Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ God, The Devil And Vegeta ❯ The Guises Of Deities ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Hello all, and welcome to a rather unique fanfic. It's all about Vegeta's correspondence to God and Satan when he first arrives on Earth, and although it's loosely based on the show "God, The Devil And Bob", I can assure you, it's somewhat strange.

If you like it, I'll write more chapters, because I am really enjoying writing this fanfic.

Thank you for your time! ^_^

ThoughtPro


Picture the scene, if you will.


A Prince who has easily enough power to destroy the planet on which he currently resides - Earth. And I’m not talking about an impressive arsenal of nuclear firearms, nor some manner of strange and mysterious magical ability. Amazing as this Royal may have been, he was no more a Warlord than he was a Sorcerer.


No, all this man had was his bare fists. Albeit exceptionally powerful fists, but fists all the same.


You see, this Prince – well, he wasn’t exactly conventional, to say the least. Then again, he wasn’t Human either. He was, in actual fact, an alien. One of only two aliens that remained of his species.


Yes, I suppose one could call him an immigrant. An immigrant with two purposes in life. One was to become better than the aforementioned other alien. And the second was to annihilate the aforementioned other alien.


So, now we’ve established his distinct lack of social skills…


An extremely powerful alien, living on our humble little mud ball, whose vocabulary doesn’t contain anything other than the words: “Death”, “Destruction”, “Training”, and “Kakarott”, often in the same sentence…


… the perfect target for Satan, really. You know, that evil, demonic freak that’s supposed to live in the fiery pits of Hell, and intimidate people so much that they end up in rubber rooms in Asylums, forced to wear straightjackets from here to eternity.


Perhaps I should just get straight to the point. This Satan character – he’s real. And he wants the planet as a gigantic variation on a surrealist movement. By that, I mean that he desires nothing more than to use the Earth as a splatter of paint on the canvas of the Universe.


And this little, regal creature… well, he was just perfect for causing a little, good ol’ patented anarchy.


However, as we all know, acknowledge, accept and, in certain cases, detest – where evil can be found, good’s often not far behind.


This case was no exception to the rule. And who’s the only one that can stand up to the King of Darkness?


Why, the King of Light, of course.


Over in the blue corner, we have the deity that has adored millions for thousands of years, and the only man who can make people refrain from their desired Sunday morning lay-ins…


… God. Well, as I’m sure you can appreciate, the dude doesn’t want his creation being blown to smithereens by a migrant, however scarred their past may be. So, the only conceivable thing to would be to stop Lucifer in the only conceivable manner possible.


By advising the Prince against the Demon. Free will, unfortunately, reigns supreme in this example, so neither of the forces can change the Royal’s perspective through any method that isn’t advice. Shame, really – all-out war is an attractive prospect, yet, not at the expense of every Human life that currently occupied the planet.


So, these two, apparently fictional characters have made it their respective missions to annihilate and protect.


But that isn’t their only job.


You see, this Prince – his name being Vegeta – is somewhat confused. And, to boot, as though it wasn’t already bad enough that an emotional powerhouse who could render the world nothing more than a distant memory, this is the worse manner of confusion that it was physically possible to experience.


He was thoroughly bewildered over the inhabitant of the house he occupied.


Bulma, her name was. He just wasn’t sure about her at all. He respected her, that was undeniable… she was a technological genius, for one thing, who fixed and modified his Gravity Trainer at least once a week. And she always cooked for him, satisfying his insatiable appetite. The phrase “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” was never more true than when it was when applied to Vegeta, unless it was to his fellow alien, Kakarott, or Goku as his friends called him.


He had to admit though – while he wasn’t sure if he actually LOVED her, he definitely lusted after her. Yet, it wasn’t her doubtlessly shapely frame, nor beautiful face, that impressed him truly. It was those eyes. He could lose himself in the ocean-resembling blue of those retinas…


However, his pride was the overriding factor. His destiny, as written in the first book he had ever owned – a velvet-bound, crimson diary – was to become the most powerful warrior in the known Universe. It was a tough job, but, in his opinion, someone had to do it, and it might as well be him.


It wasn’t like there was anyone who could challenge him back home…


That would probably be due, he often ventured, to the fact that his homeworld no longer existed. Blown to streams of molten rock by his old arch-nemesis and master, Frieza.


This Bulma character, as the Devil had quickly figured out, was the key to winning Vegeta’s trust, and therefore, all his immense power. And, as God had also realised, she was the key to unlocking the good that he was fully aware resided within Vegeta.


And, it was with this thought securely in mind that Satan appeared to the Prince during his morning training session. Now, Vegeta, being accustomed to the evil being’s frequent visits, wasn’t stunned to see him – yet that fact didn’t prevent him from being hit with the training drone Bulma had fashioned for him.


“Is there no conceivable way for you to WARN me before you teleport in here?!” Vegeta snarled, lividly growling the voice command that would halt the energy-shooting machine.


“Don’t stop on my account,” Satan muttered bitterly, today disguised as a businessman, complete with briefcase and horn-rimmed spectacles. Both he and God always assumed a variety of personas in case they were noticed by any member of the public, which could lead to awkward questions. Neither of them particularly wanted to fall out of Vegeta’s favour.


“Can I help you?!” The Royal deadpanned, sensing out the individual’s ki to see which one of the supposed Myths was present. “Or did you just fancy watching my training session in order to seal some manner of probably useless deal?”


The deity tried exceptionally hard not to snarl, yet managed to fail spectacularly as his lip curled maliciously.


“I was simply addressing your feelings for Bulma Briefs, and offering you a way out of your situation, but if you want to speak to me with that little respect, then you can fu-”


That encapsulated Vegeta’s attention, who knew better than to ask how the Devil had known this fact; he wasn’t dubbed omniscient for nothing, after all.


