I bet your all saying, ‘what the hell took her so long!’ Well, SCHOOL is what took me so long. I thought I’d have enough time and energy to get this out sooner, but it just wasn’t happening. And then I cam home from school like four days ago. Me and my boyfriend went to see Moulin Rouge. And I’m telling you now, if you haven’t seen that movie you better get your asses out there and see it!!! Besides, I’m now obsessed with the movie. Also, I’m doing a fanart pic for this story and I want to know if you guys think I should do it in color or not. It would be a lot harder for me to do it in color because I’m not as lucky as some people out there and have enough money to buy that photo shop thingy in my computer. But hey, I’m working three jobs this summer and doing major competing with my horse, so I’ll be getting some money. Since, I’m a perfectionist it would take me so much time to color the thing in. But, I’d be willing to do so if you guys really want it in color.


Book II: My Eyes are Set on You



Pale, beyond porch and portal,
Crowned with calm leaves, she stands
Who gathers all things mortal
With cold immortal hands;
Her languid lips are sweeter
Than love's who fears to greet her
To men that mix and meet her
From many times and lands.


He never knew a goddess that could grow to be so livid. The way her eyes lit up with hatred and resentment and…betrayal? Yes it was almost as if Demeter, the goddess whom brought life, felt betrayed. It wasn’t just the scene that lay in front of her eyes to pierce her heart and soul with an acute blade, it was the reality that she no longer held inclusive control over her daughter. How he knew she loathed him now to no end of the vast heavens. He should not have touched her daughter, for she forbade it to any man that roamed the mortal world. What an idiotic move on his part, he knew it, and this is what it brought him to, Death. He resented himself, his character, and his punishment but to no avail it did not bring comfort that he would be accepted into Elysium. Demeter was too lenient with him, he almost wanted to run to Tartarus and condemn himself there for all eternity. He had always praised Demeter and gave daily sacrifices for her divinity. And look what he did with the trust she gave him. He tried to take her daughter when he knew that from the depths of all knowledge that the man who laid hands on her would die and dwell in sorrow and painfully enough, not oblivion. He would prefer to be clueless about what had happened and forget all he did, but he was to suffer with the truth. And always remember the eyes, the lips, the neck and the whole being of the goddess that no man was allowed to own. What an alluring creature she was, not only with the looks she was given as a goddess, but her soul. Oh, her soul, what a treasure, what a mysterious treasure. It is no wonder Demeter protected her precious daughter with such a rigid blanket. Any man wanted her, her body, and her soul. He realized, and he knew he would too, that any man who was permitted to have her, would rip and tear into her heart so he could see all her glory and in the end leave her dead, not literally, with no hope of bliss. But then why was it that whenever he looked into Bulma’s eyes they seemed to plead for release, for a new life, for love. He thought he could give her that one thing and her mother would then give her to him for making her so blissful. But it was not to be, not only had he already built a bad reputation for himself in prior relationships, but also it was simple and just that no man would ever have her. The day he was allowed to see her again was the day he became Kakarott himself.

Betrayal, betrayal, why was there betrayal in her eyes when she had caught him and Bulma in an intimate acquaintance? The feverish hatred he knew was directed towards him, but when she eyed her daughter’s glittering eyes, flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and rapidly rising and falling chest, he had seen betrayal. Was it possible Demeter was now angry with Bulma? Was Bulma also to be punished? No, Kakarott, would never let any harm come to his beloved daughter, especially not by Demeter’s hand. The way his heart had sank when he realized he was playing a fool’s game when he had laid lips on Bulma, the way Demeter’s eyes stung his very soul. OOOHH!!!! Those eyes would never leave his mind; they’d haunt him for all eternity. He’d never be free of his crime. Then the thought occurred to him. Why had she been lenient and sent him to Elysium instead of the alternative? Maybe, just maybe, Bulma had asked for some leniency.

