A Boy and His Dog
Rockin' the Cradle
It was very quiet within the capsule, with only the hum of machinery to fill the noiselessness. Systems and galaxies and other vague space structures passed by. Dust churned, stars grew slightly older, black holes wandered like they so often did, and Vegeta flipped a page in his book. He was returning from a routine purging mission and was simply trying to pass the time. He was impressed with the material he'd found and its complexity. Luckily, it was in a language very similar to one he'd already known, so translating it wasn't too difficult. Imaginary numbers. Why didn't he think about these more often? This was where some true fun took root. He chuckled at the minor pun, but then suddenly felt very self-conscious and silenced himself.
A voice like thick silence spoke to him, "What is amusing?"
"Nothing," Vegeta snapped, and likewise closed the book, "It was just...a stupid joke in my head."
"I would like to know what it was," said Neraknarog in a way that you felt that there was no choice. Either you told him, or he poked around in your head and found out on his own. Now most creatures thoughts are not easily readable unless the mind is willing or the mind is simple, but the dog gave a very strong impression that he could pick out whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. It was a very unsettling emotion, especially if you also got to feeling as if the dog knew that you knew.
Vegeta gave in with a sigh, "I was thinking how fun imaginary numbers are. Then I thought that these were a part of math where fun 'took root'. Get it? Root? Ha, ha?" The prince's laugh was flat and dead, much like unfresh road kill.
Neraknarog looked at him evenly, "You seemed to enjoy your laughter more the first time."
"Yeah, because the first time I didn't stop to think how retarded it was," Vegeta replied glumly. He tossed the book into the corner, now mad with it. He shouldn't waste his time with it anyways, he thought; he had better things to do. He could be training, but, then again, he was strong enough. Training didn't seem to give him much enjoyment, especially because he was under constant surveillance. It was all and good to show off, but he just didn't like that many pairs of eyes on him - mainly because he couldn't exactly see the reason why. Impressive as he may be, it still seemed unnecessary. Yes, fighting was fun, but who around there really appreciated it? No one fought for the fun of it.
Kincaid had been right: Freiza killed comedy. Not to mention he killed millions of people everyday (or was at least responsible for their sudden lack of vitality). He also killed the idea of an education. True, learning languages was a pain in the ass, and history was too muddled by the present to get a clear study of it, and many other courses were obsolete, but math never changed. Science never changed. Water was still hydrogen and oxygen mixed together, no matter where you went.
An errant thought ran through Vegeta's head, and it contained the answer to the whole idea. Knowledge was deadly, and those that had it were in positions of power. Freiza wanted knowledge to die. He wanted to murder comedy, education, and relaxation. He didn't want to rule people, he wanted to do strict business with them. Of course though, he wanted an army. A fearful, faithful army that could follow orders blindly.
Vegeta hated him for this reason. The gay-looking alien wanted to destroy people in the worst way. The prince knew what his fate was supposed to be, and he loathed Freiza for it. The iceling wanted him to become the essence of Saijin: a brutal, war-mongering, prideful, insensitive prick who was highly narcissistic and power hungry. If he could turn Vegeta into that, then - Hell - he'd have nothing to worry about.
The preteen was respected, and probably more than Freiza was. Soldiers followed leaders they feared so far, but a leader with respect they'd follow till they were decapitated and then some. It was a simple concept, really: Freiza wins Vegeta and therefore wins over his own men. This was why Freiza hated Vegeta.
Neraknarog jolted him out of his personal pity-party, "Your make a very odd expression when you are contemplating. One might call it 'funny', 'amusing', or 'humorous'."
Already feeling irritated, Vegeta shot back, "Oh yeah? And what would you call it?"
"A look of constipation," the dog answered honestly.
Vegeta pressed his lips together into a bleak, flat line. "I see," he finally said and made one "tutting" noise before he scowled out the window, "and why did you have to come with me on this mission again?" It was hard to ignore Neraknarog, but Vegeta was giving a half-hearted attempt even though he was trying to carry a conversation with him at the same time.
"You requested me to come along," the creature stated, staring intently at Vegeta's face. If eyes could bore holes, the prince's head would soon be disappearing into nothingness.
