Dion's Bizarre Adventure (Chomei)

    Blissfully ignorant to his eyes offering a true view into the inner reaches of his soul, Dion continued to down shot after shot, beginning to lose a little more of his inhibition with every bit of alcohol inhaled. It had been a long while since he ever had cause to drink himself to such a degree, but the bartender supposed that if there ever were opportune circumstances, it was these ones. 

    Even despite the easygoing nature of the days that had gone and went in light of his return to Plant, the underlying problems that propelled Dion into the downward spiral that was his pre-hiatus self boiled underneath the inebriated young man's posture. In fact, if anything, they were only compounded- his lack of strength in light of the universe moving on without him in a power-scaling sense simultaneously frightening him and disheartening his already weakened will to work for greater strength. Initially, Dion's delving into the corruption that lay within, and his clash with Zhalla had all been in the name of proving his worth, or potential to be worth something, in regard to combat. He had lost so much because of his ineptitude to protect what he held near and dear, and Dion proved desperate to try and see that it wasn't too late to bridge the gap that lay between him and the threats that loomed over the horizon.
    
    Instead, what he got was even more heartbreak. The corruption twisting Dion's mind and body beyond what he was ever meant to push himself through, and the after-effects of playing with that fire burning him nearly to cinders. He left so much pain in wake of the path that he took when plagued by the primordial energies that even now still flowed through his veins, and the guilt proved to be a greater weight than any of the injuries he had sustained. It took Dion months to gain the gall to even entertain the thought of a return, and even as he was in the process of crossing the stars in his gifted return pod back toward home, he had more than his fair share of second thoughts.

    Most of them were riddled with shame. After all, how could he not feel ashamed for leaving both friends and family hanging in the circumstances he had been partially responsible for? It was a coward's move, and Dion knew it. It was partially why it took him so long to come back, the fear of being rejected because of his actions sending him into self-imposed exile much longer than he would have liked. 

    Eventually, the somber Saiyan found his footing, with the help of a desert-based adventure and a friendly face or two, and thus was able to return home in spite of all he had done. Dion needed to fix things, and he wasn't about to let the ones he cared about the most pick up after the mess he made. 

    Still, even with the right intentions in mind, Dion found it hard to move past what had gotten him stuck in the first place. And such inability to move onward began to bubble up toward the surface, his demeanor changing from one of thoughtful reflection to dejected self-exasperation. 

    Groaning, Dion was about to order himself the whole bottle of Leviathan Venom to help cope, when all the sudden a different type of drink was set down in front of him. Did he order something amidst his drunken haze without even realizing it? 

    His question was answered when he heard an affirming grunt in the seat next to him. Turning his head, Dion's eyes were greeted by a hulk of a man sitting on his left side. Bearded, bulky, yet somehow gentle-looking, the older man appeared to have been the one to order him the second drink. Was he always this kind, or perhaps was it the charitability that came with being tipsy showing through?

    No, this was something else altogether. As Chomei did with Dion, the younger man's eyes sought out his newfound companion's own, and soon enough, an expression of understanding came upon his face. He too could see the underlying agony that laid just beneath the almond-shaped eyes that met his own. It was a pain that he could feel he knew all too well, and so, wordlessly, Dion nodded- taking the Saiba Stout in hand and raising it in cheers to him in response. 

    Near gulping it down, the woozy warrior's breath left his mouth in a shuddery shiver. Taking a moment to regain some semblance of composure, his eyes returned to lay on nothing straight ahead once again, but his words echoed clear (albeit slightly trembling) for the other man to hear.

    "...Misery loves company, isn't that the saying..?"

    "The sadness that lies behind your gaze...it's like looking into a mirror, almost."

    Emboldened by the lack of inhibition brought on by their mutual inebriation, Dion struck out at the heart of the matter between the two as he spoke, stating simply in a questioning tone,
    
    "Tell me, friend. What has the abyss shown to you, then?" 
    
PL: 20,000 - WC: 860 - TWC: 1734


    In spite of all the two had, and were currently working themselves through, Dion managed a laugh at Chomei's reaction to their first initial interaction. For once, his sincerity and sudden poetic nature when drunk were finally challenged by someone who remained grounded even when greatly inebriated. Most people chose to entertain his philosophical inquiries with more ponderous statements, but this man refused to do so- a quality that drew Dion's attention more and more as they continued on with their conversation.

