That better not be Bubbles (Kalabas)

The super saiyan was thusly named for taking the natural instincts of the saiyan mind to their extreme, no? Beyond cold logic and the subject’s own reasoning, that primal urge to destroy, to conquer, could turn even the most good-natured low class into a world shattering beacon of apocalyptic light. But that was the crux of the matter, it 'only' could, it was possible to combat this beast borne from anger… or perhaps, not combat or tame it but direct it towards only some, and not every damned soul in sight. Unyielding rage had its uses, after all. Doing it was being… a process for Kalabas, for lack of a better term. Small steps and missteps, even some victories that made that inner stalemate more bearable, and many falls into old and more dangerous new habits. Kalabas still did not have complete control over this powerful form, but he had some. Enough. More than when he arrived. He could tell friend from foe, a stupid plan from a clever ploy, exactly what boundaries he overstepped with ease, and those that he did but shouldn’t. He should never, for instance, fight to the bitter end in Hell. It was a fool’s errand, otherworldly bodies were simply too strong, and whatever happened to those souls that were killed in afterlife? Did they simply cease to exist? Kalabas was curious but had no way to test this theory, or knew of a guinea pig detestable enough to perhaps doom with non-existence. Everyone in Hell was just so lovely! And those that weren’t were, for the most part, bearable. Most of the more rowdy sorts left the Duke alone, so mighty was he, and so it was hard for him to find someone - or something - with whom he could train without holding back. Still, he trained everyday. Why not? It was not like he had anything better to do, and he wanted to return to life as an even stronger warrior! Assuming that his compatriots were hellbent on resurrecting him, which he doubted. Surely, they would wish to things grander than the return of a quite resourceful comrade, resourceful to the point of finding a way back to the living world. Not that he had made much progress in that front, mind you. And so he trained day and night, the beast out of his body and the existential dread out of his mind.

Today was no different, the saiyan was hard at work terraforming lifeless brick red mountains into scorched craters, straining to push further past his limits as his golden aura began to lose its deathly vigour. As was always the case - well, most times-, as a super saiyan Kalabas was angry, but not mad. He could see beyond the immediate consequences of his actions, act on something other than impulse, talk with himself with things other than mumbled swears and roars that could be heard for miles, although he still did both in ample amount. These shouts were deafened by one thing only: the duke’s own blasts. They were powerful and immense and immensely powerful, easily capable of killing most of the damned souls between ten or hundred times over, they also made it hard for their wielder to notice the energy signatures of others - not everyone, however, those that could match or outmatch the super saiyan were very much in his radar.

In other words, in their respective base forms, Typha and Yudi were very much not the intended targets of Kalabas’ blast, although their mountain of choice was. There was blinding light, deafening sound, running winds, and a rain of colossal debris. The spectacle of an exploding mountain by the hands of one that could explode worlds was truly sight to behold. The Duke congratulated himself on yet another landmark destroyed. How very not polite of him.

Kalabas yanked his earbuds, over the drums and pipes and the total collapse of a mountain he could almost have sworn that he had heard something. Noises of distress, to be more exact. Did he just vaporize some unlucky bastard? - now he was the one distressed. Admittedly, the saiyan should have paid more attention, he couldn’t just go around destroying stuff willy-nilly while listening to marching songs, someone was bound to be hurt! Or, in this case, turned into ash and atoms… Oh, if only he had paid the littlest modicum of attention, or however much enough to go destroy some other range! The Duke cleared the smothering cloud of dust with a kiai, looking from high above for any signs of movement, or if not even that, snuffed life. What he saw perplexed him. The mountain still stood! That was not entirely true, he saw only just some signs that something had stood against the blast and held long enough to leave some rocky foundations as they were. It was enough to make the Duke winced, now he was sure he had killed someone! In Hell! So it was possible to do that... Well, at least now he knew. He turned, ready to fly away now that he had failed to locate any fleshy remains to show as evidence of his wrongdoing.

