Post by Baalbatos on Feb 9, 2016 9:29:38 GMT -5
(Heavy weights on!)
(PL: 1000)
Baalbatos shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His entire body ached. It was the new weighted clothing that he was wearing. He’d heard tales of those warriors who grew stronger with the use of weighted clothing, and he was inclined to believe it. Partially, because he had done his own research. Baalbatos was a man who was loathe to accept simple anecdotes as evidence for anything. No, he needed sources and he needed them in a report, with plenty of statistics and citations to back them up. So, when his research had indeed indicated that weighted clothing did indeed accelerate the growth of physical strength by a large amount, he thought to himself that he would be a fool not to acquire some.
Of course, they had cost money. Baalbatos had to pull from his personal wealth to get them, and they had not been cheap. He also had to have them brought in from off-world. But he thought it was worth it. They were crafted by masters on a little backwater planet, made especially for him. If they hadn’t been… He’d probably be in much worse shape than he was now. Still, in time, he might get used to the presence of these weights. With training too, he thought. Speaking of which… Baalbatos’s eyes drifted up to the clock on the wall. His sparring partner was not there yet.
“Ah, well,” he mumbled, “They have some time yet.”
Baalbatos had been early. He always was early, at least when he could be. He’d heard a saying on Earth once. Something along the lines of ‘the early bird eats the worm’. Baalbatos had always found Earth’s little colloquialisms charming. They were much cuter than the proverbs of the Demon Realm. Though. this probably went without saying. The idioms of his realm of origin were often quite a bit more… bloody and violent. They’d fit more in with a Saiyan culture than with Earth, now that he considered it.
Baalbatos stared at the clock again. Sometimes, he told himself, he hated being early. But he knew that he had to keep up appearances. Punctuality was an important quality for a leader. And he always wanted to be the first to meetings. It made him look better. And more importantly, it made those who arrived after him look worse. Who was more dedicated to the task at hand? The person who showed up first, or the person who showed up after them? Baalbatos would let it speak for itself.
Of course, Baalbatos was not trying to make his incoming associate look worse. No, that was not the point of today’s meeting, to play at petty politics. His purpose today was more practical. He needed to train, especially if he were to ever catch up to Lord Qrowen. Yes, he thought, catching up to Lord Qrowen was important. The demon had to show that he was, at the very least, competent. If he didn’t, he might soon find himself wandering space. Or, if worst came to worst, his neck might meet the cold touch of a chopping block. And he quite liked his neck the way it was: whole and keeping his head attached to his body.
Finally, the mechanical door of the room slid open and in stepped Gouta, the Brenchian mercenary turned loyal soldier. “Greetings, sir! You called me here?” She exclaimed, a certain enthusiasm in her voice.
“Ah, Gouta,” began the lilac-toned demon, “It is good to see you. Sit, sit, we have a few things to discuss.”
Baalbatos gestured to the chair across from him, meaning for the Brench wench to sit down. As she did, Baalbatos leaned in and looked her in the eyes, maintaining eye contact.
“Well, sir, what did you want to discuss?” She asked, her own eyes staring back. She had blue eyes, light blue like an Earth sky on a sunny day. How charming, he thought.
“Well, Gouta, I have a request for you. Trust me, it is nothing dangerous. And, on the flip side, I guarantee you it won’t be boring. At least I hope so. Gouta, you are a fairly strong individual, yes?”
Gouta nodded. “I like to think so, sir.”
“Excellent. Then, I have a rather simple request for you. I wish for you to be my sparring partner.”
Gouta grinned. “Of course, sir,” she agreed, “But why me? Surely Lord Qrowen would make a better one.”
“Lord Qrowen is a very busy man,” said Baalbatos carefully, “So, I thought to myself, ‘Gouta is quite the warrior. She is clearly the next best choice’. And so, here we are.”
“Sir, you do me a great honor. I hope that I can be an adequate training partner and that I do not disappoint you,” she said with her head held high.
“Oh, Gouta, I have complete confidence that you will be a more than adequate partner for my training. You are one of our best soldiers. And, between you and I, you’re my personal favorite soldier,” enthused Baalbatos, smiling sweetly. And he was telling the truth. She was his favorite, and for reasons other than that he found her pretty. She had plenty of talents, and fighting was one of them.
“Sir, I… Thank you,” she said softly, “That means a lot. It means so much that you trust me and believe in me. Especially, like you said, since I’m a Brenchian. And I think I know what you mean when you said that some people do not like me here.”
Baalbatos raised an eyebrow, curious. “Wait, what do you mean by that Gouta? Are people harassing you?” He asked, almost demanded.
“Well, no” she tempered, “But people do give me dirty looks around the compound, like they don’t want me here.”
Baalbatos scoffed and shook his head. “My dear, they are simply jealous of you and your skills. Pay them no mind, and if they try anything, bring me names and I will deal with it. I will not have people harassing one of our most loyal soldiers.”
“Sir, thank you,” she said softly.
“It’s no trouble, Gouta. It is my pleasure even,” affirmed the silvery haired demon, “But there is one more thing. You do not have to call me ‘sir’. Baalbatos will suffice. I think that if we are going to be sparring partners, you might as well address me as such.”
“Yes, sir- I mean- Baalbatos. Thank you again for providing me with these opportunities. I promise you that I won’t squander them.”
Baalbatos smiled, a smile full of confidence. “I know you won’t, Gouta. And trust me, there will be plenty more opportunities for you. And I know someone as intelligent as yourself won’t let them go to waste.”
Gouta shook her head fervently. “No,” she exclaimed, “I definitely won’t.”
“Good,” laughed the demon softly, “Now, take this opportunity to relax. For we begin training tomorrow.”