“Proceed, Dev,” the Prince commented with interest, hopeful that the creature could clear up his emotional and sexual torment over the onna.


“Kill her.”


He should have known better than to expect a serious response, Vegeta acknowledged with regret.


“Kill her?” He repeated Lucifer’s words, his mouth drying considerably as he uttered the lexis with both disdain and distaste. “Gee, thanks for this overly generous offer, but all you’ve managed to convince me of is your lack of worth as a Psychologist.”


“It solves everything, does it not?” Satan enquired eagerly, his eyes dancing in eternal, basking darkness. “It rids you of all your emotional problems…”


“I’d no sooner murder her than I would commit incest,” Vegeta snapped, disgusted at the thought of raising a hand to Bulma.


“Thought your family were dead…”


“Just one of the many factors that proves my point,” Vegeta answered with a smirk.


“Your line of thought concerns me, Vegeta…”


“Stop being so damn facetious,” he snarled angrily, rapidly losing his temper. “Now, unless you have any other bright ideas – there’s a door there, use it.”


“Ever been told you’re a spoiled brat, Vegeta?”


“Many times,” Vegeta confessed shamelessly, a triumphant smile gracing his defined face. “And it wasn’t any less false back then that it is now – now, if you wouldn’t mind, I have an idiot to surpass, and I won’t ever accomplish it by standing here all day.”


“Smug son of a-"


“And damn proud of it – now sod off!”


“Doors are trivial,” Satan snarled to the Royal’s prior comment, teleporting out in a flash of jet fire.


“Good for doors,” Vegeta muttered sarcastically to himself, blasting the briefcase that he’d accidentally left behind in a frenzied fit of rage.


“Chikkuyu,” he called, his voice resounding around the training facility as he uttered the voice recognition system password.


“Access grant-“


The system’s dull and mechanical tone stopped abruptly, leaving Vegeta infuriated and puzzled. However, his confusion was soon cleared up as a shaft of light appeared on one side of the arc of the Gravity Trainer’s curved walls, and a woman with shoulder-length, brunette hair and a classic jeans and T-shirt combination stepped out of the column.


“I wonder what Catholics would say if they knew God was a transvestite,” the Prince queried gently, mocking the icon’s appearance.


“How witty,” he murmured with an edge of dry sarcasm. “To stick an assigned gender would be stereotypical, not to mention biased…”


“Hate to break it to you, Monsieur Delusion,” Vegeta pointed out, with a stab of apathy evident both in his expression and his mannerisms. “But I’m the only one who can see you, and your pride can’t possibly overshadow mine.”


“Point taken,” he replied sadly. “But, sometimes, female perspective really enlightens you to the ways of the world.”


Vegeta stared incredulously at him, deciding not to pass comment on the fact that he’d created Humans, so he evidently knew the way the minds of both sexes worked.


“What do you want, anyway?” The Prince demanded curtly, staring God down with a burning intensity.


“I just want to warn you against Satan’s latest plot,” God informed the extra-terrestrial, staring right back, mirroring Vegeta’s self-importance momentarily.


“Yes, I know of it,” the Royal responded tiredly, folding his arms and shooting God a superior look. “ He’s trying to get me to kill the woman.”


“That’s the best part of it, unfortunately,” God enlightened the Prince of the Saiyan race softly. “He wants to use her as a means for his own ends.”


“You means he wants to hurt her?” Vegeta asked, internally cursing the fact that he was bothered by this revelation.


“Yes, as a way to get you to, and I quote, ‘Bow down to my obvious superiority’. This is the latest in his long line of methods in which to manipulate you, Vegeta.”


“What about the free will rule?” The regal Saiyan questioned, detesting the urgency that was creeping into his vocalisations.


“He wouldn’t be physically or mentally injuring you, so there’s nothing illegal about it, sadly.”


“I wouldn’t be so sure of that…” Vegeta murmured to himself, his body starting to flood with panic, which he hurriedly shook off, berating his own sentimentality.


“I would, however, keep vigilant,” God warned, to which the Prince nodded his consent.


“Yeah, will do – thanks,” he muttered gratefully.


“Be wary, Vegeta – it may involve somewhat of a social sacrifice…” God said wryly, eyeing the Gravity Trainer with an air of abject disturbance.


“What’s THAT supposed to mean?” Vegeta demanded tersely, the idea of skipping training abhorrent to him.


“What I mean is, don’t train on Sunday,” the icon commented lightly.


“You want me to skip a whole DAY?!” Vegeta roared in total incredulity. "Why, might I enquire?!"


"Trust me, when the time arises, leaving the house won't cross your mind," God commented wryly, throwing Vegeta a stray wink.


Vegeta could but stare.


"And what's THAT meant to mean, exactly?" He snapped, terse in his vocals all of a sudden.


"You'll find out soon enough..."


"DAMN IT, YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THIS!" The Saiyan yelled in frustration, indignant in his resolve to discover exactly what God was talking about.


"Should I take that literally?"


Without waiting for an answer, the icon waved his feminine arm and strung Vegeta up by his wrists from the ceiling of the Gravity Trainer.


"WHAT THE FUCK?!" The Saiyan screeched lividly, instantly severing his roped bonds with a sickening ease, and rounding on God. "STOP BEING SO DAMN LITERAL!"


"Sorry," he muttered wryly, casting the Prince another wink as he disappeared in a beam of high-contrast illumination.


"PERHAPS YOU'LL LET ME TRAIN NOW, IF IT'S NOT TOO MUCH TO ASK!" Vegeta bellowed.


From the recesses of mind, he heard two thoroughly agitated voices shriek an emphatic "YES!" at him, and he sighed as he began the program again, hoping not to be interrupted again.