He didn’t managed to. He was startled by a scream. Of course, as the damnest damned soul around with the power to back it up, he wasn’t really startled. Surprised, mostly. Caught unawares. Definitely. With some relief he turned to face a very disgruntled shinjin. Or was the stranger a konatsian? Kalabas had heard some time ago that a mass resurrection had returned many of their people to their home planet of Konats, but apparently this one had been left behind - perhaps even with good reason? This being Hell, Kalabas could not be too careful. Then again, it was him and not this stray soul that was the real threat. “Are you unwell?” thundered the saiyan, wanting to be heard in spite of the many miles between them “Had I known that there were people out and about I would have picked a more desolate training ground! Then again, this place is so far from everything and everyone that for one would need a good reason or high purpose to come...”

Kalabas pulled an old trick of his, disappearing and reappearing right up in front of his target with, looming over him with his superior height, brawn and power. “Did you come for me?” a question made in a foreboding tone, the super saiyan was ready for anything “Kalabas Strongbone. Duke of Strongbone. Hopefully you come with good reason or high purpose... I do not take kindly to annoyances.”

Kalabas shrugged the sarcasm and insults hurled his way - he had just put two strangers in danger, so it was only natural (and fair) that they were wary of him. Hell, he would. An elite warrior that could knock out most people with a punch, who wasn’t even used to his own strength? The Duke was in desperate need of some training. Desperate for self-control as he was, he remained fairly calm as the Prince of Konats made his case. For, like, a second or two.

“King Kai’s student…?” how could the protégé of one of the most important being in existence be so… so... Well, in truth the konatsian was not pushover in any regard, he could very easily best many of Kalabas’ friends, but the saiyan had expected someone a bit more… god-like. A creature of immeasurable power, beyond even that of a super saiyan! Instead he was having a chat with someone about as strong as him in his base form. Still, the prince was the student of a kai, so he could only be a fighter of merit, right? Well, Kalabas was the sensei of a(n albeit lesser) kai too, so he had his own, arguably greater, merit! And he was a super saiyan to boot! Why didn’t anyone in the grand celestial ladder deem him worthy of training? It was hogwash! Hogwash! It was also not the time to melt into a puddle of wretched envy. Kalabas took a deep breath to calm down and gather his thoughts.

And breathed out as he choked in surprise, he gripped his royal counterpart by the shoulders and shook him slightly “You can have me resurrected!?” he let go, excitement trembling his voice “Why yes, I know everyone you speak of! I fought alongside and against Vocado in my youth, was bested by Kayen and Nashua a long time ago, equalled Yogu in combat just the other day, and absolutely trounced Kohlra in some tournament on Earth… _{By the ancestors, so many memories…}” He chuckled, his heart full of relief, tears welling up in his eyes “I always knew that I could return but to… have it as a certainty… I would forever be in your… Heavens above, to see my little girl again…” Kalabas face was flushed red, his brain a scramble of emotions as his body returned to its base form.

“Prince Typha…” the Duke put forward a hand, offering a handshake “Arrange my resurrection and I will aid you in life and death in any way I can. It is… only fair.” Kalabas was smiling, shaking. He would return! To his friends, his family, his kingdom! Hell was paradise, but Vegeta was home! His home! “Damn decorum! Let us embrace, my good man!” He threw Typha into his arms, a hug that would have crushed the bones of any lesser fighter.

Apparently Typha would rather have Kalabas not shout to the four winds that he was King Kai’s chosen. An odd preference but one he would happily abide to, anything for his hypothetical savior! Were he, the Duke, the chosen, then nobody in both sides of Afterlife would hear the end of it - he would boast as much as he trained, and rightly so! Although... he did not quite know for sure the first thing about the nature of the King’s trials, or even the strengths and techniques he bestowed on his students. Could Typha best much mightier warriors with some sort of trick or transformation? This uncertainty made the konatsian not one to be underestimated, and a quite appealing sparring partner for the saiyan, who was ‘invited’ to take a seat.