"Young, foolish soul, Cerberus is beckoning you, can you not hear it’s ferocious howl?" Charon interrupted the soul’s thoughts completely, bringing it back to the actuality of his surroundings. He then turned to view the monster for himself, it was true, Cerberus was calling for him. What I frightening sight it was, the sharp, long teeth protruding from the beast’s mouth, the chorded muscle lining the creature’s bones stretching the leather like skin. With three heads, it was a complete anomaly, one he did not wish to come into close contact with.

Without hesitancy and with aggressiveness, Cerberus howled again, annoyed that the soul had not already come to his side. "I’d not make that animal angry, he is a violent condemner who wishes only for his master’s happiness."

"His master is the god of the Underworld, is he not?"

"Yes, pathetic, weeping soul."

"Must you make me despise myself even more?"

"It is you who makes yourself despise, not I."

"Well then, I must satisfy Cerberus with my presence."

"Do not flatter yourself, you will not satisfy any one with your presence, especially not Vegeta."

"Has he not sent his pet to retrieve me? I think it shall satisfy him if I enter his palace to please his request."

"When the furious god Vegeta asks for a passing soul’s council, he is in no disposition to take note of an arrogant mortal whom thinks himself even close to the astuteness of a god. For he will not be calm, appreciative, nor benevolent. He wishes something out of you, and will torture you to no end if you do not suit his requests. I warn you, do as he says, and do not look that god in the eyes, for he will singe your soul for such impertinence."

From the heart of the Palace of Hades came a deep rumbling laugh that echoed through the hearts of every near soul, piercing euphoria and fearlessness.

The soul looked towards the place that the sound had traveled from, knowing the worst was still to come.

"You see, even now he watches you and listens to my words of warning in pure amusement of even my trepidation of him."

The soul traveled then to the waiting Cerberus where the beast blew the air forcefully through his nostrils and the soul’s shadow once again had a body of flesh and blood.

And in a voice mixed with the cry of a dove and the roar of a dragon the beast spoke words.

"Vegeta impatiently awaits you to kneel before him and offer him your loyalty. Come now."

As he followed the beast into the cold palace, he felt that even though his body had returned, he was in danger of losing his soul.


Vegeta watched idly as this man walked through his palace in inclusive phobia of what would be needed of him. It was only a matter of the goose bumps on the man’s skin, the wide and alert eyes, the slightly trembling hands, and the beads of perspiration that started to form on the man’s brow that gave Vegeta the ultimate picture of this mortal’s apprehension. It was healthy that he did fear him, Vegeta preferred rule like that. He remembered an ancient question once asked, "Better to rule be fear or by love?" Well, he truly believed in fear being the much more reliable of the two. When you strike fear into the souls of a kingdom it was usually with the use of a punishment known as consequence. You could have a man pay you every month due fees higher than any truly needed amount, and he would do so knowing that disobedience led to either his severe punishment or the death of his family. Of course there were many levels of rule by fear, ranging from a constitutional monarchy to a totalitarian rule. But it seemed to Vegeta most mortal kings upon the earth chose a subtle form of absolute monarchy, never tightening the belt tight enough around what they owned, or at least, what they thought they owned. Some even used love more than fear. Love left you vulnerable to mockery. A member of the kingdom could walk all over a ruler, abusing what was kindly given to him. Why, that was just one consequence of many Vegeta could imagine that came from ruling with a soft embrace.

Finally, Vegeta’s guest had arrived as Cerberus hastily pushed the massive black marble doors ajar to allow the man access to the throne room’s cathedral like interior. The plush, black velvet that ran it’s length to the throne set of the floor made of thick, gray slabs of concrete…no, not concrete…it was moving. The man’s eyes flew open in shock; they were souls, phantoms, and shadows (oh my!). They roamed within the floor, the floor of Vegeta’s palace, in despair and muted cries. But weren’t all tortured souls kept in Tartarus?

"They are those whom did not obey me, did as I wished of them, those whom mocked me…fruitless efforts they were so I pleasure in hearing their cries of regrets. If you do not fear for your soul, then be my guest, and disobey me, look me in the eye and mock me." Vegeta smirked then at the man. "Man enough for such a task?"