"Oh, did I?" the brunette mimicked Kincaid's airy "I don't give a fuck, leave me alone, and damnit I'm right even when I'm wrong" tone. His eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on something else. Look, a red giant, his mind pointed out, it's probably eating up the planets that orbited it - interesting, isn't it?
"Yes," the dog said, shifting his position so he loomed over the Saijin, "You said you'd enjoy my company."
"Oh, did I?" Vegeta was going for the broken record approach. Look, a brown dwarf, his mind pointed out, it's not something you see everyday.
"I daresay," Neraknarog's voice turned silken and smooth, "that you're not actually angry with me."
Look, his mind said, I give up, but I tried my best. Vegeta huffed and turned to the monster. He stared at the massive form that filled the capsule's inner cavity. "Hey," he responded defensively, "a little bit of anger is good for the heart."
"That may hold some truth," admitted the dog, "but too much will taint."
"I don't like philosophy," Vegeta grumbled, turning sullen again, "I like things laid out and simple. Things that you can't debate. Two plus two will always equal four. I like that."
"You mean you like security."
"It's the only thing that doesn't change in my life. That's all I ask for."
Vegeta kicked back for the rest of the ride and entertained himself with Neraknarog. They played "I Spy", "Animal, Vegetable, or Mineral", and then had a healthy discussion about the prince's new turn in life. Actually, Neraknarog spoke more and Vegeta basically sat back in confusion, staring up at into the non-eyes of his friend with astounding blankness and ignorance (which just so happened that naiveté and innocence followed directly behind this one). "You are changing," Neraknarog pointed out the obvious because it didn't seem so obvious to Vegeta.
The brunette tried to act like it was regardless of the truth, "Of course I am. I'm getting older every second. Always changing. Fact of life, that is. Change. It happens."
"Yes," the dog agreed, "You are getting older." If the Saijin didn't know any better, he'd say this murderous menace was hinting to something. Neraknarog paused, hoping that Vegeta would say something. When he didn't, he continued, "Things happen when you get older. Other changes."
"I get taller?" Vegeta said hopefully, brightly. The preteen had seen other people grow taller. It was something he believed would eventually happen to him.
"Yes," the dog said, slowly losing all hope for the "discussion". Shifting, it lied down across the machinery with a small sound. It wasn't sure where to begin, but it felt like it should do something. Vegeta was changing, and he wanted Vegeta to be comfortable. Pondering away for a few moments, the monster finally came to a decision, "Ask them about it." (Though he didn't define who they were, the them in question, Vegeta knew, was Syx, Niqu, Kincaid, and Bob.)
"About what?" Vegeta was still confused, "Me getting taller?" Neraknarog managed to nod. The prince took a breath and went to ask him a question when he found that the dog was gone. His eyes narrowed at the vacant space and he crossed his arms in irritation. He spoke out loud to himself, "I hate it when he does that."
Out of sheer boredom, the prince activated the transmitting stasis device, or as he called it, the sleep-causing thing. No need for euphemisms. He quickly drifted off as whatever it was kicked in. He had strange dreams.
He wore a suit. It wasn't a battle suit, it was a jacket and slacks combo kind of suit. Unlike the mold of a Saijin, the clothes fit him like a glove - a glove that perfectly fit him. It was black, but covered in something similar to binary code. It looked more like the Matrix, though, and it was green and everything. It was also blatantly obvious that he was taller. That, and he was singing. What the Hell?
"Thirteen, thirteen, lucky number thirteen./ No need to gamble, no need to dream. Lucky, lucky thirteen."
God, he hated having dreams like this. His mind asked his body to wake up to take him away from this crap. Sorry pal, some part of him replied, the sleep-causing thing, remember? Yeah, you put it on, the part reminded.
"Life's a film noir, so drink up your drink./ Twelve shots you miss, but not the thirteenth./ Never wear your heart on your sleeve, but trust in lucky, lucky thirteen."
Who was he singing to anyway?
"The control panel going beep, beep, beep. Oh lucky, lucky, lucky thirteen."
Say what?
"Vegeta, wake up." Hold on, he definitely didn't sing that. That was the familiar sound of someone not speaking. He willed his eyes to open, and he looked at Neraknarog groggily. "We have arrived," informed the dog. Vegeta yawned and stretched. Leaning forward, he reached through the yzaek and flipped a switch on the control panel. The beeping immediately stopped.
