Clear Mind (Open) Jun 7, 2019 18:36:11 GMT -6
Post by Bass on Jun 7, 2019 18:36:11 GMT -6
Bass's PL: 32'000
Bass's PL: 32'000
Though he didn't feel any better about his circumstances, Bass had managed to approach a greater sentiment of peace. Coming to terms with matters concerning his people, planet and life. Learning to detach himself from the hopelessness of his situation. A mere observer of his own fate as he watched his home turn to ruin at the hands of wars fueled by greed. Coping with the loss of many loved ones who returned due to the crossfires of one of many battles held between foreign factions. Friendships he'd made quickly severed as the economic and political decline broke apart many communities he'd come to familiarize himself. Although Namek was steadily improving, there was still a looming feeling of loneliness that encompassed him. Growing up in a world that was essentially a wreckage of its former beauty, architecture and homes alike broken beyond repair. One of many orphans trying to salvage what was left left of the ruined villages, the scraps and all that came between. His period of meditation in the Quiet Plains aided him superbly in finding solace after having another episode of anguish due to the very similar scene of foreign activity on Namek. All happening coincidentally as the set of Dragon Balls were created once again.
It was by no means a pretty sight. A shiver ran down Bass's spine as he saw the cool, metallic vehicles of battle once again land on his home planet. Every space-ship he'd seen dock since the Dragon Balls were created became another subtle reminder that all was not as it should be on the planet. His past life's memories coming to haunt him as visions of bloodshed plagued his mind. They were not memories he could simply leave behind. The faces of many Namekians he had come to know all scarred with the aftermath of events his father had died at the hands of. Their faces stained with lasting recollections of a war they could not win. Furious and distrusting of other races, namely of the space faring variety. The consensus among many he knew was to despise those you weren't able to immediately recognize as one of your own. Whether it be racially or as a matter of residency, xenophobia was building at an alarming rate. The death of the previous Guru an omen as to what might befall the future of the race as a whole. A warning that Bass of all people heeded very carefully given what had happened to his father when the last wave of aliens came upon the land. Their pursuits resulting in the death of many men and children alike. A fact Bass would not forget especially with all the arrivals from the Saiyan Kingdom, it seemed like all the steps towards another war were approaching at an alarming rate.
To halt his training at this point simply was not an option, it'd take a lot of time and effort but it'd be necessary if it means being strong enough to protect the things he cared about. Namek both his home and sanctuary despite all the violence and struggle experienced in such a short amount of time on the planet. Travelling to a more discreet part of the planet to make use of as a twisted kind of asylum which would provide him both safety and seclusion. Biding his time as he watched with an oh so careful glance from the confines of his tent. Far from the Maima Region in a location that was infamous for the little activity present on its land, known for its tranquility and silence. The still evening breeze brushing against his skin as he went to immediate self-reflection. Concerned with matters related to Namek and all that trouble that seemed to have been finding it lately. <How do I start? What am I to do even? These people are far beyond my level of strength, is it even worth trying at this point?> The thoughts he was having at the moment was by no means anything new, a problem he'd been tackling ever since he caught wind of the return of the Saiyans.
Eating up the very core of his being as he struggled to finds a means of resolution towards the alien parasites. Sitting in the midst of the plains without anything else to distract him. <Its a miracle I haven't managed to lose my sense of self when all the walls have come crashing in on me. Was my father as indecisive? Its so hard to tell at this point. When I look for the answers, is that you, or me finding them?> He'd been meditating for what was probably days at this point, remaining very still as he maintained his focus. Mind and body one as Bass tried to find resolve. Lacking both in the field of physicality and mental fortitude to be able to pursue his goals. Hands covering his face in shame as he sighed aloud, surrendering to his helpless circumstance with a defeated feeling. <I suppose I should sit here some more and think about it. The answers will come to me eventually, my instincts. They're all I have.> Alone in the Quiet Plains, Bass sat still in the soft grass. Knees tucked into his chest as he stayed ever silent, pondering over much in a short amount of time.