think we're doing just fine."

Dion made another good point: the best friends were ones you were actually close to, and that meant that quality should come before quantity. Celerous thought that sounded just fine. He didn't need the whole population of Earth to like him. Just a small handful of people to call friends would do. And Dion could be counted among that number. Was the first of that number, really. So, though Celerous would always try to be friendly to anyone he'd meet, he resolved to keep his social circle small and tight knit.

If he could, that was.

Dion offered his hand, and Cel took it in another firm shake, "well I reckon that sounds fine to me. I'll mind your interests, and you mind mine. It'll be nice to have someone to rely on. So, you can rely on me."

Was he adding to his list of responsibilities? Yes. But so be it. You had to look out for others, regardless if they were your friend or not. It was, as Ma had taught him, simply the right thing to do. And Dion was good folk. Celerous could think of far worse people to make this kind of promise with.

Dion seemed to be downright elated, as Celerous shook his hand. Cel didn't quite understand why the bartender was so enthusiastic, but it was a nice thing to see. He certainly had nothing against jovial attitudes. Plus, now Cel had a friend. Though it was weird that he hadn't been able to really say that before, at least now he was in possession of something every other normal Earthling had: human connection. As far a friends went, well, Celerous could do a whole lot worse than Dion. At least Dion wasn't destroying his fields, or planting evil life draining trees in the dirt.

Celerous knew that he really ought to do something about that last one. Demon gods draining the lifeforce of the planet and surrounding creatures wasn't exactly something that he could tolerate. Or even that should be tolerated. Maybe, when the time came, Dion could help him out with that problem. They were, both of them, above the average when it came to power levels, right? Together, the two of them had to be able to deal with an evil tree that was actually just a wooden drinking straw piercing the planet.

Or, Celerous supposed, he could just leave that up to the authorites. Probably the smarter option, so long as the tree didn't find itself planted on his farm.

Dion placed another drink in front of him, and despite Cel's usual predisposition to avoid alcohol like the plague, he found himself grabbing the bottle. Dion held his own drink out, and proposed a toast, one that Celerous could get behind. New friends, and good friends, were a great thing to have in life. So the young farmer found himself smiling at his newfound buddy's words. Because, really, was there anything better to toast than that? Aside from good health, that was.

"To new found friends," Celerous clinked his bottle to Dion's, "and to us, two absolutely ordinary Saiyans among a cavalcade of warriors."

Even acknowledging himself as a Saiyan felt weird, but Celerous supposed he couldn't avoid the truth forever. His Saiyan blood wasn't just going to disappear because he didn't feel like a mighty alien warrior.

Celerous took a long drought of his bottle, before setting it back down and standing up from his seat. As much as he would have liked to stay and chat some more, he did have a farm to run back East. Ma would probably strangle him if he neglected his work. Plus, then they'd be broke come the harvest. Celerous rather liked being able to afford to live.

"Well, as much as I'd like to stay, I've got to run," Celerous pulled his wallet out, and left some zeni on the counter as a tip, "thanks for the drink, Dion. You'll hear from me soon, once Ma and I have the logistics of the harvest sorted out."

Celerous waved at his new friend, before departing from the bar.