"Fortunately, my god Vegeta, I do fear for my soul. I am man enough for such a task but only towards another mortal, never a god, especially one as powerful as you, a son of Cronos, a brother of the all mighty Kakarott."

Vegeta cringed at the name the man had mentioned so swiftly. "Fool! Do not mention Kakarott within my presence with such respect for his name! It is I whom deserves his position as the God of gods." Vegeta huffed mockingly at the man. "Well, I guess, a mortal wouldn’t understand the friction between the highest Olympians." Vegeta calmed his fury and let one of the many serpents that roamed the palace entangle its lengthy body between his fingers.

"Come now, and talk with me, I wish to know of your troubles that lead you to your death and then I shall ask you what I need to know."

The man then walked the length of the black velvet desperately trying not to let the many faces of tortured souls affect his sane balance. But, now, he had finally made it to the few steps in front of Vegeta’s throne; he took a comfortable kneeling position on the highest one.

"Vegeta, king of Hades, the Underworld, my name is Yamcha. It is the pain and tragedy of an utterly impossible infatuation that has led me here to the depths of the ever-dark kingdom of Hades. As a foolish hunter hunts a suspecting deer; I sought out love. I had built my reputation as a suitable mate, to any who would call upon me, upon a weak stepping stone that made many flee from my offering hands. You see, I am a man of many tastes and could not for the life of me set my eyes on one delicacy for the rest of my life. So every time I’d make a promise of ever lasting devotion to one, I’d let my ever thirsty eyes wonder to another and then another. This slowly made me an unwanted man amongst my fellow elite social class of acquaintances. No matter how hard I’d try to hide my past follies, every father, if not the daughter, knew of my disloyal tendencies and would not let me even into their own house. Though it was against the law of hospitality, I understood that even if I were I a god, they’d not let me in. I have tasted many a deserts but never had I chosen a favorite. I once said it was like having to choose to eat the same meat for every meal of the day and of every day of the year for the rest of the mortal life. Not one man disagreed that that would be a very unbearable cause. But I now know I was foolish when I believed that and I may still, but one day I laid my ever traveling eyes upon a goddess. Yes, literally a goddess. The goddess Bulma; what a simple name for such a complex woman, a young woman at that. Every man who craves a woman knows her; she is the daughter of Demeter, a very protective goddess, as you would most definitely know being her brother. Every man knows that to lay eyes on Demeter’s daughter with the smallest hint of wanting is forbidden. I knew this very well, but something drew me to her, something I’m not sure I could talk of and make understandable. It was her eyes; there was something about those oceans of blue and her hair! Truly the hair of a goddess; no other being has been seen with hair like this. Then it was the way she held herself, the way she talked and walked screamed divinity. And of course, I was a fool; I thought I could give her everything life had denied her from that point. She had never felt the warmth of a man’s desire or the feeling of being captured in a man’s eyes with no escape. I thought if I gave her that and she accepted, her mother would allow me to have her as mine…I was such a fool."

Vegeta broke into laughter at the man’s obvious regret of such an insolent accusation and the pitiful tone starting to seep into his voice. It seemed he’d start to cry again, and Vegeta couldn’t stand the whimpering of souls, it made his stomach twist into knots.

"Such an ignorant and assuming man you are to think you could ever pull Demeter from her word. Along with that you are a mortal, not a god. What would make you think you could HAVE a goddess as yours? Such a pitifully foul man you are. But what I wonder, is why have you not been sent to Tartarus? Demeter would not have given such a lenient punishment. I know her all too well."

"Of course, my god, you are right. Though, I myself do not comprehend her rational for not putting upon me a more acute reprimand for my wrongdoing."

