Hello peoples!!! Ok, so for the contest I am
using the Greek myth I lovingly call the Abduction of Persephone to, I guess
you could say, ‘illustrate’ a romance between my fav DB couple, Bulma and
Vegeta. If you don’t know the myth, don’t worry, just read my story and you’ll
be fine. But just so you know, Hades and Persephone are the main characters in
the story, so it’s pretty obvious who’ll be playing them. I’ll be using the
names Vegeta and Bulma, so Vegeta is Hades and Bulma is Persephone. Get it? Got
it? Good. If there are some Greek names you see popping up, don’t panic,
they’re not that important unless a make a point to tell you who they relate to
in the DB world. Also, this will take place within the Greek mythological
universe, not the DB one. So there’s no Vegetasei or dragonballs or traveling
from planet to planet. Ok? Now, I’m not going to be totally loyal to the myth,
I’m placing many twists and turns in it, adding characters ect. Also, instead
of there being chapters, they’re books, hey that’s how Homer wrote his stories!
But I’m not saying every book will be as long as real book. Am I rambling?
Sorry… So I hope you like this little concoction I spoofed up!!
For
the Love of Death
A story for the romance of Vegeta
and Bulma
By: Flam-chan
………………………..
There go the loves that wither,
The old loves with wearier wings;
And all the dead years draw thither,
And all disastrous things;
Dead dreams of days forsaken,
Blind buds that snows have shaken,
Wild leaves that winds have taken,
Red strays of ruined springs.
………………………
From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives for ever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.
After death there is no annihilation. The dead are dead because they have a
flavorless and unhappy existence in the Underworld. Those who are practically
dead but exist and dwell in all happiness in the Isles of Blest or Elysium, are
called Immortals. So life and death are qualities of existence, not lack of it.
Between the world of the living and that of the dead there are, it is said,
great rivers and streams. As men and women die, Hermes leads their souls to the
Underworld, past the streams of Oceanus, past the White Rock Leucas, past the
Gates of the Sun and the Land of Dreams, until they reach the Asphodel Fields,
where the spirits dwell living the flavorless existence of a shadow or phantom.
This is not a place of punishment, but there is not pleasure and the mind is
confused and oblivious.
This is where you reach the gates of Hades, vastly protected by beasts of
many stature. And here you begin your journey to Elysium and Tartarus. Several
categories of souls appear in this neutral zone or Limbo, which could be the
same as the Asphodel Fields. Children are by themselves, and so are those who
have been condemned to death on a false charge and those who killed themselves.
Next comes the Vale of Mourning where those who were consumed by unhappy love
dwell, and in the farthest fields, before the dividing road, are those who were
famous in war. Some say that the soul receives judgment in the meadow at the
dividing of the road, whence are the two ways leading, one to the Isles of the
Blest (Elysium), and the other to Tartarus. Rhadamanthys, who rules in
Tartarus, is sometimes said to be the one that, with severe rule, tries and
chastises wrongdoers and forces confessions; then Tisiphone, who guards the entrance
wrapped in a bloodstained robe, pounces upon the guilty and lashes and
threatens them holding angry snakes in her left hand. The Erinyes are detectors
and avengers of crime and wickedness, avenging spirits, goddesses of vengeance,
ready to stab fear into the hearts of mortals.
Tartarus is the lowest abyss beneath the earth where all waters originate;
all rivers flow into the chasm of Tartarus and flow out of it again. Tartarus
is a gloomy place of far as distant from earth as earth is from the sky. Tartarus
and the Underworld are the realm of Erebus, which is pure darkness. Tartarus is
also a place of punishment. Round it runs a fence of bronze, and night spreads
in triple line about it. And around this wall rises up the flames and crashing
rocks of Pyriphlegethon. And an enormous portal as its entrance has pillars of
solid adamant that not even the gods could break. Within that portal is where
the punished lay doomed to dwell. Among those punished in Tartarus are also
those who in life hated their own brothers, those who struck their parents,
those who loving fraud entangled their clients, those who kept their wealth for
themselves without ever sharing (these are the majority), those who killed for
adultery, those engaged in treason, those who corrupted the laws and became
dictators, those who entered the beds of their daughters, and others who
committed numerous crimes which would never cease to fill an unending
catalogue; but equally unending are the punishments and retributions inflicted
here: rolling huge rocks, whirling round, sitting in the Chair of Oblivion are
just a few examples. The most wicked and the worst criminals are cast into
Tartarus, whence they never emerge. Others, who have committed great wrongs but
who nevertheless are curable, are thrown into Tartarus where they remain for
some time until the waves, either of Cocytus or of Pyriphlegethon cast them out
again. They then are carried by the currents to the
The right-hand leads, under the
Vegeta is the ruler of the Underworld. He is a brother of Kakarott(Zeus) and
Nappa (Poseidon), and therefore from the first generation of Olympian gods. And
the manner in which Vegeta became the lord of the shadowy Underworld is worth
mentioning.
The three sons of Cronos(a titan, know as Saturn in Roman Mythology) and
Rhea - Kakarott, Nappa, and Vegeta - each drew lots to determine which part of
the world they would rule. Kakarott and Nappa received the sky and the seas
respectively, and Vegeta was therefore left with the Underworld.
Vegeta ruled the realm of the dead alone. That is, until he became enamored
of the beautiful goddess Bulma.
And this is where I begin my story.
Book I: Where to Begin?
The great dictator of the eternally feared Underworld sat upon his stone
cold and unmoving throne in resentment as he watched each soul that came through
his gates quiver and cry in oblivion as they entered. Clasping a hold of his
silver goblet filled to the brim with the bloodiest whine, he downed it in one
movement.