Neraknarog got up and walked away, leaving Vegeta to himself. The prince grumbled and crouched low, opening the capsule's hatch. Looking out onto the dock, he noted not only the high traffic/audience, but the decorations as well. Nappa and Radditz were waiting for him, both dressed in their best. Eyeing everything with suspicion, Vegeta approached very slowly. When he came to the other Saijins, he spoke softly, but enunciated clearly, "No details. Just tell me what's going on."
With a humble bow, Radditz replied, "Happy Birthday, Your Majesty. We are celebrating your thirteenth birthday and, consequently, your coming of manhood."
"Oh, really," said Vegeta.
"Sir, we have gotten you a fine gift," Radditz hoped to distract him, "Will you allow us to present it to you?"
The brunette looked up at the pathetic face of the third class and sighed. It was like kicking a sick puppy if he refused. Folding his arms, he stared into Radditz's eyes, "Very well." Smiling, the elder ran off into the crowd. Vegeta looked at Nappa who looked at Vegeta with uncertainty. Unable to stare at stupidity for long, the prince turned his gaze elsewhere. There certainly was a lot of people in the dock. Were these people he knew? Or was supposed to know?
Radditz returned, bowed, then stood sideways and announced, "ALL HAIL HER GRACE, PRINCESS YSABELLA THE FOURTH OF MOURIR." The crowd parted for a beautiful woman in an elegant, ornate dress. She had what some would call an olive complexion, and a heart-shaped face. Her hair was a burnt orange and a deep red, like a burgundy almost. Green eyes shone like emeralds beneath the mascara-filled eyelashes. She walked like the royalty that she was, carrying her large gown after her. It had plenty of girly things on it like pearls, lace, frills, and shit guys could care less about. "ALL HAIL HIS GRACE," Radditz finished the introduction, "PRINCE VEGETA THE FORTY-THIRD OF VEGETA."
Ysabella stopped short as she stared at the diminutive figure in front of her. Word of mouth said that Vegeta was not only a superb but vaguely unruly general, but also that he was..well..a man. With that thought embedded in her head, she hissed out in surprise, "A child!?" She gaped rather comically in confusion as the prince edged towards the other Saijins.
Putting his left hand up to the right side of his mouth, he not so quietly asked Radditz, "what's with the woman?" It was like trying to shout a whisper, it didn't conceal your voice, but rather just showed how obnoxious you were.
The older man shuffled a bit and began to sweat from being so nervous, "Your Highness, Ysabella is your bride."
"bride, huh? what's she do?" Vegeta asked, watching as the lady he was speaking about began to turn red.
"Sir?"
"i mean, what can she do that a man can't do?" he rephrased the question.
At this point, Ysabella was nearly turning purple, and she could not hold her tongue any longer, "I can hear you, you know!"
Vegeta ignored her, "does she cook or something?"
"I can hear you!!"
Vegeta kept on, "clean maybe?"
Radditz faked a smile and tried desperately not to make eye contact with Ysabella, "Your Majesty, may we speak in private for a moment?"
The brunette put his hand down and nodded, "Sure." Radditz lead him away from the crowd (and the fuming princess) to a small, secluded location nearby. After making sure that they had not been followed, Radditz looked down at his liege and sighed.
"Ysabella can cook and clean."
"A lot of good that does me in prison," retaliated Vegeta.
"About that.." the third class began, watching as the prince raised an eyebrow, "You won't have to stay in a cell anymore. In fact..uh..you get a suite."
"Wait, wait, wait!" Vegeta put both his hands out in the stop gesture. His eyes were a bit wider than normal, and you could almost sense the gears turning inside his head. He pointed at the third class and voiced his thoughts, "You're telling me that I get a suite where I can come and go as I please? That I'll have someone who will cook me anything I want whenever I want, and clean up after me? Am I right?" Radditz hesitated, not knowing where this was going, but he eventually nodded. "Well, Hell!" Vegeta threw his arms up, grinning, "Why didn't I get married earlier!?" Radditz couldn't help it - he laughed.
Neraknarog merely watched and waited.