"Humph, well, enough of your pitiful little story. You see, I’m finding my kingdom a rather lowly, dark, and lifeless dwelling where I have no being equal to me and none to hold a passion with. I am a man who desires an equal in will, absolutely not in strength, for I must always be the leader in that aspect; but I want someone with a wit as quick as mine and a life just as longing. I want a being that will fear me, love me, and do as I say; and I in return. I want a piece of property in which I can pride myself in like my undeserving brothers who have hold of land and sea while I am stuck in this life forsaken place. You see, Yamcha, that is your name isn’t it?" Yamcha lightly nodded. "I want a female worthy to be my bride. And you have already, I guess you could say, ‘enlightened’ me. Demeter’s daughter, this goddess Bulma; you speak of her as such a priceless treasure. I think I shall look into her. The deal is, you will walk amongst the living once again but only to get her to me when I call you to. In the meantime I shall eye her out as I attend gatherings at the Olympian palace and I shall ask her father for some form of permission to have her, though I’ll take her either way if what I see is what I want." Vegeta looked into the mortal’s watering eyes seeing a denial spawning in the weakling’s head. Now would be the time to give a warning. "If you shall refuse my request I shall strip your soul from your body and have it writhe in pain, regret, and sorrow amongst all others whom have disobeyed me into the floor you were so careful to ignore before."

Yamcha couldn’t bear it; his infatuation would become a bride to this monster? The tyrant god of the Underworld? Vegeta? The god whom was supposed to have no real heart but just the head for inflicting suffering? Bulma, his sweet Bulma, would just be more miserable if she were to live in this cold, dark place with a man who was incapable of love.

What choice did he have? He had already disobeyed a goddess once, it was more than unwise to do it again and this time a much more powerful one. He’d have to agree to this, or he’d be lost forever in his sorrow. He could again see his undying infatuation.

"I have never had patience, mortal, answer me now or you shall get your punishment."

"I will do as you instruct, my god, Vegeta. Whatever you wish my mortal body to do, I shall do and without hesitancy."

Vegeta smirked at the man, already detecting the valid infidelity that lay underneath his seemingly acceptable words. He was a danger to Vegeta’s wants considering he had once, and probably was still in love with this goddess. Well, he’d never have her. And just for hesitating, Vegeta had already made a note to himself to give the man, Yamcha, some form of punishment once he got his bride.


Olympus is the abode of the gods that stands fast forever. Neither is it shaken by winds nor ever wet with rain, nor does snow fall upon it, but the air is outspread clear and cloudless, and over it hovers a radiant whiteness. Therein the blessed gods are glad all their days. Each long day till the setting of the sun the Olympians feast, and their hearts lack nothing of the equal feast, nor of the beauteous lyre, that Apollo holds, nor yet of the Muses, who sing, replying one to the other with sweet voices. But when the bright light of the sun sets, they go each to their own house to take their rest, where for each one a palace had been built with cunning skill by the famed Hephaestus, the limping god; and Kakarott, the Olympian, lord of the lightning, goes to his couch, where he takes his rest, whenever sweet sleep comes upon him. Then he goes up and sleeps, and beside him lays Chichi of the golden throne.


