In Pursuit of Closure

    As Pom weighed his options, he shook his head. These clients were too particular about the state of their product that it would be too difficult for him to transport it. He’d have no choice but to just pick the thing up and fly it back to the drop-off point; they’d at least given him the luxury of having that. He strapped the rifle to his back before kneeling down to lift the beast’s corpse, but moved no further. He could sense someone nearby, but that was it; only the presence of a powerful ghost.
    Remaining low to the ground, he scanned over the landscape. And then he lifted his gaze up, searching over the bluffs until he laid his eyes on the ghost in question. There stood the Maestro, figure as imposing as ever. But Pom wasn’t worried about himself to be afraid of Maxsuz; no, all he wondered was what he could possibly want from him. 
    Pom straightened up, turning fully to face him, shielding his eyes from the sun. ”The Maestro.” He flatly extended the syllables, “Just what have I done this time around to receive this honor?” Pom’s tone was almost sarcastic, raising his brows and tilting his head to the side. “If you’re here to talk to me about Rhuba, I’ve got nothing to say. And I don’t really wanna hear about him either. Sorry.”
    And even as he tried to seem uninterested and casual, his voice wavered slightly.

    Pom shrugged, and then he turned to lift the beast with a grunt and a harsh breath, taking it and himself into the air. “Ugh. But, uh, if there’s anything else you wanna talk about, or something you need.. I dunno, whatever. Go ahead.” He slung the beast over his shoulders as best he could, looking off towards the drop-off point. ”I’m busy right now, though. As you can see from the massive creature on my back. You can follow if you’re that desperate to talk.” 
    And then he floated off, taking pauses to adjust himself and account for the massive weight on his back. While the gesture might’ve come off as rude and flippant to Maxsuz, Pom was far too drained to care much about it. 

    Though the Maestro wouldn’t see, Pom rolled his eyes. Of course it was about Rhuba, everything was.
    But this admission made Pom stop dead in his tracks. He paused for a long moment before turning fully to the other man, keeping his expression neutral even though he was nearly bursting at the seams with unearthed feelings. “..Yeah. He tried to kill me too.” He said simply; and he couldn’t help it - the sad, dry chuckle escaping from him. “In hindsight, it was really, really stupid of me. Thinking I was more important to him than Parasitix, I mean.” He shook his head, staring at the ground.
    He must’ve remembered his job, or maybe he wanted to shake the awkwardness off, because he continued on his path. “I don’t know what happened. Or why it happened, or anything like that. It just.. did.” But Pom could never admit what had happened between him and Parasitix, he hardly managed to admit it to himself. “That pest wanted to use him like a ‘battery.’ Well, it’s already doing that. It makes him, uh.. kill and eat people.” Another shocking phrase said with no emotion, as if rehearsed a hundred times before. He shrugged, mentally pushing it all further away.
    “..But it’s not my problem anymore.” It was something he told himself over and over; but clearly, he didn’t believe it. He continued. “..I’d go back and kill that thing if I could, but I’m not strong enough. Not when Rhuba’s protecting it, or it’s protecting Rhuba.” 

    Pom was quiet for a while more, buried in his own thoughts. Allowing Parasitix the satisfaction from his fleeing ignited a new sort of hatred within him. And maybe he was jealous, maybe it would be a lie to say his want to fight it was completely to ‘save’ Rhuba. His selfish want collided with his undying protectiveness. He wanted to prove that parasite wrong while not letting it get under his skin, he wanted to rip it out while keeping Rhuba safe; things he wanted but couldn’t have all at once. 
    “..Is that all you wanted to talk about?” 

OOC: —

WC: 365 (1,175 total)

PL: 30,000 (base)

Current Resources: Scouter, Destron Flask (0/1), Battle Armor (0/1), Armor Lining (0/1)

KP: 6/6

MP: 0/6

HP: 0/320 (140% crit threshold)

Traits: Hardy, Restrained Might (A), Masochist (0/1), Provocation (0/1), Efficient Adaptation (0/2)

    He tipped his head back with a deep sigh. “I knew that thing was bad news ever since I heard about it. I trusted that he had it all under control, but..” Was Rhuba really born and bred to be a murderer? Even if he had his sweet, clueless moments, even if he walked through life like he’d never experienced even a cloud in the sky? Pom had been inside his head, but could never actually manage to understand his thoughts and memories. “I don’t know how many people he killed. A couple thousand at least, I don’t know.. And then some more when I found him.” He paused.
    Finally, he had to admit it out loud: “..I just wonder if I would’ve been next if I didn’t get out of there in time.” 

    At the Maestro’s suggestion, Pom laughed. Another rude gesture, but he was laughing at the irony of it all. How everything in his world flipped upside down and he still had to live in it. “So that’s it, huh? That’s how you get people into your Orchestra, indulging them in their sick power fantasies?” That would be why Rhuba had joined, and that would be why Pom had joined. He couldn’t help but laugh again, a breathy chuckle full of resignation. “..Sure. I’ll do it. But just know, after everything’s said and done, and I’ve got what I want, I’ll have nothing more to do with the Orchestra.” 
    Pom was dangerously teetering on the edge of his morality. The choice to join was so easy despite his only slightly questionable morals. Yes, the deserter and thief from Arcose now betraying every rule he knew for power. 
    ..For Rhuba?


