Dragonball M, Chapter 2: Lighthouse! Across the Shores of Shattered Time!

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

Ishtar cared... because Sarada cared?

Parsley was silent.

She knew that the Oni couldn't tell a lie. Every word she chose to speak was enshrouded with an undeniable truth that left nothing to ambiguity or confusion. What she spoke could be taken to be as true as the sun rose in the east and set in the west. When she stated plainly that Sarada grieved so terribly over her death, to the point that she felt responsible for her demise, Parsley had no choice but to take it as the truth.

Sarada...

It was in line with what Shek'hinah told her. Even though they said so many terrible things to one another, that Sarada still felt enough love in her heart for her wicked sister so as to shed tears over her fallen corpse...

Parsley's body shook as more tears fell down her face. What had she done to deserve such affection? Why her, of all people? Why should someone like Ishtar come to consider a sister of all things? Why should Sarada care about her enough - despite everything Parsley had done and said to her - to mourn her death instead of celebrate it?

Why?

How?

"I don't deserve love," she wept quietly. "Do you know how many people I killed?" Her voice hitched when she remembered the titanic number of lives she had taken with glee and without remorse. "350 million lives. Gone, because of me. Does someone like that deserve to be loved? Deserve to be mourned over? Deserve to be alive?"

She knew the answers to all three of those questions were the same; no. Sarada and Ishtar were wrong. They were wasting their time with a monster. "You were right, before. I am a monster. And monsters deserve to die."

The Parsley before Ishtar now, was not at all the Parsley of a year before ... and as the girl continued to tremble, as she wept over the monster she felt she was; couldn't help but wonder what exactly had transpired between her death and revival to have precipitated such a tremendous shift. The arrogance was gone, and along with it pride. Even the disdain ... and that borderline disgust for not who Ishtar was, but what, that had colored her -- admittedly brief -- interactions with Parsley before the girl's exile, was gone.

In many was, it was a shift of nature that Ishtar could never have guessed.

So when it was that Parsley asked through soft sobs, if Ishtar knew her for the monster she was, the golden eyed Oni was silent a moment as she carefully navigated through her shock, and made use of the advice offered by Asha'rah but a few months prior ... to work first with empathy -- and brief platitudes -- over the painful, necessary truth. Though in this perhaps, there was little difference.

"You know ... I suppose it is only fair to return your honesty in kind. So I will tell you of what I have done, before I offer the answer you deserve." Ishtar said then, softly. "In short, and without boring you to further tears ... some years ago; and several worlds away I slaughtered tens of millions. And even before that, as part of my upbringing, I was made to watch as billions warred themselves to extinction."

The Oni sighed, and glanced at Parsley, before moving on then to the promised answer.

"So for me to agree, and say that you do not deserve things such as love, to be cared for by others, and to simply live, for what you have done ... Would be the pinnacle of hypocrisy. Though you are right, I did believe you to be a monster ..." Ishtar offered, then, the truth slipping through the cracks in the moment despite her attempt to work around them. For over a year ago, when the tournament had been reaching its climactic ending, Ishtar had thought the girl a monster. Not for her upbringing, or the things she did ... but her unwillingness to -- like those animals on Callion -- realize that her xenophobia and self-assumed superiority of non-Sayians or even half-Saiyans; was nothing more than a fear-born hatred.

"Yet in the end it seems ... I was wrong." Ishtar picked back up, voice measured, and calm.

"You are not a monster, Parsley; and you do not deserve to die."

[Sub-Zero MKA]

The Parsley before Ishtar now, was not at all the Parsley of a year before ... and as the girl continued to tremble, as she wept over the monster she felt she was; couldn't help but wonder what exactly had transpired between her death and revival to have precipitated such a tremendous shift. The arrogance was gone, and along with it pride. Even the disdain ... and that borderline disgust for not who Ishtar was, but what, that had colored her -- admittedly brief -- interactions with Parsley before the girl's exile, was gone.

In many was, it was a shift of nature that Ishtar could never have guessed.

