T’charrl didn’t understand, he just couldn’t remember someone like that ever paying attention to him and if she actually did then he was just feeling like an idiot now. He didn’t like ignoring people so knowing he did just made him feel bad, but what was worse was him not knowing this person well enough to know if he actually had any feelings for her in return. Now that would be really crummy, having someone fancy you but you didn’t fancy them back. Letting out a groan he scratched at his head. “I don’t know them…so how can I know if I do actually have a little love in my life after all? It’s not fair on any one to be rejected…” he sighed, shaking his head slowly as he frowned. “I don’t see why they would, though! I’m skinny and I flake a lot! I look awful too and I have bad habits…I probably smell bad too. I don’t want people to just like me because I did something accidentally that was good but also bad like destroy part of the city…”

Looking to Nema with a frown he soon sighed heavily, already worried that people were going to point out the fact that he changed once again from what he was now. People always noticed when something was different about someone and this was definitely going to be one of those moments. He was worried he was going to end up scaring people off because he had a different state to this one, meaning if he did gain control over his forms like Nema said then he was going to have to default to this one anyway whenever he was on this planet. He was already feeling really confused over himself, but it would be pretty good to have that level of control without all the pain and feeling like he was going to die all the time. “I guess that’s good but…I don’t know. Shifting at will? I’ll scare people if I suddenly look normal again after they’ve finally started to notice me. I’m a little worried…” He knew that a lot of his worries were probably silly but he still carried them and didn’t know what to do with them. It was scary to have all of these problems all the time, being constantly judged by the public. Looking to Nema before shifting to the thought of food he slowly sat up again, tapping his claws together nervously. “I-I just didn’t want to start eating when nobody else was! I didn’t want to look impolite! I’m sorry…”

--

Viral didn’t know what he was supposed to be if that was the case. All he could do was fight and all he felt was the instinct to fight, he didn’t have any place among non-fighters in the universe. Aito was probably just trying to help him calm down about fighting in a rather poorly manner, instead making it sound as if he should drop his obsessions and just accept that he was a flawed creation with no place in the world. Growling lowly he clenched his fist, staring at Aito in fair concentrated anger when he made his attempts to change the subject. “Well I’m not telling you anything about that! She’ll move on like everyone else does! It’s none of your business…” he grunted in response, “Takeshi only does that because every other time when he tries to pick a fight with me it gets interrupted. He just wants to fight me and beat me as if it’s some sort of accomplishment he needs to tick off his list! Everybody has to beat me some time, it’s on everybody’s list it seems…” It was a combination of people seeing him as something that needed to be beaten and some sort of weird challenge because of what he was made to do, whatever that was since he was already being told he was only capable of fighting and not actually meant to accomplish anything from it. He wasn’t born like the rest of them, he was made to fulfil a job but he was failing at that, like a robot built for a purpose but was flawed and instead needed to be dismantled. Maybe that’s what the Saiyans were trying to do to him, so they could use his body as spare parts and once that was all done they could just use the flawed shell to do jobs for them until it was destroyed. It all made sense in the end, otherwise the Saiyans wouldn’t be telling him that he was obsolete and was better off destroyed. They had taken all they needed from him, he was no longer of use to anyone who was seen as a warrior. Rubbing his head slowly he let out a sigh, his claws scratching against the top of his head. “What am I supposed to be if not a warrior? What is the point…”