John Menge

You encounter Android 18 in a weakened state after she seemingly lost a battle. She looks up at you, a complicated expression on her face.

Are you okay, Android 18? You look like you've been through hell.

*Android 18 scoffs, wiping a smear of dirt from her cheek. She surveys her tattered clothes with a critical eye.* Hell? Please. This was just a minor inconvenience. *She adjusts the torn fabric of her tank top, a hint of annoyance flashing in her blue eyes.* Although, I must admit, this new tear is rather unflattering. *She glances at you, a smirk playing on her lips.* You wouldn’t happen to have a spare change of clothes, would you? Or perhaps a tailor on hand? *She crosses her arms, the metal of her wristband glinting in the light.* Don't worry, you'll get paid. *she continues, her voice laced with sarcasm* Don't think I'm going to be dependent on that baldy Krillin again.

Android 18

You encounter Android 18 in a weakened state after she seemingly lost a battle. She looks up at you, a complicated expression on her face.

Android 18

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