Post by Deleted on Dec 27, 2015 16:49:33 GMT -5
[Heavy Weights.]
[Access permitted by Athren.]
[20x Gravity.]
[WC: 2060]
Alone. No partner. Just him and him alone. His towel against his shoulder and hanging limp, shuffling from side to side. His dark colored hair tied up into a traditional chonmage. Spiked and pointed in the back as well his bangs a mess and overly spiked from nature. Wasn't something he could help and figured it was something that wasn't worth changing. Born with the unruly and shaggy style of apparel, he embraced it as it was.
Shutting the door behind him as he enter the room, he looked about. This ship, bought by the ex prince of Vegeta the hunter had come to meet, had been rather larger than he had thought. Incredible, at first glance. The room somewhat basic, a large pillar in the center and a computer hooked up to the base. The floors tiled golden and shades of yellow, separated by black lines to create squares that make a circle. A refrigerator apparently by the corner of the room. Barbells, weights and other items for working the body.
Though the focus not, on said items. But rather the computer in which had access to the more powerful and righteous style of working out. Onio's hair had bounced with every step, his towel tossed aside. Clothed in almost nothing, upper torso nude and his chest exposed, his lower torso the same. Though, he had bore a pair of black boxer briefs, his feet bare as well. He would have loved to train in his absolute quickest form, but it was appropriate to at least wear something. Even socks or something idiotic in fashion, so long he wasn't one hundred percent nude in the faction gravity chamber.
As he went to tap along the keyboard, the voice activation system had kicked in. The Saiyajin stepping back and looking up to the ceiling- tiled there as well, white tiles up there in response to the golden below it.
Zzt..User Name! The robotic voice called out, demanding the name of the person trying to use its access. Onio, a bit put off at first, thinking his allies would have locked in names already. Oh well, he thought. Swallowing on saliva, Onio opened his mouth to speak aloud.
"Onio. Permission granted by Athren."
Zzt..access granted. Set level.
"Easier than I..whatever. Twenty times, stat."
The room remained in its full color. Though, something had certainly shifted. As commanded, the gravitational force inside of the room had changed into the ten times he had asked for. The nearly nude teen lurched over, arms flexed and his legs the same. Holding him up as he deal with the change. His facial expression cracked into a stern and solemn one, refusing to break and enter one that showed strain over the circumstances presented before him. Retaining stance, Onio had grunted. His mouth shut tight, shaping the letter 'm' in a zig-zag type of line.
Shaking his head, he dropped down to his knees. Pressing his palms against the floor, as it had been cold and without life. Slight strain taking over his body as he kick his legs out back, his toes stopping him and keeping him lifted by the tips of the digits. His hands spreading out and keeping tight against the floor. His face towards the tiles, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed into a serious expression. Pushing himself up, muscle bounding out and throbbing with the stress put. Lowering himself after, muscle relaxing. The veins that made appearance calming down and reentering his flesh.
Though they return immediately after, like a parent being played a prank by their child. In the send of ding-dong ditch, as one would exit and then go back in before rinsing and repeating the entire process. Such being done with Onio. His hands clenched around the floor as he lower himself slowly and raise himself back up with a bit of strain. Performing his push ups to stimulate his calisthenics. His muscle popping out, veins over them and going from forearm to wrist quickly. His breaths quick and easy, keeping his stamina as long as he could. Down, up, down, up. Going without halt as he began perspiring, his body heating up and his brain sending signals to cool down.
Abruptly, he had switched style. Pushing up far enough to clap both hands together and still have time to catch himself with one hand. His left palm against the tiling, right clenched into a fist and behind his moist and powerful back. Keeping balance as he raise himself down and back up. Patience and power being put into the movements, bicep being pushed out to aching level. Yet he continued and strived to better: Even if he was at the newbie level. There was a saying for such situations,
Onio thinking of it as he raised up and brought back down. His bangs waving before him as he looked at the gold under. This, was his struggle and progress was over the horizon and soon to come. Nothing would stop him from grasping victory and feeling its sweet embrace as well tasting it's luxurious nectar.
He quite easily shifted to his other hand. Pushing far enough to clap once again and smack his palm against the tiles. His left hand put against his back. Growling to himself and flicking his tail with determination. Wriggling it as he lowered and raised himself. "Hup..huff..hup..huff..hup..!" He grunted as he lowered himself and raised back up. Quick in pace and buckling every so often, yet continuing. His spirit to thrive and becoming strong forcing him forward. His pace slow and strength proving useful, though his elbow would buckle and strain. Taking his last up, he rose to his feet slowly though cringing from the gravity.
