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This page, The KidVegeta Anthology/Hard as Diamonds, is property of KidVegeta. |
Hard as Diamonds is one of the earliest stories I worked on in Somewhere Between The Ocean and The Bottom of This Glass, and was the only one completely first-drafted in 2020 (Nam's Big Dive and The Shunko Onsen were the only other stories worked on to any degree in 2020). I came up with the idea for this one while watching the General Blue Saga of Dragon Ball. The original concept for it dealt with the Micro band and was remarkably similar to what ended up becoming Every Turtle Has His Day. I also wanted to have Roshi sell the diamond and use some of the money he gets to buy whores, but fail to get much of anything from them. These ideas were too disparate to be in one story. Once I split the stories, I made this one focus more on Roshi selling the diamond he gets from Bulma and had the other focus on micro band shenanigans.
The idea was to have Roshi try to order a hooker and fail after selling the diamond. I think I chose East City as the location because it's a fairly rare location to feature in fanons, and I didn't want Chi-Chi's Got Talent to be the only Earth-based story taking place in the eastern region of Earth. In general, I wanted to work with this scenario, so I didn't plan it out much beforehand. Beyond him selling the diamond and scrounging for hookers, there was nothing planned for this story, plotwise, before I sat down to do it. That is not true for any other story in the collection.
I began writing it on December 22, 2020. Progress was consistent but slow. It was finished on the evening of December 27th. I returned to it on August 17, 2021, the day after finalizing Nam's Big Dive, and did an edit of the first scene, as it wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time. The next day, I did a full edit over the entire story, and on the 19th, I did one more pass-through, finalizing it that day. Overall, this was a quickly-written story, both in the first and final drafts.
This one shouldn't take too long. Onto the endnotes then.
Story[]
“Felix is bringing the zeni now. I believe the agreed-upon amount was Ƶ7,950,000,000.”
“Yes, ma’am. Not a bad price for such a beauty, eh?”
It was difficult not to stare. To put it precisely, Roshi wanted nothing more than to bury his face in her tits. She was an older woman, mature and refined, with short auburn hair, and she had about her a certain air of grace. Her black-and-white outfit was standard business casual attire. Breast-wise, she was larger than most; they were fake, though he didn’t care. Her nose being aquiline and her chin’s impressive girth were more troublesome. He could work with that, though the lights would have to be off (or he could do her from behind).
“So, uh, heheh, seen any good movies lately?”
Like a bucket of ice water being thrown over his head, she studied him. He’d seen that look before. “With my job, I don’t really have time to go out, unfortunately.”
“Oh, heheheh.” Noticing him staring at her chest, she should have drawn herself back, covered her cleavage, or slapped him. Instead, she blushed, drew herself inwards, and played it coy. She was willing to play. This was a rare opportunity. It had been years since a woman had responded with anything other than disgust to his advances. “Do you and the girls get out much?” His fingers drummed against the table. Patience was, of all, the most difficult virtue.
“Excuse me…? The girls?”
“The twins. Oh mama, they’re looking healthy today!”
He reached out as the door opened. In strode Felix, a suitcase full of zeni in each hand. She recoiled, but said nothing. He made several trips. Every time he left the room, the awkwardness diminished the Turtle Hermit’s confidence.
With the last suitcase placed on the table, she rose to her feet. “Our transaction is complete. May I have the diamond, please?”
“Here ya go, honey,” he said, placing it on the table. “Now how about you and I go get drinks?”
Stony-faced, she pocketed the gem, clicked her tongue, and walked out. Dutifully, Felix followed. He didn’t understand. Why had she given him hope? That type of cold rejection had become easier to bear the older he had gotten, yet, he still couldn’t help but feel like a fool. He appreciated Bulma in times like these, even if she had been the one who had found that diamond in Pirate Cave.
Roshi had wired most of the money into his bank account. Since he was likely to spend all the zeni if he could, he had kept only Ƶ100,000 on him. That would be enough to have a little fun.
The first whore had charged Ƶ35,000 to show off her body. Thankfully, he had come with provisions of tissue paper. Her hooters were sagging, and her belly looked like lasagna, so he hadn’t paid for anything else. He didn’t regret taking a look, at least.
The next one charged close to Ƶ60,000 to spend an hour with him. For that price, she had to be good. Her name was Subi. She got off on parading about on any prone man who would pay her, walking over him as if he were the sidewalk, or better yet, a tuft of fresh-cut grass.
When Roshi asked for something more, she offered him her toes. He retched. There was nothing sexy about a foot, nothing that made the blood rush hot seeing toes wiggle about. The foot was not a sexual organ, nor would it ever be. What he wanted was the good stuff, what any self-respecting man would find attractive. She wouldn’t go that far. Only the feet would do, unless he wanted her to walk all over him in high heels. Roshi wasn’t into that, so he let her walk.
Night was settling in in a grey haze across East City, and so too were the nightwalkers.