So when it was that Parsley asked through soft sobs, if Ishtar knew her for the monster she was, the golden eyed Oni was silent a moment as she carefully navigated through her shock, and made use of the advice offered by Asha'rah but a few months prior ... to work first with empathy -- and brief platitudes -- over the painful, necessary truth. Though in this perhaps, there was little difference.

"You know ... I suppose it is only fair to return your honesty in kind. So I will tell you of what I have done, before I offer the answer you deserve." Ishtar said then, softly. "In short, and without boring you to further tears ... some years ago; and several worlds away I slaughtered tens of millions. And even before that, as part of my upbringing, I was made to watch as billions warred themselves to extinction."

The Oni sighed, and glanced at Parsley, before moving on then to the promised answer.

"So for me to agree, and say that you do not deserve things such as love, to be cared for by others, and to simply live, for what you have done ... Would be the pinnacle of hypocrisy. Though you are right, I did believe you to be a monster ..." Ishtar offered, then, the truth slipping through the cracks in the moment despite her attempt to work around them. For over a year ago, when the tournament had been reaching its climactic ending, Ishtar had thought the girl a monster. Not for her upbringing, or the things she did ... but her unwillingness to -- like those animals on Callion -- realize that her xenophobia and self-assumed superiority of non-Sayians or even half-Saiyans; was nothing more than a fear-born hatred.

"Yet in the end it seems ... I was wrong." Ishtar picked back up, voice measured, and calm.

"You are not a monster, Parsley; and you do not deserve to die."

When Ishtar spoke, Parsley had no choice but to listen. The woman was far older than she, and had likely done far worse things than she had in her relatively short life. It turned out that she was right. Tens of millions fell by Ishtar's hand at some point during her past. Before that, she stood idle has countless billions slaughtered themselves. She, perhaps by this Zurvan fellow she had heard about, was forced to do nothing but watch. Perhaps it was to numb her to the startling, stinging chill of watching someone else take their last breaths. Parsley had gone through the same.

What Ishtar said after that was what drew Parsley's gaze up toward her.

The height of hypocrisy would have been to suffer a similar past, and anoint herself Parsley's better. They suffered through similar traumas, and Ishtar could empathize with her.

Even more, she admitted she was wrong.

"You are not a monster, Parsley; and you do not deserve to die."

The words were simple, but the message they conveyed opened her figurative eyes to the truth she willingly blinded herself to. In her grief, Parsley had been so willing to damn herself when the Goddess of Death saw fit to spare her an eternity of suffering and torment.

"They say that the last person to forgive you after a grievous sin is yourself," she spoke quietly. She held Ishtar's gaze, even as she slowly climbed to her feet. "I know you can't lie, and that you aren't one to tickle someone's ear. If you say I don't deserve to die, then that's the truth. But..." She sighed and let her eyes drop to the floor beneath them. "I have so much to atone for. More than I can probably make up for in my entire life. The people I've killed, what I did to Sarada - simply because I was unable to handle the fact that I failed to protect her from that bastard. How can I make up for all that?"

Little did she know that Sarada was listening in the distance.

[Cyke]

"Oh.....Zaofan. Of course its a good time....I was actually about to take a moment to check on Erosa, I'm sure she could use the company as well....from both of you." The mage motioned to the crystal. "I was just doublechecking the notes.....I mean triplechecking. Chrona assures me she can hear us....she just won't be able to communicate until her body can manifest."

Zaofan followed soon after, entering the room to check on his mistress. It seemed strange that he would still need permission to enter. Asha'rah thought the two of them would have gotten past that stage by now.

Asha'rah surveyed the room, then handed Etrina the book and equipment she asked for. Etrina looked exhausted, in the way academics got as they became engrossed in a project to the point that sleep and food became inconveniences. Zaofan could take care of the latter, of course. But Asha'rah wasn't quite ready to fill the room with a sedative gas just yet. Etrina had worked hard before. She could make her decisions.

It was just that in her case, her continued health anchored Erosa's continued existence.

"I have been pondering of late, Etrina. I believe I know who Erosa is. But my understanding of what she is remains rudimentary. I had thought such knowledge unnecessary, but that appears to have been a mistaken assumption. After what Erosa did...I need to know."

She bowed to the mage. Dedicated, logical, trustworthy, and with better knowledge of what Asha'rah wanted to learn than any other.