    As they reached the destination, Pom landed down and handed the slain beast off to the men who could be considered ‘coworkers.’ He said a few words to them and received the latter half of his payment, pocketing it and flying back up to the Maestro. He looked a little less solemn now, hands casually in his pockets. “So, what’s the catch? Yeah, I already accepted the invitation, but what? Do I have to sell my soul to you now or something?”
    It was said like a joke, but it was also half genuine. He knew what he wanted wouldn’t be easy, because nothing ever was. But - for once - he was going to make an effort.
    ”I don’t care about anything else in the world. I just want to kill that piece of shit. Even if it kills him, too.”
    For Rhuba. 

    “..Yeah. Right.” But the parasite’s intentions didn’t matter. Not to Pom. It was endangering him and Rhuba, and probably everyone around them, too. And as much as he wanted to preserve his own life, he didn’t care about it. He was almost completely sure one or both of them would die if it came down to a fight. No, he was sure the parasite would kill him without a second thought, and Rhuba would just let it happen. How would he prevent that? Should he run? Should he fight? Despite the hatred and hurt he held, he didn’t want to kill or even fight Rhuba. But he would have to, if it meant killing the parasite. 
    Pom hollowly nodded at the Maestro’s words. “..I don’t even know if I’ll ever be as strong as him. I don’t know how long I have, either. I think.. it’ll eat him, too, eventually.” His care for the Saiyan slipped out of him, even as he spoke coldly. “But if you’ll help me, I guess I can try to meet his power. You’re one of the strongest people he knows..” He paused, his nonchalant facade dropping for a moment of sincerity. “..He looks up to you, you know.”

    “Oh, no, you’re absolutely not getting my soul,” Pom chuckled, “You’ll just, uh, have my allegiance for a little while. That’s about it.” He was no use for whatever the Orchestra was doing, and he knew that. It needed training, and if the Maestro would go after Rhuba for his slacking, what would he do if Pom left again? Would he have two targets on his back from dangerous people? “I’ve got nothing to offer you. As far as I’m aware, you’re just doing this.. out of the goodness of your heart.” It was said sarcastically, of course. Pom knew the Maestro would try to get one thing or another out of him. 
    He followed the darkly dressed man back to the spot he’d felled the beast, with the only indication of its presence being the print of its body in the ground and spots of blood. At the Maestro’s request, Pom arched a brow; it was obvious he was weak, so what was the point in testing his skill? He rolled his eyes, but dropped to the ground with a thump. Fine, if that’s what he wanted, he could have it. Pom placed his more fragile belongings to the side before looking back up to the Maestro.
    ”I’ll just hope you’re okay with possibly going into shock.” He quipped, steadily stepping backwards.

    Sand whipped around him violently as his energy suddenly skyrocketed, his body enlarging within a few seconds to contain it all. Pom was about double his height and completely animalistic now, standing on all fours with a longer tail whipping in anticipation. Without warning, he launched through the kicked up dust and straight for Maxsuz, using the low visibility to his advantage. He snapped his maw at the Maestro as he was within distance; even if he blocked, Pom’s massive body would barrel into him.
    This form was meant to be a weapon, with razor sharp claws, serrated fangs, and a solid build. It was just a matter of him using it. 

    In launching his attack, Pom was nearly confident! He was all too aware of the gap in his power and the Maestro’s, but it hardly mattered now; his senses were sharper than ever, with his surroundings passing by him at ludicrous speeds. And while not nearly as life threatening as a real fight, it still gave him a rush he hadn’t received in a long time. He claimed many times that he wasn’t a fighter, but even he could stand to indulge in a little spar once in a while!
    Who was he to deny his nature?
    Everything came scrambling to a halt, not as the Maestro dodged, but as he struck Pom in his stomach. He’d fully expected a dodge or some sort of counter, imagining his opponent to be aware of the possible damage from his momentum. The hit was just so benign, which might’ve been better than a full powered attack, especially from his underside; and the Maestro actually exchanging blows (though not equally) actually made it seem more like a fight than some sort of teasing. But it was all just.. so much less than Pom had expected.
    As the Maestro flew under him, Pom continued along his path, kicking up even more sand when he scraped across the ground. He dug his claws into the ground to catch himself, making a large arc as he turned to face the Maestro again. “Too telegraphed?!” He hissed, tail lashing across the ground. “What the hell’sss that sssupposed to mean?!” The dust cover was supposed to work, but he forgot to account for the Maestro’s ability to sense his energy. An ability that Pom lacked. It would be a good idea to practice with his Ki, but he saw little worth if he wasn’t able to do it with -

    He lurched forward, preparing to throw himself at the Maestro again, but he stopped. He could feel his irritation rising in his throat, but swallowed it down with a huff. “Okay, Mr. Maessstro. Jussst how do I become more.. unpredictable?” Moving nimbly wasn’t exactly an option in this form, especially with his lack of experience as it was. Training was always a bore, but.. now more than ever, Pom had to actually put in some effort. His eyes were intensely fixed on the Maestro as he stepped closer.
    “I’ll be ssserious about thisss. Ssshow me how to get ssstronger.”