She’d never forget that day, a day unlike any other spent by any god or goddess, a day that struck her heart with the sharpest blade and caressed her skin with the sweetest flower. She had never conceived of something so stimulating; the skies had been perfect that day, if she recalled correctly. The breeze had been blowing through the leaves of the neighboring trees at the base of the mountain, the grass was dancing in an impression of waves, the flowers were a riot of color and the sun shone upon this blessed ground in awe of the beauty that grew from every lustrous portion of land that bounded the mountain Olympus. The birds were in performance of their songs of prayer and praise and their melodious, feathered wings sailed along the wind with such a tranquil endeavor it was if they were resolutely building her envy of all their winged grandeur. Everything that surrounded her was so seamless and unbound that it actually felt like a fearsome enclosure that she’d never escape from no matter her tactics in the matter. Though she had never adored anything more than the life she lived she always felt as if there was something missing. She had her love from her mother, the attention from her fellow goddesses, her flowers, and her heart. She always loved to pick flowers and mold them into extravagant bouquets and other delightful things for the eyes to dwell in daydreaming on. She thought that flowers were the very color of the soul, the very foundation of every passion that seeped with a mindless flow from every being. Unlike many of her fellow Olympians, she adored the human heart; it was never evil, but never pure. She admired their freedom of thought and action; their limitless experiences of life. She knew any god or goddess could experience what humans did but not with their utter innocence, confusion, and curiosity that drove the humans to experience the un-experienced. That alarming and glorious day had shown her what she was awaiting and seeking with eyes blind to reality. She had never identified the gratification of being with another being. She had never known you could experience such a rush poisoned with unstoppable need and desire. She had never known you could suffer an ache from the depths of your heart that was not driven from pain but by love. She had never known any of this. Why? Why hadn’t she, the goddess of spring and flower, ever known this luxury of life? It wasn’t right; she should have known of this treasure long ago or she wouldn’t have been such a fool when that man locked his eyes on hers. Even now she could feel her abdomen loosing its solidness, her heart skipping its beats, and her mind going into a dizzy haze. No man, nor anyone for that matter, had ever looked at her that way. And it felt as if she’d never live again if she let go of his gaze, of those deep black eyes. She knew she’d never love that man, she knew enough to know that, but it was then she finally discovered what it was that made love so special. That man loved her, at least she though he did, and there seemed to be unstoppable urge when he finally made contact with her. He didn’t ask for permission to lay his lips upon her, which was rather rude, but then again, she gave back with an equal amount of requirement for consumption.

But that peek at her missing emotion had left her more distraught than before. When her mother had caught her, she had been furious. She sent that man that gave her the key to life’s secrets, to Hades. To that monster King of Underworld she had heard so many terrifying stories about. Was she doomed to never find her true love? Did her mother realize what torture she was sending her daughter through?

"Bulma!! Bulma!! Where are you?"

Bulma quickly rose from her lying position on the hill outside her mother’s temple, hearing her friend Cyane’s voice. Cyane was a lovely nymph (god/human) with a river of red, silky tresses and sky blue eyes. She is one of Bulma’s most beloved friends amongst those who visited her often.

"Why do you call with such fervor Cyane? Does the sky not speak the calm of day and the slight hum of crickets call of no danger? Tell me, is it that you are running from your latest suitor?"

"You hold no worries in the world do you Bulma. For yes, the sky may speak of calm winds and clouds and the crickets of no apparent danger, but the sky and the crickets do not know of every wondering soul and lurking beast. But I call upon you with such fervor because you promised that I could pick your way of dress for the banquet tonight. And with you sitting and day dreaming in Helios’s rays all day, you have wasted precious time."

"Oh yes I do remember now, my apologies; it’s just that I find myself constantly thinking of life these past few days with no boundaries for my imagination." Bulma lifted herself from the tall grass and lightly brushed herself off before making her way to the side of her friend. They then started to head towards Demeter’s temple.

"Thinking of life? Why think of such things when we are eternal. Life holds no interest for us immortals and the hands of time have never cared for us. So why dwell on things never meant for us to have?

"Because life does hold interest for me, and every other being including god and goddess. We all share the miracle of life except us immortals have it forever. But yet I find myself never seeing what the mortals see, nor feeling what there hearts feel. I must be honest, I want love, love from a man. I want to feel that inexplicable passion."

"Don’t worry my friend, you shall have love and you will feel what those mortals feel. But do not wish to be one of them. For they are foolish and easily tricked and do not give love the respect it deserves. When a god and a goddess fall in love, it is not just two souls binding it is two elements of life joining into a glorious union. Do you comprehend my words?"

"Yes I surely do, but my mother will never see it fit that any man, mortal or immortal, lay his hands on me."

"That is true I fear, but don’t worry, the fates have a plan for you in the working, I’m sure of it. Now lets stop this talk of uncertain things and let me dress you to be the beautiful goddess you are. I received some new diamonds, rubies, silvers, and golds as of this morning. You shall surpass even Aphrodite’s beauty this evening."

Bulma blushed at Cyane’s most likely over done compliment, but she was not one to shy from such praise. She’d let her friend fix her up as she wished, and maybe tonight she’d see a man she’d love and he in return.

* * * * *

Book 1
Book 3