Haupien examined the symbol on his armor. As far as clues went, it was a great start. It was technically possible it was some mark of the designer, but he had only seen similar insignia on Saiyan armor when it was a personal touch. They could visit the local experts on genealogy, sure not recognize most noble symbols. Most family’s didn’t simply have a design to call their own, so surely there was some significance to the house he came from. If they had no luck there, perhaps they could visit libraries- did Saiyans have such a thing?- or wherever else data was preserved. If nothing else worked, visiting the so called Nobles of Plant might find some recognize. It might not be easy, but it was enough for them to- them. He only now realized that he had imagined him helping him. He shook his head to himself. He had no time to be helping random strangers when he had no idea how long it would take- not to mention it held no promise of pay.
He listened to Durians’s description of his life journey. It confirmed his suspicions, that he hadn’t been raised within society, although it was hard to tell what he had done on ear. He didn’t understand what he was asking when he simply said sword, but he could guess when he said killer.
”Not kill for work. Fight for work. Battles. Wars. Combat. Sometimes enemies die, but it job.” He thought he was beginning to get the hang of this form of communication.
Haupien claimed to be a fighter, not a killer, though from Durian's point of view he couldn't see much difference. The Konatsian even admitted that sometimes people would die, presumably by his own hand. Durian laughed at the answer, hoping to point out the contradiction to Haupien. "You kill? Killer. Killers fight too. And fighters kill. You're both?" Maybe he was simply trying to protect his own innocence; Durian could understand why. Where he grew up you had to kill to survive, but in a more civilized world killing must have been frowned upon.
He also claimed to have fought in wars, which brought Durian's memory back to why he had left Plant in the first place. Even out in the wilds, the battle raging over Hatchi had reached him. Not wanting to get caught up in that sort of mess he decided to grab the first pod he could and escape, eventually finding his way to Earth. Now Durian wondered if Haupien had played some part in that.
"You... fight in Wars? Hatchi war? Dangerous. Had to leave." Durian didn't really understand the conflict, nor did he really know what had happened when it came to an end. He would travel to Hatchi after his business in the capital was over, whether it be to a ruin or an answer he would find he didn't yet know.
He smiled at his response. Kill a few times and suddenly you’re a killer, eh? He supposed it was true. His job title wasn’t killer but it certainly lead to it. “Yes. Killer. Job isn’t killer- professional soldier, fighter. For money. But I kill.” He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. Killing didn’t bother him, never really did. But he didn’t usually think of himself as a killer. Is that what others thought of him- in their eyes, did it taint him somehow?
“Well,” he responded to the next line of questioning. There wasn’t any good way to explain what had happened to him, so he kept it simple. “I came to Plant for war. Missed war. But yes- dangerous. Super Saiyans,” he added, waving his hands for emphasis. He felt like he was supposed to say something more, describe the mythology of them, their might, their power- but they had never been his legends. By the time he found out about them, they were nothing more than fact.
”What you do? For work?” He asked. He looked ahead of them, their journey stretching ahead of them. Maybe he didn’t have a job. Maybe he simply existed, living in the world. It sounded kind of nice.
A killer for hire. A dangerous man. Durian supposed he should be afraid, but by now his defenses were thoroughly dismantled. He didn't feel at all scared of Haupien, despite the gulf in power between them. At least the Konatsian had a reason for doing what he did, and there was no money to be made from killing Durian. "Money. You have?" He didn't look the most wealthy to Durian, but that sword must have cost a pretty penny judging on it's design.
He couldn't tell the boy much about the war, though the term Super Saiyan was brought up. Durian had never heard the term before, but it sounded ominous. Maybe he could ask a proper Saiyan about it once they made it to the capital, assuming it hadn't already slipped the boy's mind by then. He already had so much on his plate, he wasn't sure if he could keep a myth on his mind too.
His next question had Durian laughing so hard he nearly fell over. "Work? Ha!" It was just like one of his kind-- an adult, to think that everyone had a job. "Why work? Have food. Have fun." The jungles back on Earth had provided Durian with everything he could have wanted, aside from maybe a few answers about his past. But working would help him with those either. Durian couldn't ever possibly imagine himself working, but that was how most sixteen year old's probably thought.
