Post by Sinthe on Jan 4, 2017 12:19:48 GMT -5
There was one thing Sinthe could say for this planet, they sure had embraced consumerism with both arms. Anywhere else he might have had to go out into the sticks to find decent training weights, out with the masters and the ascetics or maybe even have to have commissioned something himself. The fact that he could walk in to what looked like a franchise outlet and buy training weights of this quality quite honestly turned his head. Of course there was the problem of this world having standardized currency of which he had none, add to this the fact that he had no patience for bargaining and you had the perfect storm in the perfect teacup. Eventually the bill came to one exploded mannequin and a few trinkets of alien metallurgy which may or may not have been slightly radioactive, but in the end he got what he came for. This Planet Dirt was starting to grow on him it seemed. No matter, it was time to get underway. Lifting off from the ground he was noticeably slower than usual and it was indeed quite the slog to get all the way outside the city before finally touching down on some open ground.
He ought to have been heading to Satan City, wherever that was to meet up with the Kaioshin’s girl, Christine or Christianna or something. The impetus was doubly insistent considering that there was an offer of food on the table, probably free food as well because he was damned if he was paying for anything. Recent events though had punctuated just how much his powers had declined and now to find that there were in fact Saiyans on this planet as the cat-girl he’d met had inferred. Well that meant he’d better get a start on already.
The Anubian looked around inquisitively, though he’d seen no one and nothing of much significance from the air he was rather keen on not being interrupted. Quite apart from his substantial drop in power these last years his muscles had grown sluggish and languorous in protracted rest so to get back in fighting trim he’d have to put a good deal of work in. Hence the weights of course. His tall ears twitched as they were tousled by the soft breeze, still keenly listening for any living thing which might impede him in his exercise.
Satisfied that he had found a suitably isolated retreat he tipped his head back, breathing deeply as he closed his eyes. For moments he just stood there, listening to the steady sound of his own heart beating, a dependable metronome. He felt the blood in his veins, the gentl wind rippling through his fur as it began to bristle in anticipation.
And then he was gone.
The Anubian rushed forward, striking out with his palm, following up with a clenched fist in time with his next heartbeat. With the next came a kick, an elbow, a roundhouse, no particular form, no particular kata, all that mattered for the moment was the feeling. The flow from one attack in to the next and the yearning in his now waking body for more. So as his heart began to speed so too did his routine through a punch combo into a flurry of kicks rounded off with a heel drop which split the ground in a spectacular plume of dust. Again, he was gone before it had even reached its peak. This was the feeling, this was the flow, this was what being awake was meant to feel like.
If he had considered before that he might still be confined, might only be having a pleasant dream of liberation, of renewal, he now felt all the more sure in his perception of reality. For a fighter’s ears and eyes to lie to them was no unusual thing, there was many a technique and many a con artist about the universe meant to do just that. The body though. That was a much more reliable barometer to go by, he’d been away so long now that he’d almost forgotten what living felt like, but the flow, the exertion, the giddiness which came with each and every strike. This was it.
Not long after he came to rest, panting softly with the sudden exertion of what was little more than play fighting, especially for one such as he, but it looked as though his body was coming around to the idea of a more serious workout all the same. ’Maybe… whew, I put on a little too much for a first attempt. Heh, but now that I’ve gotten used to it anything less would be a waste of my time.’ There he went again talking to himself, maybe he ought to go off and find someone else to play fight with. He smiled menacingly at the thought. First things first, he had an appointment to keep.
Alright, time to see a girl about a duck. Pushing off again he neglected the use of his flight, instead taking great powerful leaps in this direction or that since if he was going to go cross-country he might as well make a workout out of it, a workout he would likely ruin by piling a metric ton of calories on it as soon as he got where he was headed, but it was hardly his fault a deity’s herald wanted to buy him dinner. And so off he went, surging headlong in to the promised exquisite cuisine as others did into a final climactic battle. If nothing else it was likely to be just as gory.
WC: 934
Medium Weights: On
PL: 12,844
Weighted PL: 6,422
He ought to have been heading to Satan City, wherever that was to meet up with the Kaioshin’s girl, Christine or Christianna or something. The impetus was doubly insistent considering that there was an offer of food on the table, probably free food as well because he was damned if he was paying for anything. Recent events though had punctuated just how much his powers had declined and now to find that there were in fact Saiyans on this planet as the cat-girl he’d met had inferred. Well that meant he’d better get a start on already.
The Anubian looked around inquisitively, though he’d seen no one and nothing of much significance from the air he was rather keen on not being interrupted. Quite apart from his substantial drop in power these last years his muscles had grown sluggish and languorous in protracted rest so to get back in fighting trim he’d have to put a good deal of work in. Hence the weights of course. His tall ears twitched as they were tousled by the soft breeze, still keenly listening for any living thing which might impede him in his exercise.
Satisfied that he had found a suitably isolated retreat he tipped his head back, breathing deeply as he closed his eyes. For moments he just stood there, listening to the steady sound of his own heart beating, a dependable metronome. He felt the blood in his veins, the gentl wind rippling through his fur as it began to bristle in anticipation.
And then he was gone.
The Anubian rushed forward, striking out with his palm, following up with a clenched fist in time with his next heartbeat. With the next came a kick, an elbow, a roundhouse, no particular form, no particular kata, all that mattered for the moment was the feeling. The flow from one attack in to the next and the yearning in his now waking body for more. So as his heart began to speed so too did his routine through a punch combo into a flurry of kicks rounded off with a heel drop which split the ground in a spectacular plume of dust. Again, he was gone before it had even reached its peak. This was the feeling, this was the flow, this was what being awake was meant to feel like.
If he had considered before that he might still be confined, might only be having a pleasant dream of liberation, of renewal, he now felt all the more sure in his perception of reality. For a fighter’s ears and eyes to lie to them was no unusual thing, there was many a technique and many a con artist about the universe meant to do just that. The body though. That was a much more reliable barometer to go by, he’d been away so long now that he’d almost forgotten what living felt like, but the flow, the exertion, the giddiness which came with each and every strike. This was it.
Not long after he came to rest, panting softly with the sudden exertion of what was little more than play fighting, especially for one such as he, but it looked as though his body was coming around to the idea of a more serious workout all the same. ’Maybe… whew, I put on a little too much for a first attempt. Heh, but now that I’ve gotten used to it anything less would be a waste of my time.’ There he went again talking to himself, maybe he ought to go off and find someone else to play fight with. He smiled menacingly at the thought. First things first, he had an appointment to keep.
Alright, time to see a girl about a duck. Pushing off again he neglected the use of his flight, instead taking great powerful leaps in this direction or that since if he was going to go cross-country he might as well make a workout out of it, a workout he would likely ruin by piling a metric ton of calories on it as soon as he got where he was headed, but it was hardly his fault a deity’s herald wanted to buy him dinner. And so off he went, surging headlong in to the promised exquisite cuisine as others did into a final climactic battle. If nothing else it was likely to be just as gory.
WC: 934
Medium Weights: On
PL: 12,844
Weighted PL: 6,422
