Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Darkened Ship ❯ Chapter 9

 

 

Your days
You say they're way too long

 

“It wasn't just… It was everything!” Bulma said, her face red with anger. “It was them! It was their whole world and I was trapped in it like an insect in a glass jar!” Bulma took a few gasping breaths before rushing on. “I just had to get away. I just had to run and run. I couldn't understand where I was going or what I was going to do, but my heart drove me further from the suffocating room. Then I found myself at the back rail,” she said softly as she looked out at the ocean. “There was no more ship… Even the Titanic wasn't big enough for me to get away from them. All I saw then was the rushing, peaceful water. I just wanted to show them. The only words in my head were, they'll be sorry.”

“Uh huh. They'll be sorry, but of course you'll be dead.” Bulma lowers her head in shame.

“Oh, Kami, I am such an utter fool.”

 

And your nights
You can't sleep at all

 

“Was that one penguin one of them?”

“Penguin?” she asked in confusion before it hit her. “Oh, Yamcha! He is them.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Vegeta inquired. Bulma looked miserable for a moment.

“Worse I'm afraid.” Bulma shows him her engagement ring. The diamond is about the size of marble.

 

Hold on
And you're not sure what you're waiting for
But you don't want to no more

 

“Damn! Look at that thing! You would have just sunk to the bottom.” The laugh together as a passing steward scowls at Vegeta, who is clearly not a first class passenger, but the pair glare at him, scaring the man away. “So, you feel like you are stuck on a path that you can't seem to walking, mainly because you are marrying this guy.” She nods with enthusiasm.

“Yes, exactly!”

“So don't marry him.”

“If only it were that simple.”

“It is that simple,” he says with a scowl. Bulma looks forlorn, but angry all at once.

“Vegeta, don't judge it that quickly until you see the full picture of my world.”

“Well, I guess I will tonight.” They sit awkwardly for a moment before Bulma notices his sketchbook.

 

And you're not sure what you're looking for
But you don't want to no more

 

“What is that?” Vegeta shrugs.

“Just some sketches,” he responds. Bulma snatches them from him.

“May I?” She sits on a deck chair and opens the small book. In the book are sketches that are expressive of humanity. One is an old woman's fragile hands; a sleeping man is on the next page followed by a father and daughter on the railing looking out. The faces are incandescent and alive. His book is the celebration of the human form. “These are quite good, really, they are,” she says as she looks over some more, her expression one of awe.

“They didn't think to much of them in Paris,” he says just as some of the loose sketches fall out of his book and are taken by a sudden wind. Vegeta manages to catch two, but the rest are gone over the seas.

“Oh, Vegeta, I am so sorry,” she says as she jumps up to help, but he does not seem overly upset over the illustrations.

 

But we all bleed the same way as you do
And we all have the same things to go through

 

“I just seem to spew them out. Besides, they are not worth a damn, so fuck them,” he says as he tosses the ones in his hand into the wind. They sail off over the deck and into the sea. Bulma laughs, her happiness makes him smile. She turns her attention back to the book, turns a page and looks in shock for a moment.

“Well, Well…” she fades off. She has come across a series of nudes, all women in various poses. The languid beauty he has created mesmerizes her. His nudes are soulful, true, with expressive hands and eyes. They are almost uncomfortably intimate. She blushes and raises the book as a couple strolls by them.

“Were these drawn from life?”

“Yeah. That is one great thing about the women in Paris. Lots of them willing to take their clothes off.” She studies one drawing in particular, her blue eyes drawn to a girl posed half in sunlight and her bottom half in shadow. She lies on her side, her hands lie at her chin, one furled and one open like a flower, languid and graceful.

“You liked this woman. You used her in several of your drawings.”

“She had beautiful hands.” Bulma smiles.

“I think that you must have had a love affair with her…”

“No, no! Just liked her hands,” he says with a chuckle. She looks up from the drawings.

“You have a gift, Vegeta. You see people.”

“I see you.” There it is, that piercing gaze again. His dark orbs seem to see into her soul.

“And…?”

“You wouldn't have jumped.”

