Abandonment Issues [Open]

”Oh?”

Celeste turned to this newcomer slowly, eyes bright with interest. The mass of green muscles before her carried a certain familiar air. Lengthy, wild hair. A rugged complexion. Had they met? Celeste’s gaze trailed down the man’s leather-clad form before meeting his eyes again. Hm, it was so hard to keep track of anyone’s name these days. She touched dramatically at her collarbone, when his proud declaration had been made. ”Oh! Hark, brave one! Have you seen him?” Celeste shook her head. ”We were together before, but it seems they were lost to the wind! You know how this place is!”

A dust devil would kick up in the street with a rather dry breeze over the arid earth. The blond would have to hold her hat in place, shielding her eyes with a hearty laugh. “Haha, true to the last! You see? Even the winds lament my dear friend’s absence!” A hand was draped wearily across her forehead, before the witch was suddenly overcome with a coughing fit as she began to spit up sand. A grimace before she would regain her composure, and offer the hero an all too smug a smile.

Celeste paced forward until she could look up at the heran. He was rather taller than the girl, and towered over the witch though she tried not to show it. Instead, she stepped to the side, considering the sky in a remorseful lament. “He was rather remarkable himself, well before the attack that was...” The blond let her chin fall, her smile droop as she made to sob. Celeste would glance to the hero without turning to face him.

“It was dreadfully awful. He called forward some terrible power, nearly destroyed the entire place. So many lives lost, so many more accidents - a real tragedy!” Well, that may have been stoking the dramatics of the story a tad. Not that there was anyone around to argue the intricacies with her, after all. The witch offered a weary sigh, finally turning to face the valorous knight. The expression she would offer him was the best she could concoct from her own misery over her friend, and his power’s absence – pained to the very core, tears threatening to well over at any second.

“He must have had his reasons! I suppose...” The witch played at consideration with a glance to the direction Fukushu had come. “I’ve no choice but to ask him myself, but as you can see...” There was an awkward silence before the blond would fill it with a rather uncharacteristic giggle to her predicament. “Ah to be rambling again, listen to me!” A broad grin to the green gentleman. The blond touched at her cheek, tilting her head in curiosity. “You said you were a hero? Truly, the best there ever was?” The witch had to eye over the heran once more, a bite at the bottom of her lips before she began to slowly circle him.

”My, you are a bold one.”

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Fukushu

There was nothing that warmed her heart more than a passion for justice -- or at least so long as it aligned with her interests. Celeste had strung the man along on electrified wire until interest was bright and eyes burning – yes, she could very well recognize passion when he spoke. Had Celeste told a lie? Her friend had hardly killed a soul. It was the curse who had stolen their health by trying to end him. Such a tragic waste.

The little bustle of the outpost felt louder around them. Closer. Had she once been so like the brave man beside her? Bright-eyed? Naive? Eager to lay down her life for her people? Celeste, Archmage of Levinwood, the very notion gave a hearty laugh in her mind’s eye. How funny it all seemed now. Perhaps they might have truly been allies, heroes in common cause, were their paths to cross in another paradigm. As it stood, the heran’s words made her mouth sour.

The witch’s eyes would glint when she met those of the proclaimed hero, pausing her advance when his arm was suddenly put out to bar her path. ”Perhaps...” she offered lightly, dipping beneath the arm casually so as to continue her saunter unimpeded. ”There wasn’t anything I could do,” she added flatly. The blond ceased her predatory tactic, and instead would mosey away from the composed warrior. She offered a shrug to the question, to her friend’s predicament, turning on heel with renewed effort in the broad grin she offered the valiant soul of justice.

“Though I suppose one can never know. Evil hides in many forms after all.” The next thing the heran asked aimed to bring her intent to light. The witch was rather taken aback, pausing to blink several times. ”Well,” she looked away with disinterest, as if the question had hit a nerve. ”I did mention he was my friend...” her volume rather quiet, mirroring the contemplation within. Celeste thought hard on the matter, whether the words were really true, or whether this was just about what ailed the poor soul. Was this a pursuit of power, or something...else? The witch frowned, shook her head, then stared hard back at the unproven savior.

The wind swept between them, hot and dry. Celeste tilted her hat down over her eyes. They were beginning to sting.

