07-13-2018, 02:12 PM
Ricter wondered aimlessly for a while, wondering what he should do, what they should be thinking about, the future. Multiple things kept him distracted and focused on what essentially could be the end after all this was done. He didn't mind losing, he had lost plenty of times before in little bouts with his friends back where he was from. It was just that he was getting tired of being useless, getting tired of not having the power to do much of anything as of late besides try his best to help others.
It was depressing being a handicap to someone else, it was disheartening to be nothing more than just a side kick, and now he felt himself wanting to do more, maybe even work towards actually improving on what he could possibly do. Maybe focus his abilities on things that aren't healing and medical work, but he didn't wish to change his identity and what he wanted to do for others.
His friend Vee always told him that others were selfish, wishing nothing more than to improve themselves in combat to better kill others, to rule over them and do what they could to hold said power. She saw him differently than other primes, the moogle could see the good he's done, the people that he's helped and protected. All in the name of just wishing a better life for those who've been injured in the past by evil creatures and monsters who take the form of humanoid shapes.
So he felt like he was at a small crossroads now, did he want to focus on improving his offensive power and aim to better harm others, or would he focus all his energy on helping those he has grown close too, wishing nothing more than to give them control over their lives. It was a hard choice, both having merits to them but he couldn't just keep losing, he wouldn't be able to even stop anyone from harming his friends if the stoat continued to fail.
Just as he rounded a corner however he soon bumped into a Syntech employee, they seemed to be happy to see him but he only spoke in a low tone, eyes darting away. "Sorry." He'd move around her. But she stopped him.
"Wait! Mr. Casenger, I have a letter for you."
The woman's words caused him to stop, making him turn around with lulled eyes before looking at the envelope in her hands and accepting it. He'd give a simple, "Thanks." Before turning around and leaving. Normally so chipper and so happy to be around others, he was now in a state of judging himself, as if what he was doing wasn't enough.
Ripping the top of the letter using one of his nails he opened it, folding the paper out to display the words on one side and reading them. What he read seemed to make his dull expression change into a more surprised one, it was a latter from Marisa. Kinda the only good friend he had around here, it would seem that she placed down her contact information and even where he could maybe find her later on.
This honestly made his gloomy mind set change to a more pleasant one, he had wanted to fight with Marisa because there was little stakes when it came to a 1v1. Plus he didn't feel so bad about losing to someone he knew, because its more fun this way, friendly matches between buddies didn't bother him at all but unfortunately he didn't get the chance. If anything he at least wanted to meet her again and they could do something together, like drink more of that sake stuff, or maybe train together.
The idea's that popped into his head just made his tail wag, making him smile and feel optimistic, but not towards this tournament, now he just wanted to get back home and possibly plan on visiting his friend. He could apologize to Cell about not being as strong, or as good at fighting as the bio-android was, but in the end there was very little he could do about that on his own.
He was still knew to all this, new to fighting Primes, and new to just bein here in the omniverse. He had no idea what he was doing, and now that he was being over looked by some powerful creature that looked everywhere, he felt it was necessary to learn. Yet, dantes abyss was probably not the place for him, and he realized that after just the first match. Would he want to return? Maybe not, though he felt he had learned a few things about himself and why he choose to come here.
This was a test, to see if he could at least stand up to those who have been here longer, who were stronger and more accustomed to the environment around them, all unique in their own light but held power in some regard. So the answer was nom, he couldn't, and I showed in the two matches he fought in. He didn't feel depressed any more in regards to Marisa's letter, instead he just accepted the fact that he wasn't the best, and probably would never reach the amount of skill, power, and over all ability that some others had.
Sure, he might seem depressed about that, but in a way he was just happy, he could leave all the fighting to everyone else, as he had done before. For him, he would focus just on helping other, curing secondarys of major illnesses, and ensuring those who he deemed as family and friend would never have to suffer at the hands of an illness again.
So as he placed the letter into his pocket for later he walked along, he held a smile, win or lose he felt like he knew himself. The weasel would stick with the half of him that enjoyed his job, enjoyed working to preserve life, and if he was eventually [pushed into a corner and forced into combat, he'd hope that he had the power to whittle whom ever he was facing down.
But that would be a worry for another time, right now he just hoped the next match would be over soon, so he could go home and do something he actually enjoyed. Besides, here he wasn't important, if anything this was just a waste of time and energy for a sport that someone else was getting rich off of. Ricter was better off being back at the clinic actually helping people, actually healing them and ensuring their wounds recovered over time, so this was his justification for why he felt this way.