Rockin' the Cradle
It was very quiet within the capsule, with only the hum of machinery to fill the noiselessness. Systems and galaxies and other vague space structures passed by. Dust churned, stars grew slightly older, black holes wandered like they so often did, and Vegeta flipped a page in his book. He was returning from a routine purging mission and was simply trying to pass the time. He was impressed with the material he'd found and its complexity. Luckily, it was in a language very similar to one he'd already known, so translating it wasn't too difficult. Imaginary numbers. Why didn't he think about these more often? This was where some true fun took root. He chuckled at the minor pun, but then suddenly felt very self-conscious and silenced himself.
A voice like thick silence spoke to him, "What is amusing?"
"Nothing," Vegeta snapped, and likewise closed the book, "It was just...a stupid joke in my head."
"I would like to know what it was," said Neraknarog in a way that you felt that there was no choice. Either you told him, or he poked around in your head and found out on his own. Now most creatures thoughts are not easily readable unless the mind is willing or the mind is simple, but the dog gave a very strong impression that he could pick out whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. It was a very unsettling emotion, especially if you also got to feeling as if the dog knew that you knew.
Vegeta gave in with a sigh, "I was thinking how fun imaginary numbers are. Then I thought that these were a part of math where fun 'took root'. Get it? Root? Ha, ha?" The prince's laugh was flat and dead, much like unfresh road kill.
Neraknarog looked at him evenly, "You seemed to enjoy your laughter more the first time."
"Yeah, because the first time I didn't stop to think how retarded it was," Vegeta replied glumly. He tossed the book into the corner, now mad with it. He shouldn't waste his time with it anyways, he thought; he had better things to do. He could be training, but, then again, he was strong enough. Training didn't seem to give him much enjoyment, especially because he was under constant surveillance. It was all and good to show off, but he just didn't like that many pairs of eyes on him - mainly because he couldn't exactly see the reason why. Impressive as he may be, it still seemed unnecessary. Yes, fighting was fun, but who around there really appreciated it? No one fought for the fun of it.
Kincaid had been right: Freiza killed comedy. Not to mention he killed millions of people everyday (or was at least responsible for their sudden lack of vitality). He also killed the idea of an education. True, learning languages was a pain in the ass, and history was too muddled by the present to get a clear study of it, and many other courses were obsolete, but math never changed. Science never changed. Water was still hydrogen and oxygen mixed together, no matter where you went.
An errant thought ran through Vegeta's head, and it contained the answer to the whole idea. Knowledge was deadly, and those that had it were in positions of power. Freiza wanted knowledge to die. He wanted to murder comedy, education, and relaxation. He didn't want to rule people, he wanted to do strict business with them. Of course though, he wanted an army. A fearful, faithful army that could follow orders blindly.
Vegeta hated him for this reason. The gay-looking alien wanted to destroy people in the worst way. The prince knew what his fate was supposed to be, and he loathed Freiza for it. The iceling wanted him to become the essence of Saijin: a brutal, war-mongering, prideful, insensitive prick who was highly narcissistic and power hungry. If he could turn Vegeta into that, then - Hell - he'd have nothing to worry about.
The preteen was respected, and probably more than Freiza was. Soldiers followed leaders they feared so far, but a leader with respect they'd follow till they were decapitated and then some. It was a simple concept, really: Freiza wins Vegeta and therefore wins over his own men. This was why Freiza hated Vegeta.
Neraknarog jolted him out of his personal pity-party, "Your make a very odd expression when you are contemplating. One might call it 'funny', 'amusing', or 'humorous'."
Already feeling irritated, Vegeta shot back, "Oh yeah? And what would you call it?"
"A look of constipation," the dog answered honestly.
Vegeta pressed his lips together into a bleak, flat line. "I see," he finally said and made one "tutting" noise before he scowled out the window, "and why did you have to come with me on this mission again?" It was hard to ignore Neraknarog, but Vegeta was giving a half-hearted attempt even though he was trying to carry a conversation with him at the same time.
"You requested me to come along," the creature stated, staring intently at Vegeta's face. If eyes could bore holes, the prince's head would soon be disappearing into nothingness.
