Post by Saizomaru on Nov 30, 2019 8:06:22 GMT -6
Saizomaru PL: 175,000 (Base)
The air was clear, its coolness washing through the lands around it to the soothing melody of its soothing whistle; the branches and leaves of the trees and the long, thin blades of grass dancing to its tune and swaying softly against its gentle touch. The skies shone blue, glistening ever so brightly against the light of the sun like gentle waters through a diamond lens. Light shadows cast from the canopies of the trees over the fields, a mix of light and dark upon the green canvas of the plateau.
And yet the soothing and serendipitous scenery was cast down in tone at the visage of a lone man sat upon the edge of the cliff, legs hung over and back hunched forward, his arms folded in his lap as empty eyes gazed over the view of the village below. He had been gone for so long and, once again, the burden of loss weighed heavy upon his body and soul. He knew the pain of losing his lover. Now, he would know the pain of losing his son.
He had been an idiot for keeping the dragon balls unguarded. With so much complacency in the hunt, with no one targeting him or any other that held them, he became too lackadaisical. With the dragon balls taken from him and with no idea where to start, it cost him more than he had bargained for. When Kohlra died, there was hope that the Namekian dragon balls would be used. Now, with them in dormancy and the Earth’s orbs scattered and reportedly in possession of multiple individuals already, any hope to bring Tarch back was gone.
His chest tightened. The thought of permanently losing his child filled him with dread and sorrow… and anger and hatred and rage. He gave everything to save his world time and time again, and yet the only thing he had to show for it was the bitterness of loss. It started to make him curse his place among his lineage as a defender for a world who could do nothing but take and take and take, more and more they took from him. But then, he would remind himself that it wasn’t the world that was taking from him—just a few individuals. Then, he would come here, to get some air, to clear his mind. At night, those same dark thoughts would cloud his mind before he could sleep.
And it would begin anew once he awoke. He had been like this for weeks.
Saizomaru let out a harsh, exasperated exhale as he held his head in his hands. Even his blood was starting to run cold. He knew what he had to do but he couldn’t do it alone. He couldn’t ask for people to help him. Who could he ask? He did not know who could be considered friends, allies, or even who could be trustworthy in the slightest sense. Once more he had found himself alone.
Alone and wanting.