First Step Into a New World - OPEN

Sitting within the confines of his Ship – still awaiting the full repair of his home – Oboe had found himself deep in meditation as per the normal. Ever since becoming elected to become Guru the young Sage found most of his days in quiet contemplation, bothered only rarely by the few Grand Elders and some of his local villagers. Things had been kind of hectic around Namek lately – The Fall of the Warrior Typha, Yogu’s corruption by Monster and even some of the Saiyans returning, namely the one named Nashua whom he had enjoyed the company of not too long ago. It was due to the chaos of such arrivals and things that the young Guru had become quickly thankful for his solitude.

When his meditations were interrupted by the feeling of Great Power arriving on Namek – Oboe could barely contain the elation that leapt into his heart. Near instantly he recognized one of the two power sources and its owner, something that had come as such a shock to him that he nearly burst out of the bulkheads rushing out into the open air! Could after all this time his hopes of come true? Rushing outside the ship, Oboe would reach out with his senses and try and feel out who had arrived. While he recognized one of the two signatures, his damage from the battle with Yogu had caused his sensory system to become a bit harder to hone in on specific differences.

Oboe began to levitate, his blue long coat flapping violently in a swift summer breeze. Focusing his senses, homing in on the single source, white flames would erupt around the Namekian as he would blast off towards the landing spot of the incoming projectile. His mind raced with questions, thoughts and more as the elation to finding the one person whom he’d thought of more than a few times since their departure arrived on the scene. He wouldn’t make it in time at this rate, Oboe thought, so he’d release a bit more of his hidden potential and, in nearly no time, would close the distance between the Cargo Farmlands and the Maima Region.

Though the time had blasted by, it still took the Namekian a good ten to fifteen minutes of travel to arrive high above the location of the new arrival. Staring down, he noticed almost immediately, another pod rocketing towards the area at speeds unknown a short distance away. Staring down however, he saw that the Pod he hovered above was not the intended target of his desire – yet all the same, he did not recognize the figure exiting. Female in her appearance – mostly dictated by the comparison between Nashua, Casca and other ladies and their physical features – Oboe was curious whom this new arrival was. Though he wanted to check the other arrival – noting clearly that had to be the person he was most excited to see again – He couldn’t very well not introduce himself to a new person.

Slowly descending, Oboe would call down to the woman; Voice soft and full of kindness as his tenor magically travelled from the height easily down to her ears. Each word oozed with his smile as was seen when he’d come to land before her. With a low bow, he welcomed her;

“Welcome, Traveler from Beyond the Sea of Stars, To Namek! Are you in need of any assistance? Directions? Please do not hesitate! My name is Oboe. Kind of…the welcoming committee if you would. I was on my way to another locale, to see someone else, when I noticed your arrival. I hope your trip was without issue! What brings you to Namek?”

As Ochra stepped out of the pod, a familiar energy hit him. He recognized the power from the last time he was here, and noticed that the power was heading right for him. A small smile appeared on Ochra's face. He knew he would be going to him eventually, but it was a pleasant surprise to see him coming to greet him as he came to his world, especially since his arrival had been, for all intents and purposes, unannounced.

However, he noticed the power veer off, and then took notice of another, much smaller power nearby. Seemed Oboe took notice. The difference in power certainly told Ochra that the Namekian could take care of himself. But then again, he thought he could win against the Konatsian on Knutts, and the end result was the loss of his leg.

As Ochra walked away from his pod, he immediately noticed the two powers. The first, naturally, was Oboe, the Namekian who had helped him last time he was here. The second, walking towards him, was a saiyan woman. Someone he hadn't seen before. Ochra paused, a bit of distance between the pair of them. He didn't know what was going on, but she seemed harmless enough. He turned his attention to Oboe. "Good to see you again," he said, a small smile underneath his scarf.

Oboe

    “Very much not mind, huh? I can appreciate the enthusiasm there, even if the wording is rough.” The scholar smirked to herself, as she slipped her journal back into her jacket. Her walk continued as she listened further. “I would love to share stories with you and your people, if you’re fine with it. Let’s greet our nearby colleague, though.”