”With him running loose with that sort of power, well, I’d worry for the city if nothing’s done.” The witch would tilt her chin to the sky enough to meet Fukushu’s eyes once more, a broad grin to match a broader outlook to her predicament. ”It seems we'll have a time ahead of us, if you’re to help with the search. Might I ask what brings you here? Certainly, such a selfless soul wouldn't mind sharing.”

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Fukushu

The witch wasn’t sure what was suddenly so amusing to the enigma, but she was so very glad he found entertainment in her stories. She did aim to provide, and surely a mercenary around an outpost for which one was so indubitably named might be found wanting. Though to say this conversation had not become intriguing, would be putting it rather lightly to Celeste. The mercenary started forward without another second of conversation, and Celeste blinked after him before chuckling to herself.

She followed behind at a leisurely pace, her attention drifting to the variety of stalls as they passed. There were merchants of all kinds here, all clamoring for attention like squawking finches. Celeste hummed at the sharp smell of mixed spices as they passed a particularly colorful table. Truthfully, the witch expected the volunteer’s inquiries to turn further inward on her own nature, as it so often did, rather than the heran and his culture. A brief elucidation provided some context, which all came as news to the blond.

”Nothing, I’m afraid. Though I’m sure you must miss it terribly. Rather, it is so kind of you to aid a stranger in need! I dare say I’ll need it, should we chance upon my dear friend.” Celeste cast her eyes to the side. Another stall carried bolts of fabric that shimmered under the sun. Such vibrant colors! She’d have never imagined them in the time spent here on Plant! Wherever did they come from? She made to consider a purchase but shook her head against the thought. A glance back to her guide back through this outpost, in time to witness a contract tossed away in nonchalance. The saiyan’s disgruntled manner only furthered when the blond hurried after this hero, her boots crunching the contract into the dirt.

The witch would skip several steps to keep in time with the taller man and his strides, peering up at him once she had found his periphery again. ”I find it rather curious of a notion to bring up if anything. Should I quiz you on humans to compensate – or is there a deeper purpose to this fascinating tale?” Celeste hummed her discontent even as her lips pricked with a smirk. Was their search likely to bear fruit? She doubted it, but she supposed there could at least be some fun to had in the meantime. And was that not reward enough in itself?

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Fukushu

Celeste did her best to summarize to the best of her ability making mental cliff notes as they went along, cataloguing away any important information as was her wont. Mercenaries of a war-torn planet, savage killers, thugs for hire, it pretty much entailed everything the average mid-boss for any cheese cyberpunk movie might have back on Earth. Maybe one of those nerdy directors had a vacation to this Hera? It was a dystopian masterpiece painted vividly against the backdrop of her imagination, for all she could do to try and picture this heran’s words.

The witch had to question his comparison to the saiyans, and how his tone implied to paint them in a better light simply for the structural monarchy, however stable it was. From what she knew of these space faring warriors, they weren’t so much different than how Fukushu had decided to detail his own people. They were crash, rude, and downright thirstful when it came to hostilities. Celeste rather wondered at times whether or not the buffoon who dragged her here even had saiyan blood in his veins, simply for how unorthodox he behaved by comparison. It was a stark contrast to her fables, which almost seemed too real at times nowadays to question the fiction behind it all.

It was true, there were similarities between the two, however neither were a very positive source of inspiration when it came down to it in her eyes. Celeste said nothing, merely kept time as they approached the fruit stand, keeping her peace as Fu made to inspect the delicacies. She would catch the one tossed to her with surprise, nodding after some hesitance in thanks. It was rather thoughtful, given her own lunch had found the trash earlier, there was no denying her stomach was regretting the decision.

The blond would pause mid-bite when the heran made to comment on her eyes, shooting him a glance over the familiarity she felt over it all. The way he leaned in would remind her all too much of the day she met a certain demon, near the depths of the Furnace of Eight Divisions. He too had made comment on their color, however unique they might have been in comparison to other girls her age. Celeste doubted either of them got out enough to glean the evidence, but there was no denying the scarlet irises had drawn an interest from the hero for hire.

”Birth.”

