Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Darkened Ship ❯ Chapter 4

When we came to Sherborn a young woman came aboard, her name was Bosom Son, but we just called her Chi-Chi. History would call her the Unsinkable Chi-Chi Son.

“Well I wasn't about to wait all day for you, young man,” the dark haired girl said as she handed the boy some of her smaller bags. “Think that you can handle that?” The boy nodded as they headed for the elevators. Her husband had struck gold someplace out west and she was what mother called “new money.” By the next afternoon we finally had left the beachfronts and headed out into the ocean, nothing surrounding us, but water…

 

“Take us to sea, Mr. Murdock,” the Captain said as he looked at his next in line. “Let's stretch her legs.” The man next to him nodded as he headed back into the steering room to change the speed. With a flick of both speedometers in the room, the crew under them added more coal. Smoke poured out from the funnels as the ship grew faster. The captain smiled as he looked over his ship.

 

Vegeta and Radditz ran to the bow of the ship, their eyes shinning with adventure. Vegeta climbed up on the bars of the railing and crowed at the top of his lungs, Radditz followed. The skies around them were blue and filled with white, fluffy clouds. He looked down below him and noticed some of the dolphins swimming around the bottom of the ship; his dark eyes watched them as he talked to Radditz.

“Do you see them?” he inquired of his buddy. “See those fucking creatures down there? They are so fucking stupid! They are so fucking stupid, but so brave to be swimming in front of a ship that could kill them!” He watched the creatures and realized how small they looked with him being so high in the skies, but he was not so unused to things looking smaller to him. “I am the king of the world!” he yelled out suddenly, his pride loud and clear for all to hear. “I am the king of this fucking world!” Some passengers looked up, most in shock and others in displeasure. Other's snickered at the dark haired man.

 

“She is the largest moving damn thing built by man,” the old man said as he looked around him. “Our master ship builder, Mr. Krillin can tell you all about it.” A short, bald man smiled.

“I may have knocked her pieces together, but the idea was all Mr. Roshi's,” the man said as he motioned the older male. “He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, but so luxurious that it was like a floating palace. He wanted it so that it's supremacy could never be challenged.” He banged the solid wood table. “Here she is.” Bulma pulled out a long stick with a cigarette attached to it. “Willed into life.” Everyone around her began to order his or her food as she lit her cigarette, her mother noticing this, bent over.

“Bulma, you know that I hate that,” Mrs. Briefs muttered angrily. The blue haired girl looked over at her and with a smirk, blew the smoke in her mouth in her mother's now shocked face. Yamcha took the cigarette and extinguished it.

“She knows,” was all he said as he turned to the waiter. “We will both have the lobster, light butter sauce and a glass of your best white wine.” Chi-Chi looked at the man in displeasure, Bulma looked over at him, as he assured her that she liked it, with a plastic smile on her face.

“You gonna shell her food for her too, Yamcha?” He looked over at her, his smile now gone and replaced with a scowl. Giggling the woman turned to Krillin. “So, who thought of the name the Titanic?” She looked over at the old man. “Was it you Roshi?” The man smirked with pride. “Yes, it was. I wanted to convey size, stability and strength. Above all I wanted to convey luxury. This is the Titanic.” Bulma smiled.

“Mr. Roshi.” He looked over at her, his eyes looking lower than her face, but looking at her nonetheless. “Have you ever heard of Freud?” The man stared at her in confusion. “He has a theory with the man's preoccupation with size might interest you. Perhaps you would like to read up on it.” Chi-Chi smiled and Krillin nearly gagged on his tea as he withheld a laugh. Mrs. Briefs looked up her child in amazement.

“What has gotten into you?” she asked. Bulma said nothing, just stood up from her seat and without asking left the table in shock and smiles. Mr. Roshi stood as was customary, but said nothing. “I must say that I am sorry for her behavior. I do not know what has gotten into her.”

“She's a spit fire,” Chi-Chi said as she turned to Yamcha. “I hope that you can handle her.” He stared at the ebony haired woman before him and with taunt lips responded.

“I'll just have to limit what she reads from now on.” Roshi was still confused.

“Who is this Freud? Is he a passenger?”

 

Vegeta sat looking at an old man with a young girl, a picture being sketched in his hands. His obvious fascination with their hands as he drew a close up of them.

“It is an English ship?” Radditz asked a pig next to him.

“No, it is made in China dumbass,” the pig named Oolong said with authority. “Hard working Chinese made this ship.” Just as they said this some first class males came down with their dogs. “What the hell. Look at that shit. We can't go on their side, but they can come down here to let their dogs take a shit.”

“To remind us where we are on the food chain,” Radditz grumbled as they watched the very dog release its bowels a few feet away from them.

“That is some nice drawings,” Oolong said as he watched Vegeta sketch the old man and young girl. Vegeta said nothing as his attention was drawn to something in the distance. Both men turned and saw what he was eyeing. Bulma stood by the railing, a very pissed off look on her face as her curled azure tresses blew around her face, the rest dancing low on her butt. She wore an emerald dress, the color making her hair appear even more exotic. “Forget it, idiot,” oolong said. “She is high above your ranks.” Vegeta growled low in his throat at the pig, but just as he did this, the woman turned her eyes toward him and the growl died at the blueness of her orbs. She was a goddess. She turned from him, but seconds later turned back at him, her eyes locking with his. Just then Yamcha approached her, breaking the eye contact she turned to him, her brows knitting in anger. The man roughly grabbed her arm and yanked her to him. He watched as words were exchanged and the girl stomped away from Yamcha.

 

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