He had money, but he has never had a lot. Considering the danger of his job, most would have guessed him rich, but somehow his stockpile was always worn down. Right now, especially so, considering he hadn’t actually taken on the job he had planned on taking when he came to this planet. “Some money. Not rich. Have been on… vacation. Break from work,” he responded. Most people remembered their vacations, but it was close enough.
why work he now asked… a few answers came to mind, the default ones. Pay the bills. Food. Purpose. Contribute to society. But even he wasn’t satisfied by it. Really, the answer was because that’s what he had been taught to do. But he wanted to try to at least convince someone, even himself, other worries. “Money. Don’t need hunt food, buy it. Something to do. Hard work improves you. Makes you stronger. Elevates you-“ is elevate an advanced word?- “And when you work enough, stop work but still have money. Long vacation, life vacation. Retirement.” He hadn't convinced himself but maybe Durian would think he had an okay reason for doing what he did. This conversation was definitely making him hope that Vocado’s plan included one large haul.
A shame Haupien wasn't a wealthy man. Perhaps Durian could have convinced him to help search for his family, but he didn't want to burden the Konatsian any more than he already had. The hybrid already had his issues with speech which were plain to anyone who tried communicating with the boy. A little bit of cash might have helped smooth things over, but alas he would have to do without. Maybe he could sell the remains of his pod? It'd be harder travel, but that could be a path worth considering.
Back to the topic of work, Haupien tried his best to explain to Durian why it was he did what he did, and why Durian might want to as well. The teenager tried to take things in as best he could, but as always whenever someone used that many words in a row he struggled. Pausing to repeat what he had heard over in his head a few times, Durian still couldn't quite understand what it was Haupien was saying.
"Buy, not hunt? Why? Hunting fun. Train muscles. Fill stomach." Retirement wasn't really a concept that Durian had ever encountered before. "Re-tir-mint?" From his description, it sounded as though one day the fighting might stop, so that Haupien could take a break. That definitely wasn't Durian's style. "Hunt. Hunt forever. And ever." That was how he saw things. He enjoyed it, so why would he ever stop. "Don't like work? Stop now?"
Despite having mentioned the war a few times now, Durian hadn't asked the all important question yet. "War. What side is Haupien?"
He nodded at his response. It was a fair point- if you liked to hunt, and that’s all you needed, why work? He didn’t like the idea of having to find his food day to day, or not engaging with the rest of society, but it couldn’t be that bad. “Well,” he said once again. “Hunting can be work. If you’re good at something, you can make it work. Then other things you want- you can get with money from work. Money can get a lot of things. Very useful. Even information- would help find your family,” he offered. He didn’t know much about Durian, what he wanted- if he even wanted for anything at all- but he knew it could help work his current task. “And work can make you even stronger. I’m strong- not super strong- but work makes me strong. Fight other strong people, get strong.” To others this aspect of life held much more appeal than to Haupien, but it was starting to become a draw even to him.
”Haupien no side. Fight for money. Whoever pays Haupien, my side. Missed war so no side,” he answered. He wished he had the answer himself- who would he have ended up with? If the right opportunity came, would Mayze have fought for the Tuffles? Everything in the way Haupien lived told him to act for his own benefit, but he couldn’t imagine facing down Mayze on the battlefield.
Durian had a frustrating history with money. He recalled having to steal parts to try and repair his ship, not having the funds to do so legitimately. He didn't like stealing, but he didn't want to be stuck on Earth forever either. A job could come in handy then... though the boy lacked skills in almost every department. If it required speaking then he'd probably be ruled out on the spot. "Durian... don't do much. Only hunt. And these." Durian held up a few of the things he had brought with him, including his blaster and destron cannister.
If he could find someone to pay him to hunt? Maybe he'd have to consider a job then. But then he'd have to find someone to pay him, learn the rules of employment, figure out where he should spend his money... everything was so complicated out in the big cities. The thought of trying to do all that kind of made his head hurt. He liked to train, he liked to hunt and he liked to work on the gadgets he put together out of scrap parts. Let other people handle the more complicated stuff.
