Garon's eyes darted nervously as he tried to find his way towards the train station. It wasn't often that he felt as nervous as he did; it was one of several emotions he didn't know how to properly deal with. But it wasn't unfounded nervousness; today was the day that Garon would go back to Central City; the day he'd see just how bad the damage was. He knew the good guys had won, seeing as the news wouldn't shut up about it. But Carro's status was unknown, and Garon almost knew he would never get the chance to tell him "I told you so".
After navigating the streets for another five minutes, he finally found his way to the subway... about five minutes too late. If the lit up sign was anything to go by, he'd just missed the train, and the next one wouldn't arrive for another fifteen minutes. A train moving the opposite direction sped by, illuminating the dark tunnels for but a moment. Garon decided to take a seat on the bench closest to him. Scared of what might come next, Garon sat there waiting, unprepared to come to terms with the consequences of his neglect.
Post by Cobane Sythus on Aug 17, 2019 15:34:44 GMT -6
Cold, Cold Reunion
25,000 PL - Base Form (x1)
As one train left the station, another one arrived. It’s route was separated from the one that had just left, but this stop was one it shared in common. As the soft screeching came to a subtle pause, the train finished rolling, locking its gears into the magnetic slots. A handful of people advanced towards the doors, either to get on or get off. As the seconds counted down, people pushed and shoved as to not get stuck somewhere in the middle when the doors finally closed. As people passed, they made little note of Garon, hurrying off to where their next stop may be.
As a Konatsian passed the purple scaled Doragon on the bench, a small twinkle would appear in the side of his eye. Should he follow his peripherals, he would be met by a familiar face with a new look. Cobane, the figure in question, was leaned against a pillar, tossing a knife on its point in flips. His gaze was purely roasting into Garon, even as some of the boy’s silver blood leaked out from his fingertip, staining the top of his skin and the tip of the blade. The ex-assassin had been away for so long, yet even when he makes a return to the city, he can’t seem to escape the other Doragon. Maybe it was fate their paths were to cross so often, or maybe it was some twisted god’s joke to make them commune into a dire crisis until one of them recognizes what exactly is wrong. Travelling therapists, almost.
Cobane flicked his finger up harder than the previous attempts, sending the knife skyrocketing into the tunnel. Its path was purely vertical, which would allow the Dragonborn to easily kick out his foot and catch it in his boot, matching it perfectly into it’s hidden compartment. After securing his weapon, the boy walked over and turned from the wall, matching Garon’s gaze as he went to sit. “You must have one hell of a story to always be here.” The Ex-Assassin muttered. “Most people run away from the scenes of their defeat. Guess you’re not most people?”
Last Edit: Aug 17, 2019 16:12:20 GMT -6 by Cobane Sythus: nothing changed
It was Cobane. Of all of the people that could have possibly moseyed off of that train, it had to be him.
Garon hadn't seen him since they came back from Heaven. One would think that the Doragons would be happy to see each other again, but even if Cobane was a little excited, that excitement was one-way. "Shut up." Garon said coldly and bluntly to Cobane. "What, are ya here to gloat? Here to tell me I did somethin' wrong? 'Cause if so, you can go straight back to hell." Oddly enough, there wasn't any anger behind his words. He wasn't mad per se, but he sounded like he wanted to be on the opposite side of the Earth. After a couple awkward seconds, the last sounds of the train echoed through the tunnel as Garon muttered,"...sorry."
"I-I fucked up. I fucked up a lot." Garon said. He only knew one way to describe the situation to Cobane. "Do you remember when you gave me the choice to run or not?" he asked. He needn't specify what he was referring to. "Someone... I knew had that same choice to make. I tried to tell him not to make the wrong choice like I did. I warned him, yelled at him, everything. But for some reason, that stubborn BAS-... person didn't listen to me. And now? I'm sure that when I get back, I won't be able to tell him how wrong he was."
"The way he was talking, he kinda reminded me of you, y'know. The whole 'stop being a coward n' shit' thing. He felt like he absolutely had to do something about it, even if it meant dying. I tried to tell him that things don't work out like that; they never do. He didn't care. He left to fight, and now he's gone for it."
Garon tried hard to keep his composure. "...dammit." Cobane Sythus
Post by Cobane Sythus on Aug 18, 2019 13:19:46 GMT -6
Cold, Cold Reunion
25,000 PL - Base Form (x1)
Cobane crossed his legs, pulled out his scarf and leaned an arm out to the empty side of the bench. His glare focused solely on an advertisement for the Baotendo Swap that had been there for months now. He didn’t read it. He didn’t need to. The thing was so popular, almost everyone on Earth already had one. His mind, rather, focused on his rival beside him. After all of the hero stories on the news, Garon’s power hadn’t increase a bit. Granted, neither did Cobane’s, but he was studying spiritual states, not spiritual energy.
