Post by Raisu Hanamura on Oct 22, 2015 1:57:24 GMT
(Thread PL: 84,540. Heavy weights on. Weighted PL: 21,135.)
(Saaraqun)
Raisu made his way across the Spinach Wastes. The land stretched out flat before him, nothing impeding the wind that blew at his back. It was a particularly windy day. Raisu had been walking for about an hour, maybe an hour and a half if he were being loose with his estimates. He'd woken up only two hours ago, if he was judging the sun right. Raisu had slept out on the Wastes, curled up on the ground. It hadn't been so bad, but Raisu would have vastly preferred to sleep against some cover.
The problem was that there was none. The Spinach Wastes were flatlands, stretching unbroken for as far as the eye could see. It was perfect for farming, of course, but not much else he suspected. How strange it was that he'd not seen a farm yet. He knew that they were out here, but he saw no barns or the like.
This was not the first time he'd been out here either. This is where he'd met the farmer Sam and his family. Not here, but the region rather. What nice folks they were. Sam had been a martial artist turned farmer. Which was nice, because Sam had passed on some of his knowledge: the afterimage technique, for one. Now that was a technique that had saved his hide multiple times. A useful one.
Not only that, Sam had given him the weights that Raisu used to train. Now that had truly been a blessing. They were responsible, at least partially, for Raisu's rapid advancement. And that was something he was incredibly grateful for. Raisu had to be ready for the next threat to Earth. Be it Saiyans, demons, or something else entirely different, he had to be ready.
Raisu also had to keep traveling. The world was so vast and he still had much to see. Such as the Wastes that stretched out before him, he supposed. They were beautiful in their own way. It would be a damn shame if they were destroyed. People made their livelihoods off these lands. But it only take one psycho to scorch the Earth until it was unusable. Then, people like Sam and his family would be really screwed.
Briefly, Raisu wondered if he should visit Sam's farm and see if it were still there and if his family still lived. Nothing was certain in a post-Saiyan world. His farm might be ash and he and his family might be dust. A morbid thought. Raisu could probably contact them with telepathy, but would they be able to answer? If Raisu's experience with Defrosch was any indicator, the answer to that was no: people without telepathy could not necessarily answer back. He supposed that it might be like a megaphone of sorts, but one that could be directed and one that was purely mental.
Yes, he should visit. But where in the world was his farm? The Spinach Wastes, yes, but they were vast and people were far and few. He could fly, yes, but even that was no guarantee. For a wanderer, Raisu's sense of direction was not the best. Perhaps that was the difference between wandering and traveling. Raisu drifted around Earth without aim. Occasionally, he returned to the same spot for gravity training. But, for the most part, he moved without purpose. What was his purpose? To protect? Yes, that's at least what he told himself. Some were meant to make art or found nations. And while protecting is, as Raisu thought of it, a worthy goal, he could not help but feel a little empty. Did the other folks he met on the road feel this way? Even the Saiyan Natto seemed to have a purpose. That purpose, as far as Raisu was concerned, was to provide a goal, someone to be surpassed.
Raisu shrugged as he continued moving without aim. Perhaps the next person he encountered could provide a little insight or inspiration, as encounters often did these days.
(Saaraqun)
Raisu made his way across the Spinach Wastes. The land stretched out flat before him, nothing impeding the wind that blew at his back. It was a particularly windy day. Raisu had been walking for about an hour, maybe an hour and a half if he were being loose with his estimates. He'd woken up only two hours ago, if he was judging the sun right. Raisu had slept out on the Wastes, curled up on the ground. It hadn't been so bad, but Raisu would have vastly preferred to sleep against some cover.
The problem was that there was none. The Spinach Wastes were flatlands, stretching unbroken for as far as the eye could see. It was perfect for farming, of course, but not much else he suspected. How strange it was that he'd not seen a farm yet. He knew that they were out here, but he saw no barns or the like.
This was not the first time he'd been out here either. This is where he'd met the farmer Sam and his family. Not here, but the region rather. What nice folks they were. Sam had been a martial artist turned farmer. Which was nice, because Sam had passed on some of his knowledge: the afterimage technique, for one. Now that was a technique that had saved his hide multiple times. A useful one.
Not only that, Sam had given him the weights that Raisu used to train. Now that had truly been a blessing. They were responsible, at least partially, for Raisu's rapid advancement. And that was something he was incredibly grateful for. Raisu had to be ready for the next threat to Earth. Be it Saiyans, demons, or something else entirely different, he had to be ready.
Raisu also had to keep traveling. The world was so vast and he still had much to see. Such as the Wastes that stretched out before him, he supposed. They were beautiful in their own way. It would be a damn shame if they were destroyed. People made their livelihoods off these lands. But it only take one psycho to scorch the Earth until it was unusable. Then, people like Sam and his family would be really screwed.
Briefly, Raisu wondered if he should visit Sam's farm and see if it were still there and if his family still lived. Nothing was certain in a post-Saiyan world. His farm might be ash and he and his family might be dust. A morbid thought. Raisu could probably contact them with telepathy, but would they be able to answer? If Raisu's experience with Defrosch was any indicator, the answer to that was no: people without telepathy could not necessarily answer back. He supposed that it might be like a megaphone of sorts, but one that could be directed and one that was purely mental.
Yes, he should visit. But where in the world was his farm? The Spinach Wastes, yes, but they were vast and people were far and few. He could fly, yes, but even that was no guarantee. For a wanderer, Raisu's sense of direction was not the best. Perhaps that was the difference between wandering and traveling. Raisu drifted around Earth without aim. Occasionally, he returned to the same spot for gravity training. But, for the most part, he moved without purpose. What was his purpose? To protect? Yes, that's at least what he told himself. Some were meant to make art or found nations. And while protecting is, as Raisu thought of it, a worthy goal, he could not help but feel a little empty. Did the other folks he met on the road feel this way? Even the Saiyan Natto seemed to have a purpose. That purpose, as far as Raisu was concerned, was to provide a goal, someone to be surpassed.
Raisu shrugged as he continued moving without aim. Perhaps the next person he encountered could provide a little insight or inspiration, as encounters often did these days.