    Erina didn’t have to walk far before the second figure made their presence known. A fellow Saiyan emerged from the pod, radiating with strength. Based off his grizzled appearance and lack of a leg, the woman guessed he had been part of the recent conflicts rumored across the galaxy. His scarf was a nice touch, a small object doubtless steeped in memories for the powerful man. His greeting was simple enough, directed at the Namekian behind her. Her gaze sharpened behind her glasses, as her hands shot into her pockets. Her notebook returned to her hands, as she began rapidly penning down her observations.

    Ochra, huh? Not a name I’m familiar with off the top of my head; possibly running through the legends and rumors from Vegeta would spark some familiarity. So the two are old friends, who parted on sudden terms. And it would appear the leg was a recent injury, if Oboe’s shocked response was anything. I should have been there with you. I promised. Such serious words, shared between the two companions. There’s a legend there, a story of two turned down separate paths against their will. An epic worth chasing down in the future, if anything. Make sure to ask Ochra about it; Oboe would simply dismiss it and turn my attention to his village’s legends. The Namekian seems to hold his friends in high esteem, and would probably protect the privacy of the past.

Her pencil lead slipped as Oboe’s words cut through the woman’s focus, who slammed the notebook with a soft thud. Grinning at the Namekian Guru, Erina slipped her notebook back into her pocket. His offer for a change of scenery intrigued the Scholar; she needed a better grasp of the topography of Namek, and this was a chance to get a look from the sky without looking suspicious.

“I’d love to come and get a meal with you, Oboe! You up for it, Ochra?”

Overjoyed at the agreement of the two, Oboe would nod and lead the way from the front. Normally he wouldn’t be so frivolous with his own safety – usually preferring to remain in the rear as he observed outsiders – yet with Ochra around, his friend, Oboe was completely at ease. Without hesitation the young Guru of Namek lifted into the air and awaited the pair to join him before blasting off towards the Moori Capital itself. Even from this distance, the first and most noticeable structure of the city was the towering presence of Castle Namek overlooking the largest gathering of his people to date. The city had changed a bit since the last time the Saiyans had visited – a small space port or landing bay area having been extended and added onto Moori, though to the chagrin of the Namekians not a single sole used it.

Massive stone edifices, each portraying a different mural now surrounding the town as if a makeshift wall to both tell the history of their people and ward off any hostile wildlife from causing havoc. Its liveliness a true testament to the unity of the Namekian people even after such hardships. Landing on the East end of the city, Oboe would stand outside a modest but ornate (to Namekian standards) building. A small patio lined with tables and chairs and a delicious aroma of cooked meat wafting out of its open doorway. Gesturing with his arms, Oboe would smile at the pair of Saiyan.

“Welcome, we’ve come to know this place as “The Kitchen”, It’s a term I picked up on Earth! It seems…Apt!” Oboe Smiled with pride as he took pleasure in his declaration that the owner of the establishment took his recommendation on the name.

Upon Entering, the interior was far more deceptive on the inside, not matching the size on the out. The tables that were available on the outside paled in comparison to the quality and size of the oak and coral tables making up the interior. Motifs of Porunga adorning each curvature of the walls around them all converging on a buffet style setup. Meats of different Dinosaurs and Sealife lined the row as three namekian cooks fried and worked hard on their preparation and presentation. Offering them to go before him with his arms, Oboe smiled as he stated;

“Oh please! After you! This is my treat, help yourself while I find us a table! The normal for me – thank you!” Without another word, the Namekian headed towards table outside – wanting to let the people of another world take their time and choose wisely before they’d consider their conversation. After all, it wasn’t every day you were treated to the delicacies of other worlds – especially when the culture treating you to such barely ate themselves having no need to do so. Still, though they did not require food, it wasn’t as if they did not enjoy the act itself. Staring at the towering domed buildings around them, Oboe smiled with pride at his Planet.

Curiosity pushed Ochra to follow Oboe, though he would have followed the Namekian regardless. Namekians didn't normally eat. They were able to survive on water. So how good would they be at cooking? He remained quiet as he flew, though he was already appreciating the ease in tensions that he had been feeling as of late.