Garon, eager as always to be pissed off at something, through his feelings onto the Silver Blood. He cursed at him, telling him his judgement wasn’t needed. Cobane just smirked. “What, you think I’m angry at you for something?” It was true that Cobane was angry at Garon, but it wasn’t for anything personal. He was simply upset that his efforts had been in vain in the past. Garon and Cobane alike were not meant to survive their battle against Chamil, that fate was sealed with Garon agreeing to fight after he regained his conscious. In reality, the only person to blame in that situation was Cobane. He encouraged the boy to fight and called him a fool for not wanting to stand up. Now, it had cost them one brush with death. It was fortunate that someone wished them life.
It was then that Garon did the unthinkable. He apologized. With that, a sudden reel of emotions came pouring out. A friend of his, someone who had most likely fought in one of the recent big battles on Earth, sacrificed themselves in an attempt to save the city. It was much like what Cobane did, except instead of Garon being told to stand, it was Garon telling this friend to run. The older Doragon was silent, taking in the details. The whole scene seemed to play out just like Badman did. Garon wanting to run, his ally refusing and encouraging him to stand up, Garon making a choice he would soon regret. History had a cruel way of letting Garon know he wasn’t fit to be happy, and would probably continue down that repeated history until he was strong enough to do it himself.
The Silver Scale tapped his finger on the wood of the bench, debating if his next words were the right ones. There was silence for an awkward amount of time, a theme that would seemingly recur throughout the dragon’s history. “Well…” Cobane started. He took another pause to gather his thoughts, then cleared his throat. “Some people make sacrifices. They know what they must do, even at the cost of their life.” Cobane’s silver eyes shifted from the wall and into Garon’s. “You can’t fault yourself for the necessary sacrifices your friend made. You tried to save them in your fear of death. Even then, they didn’t listen, because if they didn’t step in, who else would?”
Cobane turned back forward. His reptilian eyes shot back into the board, burning holes through it with his gaze. “Some people, like myself, are willing to die if it means it’ll have an effect on the future. Little by little, they’ll start to realize why we do it, and they’ll want to do the same, except, instead, they’ll do even better. They won’t make the same mistakes as us…” He paused, patching a way as to how to relate this to Garon. He bounced between why his rage might be so might and what the current events had to say. If there was one thing Garon had a vengeance statement for, it would not doubt be for Stargoons. They were the ones that sent him to heaven, after all. “Like with the Goons. We died once, rather horrifically, too. But because of that, people have made note of their threat. Chamil is dead, and that's because someone knew the risk, and they prepared for it.” Cobane’s head drifted downwards, his eyes now aimed onto concrete. “It may not be the fastest way, but it’s the only way to wake people up. Wars don’t end in a day, after all…”
Garon quietly listened to everything Cobane had to say. It was about what he expected; defending Carro's actions did seem like the logical way to try to cheer him up. At first, Garon was at a loss for words. Someone who he had fought almost to the death with on numerous occasions was now sitting next to him like he was he was some kind of personal therapist. A "thank you" would've been nice, or maybe even a "you're right". But unfortunately, things were not that simple. They were not, and will never be.
"No, that's bullshit."
Garon's hands almost unconsciously clenched onto the underside of the bench. "Sstop and think about it for a second. People are getting strong- and I mean unreasonably strong, right? Then people fight, and someone wins. Someone loses. It's all over the news for a couple weeks, but then guess what? Everything's just... back to normal. Like nothing ever even happened. Like no one died, or sacrificed anything. Then everything dies down for a couple months and then wuh-oh! Demon and the Stargoons are trying to take over the world! Or maybe West City's getting blown up! Or someone tries takin' out the MOON!"
"Yeah, wars don't end in a day, but they have to END. And if people keep throwing themselves at a brick wall like this, then if you sacrifice yourself for a 'greater good' or whatever, then what the hell's the point?" Truth be told, he wasn't just worried about Carro's sacrifice because of his death. He was worried that Carro would be forgotten- just another sacrifice in the pile of bodies that "good vs. evil" has accumulated. "The worst part's that we COULD end this if we wanted to. There's people out there who can blow up whole damn planets now. But instead people just... sit on their asses." Cobane Sythus
Post by Cobane Sythus on Aug 22, 2019 11:18:57 GMT -6
Cold, Cold Reunion
25,000 PL - Base Form (x1)
It was odd. Everytime these two met, they had always been screaming at each other. In fact, they’d never met for any reason except to kick each other in, whether it be on contract or mind control, their grudges always pulled them together. The strange thing was, they weren’t doing that. It was quiet now. Granted, Garon was raising his tone with his frustration, but it wasn’t full on shouting. It felt wrong in a way.
