>>5637297“Something's off.” you reply to him, wondering why this village seems so hostile while the last several all seemed quite happy to see you all. So you drop the Dragon Balls you'd been carrying with telekinesis, leaving them all with Ubo as you walk towards the strongest in the village. You walk directly up to the man, standing before him while still holding your daughter. “Hey, you. What's your name?”
“Hmph.” the man replies, looking away from you and not addressing you. But that doesn't stop your daughter.
“Hey, 'scuse me. Is everythin' okay mister?” she asks, the man unable to keep up his stoic glare looking away from you. He meets her gaze, cold exterior cracking a bit. “What's wrong?”
“Your kind isn't welcome here. Leave, foreigner.” he says, frowning. “Go, before your kind cause any more problems.”
“What sort of problems are you all having?” you ask him, the Namekian glaring hatefully at you.
“C'mon, you can tell us.” Okira tells him. “We can help!”
“No, you can't.” he replies. “Last time your foreigners showed up, our elder was cursed by one of your kind. He's still suffering from what happened to him.”
“I can help him!” Okira says, reaching out to him. Almost by reflex the man takes her into his arms, your daughter looking at him with wide eyes. “Please, take me to him.”
The man looks confused, from her to you to Ubo and back, then looking around to the others. Who all look judgmentally towards him holding your daughter. He then sighs out, handing her back.
“Sorry, but you can't see him. He isn't taking gue-” he starts, when another voice calls out.
“Masuo, what are you doing?” a childs voice calls out, you all turning towards the central building. And see a kid, no taller than Okira herself stepping out. “Didn't you all throw these foreigners out yet?”
“Forgive me f-” he starts, your daughter leaping from his arms and flying over towards the kid. Immediately everyone else dashes forward, Okira stopping short and holding her hands out, clasped together.
“I can help.” your daughter says. “Big sis taught me a few things, I can help.” she says, then holds out one hand. “Please, let me help. Please?”
The young child looks to your daughter's offered hand then back to her face, looking her over in clear confusion. Trying to decide if they will accept your daughter's help. But she doesn't wait on his decision, her Stand slithering out from between her lips.
cont