"When you are finished here, and perhaps better rested, would you instruct me on magic? I want to learn about familiars and magicite."

Zaofan nods to both Etrina and Asha'rah in acknowledgement. "Asha'rah has a point, Etrina -- the stress you've been to would require rest. You should've seen us out there in battle! But it wasn't right diving into battle without you, either. You were missed."

He digs into his pocket and pulls out a capsule. "You might be in better shape to teach Asha'rah if you take this." He holds the capsule up between his thumb and index finger. "It took me the better part of a year to find all the ingredients for this concoction, from a recipe I found when we were all out in space, translated by Chromakai computer."

He clicks it open, and *POF!*, a pot full of seven bowls of reddish yellow soup emerge. "The Sapphire Fire Soup. The recipe book was from space, but oddly enough, it said that this soup only works on humans. How that came to be, I don't know. But the base of the broth comes from the Crimson Sapphire Flower, which blooms once every few years. And according to the book, drinking one bowl should do wonders, but otherwise it's pointless to drink more than one."

"Asha'rah, I'm sorry, but according to the book, I doubt the soup will do anything for you. And hey, should anything bad happen to us, I hope that you'll help us out. But, given that Etrina and I are human, and given what we've just been through, I hope that it helps you, Etrina, get better. You're the first of us that I'm giving this to, and I've been saving this potion for the right moment. I should've taken this before the invasion!"

And with that explanation, Zaofan readies two bowls of the soup, one for Etrina and one for himself. "If this soup does what the book says it does, well then, it's my belated birthday gift to you, Mistress."

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Assuming her most diplomatic stance, "It is an honor and a pleasure to meet you, Lady Althena. There is much we need to discuss. Perhaps late on tonight, if you are willing, we can sit down and discuss matters on import."

Althena replies to this saying " yes I would like that." " as a warrior Praxat is more powerful than I'm but she still has a lot to learn." " her reaction time from what I observe is poor." " I test her once and despite our differences in power I was able to dodge every single one of her attacks."

" she needs to learn how to not think too much during combat." Praxat replies to this saying " yeah I know I have lot to learn and I say that your still naturally stronger than I'm Althena." " yeah there's no way I could walk around with around 800 kilograms of weighted clothing and a carrying a 107 Kilogram book with ease without using Ki." " well you aren't carrying the book of Mahtoesa Hetto no Hwe-Atkam or wearing your weighted clothing right now."

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

When Ishtar spoke, Parsley had no choice but to listen. The woman was far older than she, and had likely done far worse things than she had in her relatively short life. It turned out that she was right. Tens of millions fell by Ishtar's hand at some point during her past. Before that, she stood idle has countless billions slaughtered themselves. She, perhaps by this Zurvan fellow she had heard about, was forced to do nothing but watch. Perhaps it was to numb her to the startling, stinging chill of watching someone else take their last breaths. Parsley had gone through the same.

What Ishtar said after that was what drew Parsley's gaze up toward her.

The height of hypocrisy would have been to suffer a similar past, and anoint herself Parsley's better. They suffered through similar traumas, and Ishtar could empathize with her.

Even more, she admitted she was wrong.

"You are not a monster, Parsley; and you do not deserve to die."

The words were simple, but the message they conveyed opened her figurative eyes to the truth she willingly blinded herself to. In her grief, Parsley had been so willing to damn herself when the Goddess of Death saw fit to spare her an eternity of suffering and torment.

"They say that the last person to forgive you after a grievous sin is yourself," she spoke quietly. She held Ishtar's gaze, even as she slowly climbed to her feet. "I know you can't lie, and that you aren't one to tickle someone's ear. If you say I don't deserve to die, then that's the truth. But..." She sighed and let her eyes drop to the floor beneath them. "I have so much to atone for. More than I can probably make up for in my entire life. The people I've killed, what I did to Sarada - simply because I was unable to handle the fact that I failed to protect her from that bastard. How can I make up for all that?"

Little did she know that Sarada was listening in the distance.

It took awhile, for the words to resonate ... and for a brief moment Ishtar wondered if Parsley was to caught up in her guilt.