So he sat, tapping his shoe on crackling dirt as he tried to stay still in spite of his growing anxiety. He knew of two sets of dragons balls, and had even heard talks of a third one during his first days on Earth, but as he had learnt in his campaign of Namek these things took time to collect, as they were hard to find and fiercely contested by any well and ill wishers. Even with Namek’s Guru searching for them, and with so many in line to get revived, one at a time… Kalabas did not know if he could wait the months it would take for the balls' power to recharge and be found… So much could change until then. Which set would be gathered first? By whom? Would they resurrect Kalabas? For what purpose? Belle, Roma, the Kingdom needed him now.

“I have long lost any hope that anything would be easy.” the saiyan huffed, rubbing his throbbing temple as he loomed forward on his seat, not nearly as jolly as he was before. Did he have to scheme at every turn, manipulate every damned person that came his way? How else would he see himself out of Hell? It was how he got in in the first place. “Count your blessings, konatsian… I may know of a way. It is not an easy way, but it is a way, I would go as far as saying that it is a just, fair way. Heaven… reaches only for the worthy. Whatever deeds one committed to find themselves upstairs are surely reason enough to warrant another shot at life, no? Good deeds bring forth good deeds, it is possible that the same happens with people. Your doubt should fall between me and Yogu. Which of us two has committed the greatest sins, has wronged the most, has caused the most pain and suffering upon the undeserving? Which of us two has been changed the most by Hell? What impact will our actions have on the still living? I... do not know why Yogu is here, how better or worse his 'predicament' is compared to mine, but heed my words, Prince... I am here for a reason, and I am ready to answer for what I have done. Doubt it? Then ask away. I am an open book.”

Kalabas got him! Hook, line, and sinker! Not that manipulating an unquestionably good-hearted poor sod made the saiyan particularly proud, but it was a relief knowing that he still had the ‘touch’. There were some stronger than him, but fewer were smarter, and even less could orchestrate a conversation as well as he did. It came with practice, he supposed, at the end of the day he was still a statesman, wasn’t he? The Duke of Strongbone, even in death. Especially in death. This obstinate clinging to old habits were what kept him around while many others simply let go of their own selves. Afterlife was a dangerous place, and Kalabas wanted back.

“I understand you well. Death makes us true to others, but more importantly, truer to ourselves.” that was only a half-lie, which meant it was also a half-truth, perhaps this wouldn’t be as hard as the saiyan feared “If Yogu has yet to be helped with his possession, then I fear he’ll simply die again soon after his resurrection. Who is to say that his… ‘tenant’ can be kept in check? Perhaps destruction of the body is the only way to keep him and those around him safe... perhaps not. Who knows? I, more than anyone, do not. Those are magical matters and I am not fond of those. Never was.” Kalabas never liked the halfbreed that much, so throwing him under the proverbial soul bus did not cost him much. He could pretend, however. “But possessions are hardly a rare matter, I myself was possessed once by an artifact most cursed… The curse was lifted with a powerful enough blow to the head, perhaps something similar but more spiritual could be done to our friend? It would take time.” He stressed that last word. Time was of the essence, something too fluid in Hell, where hours could last seconds or days or nothing at all, but that was not so in the realm of the living… “To prepare, to find a powerful enough magician… Even then, that demon might be simply too strong. It might already be Yogu, not a simple parasite but part of his very essence.” He sighed, disheartened, forlorn, saddened by this injustice! Oh, poor Yogu, victim and aggressor at once! The saiyan took a moment, letting the mood set, silent as he reminded himself that he was not actually supposed to care for his fall guy. “Sorry, I… care deeply for him. I met many down here, but he was the only other damned soul that I knew from before my death and… there is some sort of kinship, in that. I suppose.”