"Oh, did I?" the brunette mimicked Kincaid's airy "I don't give a fuck, leave me alone, and damnit I'm right even when I'm wrong" tone. His eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on something else. Look, a red giant, his mind pointed out, it's probably eating up the planets that orbited it - interesting, isn't it?
"Yes," the dog said, shifting his position so he loomed over the Saijin, "You said you'd enjoy my company."
"Oh, did I?" Vegeta was going for the broken record approach. Look, a brown dwarf, his mind pointed out, it's not something you see everyday.
"I daresay," Neraknarog's voice turned silken and smooth, "that you're not actually angry with me."
Look, his mind said, I give up, but I tried my best. Vegeta huffed and turned to the monster. He stared at the massive form that filled the capsule's inner cavity. "Hey," he responded defensively, "a little bit of anger is good for the heart."
"That may hold some truth," admitted the dog, "but too much will taint."
"I don't like philosophy," Vegeta grumbled, turning sullen again, "I like things laid out and simple. Things that you can't debate. Two plus two will always equal four. I like that."
"You mean you like security."
"It's the only thing that doesn't change in my life. That's all I ask for."
Vegeta kicked back for the rest of the ride and entertained himself with Neraknarog. They played "I Spy", "Animal, Vegetable, or Mineral", and then had a healthy discussion about the prince's new turn in life. Actually, Neraknarog spoke more and Vegeta basically sat back in confusion, staring up at into the non-eyes of his friend with astounding blankness and ignorance (which just so happened that naiveté and innocence followed directly behind this one). "You are changing," Neraknarog pointed out the obvious because it didn't seem so obvious to Vegeta.
The brunette tried to act like it was regardless of the truth, "Of course I am. I'm getting older every second. Always changing. Fact of life, that is. Change. It happens."
"Yes," the dog agreed, "You are getting older." If the Saijin didn't know any better, he'd say this murderous menace was hinting to something. Neraknarog paused, hoping that Vegeta would say something. When he didn't, he continued, "Things happen when you get older. Other changes."
"I get taller?" Vegeta said hopefully, brightly. The preteen had seen other people grow taller. It was something he believed would eventually happen to him.
"Yes," the dog said, slowly losing all hope for the "discussion". Shifting, it lied down across the machinery with a small sound. It wasn't sure where to begin, but it felt like it should do something. Vegeta was changing, and he wanted Vegeta to be comfortable. Pondering away for a few moments, the monster finally came to a decision, "Ask them about it." (Though he didn't define who they were, the them in question, Vegeta knew, was Syx, Niqu, Kincaid, and Bob.)
"About what?" Vegeta was still confused, "Me getting taller?" Neraknarog managed to nod. The prince took a breath and went to ask him a question when he found that the dog was gone. His eyes narrowed at the vacant space and he crossed his arms in irritation. He spoke out loud to himself, "I hate it when he does that."
Out of sheer boredom, the prince activated the transmitting stasis device, or as he called it, the sleep-causing thing. No need for euphemisms. He quickly drifted off as whatever it was kicked in. He had strange dreams.
He wore a suit. It wasn't a battle suit, it was a jacket and slacks combo kind of suit. Unlike the mold of a Saijin, the clothes fit him like a glove - a glove that perfectly fit him. It was black, but covered in something similar to binary code. It looked more like the Matrix, though, and it was green and everything. It was also blatantly obvious that he was taller. That, and he was singing. What the Hell?
"Thirteen, thirteen, lucky number thirteen./ No need to gamble, no need to dream. Lucky, lucky thirteen."
God, he hated having dreams like this. His mind asked his body to wake up to take him away from this crap. Sorry pal, some part of him replied, the sleep-causing thing, remember? Yeah, you put it on, the part reminded.
"Life's a film noir, so drink up your drink./ Twelve shots you miss, but not the thirteenth./ Never wear your heart on your sleeve, but trust in lucky, lucky thirteen."
Who was he singing to anyway?
"The control panel going beep, beep, beep. Oh lucky, lucky, lucky thirteen."
Say what?
"Vegeta, wake up." Hold on, he definitely didn't sing that. That was the familiar sound of someone not speaking. He willed his eyes to open, and he looked at Neraknarog groggily. "We have arrived," informed the dog. Vegeta yawned and stretched. Leaning forward, he reached through the yzaek and flipped a switch on the control panel. The beeping immediately stopped.
