[Invite] Programmed Obsolescence Oct 23, 2019 21:58:20 GMT -6
Post by Dosu on Oct 23, 2019 21:58:20 GMT -6
Time was running out. The initial feeling of dread had subsided, leaving him with a sense of urgency, a last-ditch effort before he’d succumb to resignation. Bad choices, unfortunate turns of events, they somehow all came back at once in the form of his body failing. Back then, lost and without a proper sense of self, the Heran had held tightly on to his past memories, a crutch to help him face the world ahead of him. To live up with this then vision of him, he’d push his strength far beyond what would be considered healthy, ignoring every consequence. Now, they all came flooding back at once.
It started with fatigue. Far more than he usually experienced. Of course, he simply slept it off. Then, he started to realize that he wasn’t making any progress with his training, that he had hit a very strong plateau that he couldn’t seem to surpass. He had known his fair share of “power drought”, but it was starting to become concerning. Then came the dizziness and he started coughing blood. He’d get episodes of sudden shaking following that, rendering him powerless and most of all, useless. In a sense, he should’ve always known this was bound to happen. He was past his prime and tried to act as if he was still one of the spunkier fellows, unfortunately to no avail.
He was out of options. Traditional medicine amounted to nothing and the symptoms were getting worse by the day. However, the Heran was too much of a prideful man to die without trying something. This pride also had two faces. He couldn’t afford to bring in the Stargoons with him. For one, he was too ashamed of his weakened state to dare stand amongst them. Even the recruits had already caught up to him in strength, if not surpassed already. This was something to be done alone, with what little means he had at his disposal. Still, he needed to inform the one who started it all for him. He owed it to him in a sense, but he also had a favor to ask. That’s why he called Mumbo to meet up with him at the Goodbusters while no one was there. He had carefully avoided the place altogether for a time, but now was the time to face the music.
Sitting in a chair, Dosu waited patiently -as he had no other choice-. He had lost a fair bit of weight during that time, his hair was down instead of tied in a ponytail. Surely, the look alone would give some red flags. Only sudden episodes of coughing could pierce the silence as he waited patiently.