(I’ll take PL with heavy weights bonus, please!)
(PL: 1000)
Baalbatos shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His entire body ached. It was the new weighted clothing that he was wearing. He’d heard tales of those warriors who grew stronger with the use of weighted clothing, and he was inclined to believe it. Partially, because he had done his own research. Baalbatos was a man who was loathe to accept simple anecdotes as evidence for anything. No, he needed sources and he needed them in a report, with plenty of statistics and citations to back them up. So, when his research had indeed indicated that weighted clothing did indeed accelerate the growth of physical strength by a large amount, he thought to himself that he would be a fool not to acquire some.
Of course, they had cost money. Baalbatos had to pull from his personal wealth to get them, and they had not been cheap. He also had to have them brought in from off-world. But he thought it was worth it. They were crafted by masters on a little backwater planet, made especially for him. If they hadn’t been… He’d probably be in much worse shape than he was now. Still, in time, he might get used to the presence of these weights. With training too, he thought. Speaking of which… Baalbatos’s eyes drifted up to the clock on the wall. His sparring partner was not there yet.
“Ah, well,” he mumbled, “They have some time yet.”
Baalbatos had been early. He always was early, at least when he could be. He’d heard a saying on Earth once. Something along the lines of ‘the early bird eats the worm’. Baalbatos had always found Earth’s little colloquialisms charming. They were much cuter than the proverbs of the Demon Realm. Though. this probably went without saying. The idioms of his realm of origin were often quite a bit more… bloody and violent. They’d fit more in with a Saiyan culture than with Earth, now that he considered it.
Baalbatos stared at the clock again. Sometimes, he told himself, he hated being early. But he knew that he had to keep up appearances. Punctuality was an important quality for a leader. And he always wanted to be the first to meetings. It made him look better. And more importantly, it made those who arrived after him look worse. Who was more dedicated to the task at hand? The person who showed up first, or the person who showed up after them? Baalbatos would let it speak for itself.
Of course, Baalbatos was not trying to make his incoming associate look worse. No, that was not the point of today’s meeting, to play at petty politics. His purpose today was more practical. He needed to train, especially if he were to ever catch up to Lord Qrowen. Yes, he thought, catching up to Lord Qrowen was important. The demon had to show that he was, at the very least, competent. If he didn’t, he might soon find himself wandering space. Or, if worst came to worst, his neck might meet the cold touch of a chopping block. And he quite liked his neck the way it was: whole and keeping his head attached to his body.
Finally, the mechanical door of the room slid open and in stepped Gouta, the Brenchian mercenary turned loyal soldier. “Greetings, sir! You called me here?” She exclaimed, a certain enthusiasm in her voice.
“Ah, Gouta,” began the lilac-toned demon, “It is good to see you. Sit, sit, we have a few things to discuss.”
Baalbatos gestured to the chair across from him, meaning for the Brench wench to sit down. As she did, Baalbatos leaned in and looked her in the eyes, maintaining eye contact.
“Well, sir, what did you want to discuss?” She asked, her own eyes staring back. She had blue eyes, light blue like an Earth sky on a sunny day. How charming, he thought.
“Well, Gouta, I have a request for you. Trust me, it is nothing dangerous. And, on the flip side, I guarantee you it won’t be boring. At least I hope so. Gouta, you are a fairly strong individual, yes?”
Gouta nodded. “I like to think so, sir.”
“Excellent. Then, I have a rather simple request for you. I wish for you to be my sparring partner.”
Gouta grinned. “Of course, sir,” she agreed, “But why me? Surely Lord Qrowen would make a better one.”
“Lord Qrowen is a very busy man,” said Baalbatos carefully, “So, I thought to myself, ‘Gouta is quite the warrior. She is clearly the next best choice’. And so, here we are.”
“Sir, you do me a great honor. I hope that I can be an adequate training partner and that I do not disappoint you,” she said with her head held high.
“Oh, Gouta, I have complete confidence that you will be a more than adequate partner for my training. You are one of our best soldiers. And, between you and I, you’re my personal favorite soldier,” enthused Baalbatos, smiling sweetly. And he was telling the truth. She was his favorite, and for reasons other than that he found her pretty. She had plenty of talents, and fighting was one of them.
“Sir, I… Thank you,” she said softly, “That means a lot. It means so much that you trust me and believe in me. Especially, like you said, since I’m a Brenchian. And I think I know what you mean when you said that some people do not like me here.”
Baalbatos raised an eyebrow, curious. “Wait, what do you mean by that Gouta? Are people harassing you?” He asked, almost demanded.
“Well, no” she tempered, “But people do give me dirty looks around the compound, like they don’t want me here.”
Baalbatos scoffed and shook his head. “My dear, they are simply jealous of you and your skills. Pay them no mind, and if they try anything, bring me names and I will deal with it. I will not have people harassing one of our most loyal soldiers.”
“Sir, thank you,” she said softly.
“It’s no trouble, Gouta. It is my pleasure even,” affirmed the silvery haired demon, “But there is one more thing. You do not have to call me ‘sir’. Baalbatos will suffice. I think that if we are going to be sparring partners, you might as well address me as such.”
“Yes, sir- I mean- Baalbatos. Thank you again for providing me with these opportunities. I promise you that I won’t squander them.”
Baalbatos smiled, a smile full of confidence. “I know you won’t, Gouta. And trust me, there will be plenty more opportunities for you. And I know someone as intelligent as yourself won’t let them go to waste.”
Gouta shook her head fervently. “No,” she exclaimed, “I definitely won’t.”
“Good,” laughed the demon softly, “Now, take this opportunity to relax. For we begin training tomorrow.”
(I’ll take PL with heavy weights bonus, please!)