Subsisting The Requiem

The Leash To Harness Her Aggression

"Rameere," She hissed the given information that revealed her name, and with a swift arc, she tried to headbutt the male dangling the dominance over her head like a toy in a condescending mode. But, of course, her attempt had to falter in some way, Goku was to agile and spry for her; and with first, a simple sweep to avoid her lash out, he then snatched up the bundle of her charcoal locks in an inauspicious manner for Rameere, trumping her proficient style.

The amount of violent drive he was using to yank her head back, the dark of her roots shrieking in a vehement outcry, made her release a sharp, feminine yelp,

"Let go, damn it!" She barked in a hoarse tone, her speak extremely loud and aggravated, her sanity unraveling from its tightly woven ladder. Goku took this to be of a somewhat bad predicament, almost instantly clasping his great hand that once held her hair, over her mouth at first sign of her tone uprising. She spoke in a muffled manner behind the dome, dark eyes vast with a watery texture as they wavered to each male before her.

The four were tranquil on the matter of her restrained frame, despite that of the Prince, and the boy. The Prince seemed to enjoy her forced shrieks for help behind Goku's impressive agility and endurance for her temperament; while the boy seemed to watch in uneasiness, but appeared too skittish to call that out.

With her now free arms, she lifted her right to try and pry his fingers from their secure fold around her mouth, and with her left, she brutally jammed her elbow into his torso. But she felt the bone of her elbow only drive into curves of carved muscle, he had anticipated her resort of action, following after with nothing but a gentle, somewhat salacious chuckle, a smirk pulling back his lips,

"Rameere huh? Straight Saiyan. Couldn't deny it with that temper of yours." Goku purred, as if he was fond of her snappy remarks. With the stable clutch he had around her waist, and, as hard as she was breathing, he having the advantage of cutting off one of her main airways, when in this situation, that is what her respiratory system desperately craved; Rameere gave in. That was how it acted itself out then, the pass of their play. Attack, fight, submit.

She slumped in his grasp, stamping a foot against the ground in that of her loss, still in aggravation that she had failed. At this, Vegeta found a spot to wrestle himself into the situation, lashing out with a snide comment of counterfeit,

"Oh, what a shame, you've got the bitch angry, Kakarot." The Prince shifted slightly in his stance, bringing his arms up in a satisfactory cross against his chest. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the derogatory note, but when one word in his sentence, made her think. Kakarot. That name was Saiyan, without any doubts wrought in between. She stamped her foot again, bringing her head up to leer at Goku, or Kakarot, and made a strangled, plaintive sound behind his hand.

Slowly, and in heavy precaution, he brought it down, in which it now rested above her backside, ready to secure grip on her tail if she pulled anything. He had her locked by the waist, and her tail curled limply in defense in between her legs. Her mouth cracked open, and, as she was initiating to speak to Goku if he truly was of Saiyan origin, Vegeta found a final placement to interrupt,

"Look," He gestured to her tail, extending an index finger. At that, everyone glanced at her show of conspicuous fear, "She's terrified." He followed up his acidic speak with a predominant chuckle, dark eyes dancing in the midst of the pure evil of his black fire.

And this time, Rameere found a blind spot in her chance, that was so rare, she almost didn't see it. The Prince had ticked her off for the last time. She wasn't going to tolerate him incessantly mocking her. She was not scared, simply showing submission to the higher male, and even Vegeta couldn't respect that, sadly. She shot forward in an unspeakable and unrecordable velocity towards the derisive male, her temperamental hostility towards him stimulating her irritation.

She flew from Goku's hold, fingers outstretched to make the Prince's accumulated pride into complete disarray, she would beat him, show him who's become the more belligerent Saiyan.

Perhaps she had underestimated the strength and authority of each of the males.

Vegeta was completely unguarded when she tackled him, slamming his body down onto the ground. With an almost instant reaction, Vegeta forced her off, slamming her onto her back.

And here she felt like a child to a new training class, not knowing anyone. They all encircled her, towering over her in her small, yet, lean frame of 5'3", and she was down, against the ground on her back. Her dark irises were shot wide, innocent, and vindicate, being overpowered, something she hated, she couldn't stand it. She did something only when she felt in heavy threat; she bore the white of her fangs, showing she would attack if provoked. Vegeta shook his head, a corner of his mouth cocking upwards, the smirk portraying his indecency for the female,

"Animal." He snapped in a silent hiss, dark, sleek eyebrows arching to reveal the internal flash of his sadistic nature, in which he thought so highly of himself, down casting others, such as herself. She only glared, sitting up, upper lip rising to flaunt the white of her full set of teeth.

While she had thrown a leer back to the monolithic Namek, the one next to the Prince, the one with purple hair, brutally body slammed her, but did it in an adept and swift manner. He snatched her small hands right out from under her, pinning them above her head. In this position, he rested directly on top of her, both of her thin wrists rendered immobile by only one of his larger, tanned hands. He inclined his head, lavender locks cascading in front of his forehead,

"Well, my, didn't expect you to be this flimsy in our hold, Goku was right. You are feisty." With that, he lowers his head, frigid, yet ardent cerulean eyes narrowed; I knew the intent of his evoked actions, what he imparted on doing to designate me as his, that is, until Vegeta prevented that,

"Trunks!" He barked, and I took note of the designation for this male looming directly over me,

"What are you doing?! Get off of her!" Vegeta spoke as if he owned me, that I was his property, in that of his possession. I was sick of being thrown from one male's ownership to the next. And how thankful I was when Goku interrupted, breaking off the yelling,

"Hey, hey, settle." He commanded, everyone immediately quieting and watching him approach me, kneeling down into a squat as the black net of his irises found my own. He lifted a surprisingly tender hand to the back of my neck, running his fingers down along the short hairs in an evoking manner,

"Rameere," Goku spoke my name with a seductive curl, and I took note of Trunks shifting his placement on my waist, his hand tightening around my two, "You've got to knock off your aggression, I know that is hard for you; but we can't trust you until you do." He spoke in reassurance, like it was a simple thing that she had to do.

As comforting and arousing as Goku was, the inner Saiyaness of her heated blood made up her fiery temperament, and she just couldn't give in to his sensual speak, and she looked away, eyes fleeing like a school of fish, focusing on Trunk's chest to avoid gazes being locked,

"No."