Post by Nabel on Jan 12, 2016 8:18:19 GMT
Kaula
Nabel sat down on the sands of the remote beach's warm, windy shore, a muted, but content expression forming between the stitches of his bruised lips. Wearing nothing but a long, ratty cape and a pair of tattered swim shorts, the demon's scarred flesh and rotten muscle could be seen in plain sight, with no one around to notice his leathery skin sizzling painlessly beneath the sunset's warm glow. Beside him lay a crumpled pile of grimy, sun-baked clothes, which rapidly cooled in the near-evening sand. As the young man's only eye stared up blankly at the now-pink skies, waiting on patiently to view the beautiful, sea-side sundown, Nabel couldn't help but admit to himself that he had grown fond of this place. At that moment, he realized that Southern Islands really were among the most beautiful locales on Planet Earth. And the fact that the region played host to the vile city of South Capitol, seemed to be even more massive of a shame in his eyes. It was, and always would be, Nabel's unwavering belief that South Capitol was nothing more than a self-destructive hive. No one deserved to encounter any of the pond-scum that spawned from that tourist-laden cesspool.
With a breathy sigh, the demon undid the single, half-molten button that flimsily held up his old cloak, and groggily tossed it into his small stack of dirtied garments. Nabel shook his head, and disregarded his extensive thoughts on his place in the human world. The man was here to enjoy himself, after all, and all gods be damned if he wouldn't allow himself to do even that. Slowly stretching his (now much more defined) figure, Nabel laughed gleefully, for no reason in particular, and just let himself be enthralled by the stunning shore-line view. It was nice having some free time by himself for once, as the stress of running a small kingdom had really begun to take its toll on the young man. And though had yet to greatly affect his physical condition, the constant worry of failing the late Lady Kiara (and her already dwindling number of subjects) had forced the once-carefree slacker to slowly develop into a more cautious, cunning man. The unending threat of losing another member of his proverbial family constantly loomed over Nabel's dreary head, and there was nothing to be done about that. For the longest time in his short life, Nabel was growing. Not just in size or in strength, but in his emotional resolve.
As much as he wanted to take the time to mourn over over the successive deaths of his two beloved parental figures, Nabel couldn't possibly ignore his responsibilities for that long. Oddly enough, those very same duties were what gave the demon this chance to visit the lovely Southern Islands. Had it not been for the secret deal that was hidden deep within that blasted martial arts tournament, Nabel would have stayed at the bunker, doing his best to make sure that no one in his tiny community found themselves prey to the deadly beasts that prowled through the Gizard Wastes. The only reason he had decided to take a break today, was because an opportunity to unwind had presented itself. For the first time since he had arrived at South Capitol, there were no fights or meetings scheduled on this day. And that was just amazing.
Still, the young king couldn't enjoy himself. There was too much going on in his fractured skull to fully engross himself in the sereme atmosphere of the empty evening beach. His mind wavered back and forth, between quietly relaxing along with the peaceful environment, and painfully subjecting itself to images of the less benign aspects of his past. South Capitol, no, the entirety of the Southern Islands just held so many memories for the demon. This was where his entire journey started, and sadly enough, this was where Charles Lee Ray's tale ended. Whether it be due to the trauma he had endured as a child, or the grief he clung onto as an adult, Nabel knew in his heart and mind that this fractured archipelago's mere existence would be enough to keep him on edge.
"Do you remember that tune of his?" Upon remembering his surrogate father, Nabel began digging through the heap of old junk and loose fabric, instinctively searching for a certain gift that he had received from old Master Chuck. After several pained minutes of searching, the demon's single hand found itself clutching onto a time-weathered ocarina. First giving himself an excited pump to the chest, Nabel held the vessel flute to his lips with one hand, and began humming along to an ancient Konatsian folk song. For some odd reason, he had always found some semblance of solace when he played this one song, a song that had loss all meaning and purpose with the passage of time. They were just like Nabel's goals, well he thought so at least. As time passed by and life moved on, it seemed like Nabel's simple goal of finding her, Chuck's only child, turned into an even bigger fantasy. They had met exactly once, and he had (as per usual) failed his one goddamned job. With everything going on in his life recently, Nabel doubted that he could find her again, assuming that she was even still alive.