Kalabas began talking again with renewed breath “The circumstances surrounding my death are complicated, but we have time don’t we? Well, it all began on Namek, when the asteroid belt cleared. Some few others and I were sent on a mission to gather the dragon balls to undo the destruction caused by the Fleet. Some weeks into the campaign, as I healed from injuries sustained from the repeated wear and tear of combat, I received a strange signal directed only at myself. Old tech, saiyan making, when I went to see what it was exactly I found a pod and a child. My child… my Belle. We hit it off pretty well, I reckon. Her father sent her my way to be tutored and protected, and I strived to become as great an uncle as I could. I tried to be caring, patient… Her shield in an active warzone.” he remembered those days, the sensation of returning to a tender home after witnessing - and causing - so much death and destruction “I wanted her to be happy. More than that, I wanted her to be safe.”

“She was neither. One afternoon, an arcosian came. His name was Chill, the name alone may not mean much to you, but he is the Director of the World Trade Fleet. Its strongest warrior. Stronger than.. anyone else I had fought before, at the time. I bested him. It took everything I had, yet he escaped, and he took Belle with him.” those days, months after were a blur. Mostly he remembered the bubbling healing liquid of the medical machine, his sleep through space, but that couldn’t be all, right? He must have done other things, received a message or a call… Or something. There was Masque, and the shipwreck too but… that demon must have scrambled his memories. But Typha did not need to know that, did he? “We met again on Earth. But this time, I came prepared. With friends and allies and saibamen, we stormed the Fleet’s base and forced Chill out of it. We rescued Belle too, but Vocado… did not kill Chill. Damned bastard must have escaped him too... Anyhow, Belle and I enjoyed a short period of peace, but I could tell she had… changed. She spoke highly of her abductor, her words were tainted with the sort of rhetoric found only in the most ardent Fleetmen… I was worried. Angry. Not at her but at myself, for allowing this to happen to her… my poor child…”

“Duty called. As I travelled with Vocado, who at the time no longer held his birth-given title, I caught wind of a coming raid on Arcose. I left Belle in Vocado’s charge, along with two others, Karon and… Roma. Do you know her? I wanted to… ask her out after all of this blew over... Anyhow, my mission on Arcose was a roaring success, we defeated all opposition, the only loss being my tail. A worthwhile sacrifice, truth be told… Then, duty called again. This time on Vegeta, my scum of the earth father had passed away and his affairs were left up to me to see through. Wouldn’t you know, Belle was not on the Roma’s ship along with her guardians my friends, but with her father, on Vegeta? I was surprised. Her father was not a good man, but you would not find a better saiyan. There is much to be said about Chard, but he was not… worse than Chill. As I went to make clear of the situation, that damnable arcosian appeared! Out of nowhere, he was there! He shot my uncle. Humiliated him. The man that raised me, that I adored as a child does his father, that I look up to even to this day, even after knowing everything he did... he bled out in my arms, saying how much he loved me, how strong he knew I could become. But I was scared, sad, angry. I wanted Chill... to suffer as I did. Even beyond that. It was then that I became a super saiyan. And... as I fought Chill, I used Belle. I knew he loved her as if she was his child, in some sick twisted way... So I used Belle. I put her in harm's way, relished Chill's fright, as he endured the attack for her and almost died and then... She spoke. Said things, that she hated me, our people, everything I stood for... And could you blame her? I did not. I was not allowed even a second to repent, Chill took my moment of distraction to shoot me. And as my brain collapsed upon itself, all I could see was Belle, walking away.”

“There is nothing I can do now, is there? It took but a moment of pure berserk madness for my child to fear me, and my life to be taken... I regret everything. All of it. You must believe me, I know that I wronged and that no matter how hard I try I will never make up for this, but...” the saiyan looked up at the prince, crying but unwavering “I failed the one person that I owed everything to, that gave me as much as she could and asked nothing in return. She fears me, hates me... She has every right to. I just want to... say my goodbyes. Tell her everything I could not in life, show her that everything I did... that I never wanted to hurt her...” instead of lying Kalabas had told him the truth, as seen by him. Death really did make people more truthful.