As Garon was processing his spiel, his eyes drifted from the concrete below to the Brass Blood himself. His hands were clenched to the bench, but without his borrowed strength, he wouldn’t make a dent in it. His head was obviously spinning in different directions, because when he finally spoke, he spoke of how people forgot. Heroism or Villainy alike, they would pop up, get solved, and then, in the course of time, it would fade away. He referenced, what Cobane assumed, to be the recent stories as to what’s been happening on Earth, and the Silver Blood just nodded.
“I get what you’re saying, but you’re acting like people can do anything.” Cobane crossed his legs and pointed at a passerby, an Earthling man in a red coat. “That man’s power level? Probably around two.” He pointed to a Konatsian lady and her two children, buying candy and drinks from the underground store. “They probably have a collective power level of five.” Cobane turned back to Garon. “Are you telling me that people should act like every moment of their life is a crisis when they’re incapable of fighting these forces?” The Ex-Assassin burrowed his eyes into Garon’s, his reptilian stare reflecting a dark demeanor. “These people face death bi-weekly, with some new invader coming in to kill them in any way possible. If I were tossed into a survival situation that much, I’d begin to see every other occasion as another time I could have died and move on.”
Cobane shot his face away, crossing his arms, facing the Baotendo sign once more. He tapped his foot impatiently as his thoughts process what he should say. “Attempted planetary destruction doesn’t get forgotten unless it goes unseen or is successful, which is why people are actively trying to destroy threats before they prove themselves too powerful.” Cobane’s breathing had accelerated harshly, but as his face winced, it began to slow once more to a calmer rate.
Garon tried to counter with an argument that people were powerful to take on these people and eliminate them by now, but they choose not to, to which Cobane sighed. “Look, Garon, you should know by now that people can’t come to the whims of some card to try and take the opportunity to kill these StarGoons. Consider this phase of the planet an act. The Stargoons are causing havoc, sure, but when everyone is afraid of fighting them alone, then maybe, instead of hiding and acting like someone should step up…” Cobane shook his head and stood up, looking down the isles of the train station. There weren’t as many people are there were a few minutes ago, but even so, people still roamed about. “If you want someone to step up, then be that person.” Cobane turned his head, side eyeing Garon. “You want to fight the Stargoons, your response to that should be making your own team. Their gimmick is working in numbers and they’re only recruiting from here.”
Cobane put a hand in his pocket, while he kept his spare hand out to motion as he talked. “If you want to have the power to stand up and fight, then maybe stop focusing on your personal power and combine with the powers of others to have an even more outstanding effect.” Cobane grit his teeth and crushed his eyelids shut. “I would have hoped that you’d learn that lesson at Badman, but it seems not.” Cobane pressed himself against a pillar without opening his eyes, using the ki of others to guide him. “So before you claim that people are sitting on their ass, why don’t you take a gander in the mirror?”
"Oh, yeah! Let's rely on teamwork and friendship! 'Cause that worked sooooo well last time."
Cobane had touched a nerve; probably not the best idea considering Garon's shifting emotional state. "Were you even listening to what I said?" he asked, furiously. "Of course I'm not trying to get random-ass civilians involved in this. You think I'm stupid or something?" That was debatable, but regardless Garon continued talking. "Obviously civvies don't do anything because they can't do anything. If they could, they'd be flying around blasting people outta the sky like the rest of us. Why the hell would I be mad at someone for not doing something they couldn't do in the first place?"
"No- what I'm pissed off about is that the people who can do stuff- all the fighters and villains or whatever- they're always at this big ol' god damn standoff! Everyone wants to fight, but no one's got the guts to win for once. And don't you DARE try telling me 'B-bUt GaRoN! It'S dAnGeRoUs!' or some other bullshit like that!" He'd let his anger get out of check subconsciously. "We're livin' during a time when the whole planet's at the mercy of some ASSHOLES who keep repeating the same fuckin' show over and over! The whole thing's dangerous- so is everyone involved! And none of it's gonna stop unless someone MAKES it stop!"
There was a moment of silence as Garon began to cool down a bit. Cobane Sythus