He was still arched over, though his face showing signs of struggle. Teeth grit and brows arched in an angered manner. He began throwing punches against the gravity, feeling as though he could increase his physical speed. Slow at first and all around, he put both fists to his ribs before giving turns of straights and jabs. Jab, jab, straight, hook, uppercut and a finishing double handed axe punch down. The series being repeated a numerous amount of times. It felt as though he would be stronger in no time. But even if he was, there wasn't a reason to dawdle and end his session. As he resumed the boxer's stance, he bounced from heel to heel. Careful and using precision with his every move despite the display looking quite the simplest. Onio's cheeks inflating and deflating quickly as he continued to jab and forward the air. His fists weighed down significantly by the tremendous gravity put down on him. Well, tremendous to him. There were many who were far more tolerant of this type of gravity and he just happened to be joining in on the fun later than most. A damned shame, really. Had he access to this type of vessel and equipment before, he'd be able to ascend the ranks far faster than last. But..now, he had what he needed to defend the pride of his planet and character. Nothing would get in his way!
As sweat dripped and traveled down his jaw and nose, the male grunted with each jab. His eyebrows lowered and eyes focused and fierce. His arms being weighed down, as previously mentioned, but growing used to the enhanced amount of gravity. Onio's breathing get ragged and harsh the longer he remained in the chamber. Break was needed. The male ceasing his fists and movements to stand still. The red hue of the chamber still laying over him and his environment. The ground looking rather charming to be laid on, he felt himself regain energy with each passing moment. Each second, stamina was drawn and distributed to his muscles though they ache and burn from work. The hunter's chest rising, then dropping. Mass increasing and then decreasing. His lungs working their hardest to provide him wit what little air he had to use around him. The gravity nullifying most of the oxygen he so desired and required to continue his training. If it was fine, though. The Jaguar could easily last a few more moments without it. Plus, there was enough to take advantage of and in time, more oxygen could be acquired and utilized to his advantage. His hands were raised form his sides, his right fist brought into palm and his knuckles cracked. The same done to his left fist. Perspiration shown and dribbling down his body. "This is.."
"Incredible. I feel..strange. As if my body is light but heavy at the same time. It's just like how I felt when I was in here with a partner. Im changing, for the better. No doubt about it," Onio clenched his fist tightly, snapping his knee up and flexing roughly. His right knee, then his left. Feet back on the floor and his arms folding over one another. "But..I can't stand this any longer. I need rest," The male thought aloud. Twisting around and trudging heavily towards the power settings. His fingers manually scaling the keyboard quickly and switching the gravity to normal Earth gravity. The red dispersing and color returning to the chamber. Onio falling to his knees and his hands tensing around the tiled ground. His breaths heavy. "Damn it..this is laughable. A few hours and Im reduced to this..this can't be. I survived a beating from that super powered woman, those few days ago. I survived a fucking boot to my face and I can't even handle training alone and in a confined room!? What is this supposed to mean?! Grr?! The male grunted and snarled to and at himself. He felt pathetic, as if he was nothing and what he was trying to obtain, strength, was meaningless and was better off left for the greats to obtain instead of himself. A large conclusion to be jumped to, but whow as he to blame? He suffered a beating, a pity heal and ravaging by a mere Earthling woman. What type of Saiyajin did that?! How was it fair?! Onio, at this point, had forgotten and stopped caring that this room was Athren's. He was suddenly in a frenzy of rage and anger. His hands raised and fists made. Smashing into the floor numerous times, a terrifying thud made as he tried to express himself the best way he possibly could. It seemed the hunter was throwing something of a fit. He felt it wasn't fair, right, that other men worse than himself have failed at surviving an enhanced training environment and here he was pushed to the floor by a intangible assailant. Although, his fit had ceased suddenly. His eyes had widened and an idea popped into his cranium. Push yourself further, he thought. His voice like thunder, sounding out, "TIMES TWENTY."
Crimson enveloped the room once again. Already, Onio felt as though he was being shredded and ripped apart. His every atom and gene pulled and pushed against different surfaces. He wanted to go up, but the force of the gravity wanted him down. His body clocking into overtime as he raised his lower body off of the ground. His legs brought up, in the air, feet up to the sky. His hands bringing his body up, arms fully extended. Grunting, he brought his left arm off of the ground and bringing it behind his back. Lowering himself, down, then bringing himself back high, up. This process going on for more than a few minutes, his right arm receiving more and more strength with each movement. His right hand jutting up, allowing him to switch hands, Onio's left hand clamping onto the floor and taking over. Back once more, up, down, up, down, up, down..he had to push on. His arm felt as though t was being strained and ripped apart, veins upon veins snaking around his bicep and forearm. Training was a means of perfection, and he needed to capitalize on this. This small exercise was the finishing touch, though. In moments following the sequence, the gravity had been reverted. Back to neutral and allowing him to exit and rest his aching body. He needed this..