Kalabas gave Typha’s attendant a long stare, unsure whether his remark was genuine or a taunt. If Yudi was crying in earnest then that was a very good sign for the saiyan, yet another emotional connection he could exploit to not remain here stranded with the banshees and the puppy-kickers. They were bad company, but one he had grown accustomed to after a startlingly short amount of time, but he really wasn’t like them, was he? Typha appeared less moved, deep in thought and perhaps even concealing something. Kalabas did not like that. “The girl searches for me.” this lie, perhaps the truth at one point, escaped the saiyan’s lips when the tension became too much, and now that he had begun, he couldn’t stop “I was told so, in letters writ by a shinjin student of mine… Belle is searching for the balls! The purpose… must be to resurrect me.”

Kalabas lay a hand on his heaving cuirass, leaning closer as his fist clenched and tears rolled down his face “I have been here for what feels like years! I do not know how time feels like in Heaven, but in Hell? A day can take a week to pass, or a month a day, perception of most things is relative to the highest degree! And do you think I do not know that I was sent here to work on myself? Self-reflection is the only damned thing there is to do down here!” the saiyan gripped his knees, taking a succession of deep breaths as he tried not to destroy the only man that could lead him out of this place “I am sorry that you lost your people, your planet - the same happened to me, when the Fleet attacked, the anger you felt at that time was righteous, was it not? Mine was. And then the man that orchestrated it all captured my child, murdered my uncle, defeated me in every encounter we had... My anger was always righteous, I will never say otherwise, but at that last moment it was untempered, and... I could have done much, much worse than use Belle as bait.”

The saiyan pinched the bridge of his nose, his skin damp with sweat and his fingers twitching with anxiety “Not anymore. I am not like that anymore. I have been training my mind, focusing the wrath inherent to the super saiyan state, working out my complexes in hopes that one day-” the saiyan raised a finger, shaking it frantically “One day someone will have me resurrected, or I will have the means to escape from this place, and be able to make for all my wrongdoings. Prince Typha, I am not the same man that was sent here to purify, I am changed and worn and wiser... But, Belle is not. She needs me, her father, her real father, in these trying times. Everyone she ever loved is dead, only I remain here, for her and only her. I must protect her.”

“I did not try to kill her.” Kalabas snapped icily, crushing the pebbles under his boots “Think twice before hurling such damning accusations. I never, ever, had her demise in sight.” But which set of dragon balls would Belle be the most likely to search after? The Duke had no idea, but if he were to hazard a guess… No, too risky, it was wiser to fold on the matter. “And I do not know exactly which dragon balls she is after, my student did not have the foresight to disclose much about the situation of my own niece, or perhaps Paige simply did not know either. Yes, that is most likely, she is not one to do much with half-truths. Nevertheless, it is a perilous enterprise for a fighter as young and inexperienced as Belle, what little I know is enough for me to worry. A lot. In life I had no shortage of enemies cruel enough to go after those I loved, now even more than ever before as I am… well, dead. There was not enough of me to go around, it seems.”

“So contact Namek’s Guru, tell him of Belle, he wasn’t of much use during the Campaign but perhaps he will be now.” The saiyan jumped to his feet, crackling his fingers one by one as he looked around in search of someone in peril of being caught in the blastwave. Finding and sensing no one besides the konatsian, his servants, and he himself, Kalabas turned to his new acquaintance. “Well, I have had quite enough of self-reflection, in truth all this work and no play has somewhat dulled my mind. Oh yes I have trained Paige, but she is not quite powerful enough for me to practice in truth… You, on the other hand, look capable.”

Kalabas' hair whipped up, sharp and golden and him two or four times more muscular than he was before. Taller too, somehow. The greatest difference was in his energy, so powerful and mighty that he was sure not even planets could stand in his wake. However much stronger he was than any given planet, that did not make it any less apparent for him that many others were capable of just that, with much ease and gusto than he himself. This was why practice was needed, he couldn't trust anyone but himself to serve in the Kingdom's best interests in full.