The answer was rather abrupt, and given bluntly, but it was the cold hard truth. One she felt compelled to snicker over, but resisted the temptation to instead bite into the pear. It was rather sour, far more than any variety found back on Earth. Celeste wasn’t sure what to make of the taste, and so sat on the fence with her decision about whether to like it or not. A brief inspection of the bitten flesh, before she would regard Fukushu again, tilting her head to the question of her trust. The witch would let her lips spread wide, before taking another bite of her snack.

”Have I given any reason to doubt me?”

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Fukushu

If there was anything Celeste was truly gifted with other than magic, it could be said among her former peers that the bitchy blond bombshell was rather skilled when it came to delivering the truth. Or rather, one that best suited her needs. There was no shortage of relief to have the heran direct his interests elsewhere, given how she felt about anyone knowing of her existence in the bleak light of its bitter truth. Was there anything to gain if this mercenary, or any other, possibly knew what she really was? Nay. There were no need for further questions, more complications in her eyes, where they could so easily be avoided. The girl had to hum with amusement, taking the comment of her allure to heart as she made to toss away the snack in passing.

The spectacle of poses and taunts brought about some familiarity to a body building contest back home, something the city dwellers seemed to take an interest in. It would appear this world held more similarities to Earth than she would realize, at least beyond first glimpse that was. The demonstration brought about a restrained smile that Celeste would do her best to hide. Though there was no mistaking her guide’s reaction to the performers and their routines. The explanation he gave, the look on his face, it told her enough just what he might have thought of such obnoxious warriors. Her humor would fade to the suggestion a hero in waiting may find themselves on that stage, warranting a frown from her in turn.

The witch opened her mouth to speak on the matter, then turning her attention to the guard when Fukushu made to speak on their observations. She waited until his peace had been finished, once more turning her attention to the rambunctious fighters auctioning themselves off like prized stock. The blond had to consider what the heran mentioned before, about being a hero for his people, not just for himself. Maybe it was something she too might have confessed to having wanted at a time. The witch thought back to a vivid expanse of memories, distorted in time, pictures of vague recollections at best. Celeste weighed what it had cost to be able to stand here at all, of the prices paid in her attempts to right the wrongs, to be that hero.

The girl would consider what prices this man would be willing to pay to see this vision of his come to pass. She considered the lengths Dion might go in order to see his thirst for power realized, or how far the curse may drive him. ”Do you believe in your work?” Celeste’s lips twitched with a simper. ”Fighting. Justice. Protecting the innocent. Does it not take its toll?”

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Fukushu

The truth was really starting to come out it seemed. At least, when Celeste had made her inquiry of the mercenary’s conviction, she half-expected a rather simpler answer, direct to the point. Though when he made motion to take seat on a nearby bench, something under that composure was beginning to falter, the witch gaining a growing suspicion she just uncorked a whole bottle of untouched ghosts. It was hard to tell with souls whose hues fluctuated so vibrantly when distressed, certainly where hired guns were concerned. Guarded emotions and scars often belied darker intentions. It was only practical that she would make to gauge the resolve of this valiant heart, should she place an inkling of trust in him.

The witch listened keenly to his words, taking a seat next to him so as not to further tire her legs. Tales of a past that could very well be compared to her own in shades of darkness, albeit much more forgiving circumstances. At least this soul had a choice to make of his future, from what she could ascertain, even if it was thrust upon him since the beginning. He was out here fighting to make a difference for those back home, if it was still there, not just himself. The blond estimated that’s where their similarities may have ended, for he sounded more like some beloved freedom fighter, not a decried heretic of a home that no longer wanted them.

Celeste was silent when he made to kick over the trash in anger, merely watching on as the contents made to spill carelessly across the earth. Well, that was certainly quite the temper – she would have to watch out for that in the future. An ear provided further told tale of his disappointment in this trip to Plant, his frustrations of an endless cycle of perpetuating grief and toil. A fair enough answer she supposed, if ever one was to be given. It sufficed far more than any answer she was likely to receive from a hero who remained disillusioned about their purpose in life. At least this man recognized the suffering needed to ensure his dream stayed alive.

Celeste could appreciate that kind of dedication to truth.

The witch would reach out to gently place a hand on Fu’s closest shoulder, offering him a gentle smile in an effort to soothe his anger. ”That’s all I wished to know.” She would turn her attention back to the seasoned saiyan observing the stage competition, giving a subtle nod in prompt. ”Now, should we start with him – or try the pub?”

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Fukushu