Needless to say, Ochra was surprised when they arrived, and the smells that hit him. Several meats and other meals had been prepared. Sure, Namekians didn't need to eat, but he hadn't considered that they would do it because they wanted to. With that in mind, flavor certainly would be more important than anything. And seeing the food before him was reminding Ochra just how hungry he really was. As he sat down, he found himself immediately reaching for a piece of meat, managing to hold himself back enough to not instantly gulp down the meat in his hand. Instead, he took a simple bite, savouring the flavor. It really was surprising.

"I must admit," Ochra spoke, after swallowing his food, "Namekians make pretty good chefs."

Oboe

    Upon sitting down, the woman began by sampling a bit of everything on her plate. There was a taste for every gourmet arrayed there, seasoned with practice and finesse that displayed the expertise and pride of the Namekian Chefs. Once she was done sampling, the woman started consuming food at a rapid pace. Her pace only slowed when the young Namekian started speaking, which prompted the woman to pull her notebook out and set it next to her platter of food.

    With a skill that showed her own experience with writing, the woman recorded his words with simple but efficient grace. Bracing the book with her forearm and flipping the pages as the need came, the Scholar recorded every event Oboe mentioned. It was clear that much had happened since Ochra had visited Namek, and an entire history awaited the young woman who had landed for the first time. Her pencil only slowed when he mentioned his new position, as Guru on Namek. Adding that final note, the woman laid the pencil down across the notebook and wiped her face off with the provided napkin.

    That’s who Solfe mentioned, if I wanted to continue pursuing the ‘door’ she gave me the key for. Not a name but a position. I should’ve thought about that myself, rather than scouring Vegeta for a Saiyan named Guru.

    Her thoughts were interrupted when the mood shifted course and Oboe directed his smile her direction. Realizing he had just asked a question, the woman traced her finger across the table in a small and concise manner. The letters she transcribed in her mind were the ones just spoken; not worth recording, but necessary for recollection of the immediate past. Wiping her mouth again, the woman set the napkin to one side politely before speaking.

    “Well, I wasn’t always a Scholar. In fact, right up to about 6 months ago, I was a freelance gunslinger on Vegeta. I lost a fight that could only be called one-sided, and realized that I had reached my limits as a physical fighter. My strength had peaked and I was left a worthless dreg of the past. It wasn’t until I told a child too sick to go hunting a story that I found a new calling. Seeing the light in her eyes as I recalled the adventures of the past gave me hope of my own. Soon I had entire crowds gathered to listen to my stories, as I regaled them with tales of danger and intrigue. But I soon ran out of stories, and realized that, in the galaxy, there’s a wealth of knowledge waiting to be discovered. Knowledge not just of ancient warriors and epic battles, but simple things like raising crops and rearing young. Without a written record of the knowledge of the past, the youth and passionate warriors of the current era will leave it a forgotten thing. So I wander the cosmos searching for answers and knowledge.”

    Her speech ended in an abstract manner, as the woman held out her first notebook, a battered thing with ‘Vegeta’ carved into its rough leather cover. It had clearly seen plenty of use on the Saiyan home planet, from the various tabs sticking out and the aged wear of the pages. Her smile was soft as she spoke.

    “I don’t know much about the state of the universe, Oboe...but that book contains the hopes and dreams of a village that saved a fallen mercenary from her despair. It contains all of their customs, their legends, and the names of their families and their lives. I couldn’t record all of their names and lives...but…”
        The woman bit her lip as she looked down at the table. Her voice caught in her throat as the emotions welled up. The sincerity of those old men and women, the ones who had insisted she write down not their lives but their children...it was coming back fresh to the woman. Her pencil had remained steady along with her voice that day, but the tears of both parties fell that day. The pure honesty in that request hadn’t been lost on the woman, and she prayed that the village would have peaceful days and the elders would live their last days in happiness.

“...it’s something I’m proud to have. Ochra...do you have anything to add about the current state of the universe?”

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