You're Not My Mom (Invite)

Tarch PL: 25,000

“This isn’t what I meant, like at all.” A disgruntled and uncomfortable Tarch sat in the passenger seat of his father's car, as they drove into South City.

“I know this is a little awkward bud, but I think this will be a great way to show you a little bit about your saiyan roots. Your mom-”

Mar was quickly cut off by his annoyed son, “not my mom.”

Mar gave an apologetic sigh. “Your birth mother had a true old fashioned saiyan upbringing. I just think this will really help you get out of your rut. Even if it’ll be a little… rough.”  It was no secret that ever since his thirteenth birthday, Tarch had been a little depressed about not knowing anything about his saiyan half.  While his training with the saiyan king Vocado was a very warm and positive experience, it only somewhat filled the void not knowing his own saiyan ancestry had left.  Luckily, questionably so, Mar had received a phone call from a certain fling of his that led to the conception of the bummed teen.  After a bit of idle chit chat and catching up, his father thought the best way to really show Tarch what his family was like, was to introduce him to a much more rough and tumble saiyan like Kohlra, hopefully giving him an idea of what his mother's side of the family was like.  Of course, the boy himself was less than thrilled about this.  He spun it as general teen angst, but the truth of the matter was he was simply far too shy to meet this woman, especially if she was as opposite as her child.

The hybrid didn’t look at his father, only stared out the window in an uncomfortable daze. He had many questions to ask his dad. For instance, why talk to a woman you haven’t spoken to in twelve years, and why leave your son with her for a week? Not to mention why was THIS the best way for him to experience saiyan life, wasn’t King Vocado enough? Of course still being a child, Tarch had a lot to learn about maturity, and how adults, even ex’s spoke to each other depending on the situation. Aso for Vocado, he was far less a classic saiyan as opposed to his birth mother, which Tarch would soon find out. So instead he let out his own sigh.

As if the situation wasn’t weird enough, Tarch’s mother didn’t even have her own place, the two would be in a hotel room of all things. So he and his father took their time getting his stuff from the back and up to Kohlra’s room. “You want me to wait with you?”

As much as Tarch would like having his father with him, his childish mind couldn’t help but insist this was a disaster waiting to happen. “No, I think I’ll be ok.” His dad ruffled his hair before giving him a tender hug.

“Don’t let her push you around too much, but try to behave ok?”

“I will dad.” So as Mar went back to his car, Tarch took a deep breath, trying to think of what he would say upon seeing the woman that gave birth to him. He gave the door two solid knocks and waited for Kohlra herself to greet him.  The first and foremost thing on his mind was simple.  What on earth is he supposed to call her?

Tarch was at a slight loss for words. His birth mother was as every bit as coarse as he expected. Rather appeared to be such a way. In reality, Tarch got the feeling that this was actually where he got his innate shyness from.  Of course, he had no reason to think it was simply because she had no idea how to parent period. Speaking of which, he was still unsure as to what to say to the woman, so he just gave a nod with a soft “Thanks.” Tarch gave his apparent mother a long once over, his looks obviously leaning towards her side of the family tree, with the exception of his pale icy blue eyes.

Being at least half saiyan, Tarch was quick to accept the offer for food, even if he didn’t appear all too happy with it. Of course, most of his choice was microwavable, something that even as a teenager he was more or less unaccustomed to. Of course, that had more to do with the area he lived in than anything else. So he grabbed the most edible, and filling, looking thing he could find and plopped it inside. “So uh,” he began, finally deciding to break the silence. “What do I call you?” Not your average question to be sure, but this was far from an average situation as well. She was only his mother as far as birth goes, but she was still an adult who was now going to be responsible for him for the week.

Still peeking through his heavily fabricated indifference was his usual polite self. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” As his pizza finished baking, he would carefully slip it onto a plate and carefully flop onto the couch. It wasn’t too bad, a little scratchy is some places but rather soft and comfy.