Of course such a thing could, and should at least be partially forgiven. Parsley now found herself suffering a crisis of self, after all ... and after languishing in HIFL besides; yet there was a balance to be found in this -- as with everything -- and to tip too far over the edge she now hovered on might see her give up on living entirely. Which was certainly not a thing Ishtar herself wished to see. Yet finally ... thankfully ... the words did resonate, and with a slow if shaky inclining of the head Parsley met Ishtar's eyes before lifting herself up off the ledge.

And what the young Saiyan offered in response was as curious as it was heartening:

I have so much to atone for ... How can I make up for all that ?

Ishtar simply shrugged.

"To tell you the truth ... I have given the matter of 'atonement to the dead' much thought ... and I find the idea to be something of a waste." She stated, ever calm. "And while I know it will be quite some time, perhaps, before you shake the feeling of its necessity completely; I would ask that you ask yourself a question every time you feel the ache begin to settle in your heart: ... "Of what worth is atonement, to the dead who will not live again ?"

And the answer to that, was of course, 'no worth at all'.

The dead -- or at least those dead who could not, and would not be restored to life -- didn't stand to gain one bit from an offering made by the living. After all, and among other things: how would they even receive them. No, in the end atonement and the reparation that was every paired along with it ... were for the living.

"Beyond that ? Well, if I may recommend something ... it would be to find balance."

The Oni slowly picked herself up and brushed her tattered garments off.

"Though perhaps that is a bit too ... complicated a topic in the moment." Ishtar added with a chuckle. "So at least for now, work towards making amends with the living. And while you may feel as if they hate you for past misdeeds, I can assure it it is simply because they are not the best at expressing such feelings, given that they are Saiyan."

And as if on cue, Ishtar felt the presence of one such Saiyan, some meters away but well within earshot.

"So I suggest you start with Sarada; and I will be right here to help if you need it."

[MrSandman]

"I have been pondering of late, Etrina. I believe I know who Erosa is. But my understanding of what she is remains rudimentary. I had thought such knowledge unnecessary, but that appears to have been a mistaken assumption. After what Erosa did...I need to know."

She bowed to the mage. Dedicated, logical, trustworthy, and with better knowledge of what Asha'rah wanted to learn than any other.

"When you are finished here, and perhaps better rested, would you instruct me on magic? I want to learn about familiars and magicite."

"Instruct you...on magic?" Etrina was fiddling with her measurement equipment when the goddess popped the question, and for a moment she paused while parsing the request. "......Its strange, up until a few months ago I'd never trained a soul in magic and now I'm suddenly in hot demand. First the first mage of a planet and now the goddess of creation. I take it someone else was charge when it came to designed magic..?"

Etrina finally finished adjusting her caliper and took the measurement of Erosas crystal....all the while her tired expression was overshadowed by a bemused smile. "....Of course. It would be my honor to teach a goddess a thing or two.....just know I'll be holding it over the head of every other mage I meet. The council would wet there collective beds at the thought."

Zaofan nods to both Etrina and Asha'rah in acknowledgement. "Asha'rah has a point, Etrina -- the stress you've been to would require rest. You should've seen us out there in battle! But it wasn't right diving into battle without you, either. You were missed."

"Yes.....I heard we were invaded, again." Etrina mused. "You fight invasion you fight them all, I'm sure you and the others were more then enough. Unfortunately, I just....can't pull myself away at this juncture. I don't want the first thing Erosa sees when she comes back to be an empty room."

He digs into his pocket and pulls out a capsule. "You might be in better shape to teach Asha'rah if you take this." He holds the capsule up between his thumb and index finger. "It took me the better part of a year to find all the ingredients for this concoction, from a recipe I found when we were all out in space, translated by Chromakai computer."

He clicks it open, and *POF!*, a pot full of seven bowls of reddish yellow soup emerge. "The Sapphire Fire Soup. The recipe book was from space, but oddly enough, it said that this soup only works on humans. How that came to be, I don't know. But the base of the broth comes from the Crimson Sapphire Flower, which blooms once every few years. And according to the book, drinking one bowl should do wonders, but otherwise it's pointless to drink more than one."

