Otherworld was indeed a sight to behold. Its endless cloud filled landscape and calming nature was a brilliant testament to its heavenly work. Unfortunately, not everyone traveling through the land was in as good spirits as – well – the spirits below. As he traveled across the brilliant landscape of Otherworld, his mind was a blur from the fight with Vocado, to the sheer amount of Namekians awaiting checkin below. Being here cemented the reality that his world was gone – that his people wounded. He could barely live with his actions to come to Earth and being here? Well…
Everything was put into perspective..
As he flew through the lands, he happened across a meadow. It would have to do for now. He couldn’t waste much more precious time searching for his quarry. He had to make the first move. As he came to land upon the grassy field, Oboe would expand his telepathy outward in hope of finding her. His voice boomed in his own mind, but to others it would barely register as a whisper. A Desire to come to this location.
Nashua of Planet Vegeta, Please heed my call. I am in Otherworld – feel me and find me…We must speak…please, I know I’m probably the last person you wanna talk to…
Their last encounter had not gone the best. Infact, one could say his indecision to act might have cost Nashua her life. Though he had tried, and tried, to pull her from the path she’d taken – he had failed. When her body lie on the ground, he could not heal her – but because of that knowledge he didn’t even try…How could that have felt to someone? To see a person you called a friend standing over your body…only to do nothing? He held onto his hope that he could resolve their friendship and explain things ab it more…
The Endless Meadow had been a fairly nice place to relax ever since Kayen had busted up Nashua's television. For some dumb reason, the TV repairmen had said it was 'beyond their ability to fix' and would have to come ship in a new one, which could end up taking a while. Just annoying, really. Nashua could only imagine the amount of good shows and movies she was missing every day in that dark, cramped house. The meadow was a bit easier on the eyes for now, and had plenty of places to sit down and snack while she awaited the delivery. It was even a nice place to nap in the flowers sometimes, not that she technically even needed to sleep anymore. At least, it was peaceful when nobody was around to bother her - which was only every now and then. Even then, as Nashua sat on a bench and ate chips, her first instinct when a voice called out in her head was to roll her eyes.
That was Oboe, right? ...What did he want? And he must not have realized that she lacked the ability to sense energy if he was reaching out like that. With an annoyed grumble, Nashua stuffed her hand into her bathrobe's pocket and fished out her scouter she'd been keeping on her just in case. It took a moment to affix it onto her ear, and when she did, she found a power level that seemed like it matched around where she remembered Oboe's being. With a sigh, the Saiyan proceeded off in his direction, though didn't end up having to actually walk that far before she spotted the green skin and brightly colored robes of Namek's Guru. Oh, right... Hadn't Namek been destroyed?
Nashua wondered if that was what he was here to question her about - whether or not she knew anything about it. Well... She did, sort of, but not from any firsthand account of her own. When she was finally a few meters away from Oboe, she called out, "What do you want?" in something of an unfriendly tone. Oboe would turn to find her looking quite dissimilar to the fit and proud state she'd been in before her death. Her slim figure was now pudgier, her bright and cheerful face now dulled and overshadowed by unkempt hair that had been messily cut at her shoulders and no longer flowed down her back. And instead of the striking Saiyan armor, all she now wore were a pair of slippers and shorts, with an ill-fitting crop top and a long bathrobe to go over it all, with a bright halo shining over her head and her brown tail swishing idly back and forth behind her. She looked unimpressed, to say the least, at seeing the Namekian had come to visit her, as she reached into her bag and pulled out another chip to munch on.
The brash, irritated tone caught his attention as Oboe turned to view the reason for his visit. Nashua looked quite different than she had in the living realm, though he supposed so too did he. Her disheveled appearance and lack of preparation in her look made it clear she was either relaxing or just lounging. Either way, he could practically feel the vitriol leak from her question as she asked what he was doing here. He had expected some level of disdain after her death, but…
“I-I had come to check on you, see how you were holding up…and to just…see you. I- I want to…”
As he stared at her, from this distance, she may begin to notice how he too didn’t look the same. While his outfit and attire remained as it had, his face, his skin, his eyes, they were all worn down. It wasn’t the same as someone who’d been made exhausted, no…this was different. His once youthful appearance seemed aged, wrinkles had begun to form on his figure, his stance hunched as he actually seemed to be using his staff for balance. His skin tone was darker than normal and he looked as if he’d fall over at any moment.
This was the beginning of the curse he’d been afflicted by. The beginning of his body’s decay at the suddenly severed connection to Planet Namek. As she floated, dead, in space – he too began to die. Yet his process, unlike the Planet, was long and drawn out. Still, if he felt bad about himself he didn’t seem to show it as his own eyes took in the frustration and irritation of her view upon him. What was to pass between them was palpable; He could practically taste her annoyance.
“…I wanted to come and apologize to you. I let you down in ways I cannot even put into words. I…couldn’t save you. I couldn’t heal you…I couldn’t do anything. For all of your help to my people, to others, when you needed it most…you were forsaken.”
There as an admission in those words, whether or not it was at his own actions or the actions of all involved that day – Oboe was taking the brunt of the blame onto his own shoulders. He had come here – hoping to see a friend, hoping to alleviate the concern of death. What he was greeted with, however, was the sheer number of Namekian souls walking up the Lookout, the magnitude of death that stuck to him like a bad smell.
“…I failed you in life, when you needed me to stand with you. I watched you die and have mourned since…I want you to know…” He paused before continuing; “I want you to know I wont stop until you’re alive again…I swear this to you…”