Nabel sat down on the sands of the remote beach's warm, windy shore, a muted, but content expression forming between the stitches of his bruised lips. Wearing nothing but a long, ratty cape and a pair of tattered swim shorts, the demon's scarred flesh and rotten muscle could be seen in plain sight, with no one around to notice his leathery skin sizzling painlessly beneath the sunset's warm glow. Beside him lay a crumpled pile of grimy, sun-baked clothes, which rapidly cooled in the near-evening sand. As the young man's only eye stared up blankly at the now-pink skies, waiting on patiently to view the beautiful, sea-side sundown, Nabel couldn't help but admit to himself that he had grown fond of this place. At that moment, he realized that Southern Islands really were among the most beautiful locales on Planet Earth. And the fact that the region played host to the vile city of South Capitol, seemed to be even more massive of a shame in his eyes. It was, and always would be, Nabel's unwavering belief that South Capitol was nothing more than a self-destructive hive. No one deserved to encounter any of the pond-scum that spawned from that tourist-laden cesspool.
With a breathy sigh, the demon undid the single, half-molten button that flimsily held up his old cloak, and groggily tossed it into his small stack of dirtied garments. Nabel shook his head, and disregarded his extensive thoughts on his place in the human world. The man was here to enjoy himself, after all, and all gods be damned if he wouldn't allow himself to do even that. Slowly stretching his (now much more defined) figure, Nabel laughed gleefully, for no reason in particular, and just let himself be enthralled by the stunning shore-line view. It was nice having some free time by himself for once, as the stress of running a small kingdom had really begun to take its toll on the young man. And though had yet to greatly affect his physical condition, the constant worry of failing the late Lady Kiara (and her already dwindling number of subjects) had forced the once-carefree slacker to slowly develop into a more cautious, cunning man. The unending threat of losing another member of his proverbial family constantly loomed over Nabel's dreary head, and there was nothing to be done about that. For the longest time in his short life, Nabel was growing. Not just in size or in strength, but in his emotional resolve.
As much as he wanted to take the time to mourn over over the successive deaths of his two beloved parental figures, Nabel couldn't possibly ignore his responsibilities for that long. Oddly enough, those very same duties were what gave the demon this chance to visit the lovely Southern Islands. Had it not been for the secret deal that was hidden deep within that blasted martial arts tournament, Nabel would have stayed at the bunker, doing his best to make sure that no one in his tiny community found themselves prey to the deadly beasts that prowled through the Gizard Wastes. The only reason he had decided to take a break today, was because an opportunity to unwind had presented itself. For the first time since he had arrived at South Capitol, there were no fights or meetings scheduled on this day. And that was just amazing.
Still, the young king couldn't enjoy himself. There was too much going on in his fractured skull to fully engross himself in the sereme atmosphere of the empty evening beach. His mind wavered back and forth, between quietly relaxing along with the peaceful environment, and painfully subjecting itself to images of the less benign aspects of his past. South Capitol, no, the entirety of the Southern Islands just held so many memories for the demon. This was where his entire journey started, and sadly enough, this was where Charles Lee Ray's tale ended. Whether it be due to the trauma he had endured as a child, or the grief he clung onto as an adult, Nabel knew in his heart and mind that this fractured archipelago's mere existence would be enough to keep him on edge.
"Do you remember that tune of his?" Upon remembering his surrogate father, Nabel began digging through the heap of old junk and loose fabric, instinctively searching for a certain gift that he had received from old Master Chuck. After several pained minutes of searching, the demon's single hand found itself clutching onto a time-weathered ocarina. First giving himself an excited pump to the chest, Nabel held the vessel flute to his lips with one hand, and began humming along to an ancient Konatsian folk song. For some odd reason, he had always found some semblance of solace when he played this one song, a song that had loss all meaning and purpose with the passage of time. They were just like Nabel's goals, well he thought so at least. As time passed by and life moved on, it seemed like Nabel's simple goal of finding her, Chuck's only child, turned into an even bigger fantasy. They had met exactly once, and he had (as per usual) failed his one goddamned job. With everything going on in his life recently, Nabel doubted that he could find her again, assuming that she was even still alive.