"Asha'rah, I'm sorry, but according to the book, I doubt the soup will do anything for you. And hey, should anything bad happen to us, I hope that you'll help us out. But, given that Etrina and I are human, and given what we've just been through, I hope that it helps you, Etrina, get better. You're the first of us that I'm giving this to, and I've been saving this potion for the right moment. I should've taken this before the invasion!"

And with that explanation, Zaofan readies two bowls of the soup, one for Etrina and one for himself. "If this soup does what the book says it does, well then, it's my belated birthday gift to you, Mistress."

"Ohh....Well I...I haven't eaten today....and it smells awfully good...." Etrina hadn't realized til she was making her way over that the distinguished mage was almost watering at the mouth. ".......Is it spicy? It sounds spicy....but I like spicy...am I rambling?" Etrina chuckles and scoops up a spoon full of soup. "Oh well....lets see how well you've done this time, my wonderful sheep." Then she takes a sip.

[MrSandman]

"I will concede to recklessness. Thousands of years of stagnation has engendered that in me ... yet gullibility implies I believe all that is said, and offered." Ishtar replied. "The whispers have provided the means to harness the Void Energy inside of me, and to kill a Void Creature ... or Creatures, one must know how its power source works."

The joke did not go unnoticed however, yet before Ishtar could do more than chuckle, The Oni found Cthylla almost uncomfortably close.

What she had to say after her appraisal however, was certainly something that had been considered.

"A key ... yes." The Oni nodded. "A means to understand, and a means to sate my curiosity of a thing I have little experience with in my one-hundred thousand ... and, er ... one years of life. That it is not wholly benign, this entity is something I had suspected however. Surely not all Voidling can be as respectable as you. Or as ... hands on."

"Those of my brood have always had a different approach to our manifestations with inner creatures. Though many have had hands-on approaches to your kind in the past...many of them have done so with intentions of personal amusement or cruelty...ours is for curiosity. The chaotic nature within formed universes is different then those outside....for example...."

Cthylla held out her hand. "....I've noticed since I arrived that a small amount of force is consistently pulling towards the ground. I have to apply counter balancing forces to maintain posture. This doesn't exist in the void. From what I have gathered....it is a phenomenon created by an excess amount of created matter being condensed into a single area. What is the purpose of this."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Etrina, Zaofan, the soup is hot. Not spicy, but a warmth flows when you eat it throughout your body. You feel the need to finish the soup, and when you do you feel energy build in you as the warmth spreads.

The taste is excellent. Hard to pin down exactly what the flavor is, but you know you like it.

After you finish your bowls, you feel the warmth slowly fade and you feel reinvigorated and more powerful.

[Tami]

Grinthorn...

It wasn't hard to recognize the name, considering he was president. Hell, someone based a grocery store franchise off of him (although it whether or not he consented to Grin-Mart has always been the topic of countless urban legends). Having never been one for politics nor old enough to even vote, Charco never put too much thought into earth's creepy-looking president; he was just... there. He had never met the man, but it seems the others had and from the tones of their voices, he was just as involved in this plot as the invaders were. Still, it struck him as odd considering how long he had been president.

Troubling, but he has his own to contend to.

"Okay," Charco said with a sigh, "... time to go home to face the music."

With a deftness developed from many years of teenage texts, Charco tapped a quick succession of buttons into his communicator before raising the device up in a fashion for what was obviously a selfie. "There..." He said to himself in a satisfied tone, lowering his communicator and putting it back into his pocket. Levitating from the ground, he turned to address the others.

"All right, everyone, I'm heading back to Brick City. Be back in a few."

With that said, he ascended and headed off in one direction particular.

Seeing him leave, Cyanna called out, "Charco, don't get into trouble. Be careful!" As she watched him vanish into the distance.

[Tami]

Morning

Dash wanders into the kitchen looking for a hot meal to start her morning off. Rummaging through the refrigerator, she finds some leftovers from the night before.

[Cyke]

Etrina, Zaofan, the soup is hot. Not spicy, but a warmth flows when you eat it throughout your body. You feel the need to finish the soup, and when you do you feel energy build in you as the warmth spreads.