"Durian strong. Haupien super strong. Who stronger than Haupien?" The Konatsian's power level was as high as he could ever remember sensing. Durian's power sensing abilities were rather basic; he couldn't precisely understand how strong any one was, so beyond a certain point they all felt the same. It was hard to believe there was anyone stronger out there. The thought was both scary and exciting for the young Tuffle. Maybe one of those super strong people could help him find his family? Or maybe they were his family?
"No side? Haupien... go capital for work? Who Haupien work now?"
He listened to Durian’s words. “Lots of people. Space is full of strong people. Saiyans, others. Too many,” he said. “But Haupien get stronger. Better. Will be as strong as them.” He wasn’t entirely convinced of this last point, but it felt good to say. Why shouldn’t he? It had been some time since his powers had suddenly jumped, but he was constantly learning, improving. Able to wield the power he did have even better, and any further power he would receive. “Durian strong. Hunt well. Fight well? Maybe fight for work- Durian hunt, not use money, when need money, fight,” he suggested. If one didn’t have much need of money, mercenary work would certain fill that vacuum quickly. It didn’t seem much to him, but he was spending quickly, and had expenses related to his work. For someone with low needs like Durian? One job every once in a while would be plenty.
Durian now asked him about his current work. He didn’t want to go into the full details- assuming Durian would understand- even though he felt far more trust for the “boy” than their time together warranted, some things were not lightly shared. “Now Haupien work for Saiyans. Waiting to start. Off planet- go back to Konats,” he answered.
Not only were there people stronger than Haupien, but apparently there were 'lots' of them too. Durian thought about laughing and shaking his head at that notion, but the Konatsian appeared serious. So many people were so much stronger than the boy, who had stagnated thanks to months of fighting the same old beasts over and over again. New challenges were required to grow stronger, while Durian had allowed himself to grow content.
He was mad. He had to run away from Plant to protect himself, and he always thought that when he returned he'd be strong enough to face the dangers that forced him to flee. Yet the gap between himself and others had only grown in that time, as Durian had forgotten his original purpose in exchange for a few comfortable months. He needed help. Finding his family was about more than just knowing his origin; it was about guidance. It was about finding someone he could trust who would show him the way.
"Durian... fight same? Every day. Grow bored. Easy fights." He felt ashamed. What if his family were Saiyans? Would they want to take such a weakling under their wing? "Fight some. Not best." Time to shift the conversation away from himself; to anything else. Thankfully Haupien mentioned more work for himself. "Konats. Home? Fight your home?"
Was Durian… ashamed? Maybe he was Saiyan after all. He listened to what he had to say, not preparing a response before the topic returned to his own work. He inhaled, trying to stop himself from getting involved. Mercenary work was working for yourself. Doing what gained the most profit, taking the pay of those with the largest coffers. It wasn’t charity, it certainly wasn’t picking up strangers who fell out of the sky and could barely speak. But here he was, in the middle of nowhere, walking the direction opposite his destination.
“Right,” he began. “Going… home. Not to fight Konats. To… I don’t know. Help maybe? Not a war. But maybe fight.” He hadn’t really concerned himself with the details of his assignment. To prove himself to Vocado, he had proved himself to Edamame, and would go with him to his assignment on Konats. He didn’t think they weee going to war with Konats, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Even if they claimed not too, maybe it was simply preparation for an invasion. He had tried his best to avoid too many thoughts about the mission, but in doing so had blinded himself. He should have been smarter.
Turning to Durian, he thought through his simple phrasing carefully. “Durian want stronger? Not same fights- Durian fight others. Durian stronger. Durian fight for work. Not always work, Durian don’t need lots of money, but money good. Fight others, get stronger, get money. All good.” He didn’t know why he was so determined to help him out, but he couldn’t fight it.
Haupien seemed confused on what it was he was trying to say. Durian couldn't tell if the Konatsian was genuine or if he was simply trying to hide his true intentions. If he were going to war with his own people, Durian could understand why he might be ashamed of that. The Tuffle boy had watched Saiba-wolf packs in his youth. He saw them fight with each other, and protect their wounded brothers from other packs. Even he understood the sin that was kinslaying.