 

Hold on if you feel like letting go
Hold on it gets better than you know
Don't stop looking, you're one step closer

 

Reception Room

 

Mrs. Briefs is having tea with Samantha Rose Finch-Music, the Countess of Earl, a thirty-fifth English blue blood, when she sees someone coming quickly across the room. Her eyes darken and her in a low voice she gets her companion's attention.

“Don't look now, but that vulgar Chi-Chi Son is headed our way.” She motions to get up. “Get up, quickly before she sits with us.” Chi-Chi makes it in time to greet them, as they are rising from their wicker chairs.

“Hello girls, I was hoping to catch you at tea.” Mrs. Briefs feigns heartbreak at her words.

“We're awfully sorry that you missed it, but the Countess and I are off to take some air on the deck.” Chi-Chi smiles widely as she grabs Mrs. Briefs' shoulder.

“Great. I need to catch up on all the gossip.” The blonde haired lady grits her teeth, as the two refined ladies are drug off by the loud Chi-Chi.

 

At another table we find Roshi and Puar, the captain.

“So, you've not lit the last boilers?” Puar shakes her head.

“Iie, but we are making excellent time.” Roshi looks at him; obviously the older man is upset.

“Captain Puar, the press knows the size of Titanic, now let them see her speed too. We must give them something new to print. The maiden voyage must make headlines!” he growls impatiently.

“I prefer not to push the engines until they've been properly run in.”

“I leave it to you to decide what is best, but what a glorious way to end your last crossing if we get to New York on Tuesday. Retire with a bang, eh, Puar?” Puar looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding hesitantly.

 

Deck Walkway

 

Bulma and Vegeta walk together on the sparse decking, most of it occupied by people lounging as the afternoon sun lowers into the skies.

 

Don't stop searching; it's not over
Hold on

 

“You know, my dream has always to just pitch it all and become an artist. I want to live in a garret, poor but free!” she says excitingly, her voice girlish and dreamy. Vegeta laughs at her.

“You wouldn't last two days. There is absolutely no hot water and hardly ever any caviar.” Bulma's eyes darken as she turns on him, her anger obvious.

“Listen, mother fucker… I abhor caviar and I am so sick and tired of everyone patting me on my head like some hallucinatory child after they dismiss my dreams.” Vegeta crosses his arms across him.

“Sorry,” he says as he waves his arms in defense.

“Good. Vegeta, I know that there is something in me. I don't know what it is, whether I should be an artist, or, I don't know…” she says fading off. “A dancer, like Isadora Duncan…”

 

What are you looking for?
What are you waiting for?

 

She leaps forward, lands deftly and whirls like a dervish. Then her cerulean eyes land on something and her face lights up.

“…or a moving picture actress!” she cries as she takes his hand and runs, pulling him toward--

 

 

Daniel and Mary Marvin: Daniel is cranking the big wooden movie camera as she poses stiffly at the rail.

 

“You are sad. Sad, sad, sad,” he cries. “You've left your lover on the shore. You may never see him again. Try to be sadder, darling,” he encourages. Suddenly Bulma jumps into the picture and strikes a theatrical pose at the rail next to Mary. Mary bursts out laughing. Bulma pulls Vegeta into the picture and makes him pose with her. Daniel grins and starts yelling and gesturing to the threesome.

 

Do you know what you're doing to me?
Go ahead
What are you waiting for?

 

SERIES OF CUTS:

 

Bulma posing tragically at the rail, the back of her hand to her forehead.

 

Vegeta on a deck chair, pretending to be a Pasha, the two girls pantomiming fanning him like slave girls.

 

Vegeta, on his knees, pleading with his hands clasped while Bulma, standing, turns her head in bored disdain.

 

Bulma cranking the camera, while Daniel and Vegeta have a western shoot-out. Vegeta wins and leers into the lens, twirling an air mustache like Snidely Whiplash.

 

Hold on if you feel like letting go
Hold on it gets better than you know

Don't stop looking, you're one step closer
Don't stop searching, it's not over

Hold on if you feel like letting go
Hold on it gets better than you know
Hold on

 

Forgot one thing. I do not own any DBZ characters. I also do not own Titanic or it's phrases. This is just a fanfic that I thought up watching Titanic one day.