The taste is excellent. Hard to pin down exactly what the flavor is, but you know you like it.

After you finish your bowls, you feel the warmth slowly fade and you feel reinvigorated and more powerful.

Zaofan takes a sip with the spoon. Doing a double take and locking eyes with Etrina, he forgoes the spoon and picks up the bowl with both hands. His body feels tingly, amazing, wonderful. He closes his eyes, and presses the bowl into his mouth, and he soon learns the difference between eating soup, and straight-up drinking it. With his eyes closed, his mind engages in a struggle -- trying to restrain himself and trying to identify the flavors so that he could replicate it in the future. He fails at both tasks, in his haste.

When finished, he slowly pulls the bowl away from his lips, eyes still closed. He exhales peacefully, almost as if steam escapes his partially closed lips. He lowers the bowl and gradually opens his eyes. "That... that was fantastic. I feel fantastic!"

Those who can sense ki on the Lookout would notice Zaofan's ki spiking up. "Hoooo-baby."

He looks at the large pot of soup, and blinks twice. "Oh my Kami. I have to be judicious about this. There's only 4... 5 bowls left of this stuff." He capsules the soup and gets up. "Etrina, how do you feel?

[KingofPie]

Morning

Dash wanders into the kitchen looking for a hot meal to start her morning off. Rummaging through the refrigerator, she finds some leftovers from the night before.

"What's up, student?" Sasheem greeted, having been glaring over a boiling pot of water in the kitchen. "Sasheem sees that you're following the number one principal to becoming a powerful combatant...always keep well fed! Too many morons skip breakfast and you know what happened to them? All dead..." The Majin informed her, imparting some of his 'wisdom'.

[Tami]

"What's up, student?" Sasheem greeted, having been glaring over a boiling pot of water in the kitchen. "Sasheem sees that you're following the number one principal to becoming a powerful combatant...always keep well fed! Too many morons skip breakfast and you know what happened to them? All dead..." The Majin informed her, imparting some of his 'wisdom'.

"Very well said, Master Sasheem." Dash smiled, then opens up a container of what looks like soup. It smells fantastic, so she takes some for herself and heats it up just enough to accent the taste. "Zaofan musta made this, don't know many who could cook this well." As she brought it to a table and began eating.

[Cyke]

"Very well said, Master Sasheem." Dash smiled, then opens up a container of what looks like soup. It smells fantastic, so she takes some for herself and heats it up just enough to accent the taste. "Zaofan musta made this, don't know many who could cook this well." As she brought it to a table and began eating.

Elsewhere in the Lookout, Zaofan's senses hit overdrive as he begins to sense as many powerlevels on the floating palace. The rush exhilarates him, but one in particular, begins to rise dramatically. "Oh no. OH NO!"

By sheer reflex, his body hits the Zanzoken, and he appears in the kitchen, the doors flapping wildly. He covers the Sapphire Fire Soup and holds it away from Sasheem. "Dash! The soup! Eat it, quickly!"

OT: Cleric, we have customer #3 for the soup!

[KingofPie]

"Very well said, Master Sasheem." Dash smiled, then opens up a container of what looks like soup. It smells fantastic, so she takes some for herself and heats it up just enough to accent the taste. "Zaofan musta made this, don't know many who could cook this well." As she brought it to a table and began eating.

"Hey, that smells pretty good! Can Sasheem..." the Majin began, before....

Elsewhere in the Lookout, Zaofan's senses hit overdrive as he begins to sense as many powerlevels on the floating palace. The rush exhilarates him, but one in particular, begins to rise dramatically. "Oh no. OH NO!"

By sheer reflex, his body hits the Zanzoken, and he appears in the kitchen, the doors flapping wildly. He covers the Sapphire Fire Soup and holds it away from Sasheem. "Dash! The soup! Eat it, quickly!"

OT: Cleric, we have customer #3 for the soup!

...Sasheem had no idea what was going on but, given Zaofan's sudden insistence that he couldn't have any....it must'be been some damn good soup. Thay human bastard was trying to make sure he couldn't have any!

"Hey, apprentice!" Sasheem stated, using his Mamba Boost to speed towards the soup. "Let Sasheem have one spoonful!"