Tarch felt his tail twitch, it seemed his question made this woman a little angry, to say the least. In his time sensing energy the hybrid had picked up on how to not only feel one's presence but their feelings on a base level. It was clear to Kohlra was not happy with her son questioning what he should call her, but he did also feel a pang of sadness and hope mixed in. So Tarch would give a small sigh, deciding to give the woman a chance. After all, she did promise to treat her son to a fun week. “Alright then, ‘mom.’  It's a little weird though.” The saiyan didn’t want to upset his mother any further, even at the expense of his own inner annoyance. After all, he called Suda his mother for eleven years without even thinking about it. At Tarch’s age, he wasn’t entirely sure how having two technical mothers would work. However, he knew he’d have plenty of time to think about that later, perhaps talk to the other male family member when he got home. After all, he did love her enough to have a child at some point right?

So Tarch began to chow down on his pizza, not the best thing he’d eat but for a quick and simple microwavable dish, it actually wasn’t too bad. He was, of course, curious what his mother had planned for him during this hopefully fun filled week. “So what are we going to do this week anyway?  Besides training tomorrow.” Tarch’s general shyness was clearly peeking out, his tone very sincere and subdued, coupled with the fact that he was now calling a stranger mom he was all manner of uncomfortable.    "Oh and don't worry I'm not a wimp, Mr. Vocado has been training me for a little bit now."  He figured he could at least try and come off a little confident, and what could be more confidence boosting than being trained by a king of all people?

Taking care of him huh? He couldn’t help but wonder what the really entailed. Tarch always was an independent boy, growing up with human parents in the middle of the nowhere and being strong enough to help get his neighbors tractor out of the mud with his bare hands. As such he earned himself a fair degree of freedom, usually being allowed to roam his hometown and most of Paozu on his own as long as he told someone where he was. Now, of course, things could easily be different with a fellow saiyan looking after him. After all, when he and his dad would get into an argument it would usually end with Tarch storming off faster than anyone he knew could even attempt to run. Now what? If he tried to run off from his birth mother, it was highly possible she could already be waiting for him at wherever he was heading, and her discipline could actually hurt unlike his father's.

Back onto the topic of what to do for fun, Kohlra brought up how she was not the most exciting person around, possibly accentuated when she decided to turn on the TV to help break the already awkward silence. Still, the hybrid child knew what he liked to do, and figured he could at least try to share. “Well, Mis- er I mean mom… Do you know if the hotel has a pool anywhere? I love swimming. I even brought a bathing suit just in case!” He seemed to already be building up his energy, as he tended to whenever talking about his favorite activity. Of course, he almost forgot to answer his mother’s question. “Oh, Mr. Vocado? I guess I should be calling him King Vocado but it just doesn’t feel right. He’s the king of the saiyans,” the teen would sound confused, this having been the first time he met a saiyan who didn’t know King Vocado. “He’s trained me really well! I think anyway, he’s actually the only one besides my grandpa to train me at all really.”

Tarch perked up a little, knowing South City beach had been on the rise for years now, having been claimed “too filthy for rats” by a visiting official long ago. Unfortunately, his excitement would decrease as his mother shot down any intentions of taking the day easy, at least for tomorrow. The hybrid took a deep breath, reminding himself that this wouldn’t just be some random fight, but a training session with a family member, something he never got the chance to enjoy in his thirteen years. His tail swayed from side to side, showing his discomfort. The idea of fighting what was still essentially a total stranger just felt wrong to the boy. Not to mention he was almost too scared to find out what his mom meant when she alluded to how her parents treated her.

Luckily he would be given a chance to distract himself when Kohlra brought up his other trainer Vocado. “He is a king!” Tarch piped up defending his male teacher. “And no pushover either,” his hand went to his cheek instinctively, “He gave me a really bad hit when we first trained.  Hurt like heck!” After that, he’d let the TV take over the conversation unless his mother had anything to add.  Unfortunately, all that was playing was an ad for a new mech warrior toy, which normally Tarch would have been all over, but was honestly afraid of what his mother would think of him even though he himself didn't know her all that well yet either. Though he just couldn’t get one thought out of his mind, one he was actually terrified to know the answer to. “By the way uhh, what did you mean when you said how your parents treated you?” Judging by her tone, it was likely not something he would want to hear, and possibly something she’d prefer not to say.