    Initially, a wave of shame came over the bartender- Dion hoped he wasn't interrupting some sorely needed quiet time for his newfound companion. But, as the words began to tumble out all by themself from Chomei's mouth, something told Dion the two of them needed that little extra push. His eyes widening, and then slowly narrowing again out of understanding, the Saiyan listened to the young man's miseries at length- being shocked once again at just how universal tragedy often ended up being.

    The feelings of inadequacy and incompetency were feelings that Dion especially sympathized with. He felt as though he was listening to his own story being told through the words coming out of Chomei's mouth. Their struggles were so similar, yet simultaneously so very different- Enough to divulge their paths to where they both stood now. The trust between the two tortured individuals seemingly strengthened as time went on, Chomei's shortcomings unceasingly mirroring those Dion found in himself as his tale unraveled little by little with every sip of liquid courage taken.

    So many things to go over, yet so little time. What with Earth being apparently ravaged to the point of lacking a moon, the appearance of their shared experiences with the Tuffle woman Cheri, giant, gargantuan monsters wreaking havoc from city to city- and yet Dion couldn't help but focus on one singular thing. The one thing that continued to tie the two young men together.
        
    And that was their weakness. Their failures. All of their hard work going uncompensated, and instead replaced by more and more mountains to scale by their lonesome. The peak of power had heightened to increasingly maddening levels in Dion's self-imposed exile, and it was a peak that both Saiyans present appeared to have experienced struggling to climb. Perhaps under different circumstances Dion at least would have judged him for having left his home when it was in its time of need, but...

    ...Dion had run too.

    So how could he rightfully judge him? 

    The answer was, he couldn't. As the other man's trauma dump began to wind down, Dion could see nothing but himself staring right back at him. Another unselfish individual beat down over, and over, and over again by circumstances seemingly outside of his own control. 

    He wanted to say something encouraging. He wanted so badly to tell him that there was a light at the end of the tunnel the two were traversing, to let him know that there was hope for the two of them yet. 

    But he was still looking for that light himself. So, in place of some superficial reassurance, Dion chose to oblige the other man's request. And as he took one more large swig of both the stout and the venom at his disposal, the story he had been waiting five months to tell came tumbling out all at once.
    
    "Well, it's nothing grandiose, but, some could call it heartbreaking."

    "A couple of months back, I got into a fight with my little sister. At the time, she was a helluva lot stronger than me, but I thought I had good reason to be angry with her- she and her friend had gotten into a bit of a situation on Namek and thought it smart to deal with the issue all on their own. I thought she was foolish to pull such a risky move all by herself."

    A pained expression accompanied the strain that rang out in every word. This was the first time he ever spoke at length about his conflict with Zhalla to anyone without abridging any part of it, and it hurt just as much as he thought it would.
    
    "Words were exchanged, and eventually, it led to us trading blows- leaving me worse for wear afterward."

    "Following the fight, I went to a mutual friend of ours- only to get myself mixed up in something I know good and Hell well I shouldn't have been messing with. But, that friend was in pain, and, I couldn't ignore that. Heh."

    He took a moment to clear his throat.
    
    "And in spite of that, I only caused more grief. The kid had this, sickness, and it eventually spread to me when I tried fixing it myself. It was magically vicious, and when I say magically, I mean magically. It tore my whole world asunder."

    "I wasn't, me. It's like someone took the worst parts of me and magnified them by ten. The fear of failing both friends and family because of my lack of power, my unyielding paranoia of the past catching up with my present and future, the need to shut myself away from the world around me out of some idea that I could somehow find my way to the solution I was so sorely desperate for...it all got so much worse..."

    Rambling he was, but, Dion didn't care anymore. The torrent of words and hurt raged on like a tropical storm. 
    
    "In my lust for greater power, in my search to find a way to prove to everyone, and to myself, that I wasn't just some deadweight who couldn't be counted upon when the time called for it- I left nothing but destruction in my wake. Sure, I saw an increase in my strength, but at what cost? The ones who I wanted to protect the most ironically were the ones that paid for it. And in the end, I chose to run, run from my problems and the shame that I felt rather than face it like a man, because even after all of that, I was still what I worked."

    It was at this point Dion would realize the streaks of tears now streaming down his face. He made no effort to wipe them, however, staring unblinkedly forward as he pressed forward, doing what he wanted to months earlier and facing his trauma head on.
    
    "My sister, my best friend, and the girl I've been in love with since we were kids- all of them, I ran away from because of my own insecurity. How could I face them after what I did, you know? I-I couldn't. Hell, I hurt a kid in light of my actions- a kid. How in the Hell do I make up for that? And yet..."

    A harsh laugh left his lips as he finally moved to wipe away some of the tears. Downing the last of both of his drinks one after the other, the sting helped to move Dion into speaking again.
    