Neraknarog got up and walked away, leaving Vegeta to himself. The prince grumbled and crouched low, opening the capsule's hatch. Looking out onto the dock, he noted not only the high traffic/audience, but the decorations as well. Nappa and Radditz were waiting for him, both dressed in their best. Eyeing everything with suspicion, Vegeta approached very slowly. When he came to the other Saijins, he spoke softly, but enunciated clearly, "No details. Just tell me what's going on."
With a humble bow, Radditz replied, "Happy Birthday, Your Majesty. We are celebrating your thirteenth birthday and, consequently, your coming of manhood."
"Oh, really," said Vegeta.
"Sir, we have gotten you a fine gift," Radditz hoped to distract him, "Will you allow us to present it to you?"
The brunette looked up at the pathetic face of the third class and sighed. It was like kicking a sick puppy if he refused. Folding his arms, he stared into Radditz's eyes, "Very well." Smiling, the elder ran off into the crowd. Vegeta looked at Nappa who looked at Vegeta with uncertainty. Unable to stare at stupidity for long, the prince turned his gaze elsewhere. There certainly was a lot of people in the dock. Were these people he knew? Or was supposed to know?
Radditz returned, bowed, then stood sideways and announced, "ALL HAIL HER GRACE, PRINCESS YSABELLA THE FOURTH OF MOURIR." The crowd parted for a beautiful woman in an elegant, ornate dress. She had what some would call an olive complexion, and a heart-shaped face. Her hair was a burnt orange and a deep red, like a burgundy almost. Green eyes shone like emeralds beneath the mascara-filled eyelashes. She walked like the royalty that she was, carrying her large gown after her. It had plenty of girly things on it like pearls, lace, frills, and shit guys could care less about. "ALL HAIL HIS GRACE," Radditz finished the introduction, "PRINCE VEGETA THE FORTY-THIRD OF VEGETA."
Ysabella stopped short as she stared at the diminutive figure in front of her. Word of mouth said that Vegeta was not only a superb but vaguely unruly general, but also that he was..well..a man. With that thought embedded in her head, she hissed out in surprise, "A child!?" She gaped rather comically in confusion as the prince edged towards the other Saijins.
Putting his left hand up to the right side of his mouth, he not so quietly asked Radditz, "what's with the woman?" It was like trying to shout a whisper, it didn't conceal your voice, but rather just showed how obnoxious you were.
The older man shuffled a bit and began to sweat from being so nervous, "Your Highness, Ysabella is your bride."
"bride, huh? what's she do?" Vegeta asked, watching as the lady he was speaking about began to turn red.
"Sir?"
"i mean, what can she do that a man can't do?" he rephrased the question.
At this point, Ysabella was nearly turning purple, and she could not hold her tongue any longer, "I can hear you, you know!"
Vegeta ignored her, "does she cook or something?"
"I can hear you!!"
Vegeta kept on, "clean maybe?"
Radditz faked a smile and tried desperately not to make eye contact with Ysabella, "Your Majesty, may we speak in private for a moment?"
The brunette put his hand down and nodded, "Sure." Radditz lead him away from the crowd (and the fuming princess) to a small, secluded location nearby. After making sure that they had not been followed, Radditz looked down at his liege and sighed.
"Ysabella can cook and clean."
"A lot of good that does me in prison," retaliated Vegeta.
"About that.." the third class began, watching as the prince raised an eyebrow, "You won't have to stay in a cell anymore. In fact..uh..you get a suite."
"Wait, wait, wait!" Vegeta put both his hands out in the stop gesture. His eyes were a bit wider than normal, and you could almost sense the gears turning inside his head. He pointed at the third class and voiced his thoughts, "You're telling me that I get a suite where I can come and go as I please? That I'll have someone who will cook me anything I want whenever I want, and clean up after me? Am I right?" Radditz hesitated, not knowing where this was going, but he eventually nodded. "Well, Hell!" Vegeta threw his arms up, grinning, "Why didn't I get married earlier!?" Radditz couldn't help it - he laughed.
Neraknarog merely watched and waited.