A trio of them were camped out by a lamppost on Bunion Road, smoking like chimneys. He came whistling over, playing it cool. “Hey girls, nice night we’re having, heheheh, eh? Lookin’ full tonight!”
He cracked himself up. They sort of rolled their eyes, but when nobody slapped him, he knew he had a chance. They knew they were well-endowed, so maybe he should have expected that.
“Whatcha lookin’ for, hon?” the first one said in a raspy voice. She had bleach-blonde hair, the kind you’d find on a real estate agent, but she was about five years too old for a gig like that, and she didn’t wear half the make-up she should have to cover up the skank.
“Heheheh, why don’t I take you girls back to my place, and we can… get to know each other a little?”
“How much you got?” asked the second. She was thicker, though not beyond the realms of being saved, due to the size of her breasts.
“How much would it cost?”
“How much you got?”
Their feistiness gave him a rush. “Ƶ3000.”
The third one came sidling up. Her nose was so small, it almost looked like someone had cut half of it off. Her tits were nice and plump, though, which gave Roshi enough pause so as to consider her. “What’re you looking for, sweetie? You need a tuggie?”
He whispered his desires into her ear. The other girls didn’t need to hear.
“Nuh-uh, no way. Ƶ10,000 if you want that,” she snapped.
“How about Ƶ4000?”
She scoffed, wadding up some phlegm in her throat before spitting it onto the sidewalk. Inhaling her cigarette, she waved him away. “No way. Ƶ10,000, or get out of here.”
He drew himself up, scowling, narrowing his eyes, pulling his shoulders back, puffing out his chest. He tried every trick in the book. “Ƶ5000.”
When she didn’t respond, he shrugged and made a motion to walk off. As if she were being forced to go down on a homeless man, she called him back. Her protests were mild, he supposed, but it still made him feel like less of a man. Staring to the sky, he wondered where the moonlight had gone. Having never gotten this far before, Roshi didn’t know what to do next.
“You got a place to go?” she asked, her voice deepening.
“Let’s try that alley back there.”
She flashed him her fake teeth, pressing a finger to his lips. He sucked the tip, just a little. The other two were on their phones, blue light radiating up against their faces as their fingers clicked incessantly upon the touchscreens. Roshi and the girl went around the corner. There were some trash cans back there, some rat carcasses, and one or two tomcats feasting upon the innards of vermin. He went to squeeze, and for once in his life, the woman didn’t pull back, didn’t slap him, didn’t blush with fury and curse him out. She seemed to be into it. He squeezed and he squeezed and he squeezed, and his blood was flowing.
Roshi felt something poke him in the thigh. Looking down, he saw it. The whore was, indeed, well-endowed. She leaned in for a kiss just as he raised a hand to his beard, a useless gesture to hold back the vomit.
Endnotes[]
- The name of this story refers to the ending sequence, and of course, the diamond that Bulma canonically hid in her vagina.
- The original price for the diamond was going to be ~$13 million, but since I found a real diamond that was smaller and rougher that sold for ~$53 million, that price had to be bumped up.
- Writing for Roshi is fun, but he has only one focus. Unlike other POV characters, when he's lusting for someone, he will not think about anything else whatsoever. Thus, the room they are meeting in isn't described and is instead replaced by a long paragraph detailing Roshi's first impressions of her body.
- Roshi mistakes the woman's polite restraint for flirting. She was never into him and never led him on. His awareness drops significantly and he becomes uselessly hopeful when he gets lusting for a woman, so it's really sad to see, and a real joy to write about.
- Undoubtedly, Roshi came from the first whore, but I don't think it was a very good cum.
- Roshi and I are (as one would most likely never suspect) of the same mind when it comes to the foot fetish and the people who have it.
- Subi most certainly didn't want to have sex with Roshi because he's an old man. He would've had to pay a lot more to get with her in any meaningful way, but Roshi does not realize this.
- I'm guessing Roshi asked the girl for a blowjob + sex, but I could be wrong. Either way, he wasn't going to say it out loud.
- The moon is gone, and as far as I can remember, doesn't ever appear again in the collection. But seriously, the artificial lights will always reign supreme in the cities, particularly in this destitute, trash-strewn corner of East City, which symbolizes the vapidity of the urban lifestyle—a lifestyle that Roshi is not fit for. He's a fish out of water; he's a long way from home.
- Roshi gags, but does not actually throw up in Every Turtle Has His Day, as the situation, while foul, still involves a naked woman. Roshi is no joke when it comes to that shit. Now, when it comes to this scenario, there is a sort of final echoing parallel release that was not achieved in that earlier story, and this is only possible because the whore is male.
Roshi is always fun to work with, and having him in the scenario I came up with was pretty much like hitting the mother lode. This story is somewhat bare-bones, and it really does read like it was the first one I completed in the collection. Lots of stuff hadn't developed yet. Had this story been written later in the cycle, I might have added in a third scene of him returning to the island. Decent story overall.
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