Placing it in front of his hard obsidian eyes he eyed the drawings that
circled it since it was crafted at the beginning of time. His siblings and
himself were drawn so carefully on the goblet that one may never think of using
it for nothing more than a decoration.
Oh!! How he loathed his brothers!!! Nappa, the controller of land and sea,
was a stubborn bastard with no respect for anyone other than himself. He even
went against Kakarott’s word from time to time in a manner that would make
Kakarott send the purest of souls to Tartarus to be kept there for all
eternity. He couldn’t blame Nappa, but he was stupid enough to do any such
thing. Why? Why did Kakarott become the god of gods after they successfully
destroyed the Titans, their parents included? Kakarott did not deserve such
stature, it was he who should rule all, not the half-wit his brother was.
Though he hated his brothers to no end, his sisters were another issue all
together. Chichi (Hera), his sister, the goddess of marriage, ended up being
Kakarott’s wife (I know incest, don’t kill me. I hate to break it to ya, but
the happens A LOT in Greek and Roman mythology. I just tell myself, hey their
gods, maybe it’s different for them, maybe they’re not really related.).
What an odd paring he had told himself many times since he caught the word of
their unitement. Luckily he was a full twenty days from the Olympian palace so
he’d never have to subject himself to his sister’s inexorable chatter and his
brothers unbelievable hoard of inanity (I’m not trying to bash Goku here, I
love him, but hey this is Vegeta who is talkin’ here.). Hestia, though, was a
sibling he could rely on more than any of the others and their constant lack of
understanding of the world that exists below their feet. She was the goddess of
hearth and never ever left the confines of the palace. Not only was she the most
honorable, in his outlook, but she was the wisest since she was the first-born.
How he’d adore hearing her beautiful voice again and be praised with tolerance
and knowledge. Then there was Demeter, the goddess of fertility; she had to be
the most domineering female he had ever encountered. Very protective of all
that she ruled. She made the harvests, asked the grass to grow, told the sun
Helios to shine during the day, and the moon Serene to emerge at night. How
he’d love to be able to see Helios and Serene again, the warmth of the mortal
day, and the intoxicating breezes of the mortal night. His attention was
brought back once again to the indignant thoughts of his brothers. How he
wished he could over power them, let alone every other god, goddess, and nymph.
He reviled to think of what Kakarott was doing at this moment. Probably
sleeping with another female, other than his wife (sorry G/C fans!! Zeus sleeps
with so many women!!). Kakarott never knew how good he had it and yet he
travels around the known world collecting anything alluring in his wake. Vegeta
could flawlessly remember, almost twenty years back, when his brother had slept
with and impregnated Demeter, how irate Chichi had been. He now wondered how
Demeter’s first and, mostly likely, only offspring had matured. He was told it
was a female, the goddess of spring and flower. What a beautiful site she must
be, probably looked upon adoringly by her father, and protectively by her
mother.
His three headed pet, Cerberus, started to nuzzle his center nose against
his master’s left hand. The unsightly hound had become worried when his master
had become silent for a period of time that lasted longer than any other
silenced time. His attention was once again brought back to his domain as he
eyed the toll taker Charon start to console a soul for his loss. It was obvious
the soul had lost a love when he died. Vegeta sneered at the raw emotion that
seemed to grow off of trees in the land of mortals. Such pathetic creatures
they were, the humans, tossing around such a treasure as love. Love, it was
something that never flowed in the Underworld, not even from the sweetest
honeys of a sapling in Elysium. How blind souls were when they died, forgetting
reality all together. But that was unavoidable; it was apart of being admitted
into Hades. Though he probably wouldn’t do it much, he would have liked to be
able to hold a reasonable conversation with a soul, but no he was damned to be
the only being aware of life down in the Underworld. Of course other beings and
gods seldom roamed Hades, but those half horse, half man creatures were not
much for conversation. Nor were judges of souls much to converse with, they
only enjoyed tormenting the shadows and phantoms that listlessly beg for mercy.
He knew it there and then, he was lonely, the ruler of the Underworld was
lonely. No being to understand him and his domain. He detested the bleak and
detached impression that flowed through his palace, the screams that flowed
along the river of death from Tartarus, and the sickening sweet laughter that
emanated from Elysium above his head. He needed company, someone to share his
life with, his passion with, his heart that no one understood or even cared to
try to understand; he needed a woman, a female with a heart so pure she’d fall
in love with Rhadamanthys.
Vegeta returned his gaze to the soul that was still in a downpour of
depression. Maybe this soul knew of real love, maybe he could tell him of pure
hearts worthy to be the Queen of the Underworld.
"Cerberus, tell Charon to direct that soul to my throne, and in his
original human form." Vegeta’s rarely used voice resonated throughout his
palace in a wave mixed with malevolence, resentment, and the power of a god.
The three-headed hound quickly rose to his feet and ran the long and far
distance to the crossing of the river that every soul had to travel before they
entered Hades.
Vegeta snapped his fingers and pointed to his goblet, wanting more whine. A
servant fervently refilled his cup with the sweet and aged whine.
This time, Vegeta let his senses drown in the taste of the whine slowly,
taking tiny sips of the tangy beverage. This was how he wished he could have a
woman. To do with what he pleased but exchange love and admiration at the same
time. He would find a suitable wife soon, his heart was sure of it. He would no
longer dwell in the oblivion of the Underworld, or savor the tiny peeks of
enjoyment so rarely experienced, he would have what he deserved; a woman he
could enjoy and love.