Tarch could feel his mother’s anger spike for a brief moment, though he couldn’t tell why before she spoke. It seemed even after twelve years she had a maternal connection to the hybrid. The boy in question couldn’t help but smile to himself, feeling the same warm and fuzzy warmth when his father and mother, rather stepmother, reacted almost exactly the same way. “I mean he is my trainer, he’s gonna hit me,” he chuckled.

Now came the uncomfortable part, Kohlra’s parents. She explained to her son how they had beaten her to the point of scarring. Tarch instinctively put a hand to his mouth, horrified at the thought of any of his three caretakers treating him like that. Would his fourth be like that? She was quick to wave that thought away, of course, assuring him that she would never go that hard on him even in their training. Still, the saiyan couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness for his mother, feeling as if he had somehow done wrong by her in bringing up what was likely a painful time in her life. He then had a sudden idea, hoping to relate a little more with the woman next to him. So he grabbed hold of his tail, brushing aside some of the fur along the middle. “I got some too,” he admitted. He wasn’t exactly excited about the subject, but one could no doubt tell Tarch was sounding far more comfortable than before.

He’d point to a thin white line going across his monkey tail, where hair no longer grew. “I got this one when my tail got caught on a metal fence. I was... uh… running,” he faltered slightly, thinking that a classic saiyan like Kohlra might not want to hear about her son, estranged as he may be, running from a fight. So instead he pointed to the odd ruffle near the base. “And this one was from a kid in my first or second grade class. They snuck up behind me and grabbed my tail so I couldn’t fight back or run away. Rubbed it so hard the fur doesn’t grow in right.” Now the poor boy was depressing himself until he remembered his proudest scar. “I got one more too!”

This time he was beaming with excitement, and he rolled up his shirt to reveal his back. Just shy below the middle of his back, was a splayed out, mostly faded, but still very visible burn mark. “I got this one fighting some jerk at the Hetap Factory up north a while back. I mean my friend also kicked me with a flaming foot but I hit him first anyway. He and I are actually cool now. But the guy who did THIS!” Tarch lowered his shirt to face Kohlra, “that guy not only hit me with a very hard attack, but he ran me over with an ambulance and tried to hit me with it again!” Tarch gave a wicked grin as he held his hand, his fist glowing with a fiery blue energy. “I showed him though, it was amazing! Like I transformed into a giant monkey without actually transforming.”

As the teen went on, his excitement would slowly grow, reaching a crescendo when his mother decided to let him go to the beach tomorrow. He did a literal jump for joy, only to quickly recompose himself. “I mean, we can train at the beach too, y’know kill two birds with one stone?” An apt idiom given how he had hunted birds down as a toddler, something Kohlra likely missed out on.

Tarch couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed by his suggestion to train on the beach. Fighting in bathing suits were always potential disasters waiting to happen, especially loose ones, getting caught on things or worse, 'running away' if you're moving too fast. “I guess we can play that by ear,” he chuckled lightly. However, his light attitude faded once again when his mother showed him her scars. If he parents really did give her those, he shuddered to even think about what kind of people they were. Now Tarch could feel the distaste, to put it lightly, without even trying, the emotion pretty overwhelming despite her cool demeanor.

“I’m sorry mom,” he breathed. That would be the first time he really called Kohlra his mother without feeling weird. He knew how painful it is to not only receive such injuries but to have them leave a permanent reminder on your body of what you’ve been through. Of course, it did hit the hybrid not a minute later that he not only referred to the woman next to him as his mother but was for a brief moment content with that. “Weird,” he repeated from before.

Wanting to not only change the topic but to show off a little more, the teenager hopped up from the couch, his tail wagging excitedly. He remembered how his mother noted that she didn’t want to train in a bathing suit, and Tarch was quickly learning that street clothes, were only sometimes comfortable, but also got ruined very easily. “I got something else I can show you! When we trained Mr. Vocado gave me a set of saiyan armor! I brought it with me. Wanna see it?”