[Access permitted by Athren.]
[20x Gravity.]
[WC: 2060]
Alone. No partner. Just him and him alone. His towel against his shoulder and hanging limp, shuffling from side to side. His dark colored hair tied up into a traditional chonmage. Spiked and pointed in the back as well his bangs a mess and overly spiked from nature. Wasn't something he could help and figured it was something that wasn't worth changing. Born with the unruly and shaggy style of apparel, he embraced it as it was.
Shutting the door behind him as he enter the room, he looked about. This ship, bought by the ex prince of Vegeta the hunter had come to meet, had been rather larger than he had thought. Incredible, at first glance. The room somewhat basic, a large pillar in the center and a computer hooked up to the base. The floors tiled golden and shades of yellow, separated by black lines to create squares that make a circle. A refrigerator apparently by the corner of the room. Barbells, weights and other items for working the body.
Though the focus not, on said items. But rather the computer in which had access to the more powerful and righteous style of working out. Onio's hair had bounced with every step, his towel tossed aside. Clothed in almost nothing, upper torso nude and his chest exposed, his lower torso the same. Though, he had bore a pair of black boxer briefs, his feet bare as well. He would have loved to train in his absolute quickest form, but it was appropriate to at least wear something. Even socks or something idiotic in fashion, so long he wasn't one hundred percent nude in the faction gravity chamber.
As he went to tap along the keyboard, the voice activation system had kicked in. The Saiyajin stepping back and looking up to the ceiling- tiled there as well, white tiles up there in response to the golden below it.
Zzt..User Name! The robotic voice called out, demanding the name of the person trying to use its access. Onio, a bit put off at first, thinking his allies would have locked in names already. Oh well, he thought. Swallowing on saliva, Onio opened his mouth to speak aloud.
"Onio. Permission granted by Athren."
Zzt..access granted. Set level.
"Easier than I..whatever. Twenty times, stat."
{Spoiler}
The room remained in its full color. Though, something had certainly shifted. As commanded, the gravitational force inside of the room had changed into the ten times he had asked for. The nearly nude teen lurched over, arms flexed and his legs the same. Holding him up as he deal with the change. His facial expression cracked into a stern and solemn one, refusing to break and enter one that showed strain over the circumstances presented before him. Retaining stance, Onio had grunted. His mouth shut tight, shaping the letter 'm' in a zig-zag type of line.
Shaking his head, he dropped down to his knees. Pressing his palms against the floor, as it had been cold and without life. Slight strain taking over his body as he kick his legs out back, his toes stopping him and keeping him lifted by the tips of the digits. His hands spreading out and keeping tight against the floor. His face towards the tiles, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed into a serious expression. Pushing himself up, muscle bounding out and throbbing with the stress put. Lowering himself after, muscle relaxing. The veins that made appearance calming down and reentering his flesh.
Though they return immediately after, like a parent being played a prank by their child. In the send of ding-dong ditch, as one would exit and then go back in before rinsing and repeating the entire process. Such being done with Onio. His hands clenched around the floor as he lower himself slowly and raise himself back up with a bit of strain. Performing his push ups to stimulate his calisthenics. His muscle popping out, veins over them and going from forearm to wrist quickly. His breaths quick and easy, keeping his stamina as long as he could. Down, up, down, up. Going without halt as he began perspiring, his body heating up and his brain sending signals to cool down.
Abruptly, he had switched style. Pushing up far enough to clap both hands together and still have time to catch himself with one hand. His left palm against the tiling, right clenched into a fist and behind his moist and powerful back. Keeping balance as he raise himself down and back up. Patience and power being put into the movements, bicep being pushed out to aching level. Yet he continued and strived to better: Even if he was at the newbie level. There was a saying for such situations,
Without struggle, there is no progress.
Onio thinking of it as he raised up and brought back down. His bangs waving before him as he looked at the gold under. This, was his struggle and progress was over the horizon and soon to come. Nothing would stop him from grasping victory and feeling its sweet embrace as well tasting it's luxurious nectar.
He quite easily shifted to his other hand. Pushing far enough to clap once again and smack his palm against the tiles. His left hand put against his back. Growling to himself and flicking his tail with determination. Wriggling it as he lowered and raised himself. "Hup..huff..hup..huff..hup..!" He grunted as he lowered himself and raised back up. Quick in pace and buckling every so often, yet continuing. His spirit to thrive and becoming strong forcing him forward. His pace slow and strength proving useful, though his elbow would buckle and strain. Taking his last up, he rose to his feet slowly though cringing from the gravity.
His body not used to it.