But maybe it was just something that was beyond his comprehension. Mercenary work sounded kind of complicated. What happened if you were working for one side, then someone else offered more? Was turning your back and betraying your first contractor the 'right' thing to do? And what if they're paying you to kill someone you like? What then? "Haupien fighter. Kill for money. Not sleep or eat for money." The way the boy saw it, if Haupien was going somewhere, bodies would follow. But maybe Haupien was trying to convince himself more than he was Durian.
"Stronger?" Durian hesitated. "Durian... fear." He had more could have said, but the words were struggling to come out at this point. He wanted to get stronger, if for no other reason than to dispel his fear. But that meant risks. "Wolves easy. Kaiju easy. People stronger. Haupien super strong. Others more strong?... Want to be strong."
Durian made a fair point. He wasn’t going to Konats to vacation, he was going for work- and work meant fighting. It could be for a benevolent purpose, but he couldn’t say for sure. It didn’t bother him but it was… a thing. Something he had to acknowledge, not something he could shirk from like he wanted to. He couldn’t keep ducking his head, pretending that he wasn’t in fact about to travel to Konats for mercenary work as if tricking himself would somehow change his future.
Durian talked about being weak, about being afraid. Wolves and- Kaiju???- he had triumphed over, but people were another affair. Somewhere deep inside of him he had killed that feeling, it only resurfacing in exceptionally rare times, but he understood it at the least.
“Haupien help,” he blurted out before his conscious brain was able to realize what he was about to say and stop it. Well, there was no going back now. “Haupien make Durian strong. Stronger. Super strong. Join Haupien work- fight people. I help, protect. Safe, but make strong. Together.” It made no sense to commit himself like this, but the words were coming out of his mouth, not caring for his attempt at logical superseding emotion.
Durian didn't expect what happened next. Out of nowhere Haupien offered to help Durian get stronger, by joining up with him for work. At first he wasn't quite sure what to say; did Haupien really think that a boy of his measly power would really be able to keep up with him and his friends? Durian didn't want to be any sort of burden, and with professional killers he couldn't say what sort of trouble he might get into if he couldn't complete the mission.
But there was another issue too. "Haupien fight for money? Durian... no money. Can't buy help." The whole concept of employment was still new to Durian, and he didn't quite know all of the ins and outs. All he really know about Haupien was that he fought for money, and he didn't have a single penny to his name. How was he to pay Haupien for this help?
There was also the prospect of trying to find his family. He couldn't say for sure, but he was pretty certain that he wasn't going to find any leads on Konats; not compared to what he might find on Plant. His family, whether than be on the Saiyan or the Tuffle side of the planet, were from here. His search had only just began. Did he really want to stop that now? It did sound like an adventure... he was conflicted. "Family. Home. Saiyans or Tuffles? Don't know. Want to find. Understand?"
He waited, his body tense. Not tense- excited, but fearful. Fearful that his offer would be accepted, that it would be denied. That he would be glad for a denial, and that he would be glad for an acceptance. He was in a rather mixed emotional state.
Finally, Durian answered. It wasn’t exactly a denial- more of a complicated, wrapped in some confusion. The nuances of speaking without the full extent of language was disrupting the conversation, but nothing that a long trek couldn’t fix.
”Durian no pay. Haupien help free. Durian work with Haupien, fight for work. Money. Durian help Haupien, Haupien help Durian.” He tried to justify it to himself. Durian was certainly capable, and an extra pair of hands meant an extra pay for any work they did. It was beneficial, not charity, he argued to himself.
”Konats soon. Durian look for family. Maybe find. Don’t find, come work. Make money, money help find. And make strong. Strong also help find,” he explained. He didn’t have an exact timetable, but he thought they still had some time before they- he- left. It was a solid plan, and money almost certainly would smooth it over.
Apr 6, 2024 1:21:15 GMT -5
Lottus: Friendly reminder for new folks to check the rules regarding art claims - AI Art is not accepted on Sparking for character sheets.
Apr 17, 2024 14:43:28 GMT -5
Lottus: Hey folks, got a new phone, but verification is preventing me from downloading Discord for now
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Dingo: I'll post what you've said here up in the discord so it doesn't get missed!
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Yakito: I am the #1 Tenrec hater (Striker will be struck)