"Thanks Marisa, I hope I can see you again soon."
It was depressing being a handicap to someone else, it was disheartening to be nothing more than just a side kick, and now he felt himself wanting to do more, maybe even work towards actually improving on what he could possibly do. Maybe focus his abilities on things that aren't healing and medical work, but he didn't wish to change his identity and what he wanted to do for others.
His friend Vee always told him that others were selfish, wishing nothing more than to improve themselves in combat to better kill others, to rule over them and do what they could to hold said power. She saw him differently than other primes, the moogle could see the good he's done, the people that he's helped and protected. All in the name of just wishing a better life for those who've been injured in the past by evil creatures and monsters who take the form of humanoid shapes.
So he felt like he was at a small crossroads now, did he want to focus on improving his offensive power and aim to better harm others, or would he focus all his energy on helping those he has grown close too, wishing nothing more than to give them control over their lives. It was a hard choice, both having merits to them but he couldn't just keep losing, he wouldn't be able to even stop anyone from harming his friends if the stoat continued to fail.
Just as he rounded a corner however he soon bumped into a Syntech employee, they seemed to be happy to see him but he only spoke in a low tone, eyes darting away. "Sorry." He'd move around her. But she stopped him.
"Wait! Mr. Casenger, I have a letter for you."
The woman's words caused him to stop, making him turn around with lulled eyes before looking at the envelope in her hands and accepting it. He'd give a simple, "Thanks." Before turning around and leaving. Normally so chipper and so happy to be around others, he was now in a state of judging himself, as if what he was doing wasn't enough.
Ripping the top of the letter using one of his nails he opened it, folding the paper out to display the words on one side and reading them. What he read seemed to make his dull expression change into a more surprised one, it was a latter from Marisa. Kinda the only good friend he had around here, it would seem that she placed down her contact information and even where he could maybe find her later on.
This honestly made his gloomy mind set change to a more pleasant one, he had wanted to fight with Marisa because there was little stakes when it came to a 1v1. Plus he didn't feel so bad about losing to someone he knew, because its more fun this way, friendly matches between buddies didn't bother him at all but unfortunately he didn't get the chance. If anything he at least wanted to meet her again and they could do something together, like drink more of that sake stuff, or maybe train together.
The idea's that popped into his head just made his tail wag, making him smile and feel optimistic, but not towards this tournament, now he just wanted to get back home and possibly plan on visiting his friend. He could apologize to Cell about not being as strong, or as good at fighting as the bio-android was, but in the end there was very little he could do about that on his own.
He was still knew to all this, new to fighting Primes, and new to just bein here in the omniverse. He had no idea what he was doing, and now that he was being over looked by some powerful creature that looked everywhere, he felt it was necessary to learn. Yet, dantes abyss was probably not the place for him, and he realized that after just the first match. Would he want to return? Maybe not, though he felt he had learned a few things about himself and why he choose to come here.
This was a test, to see if he could at least stand up to those who have been here longer, who were stronger and more accustomed to the environment around them, all unique in their own light but held power in some regard. So the answer was nom, he couldn't, and I showed in the two matches he fought in. He didn't feel depressed any more in regards to Marisa's letter, instead he just accepted the fact that he wasn't the best, and probably would never reach the amount of skill, power, and over all ability that some others had.
Sure, he might seem depressed about that, but in a way he was just happy, he could leave all the fighting to everyone else, as he had done before. For him, he would focus just on helping other, curing secondarys of major illnesses, and ensuring those who he deemed as family and friend would never have to suffer at the hands of an illness again.
So as he placed the letter into his pocket for later he walked along, he held a smile, win or lose he felt like he knew himself. The weasel would stick with the half of him that enjoyed his job, enjoyed working to preserve life, and if he was eventually [pushed into a corner and forced into combat, he'd hope that he had the power to whittle whom ever he was facing down.
But that would be a worry for another time, right now he just hoped the next match would be over soon, so he could go home and do something he actually enjoyed. Besides, here he wasn't important, if anything this was just a waste of time and energy for a sport that someone else was getting rich off of. Ricter was better off being back at the clinic actually helping people, actually healing them and ensuring their wounds recovered over time, so this was his justification for why he felt this way.
"Thanks Marisa, I hope I can see you again soon."