He was still arched over, though his face showing signs of struggle. Teeth grit and brows arched in an angered manner. He began throwing punches against the gravity, feeling as though he could increase his physical speed. Slow at first and all around, he put both fists to his ribs before giving turns of straights and jabs. Jab, jab, straight, hook, uppercut and a finishing double handed axe punch down. The series being repeated a numerous amount of times. It felt as though he would be stronger in no time. But even if he was, there wasn't a reason to dawdle and end his session. As he resumed the boxer's stance, he bounced from heel to heel. Careful and using precision with his every move despite the display looking quite the simplest. Onio's cheeks inflating and deflating quickly as he continued to jab and forward the air. His fists weighed down significantly by the tremendous gravity put down on him. Well, tremendous to him. There were many who were far more tolerant of this type of gravity and he just happened to be joining in on the fun later than most. A damned shame, really. Had he access to this type of vessel and equipment before, he'd be able to ascend the ranks far faster than last. But..now, he had what he needed to defend the pride of his planet and character. Nothing would get in his way!
As sweat dripped and traveled down his jaw and nose, the male grunted with each jab. His eyebrows lowered and eyes focused and fierce. His arms being weighed down, as previously mentioned, but growing used to the enhanced amount of gravity. Onio's breathing get ragged and harsh the longer he remained in the chamber. Break was needed. The male ceasing his fists and movements to stand still. The red hue of the chamber still laying over him and his environment. The ground looking rather charming to be laid on, he felt himself regain energy with each passing moment. Each second, stamina was drawn and distributed to his muscles though they ache and burn from work. The hunter's chest rising, then dropping. Mass increasing and then decreasing. His lungs working their hardest to provide him wit what little air he had to use around him. The gravity nullifying most of the oxygen he so desired and required to continue his training. If it was fine, though. The Jaguar could easily last a few more moments without it. Plus, there was enough to take advantage of and in time, more oxygen could be acquired and utilized to his advantage. His hands were raised form his sides, his right fist brought into palm and his knuckles cracked. The same done to his left fist. Perspiration shown and dribbling down his body. "This is.."
"Incredible. I feel..strange. As if my body is light but heavy at the same time. It's just like how I felt when I was in here with a partner. Im changing, for the better. No doubt about it," Onio clenched his fist tightly, snapping his knee up and flexing roughly. His right knee, then his left. Feet back on the floor and his arms folding over one another. "But..I can't stand this any longer. I need rest," The male thought aloud. Twisting around and trudging heavily towards the power settings. His fingers manually scaling the keyboard quickly and switching the gravity to normal Earth gravity. The red dispersing and color returning to the chamber. Onio falling to his knees and his hands tensing around the tiled ground. His breaths heavy. "Damn it..this is laughable. A few hours and Im reduced to this..this can't be. I survived a beating from that super powered woman, those few days ago. I survived a fucking boot to my face and I can't even handle training alone and in a confined room!? What is this supposed to mean?! Grr?! The male grunted and snarled to and at himself. He felt pathetic, as if he was nothing and what he was trying to obtain, strength, was meaningless and was better off left for the greats to obtain instead of himself. A large conclusion to be jumped to, but whow as he to blame? He suffered a beating, a pity heal and ravaging by a mere Earthling woman. What type of Saiyajin did that?! How was it fair?! Onio, at this point, had forgotten and stopped caring that this room was Athren's. He was suddenly in a frenzy of rage and anger. His hands raised and fists made. Smashing into the floor numerous times, a terrifying thud made as he tried to express himself the best way he possibly could. It seemed the hunter was throwing something of a fit. He felt it wasn't fair, right, that other men worse than himself have failed at surviving an enhanced training environment and here he was pushed to the floor by a intangible assailant. Although, his fit had ceased suddenly. His eyes had widened and an idea popped into his cranium. Push yourself further, he thought. His voice like thunder, sounding out, "TIMES TWENTY."
Crimson enveloped the room once again. Already, Onio felt as though he was being shredded and ripped apart. His every atom and gene pulled and pushed against different surfaces. He wanted to go up, but the force of the gravity wanted him down. His body clocking into overtime as he raised his lower body off of the ground. His legs brought up, in the air, feet up to the sky. His hands bringing his body up, arms fully extended. Grunting, he brought his left arm off of the ground and bringing it behind his back. Lowering himself, down, then bringing himself back high, up. This process going on for more than a few minutes, his right arm receiving more and more strength with each movement. His right hand jutting up, allowing him to switch hands, Onio's left hand clamping onto the floor and taking over. Back once more, up, down, up, down, up, down..he had to push on. His arm felt as though t was being strained and ripped apart, veins upon veins snaking around his bicep and forearm. Training was a means of perfection, and he needed to capitalize on this. This small exercise was the finishing touch, though. In moments following the sequence, the gravity had been reverted. Back to neutral and allowing him to exit and rest his aching body. He needed this..