    "And yet, here I am. Guess you could say I'm a stubborn bastard, haha..."

    Gesturing for the bartender to bring the both of them at the very least several more rounds, Dion's gaze finally moved toward his impromptu drinking partner as he spoke, saying in a lower, but all the more sympathetic tone, "I, I don't want to play the pity party. I don't want to assume more than what I've heard, either, b-but.."

    "...It might seem strange, b-but I, I find it comforting, actually."

    "That someone feels what I've been dying from for so, so long, and still finds a way to keep going on. I-it's, reassuring."

    Raising his recently refilled glass, Dion held it toward Chomei with a much drunker look in his gaze, saying in an increasingly slurred tone, "Here's to, *hic*, weak-asses trying to not be weak-asses. May Kami save us all."

    He'd wait, and wait, and wait for however long it would take for Chomei to clink his glass with him, and once he did, he'd down the entire thing in one fell swoop with concerning speed. Hiccuping once more, a more curious glint appeared in his gaze as he looked at Chomei again with rose tinted cheeks, asking, "Y-yknow stranger, I-I never got your name, or maybe I forgot it, who knows...Y-you mind if we trade them? Mine ain't worth much, b-but you might like to know it.."

    The now safely intoxicated Saiyan put a shaky hand out to, well, shake.
    
    "The name's, Dion, Dion Hofferson. Or Haddock, depending on the day."

    "What do you go by, friend?"
    
PL: 20,000 - WC: 1440 - TWC: 3174


    While it was kind of Chomei to think Dion was that charitable in his drunken state, the sudden arrival of more Saiba-stouts in front of the two was not of the bartender's doing. In fact, as his drinking partner looked on at the whole new round of drinks that was set upon them, Dion was wondering if Chomei had ordered more for the duo in light of their shared difficulties in their lives. 

    Not one to reject such niceties, the young man sluggishly grabbed at the bottle closest to him, popping the cap off and bringing it to his lips before being cut off by the violent slamming of his newfound friend's palm into his spine. Coughing a bit from the impact, Dion found the whole thing quite comedic, laughing warmly (and drunkedly) as he pulled the other youth into a nicely snug side-hug, stating in his own slurred speech, "Cho? Like, *hic*, the Chinese food? Or is that, Pho, *hic*, I, I can't ever remember it exactly, been too long since I've had some good ol' fashioned Earthly foods, haha..."
    
    Eyes widening comedically at Chomei's secret codename, he made an overexaggerrated shushing motion with his slightly trembling pointer finger, struggling to keep his head on straight as he whispered in a similarly fashioned raspy murmer, "S-s-secret name?! C-can I have one, or is that like, illegal?? A-are you involved in, in illegal ACTIVITY!? I, I don't think I'd like that, no sir..."

    "... B-but theoretically, if, if I could have a nickname, I, I think you could call me, 'Wonderboy'! Yeah, Wonderboy, b-because that's what my girlfriend calls me- er, a-almost, girlfriend. I'll, I'll settle on that later."

    For now, the matters of the heart was trumped by the matters of the inebriated, and Dion continued to scarf down bottle after bottle after bottle of stout and spirit, his mind becoming more and more mush with every gulp. Amidst his wasted haze, however, something suspicious caught the young man's eye.

    From the corner of his vision, Dion noted a strange set of hooded individuals staring directly at the two-man party. Eyebrows raising slightly in concern, he watched as one of the spectators called on one of the many waiters wandering about the establishment and gestured toward the two at the bar. The waiter nodding, they passed into the kitchen behind the bar proper, coming out with yet another round of drinks apparently for the already well-wasted two.

    Part of him wanted to confront the two.

    The other was, already busy indulging in a fourth round of stout.

    Suddenly becoming very seriously, Dion took Chomei by the shoulders, bringing him inches away from his face as he said in a low, strained tone, "C-Cho, Dragon, listen to me- we cannot let any of this go to, *hic*, waste. That is LAW! It's ILLEGAL to WASTE all of this GOOD DRINK during an EVEN BETTER EVENING!"

     Grabbing two bottles at once now, Dion popped the caps off of them simultaneously, letting the liquid courage ride straight down his open maw as he cheered a warbled battle-cry- gesturing to Chomei with a nudge of the shoulder to dig in.

    If he was going to be given the means of self-destruction for a night, he might as well see how long it took before he combusted. For curiosity's sake! Totally no underyling trauma there. No. Not at all.
    
PL: 20,000 - WC: 571 - TWC: 3745