Post by Dion on Jan 13, 2023 8:26:46 GMT -5
This was it.
He was home.
Or, close to it, at least.
For the last few months or so, Dion Haddock had been MIA- neither family nor friend knew of his whereabouts, and for good reason. Amidst his absence, the torturous conditions that had thrust him into the impulsive decision-making that drew him away from all he held dear in the first place continued to torment him all throughout. His physical and mental status deteriorating to debilitating levels, and only having just recently been brought back from the brink of self-destruction.
At least, in a mental sense. The ragged Saiyan's physical wellbeing was still incredibly suspect, with the magical malignancy contracted from Pankaa still rumbling underneath the surface, and precisely why he found himself in the grand capital of his proud people's planet once more in the first place.
Wearing nothing but some simple road leathers and a large, hooded cloak, Dion had quite a long walk from where he initially crash landed alongside the outskirts of the capital all the way to the palace doors. With every step taken he could feel his skin flaking off of him, ashes to the wind as he too floated throughout the streets of Sadala like a withering, lost soul. His breath shaky, shallow, but still audible as he continued to push himself forward as best as he could.
As much as he had once wanted to, Dion had too much to live for to die on the streets of a planet that didn't necessarily welcome him in the first place.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, the battered battler readjusted the hood on his head, eyes staring desperately at the grandiose building that now loomed in the distance- the Saiyan Palace. While he didn't get to keep up at all with most goings-on in the world that he left, one revelation gave him some semblance of a chance at salvation within the palace walls.
Amara.
How poetic, that one of the people that gave him a second chance at life would now have the opportunity to save his. Dion originally was going to try and go to some back-alley doctor of the niche variety upon arriving on Plant in order to sort out whatever was causing his still frail physical faculty, but after some street-side gossip exposed him to what had happened with the whole Hatchi incident, there was nowhere else he could possibly even think of turning to instead besides his childhood friend.
Besides, he owed her a meeting after all.
Still, even as the Saiyan shakily began the home stretch to the palace's front doors, it all still seemed so surreal to the young man. Amara, Queen? Wasn't that what she had spent nearly her whole life running away from? Why take the responsibility upon her shoulders now? Was it out of necessity? Had she been threatened by some powers beyond the curtain and thus had this duty thrust upon her in light of it? It made Dion feel very conflicted to say the least.
Even so, there weren't many others who he'd trust to rule over the current people of Plant. Amara was still Amara after all. And if there was anything he could be sure of, it was that she did care about the wellbeing of others.
Or, at least, that she knew what happens when those in power don't, and thus hoped she would do all that she could to prevent the same from happening again.
The only way to know for sure though, was to see her. Which was a hurdle Dion now struggled with accomplishing right at the steps of the palace gates. His body finally giving out from underneath him, his fragile figure colliding into the pavement below with a sickening thud.
Straining to even keep his head straight, Dion's eyes looked upwards at the doors in front of him, an anguished expression painting his features as he pounded a fist into the step he found himself laid across. Tears threatening to form, he stifled a cry as he crawled, inch by inch, toward the last thing between him and getting the care that he may not have deserved, but needed.
"Amara...Please..."
He was home.
Or, close to it, at least.
For the last few months or so, Dion Haddock had been MIA- neither family nor friend knew of his whereabouts, and for good reason. Amidst his absence, the torturous conditions that had thrust him into the impulsive decision-making that drew him away from all he held dear in the first place continued to torment him all throughout. His physical and mental status deteriorating to debilitating levels, and only having just recently been brought back from the brink of self-destruction.
At least, in a mental sense. The ragged Saiyan's physical wellbeing was still incredibly suspect, with the magical malignancy contracted from Pankaa still rumbling underneath the surface, and precisely why he found himself in the grand capital of his proud people's planet once more in the first place.
Wearing nothing but some simple road leathers and a large, hooded cloak, Dion had quite a long walk from where he initially crash landed alongside the outskirts of the capital all the way to the palace doors. With every step taken he could feel his skin flaking off of him, ashes to the wind as he too floated throughout the streets of Sadala like a withering, lost soul. His breath shaky, shallow, but still audible as he continued to push himself forward as best as he could.
As much as he had once wanted to, Dion had too much to live for to die on the streets of a planet that didn't necessarily welcome him in the first place.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, the battered battler readjusted the hood on his head, eyes staring desperately at the grandiose building that now loomed in the distance- the Saiyan Palace. While he didn't get to keep up at all with most goings-on in the world that he left, one revelation gave him some semblance of a chance at salvation within the palace walls.
Amara.
How poetic, that one of the people that gave him a second chance at life would now have the opportunity to save his. Dion originally was going to try and go to some back-alley doctor of the niche variety upon arriving on Plant in order to sort out whatever was causing his still frail physical faculty, but after some street-side gossip exposed him to what had happened with the whole Hatchi incident, there was nowhere else he could possibly even think of turning to instead besides his childhood friend.
Besides, he owed her a meeting after all.
Still, even as the Saiyan shakily began the home stretch to the palace's front doors, it all still seemed so surreal to the young man. Amara, Queen? Wasn't that what she had spent nearly her whole life running away from? Why take the responsibility upon her shoulders now? Was it out of necessity? Had she been threatened by some powers beyond the curtain and thus had this duty thrust upon her in light of it? It made Dion feel very conflicted to say the least.
Even so, there weren't many others who he'd trust to rule over the current people of Plant. Amara was still Amara after all. And if there was anything he could be sure of, it was that she did care about the wellbeing of others.
Or, at least, that she knew what happens when those in power don't, and thus hoped she would do all that she could to prevent the same from happening again.
The only way to know for sure though, was to see her. Which was a hurdle Dion now struggled with accomplishing right at the steps of the palace gates. His body finally giving out from underneath him, his fragile figure colliding into the pavement below with a sickening thud.
Straining to even keep his head straight, Dion's eyes looked upwards at the doors in front of him, an anguished expression painting his features as he pounded a fist into the step he found himself laid across. Tears threatening to form, he stifled a cry as he crawled, inch by inch, toward the last thing between him and getting the care that he may not have deserved, but needed.
"Amara...Please..."
PL: 55,600 (Energy Setting flavored as bodily weakness sets it down to 20,000) - WC: 719 - TWC: 719