voidtreckerexpress | Kick, Punch, It's All In the Mind

Who: Dread and YOU?!
What: Big guy on train.
Where: Various places
When: Bassoon 22.

Working Hard?

Dread never shirked chores, feeling that keeping the place clean was only fair when so many people had to coexist in such close quarters. Which meant today said people got treated to the incredible sight of the massive Roagadyn bent over, manipulating a broom meant for someone a foot shorter than him and with far smaller hands. No, this wasn't today's entertainment -- or okay, it wasn't intended to be the entertainment, but even Dread couldn't blame anyone for pointing and laughing.

Despite the imperfect tools, though, Dread proved to be surprisingly patient and thorough, laboriously sweeping up dust and grit from even the narrowest corners around the sleeper cabins. How one train could get so messy was beyond him...

Hardly Working

Actual training here was difficult -- he had to hold back quite a bit when it came to punching a bag, simply because unleashing full-force would powder the thing if he hit it too much, too long. But the arts of the monk were as much about movement and flow as they were about power. That he could, and most needed to, practice.

And the pattern did flow -- a barrage of punches into one solid strike, his other hand upwards for power and balance before he pulled both fists back with a little twist of one around the other. Then a right hook, a left hook, and momentum spun him around into a vicious roundhouse kick -- then a second, as he planted his left foot to strike now with the right.

The basics, simple and straightforward, things he'd learned way back under the watchful if ridiculous eye of the Holyfist as a pugilist. Soothing and simple, meditative in their way. The only real flaw was... well, he took up a lot of room doing things like that.

Feed Me, Sarai

One of the benefits of having his wife here was canceling out one of the major issues of being him -- namely, that a guy his size with his muscle mass had to intake one hell of a lot of calories. Dread did his damndest not to overburden anyone or force anyone to late shifts in the kitchen... but Sarai knew perfectly well how much he needed to eat, and never hesitated to volunteer herself as his chef. Or force him to accept her in that role.

So sprawled out over an unfair amount of bench, Dread kept a vigilant watch over the dumbwaiter as down below, his cheerfully-singing wife sent up another couple of salmon burgers. One more plate destined to join the pile of three next to him...

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Evie's good at working around Dread. She didn't take up much space, for starters, and living on the Isle taught her how to squeeze through tight spaces very well. So with the royal grace her mother thoroughly trained into her, Evie worked hard cleaning. She was dusting shelves, putting things away, throwing out trash and watching Dread carefully.

"What if we found a way to build you a broom and mop your size? I know we only have these assigned chores for a short amount of time, and Bassoon is almost over. But I'm sure we can figure something out, right?"

"The train would probably take it away," Dread groused. Normally not one to complain, he'd taken the disappearance of the clothing he'd worked so hard on a little personally.

But getting that out was all he needed, and Dread paused in his sweeping so he could straighten up, one hand on his back for support. "Still. It would be nice."

"Well, maybe there's a spell I can use in the spellbook I arrived with? Something temporary. That way, once we're done with the broom, we can put it back as is, and don't have to worry about someone taking it?"

She's becoming a bit more proficient at spell-casting, and would love the opportunity to give this a try.

"If you want, I can research it later tonight."

Raven had finally decided to investigate the 'gym' more fully after a brief walk through of it when she'd first arrived. There wasn't much to see really, as she wasn't surprised by the fact that it was narrower than expected.

She was also only mildly surprised to find the space occupied. She recognized kata when she saw it, thanks to observing Robin many times before. Occasionally training with him too. Raven stayed quiet, cloak and cowl over her train-uniform, just observing and not interrupting.

It was peaceful, watching the bigger man perform his kata.

Hmm. Tempting, even if it reminded him of Matoya's animated brooms just a little bit, but...

"Is there a price for that sort of magic?"

'Peaceful' was a heck of a way to refer to the arts that had taken down beings considered gods by others... but that didn't mean she was wrong. With less force behind them than his full, the rhythm really did make for a soothing flow.

"Interested in learning?" he said, the words not interrupting the sequence.

A blink beneath her cowl. "I know some already, but I had a team-mate who knew much more." It wasn't entirely an answer to the question asked though.

This time, when Dread landed the two back-to-back kicks, he let momentum carry him till he was facing her.

"Would you consider showing me?"

"A price?" Evie stops dusting the shelf she's been working on, turning to look at her teammate with some confusion.

"I'm afraid I don't follow. You mean a financial payment? Or a risk involved?" Magic is thoroughly mistrusted back home, even now with the Barrier around the Isle down, so Evie has several ideas of what he means, but just needs clarification.

"The latter. Just checking." In case she was cheerfully self-sacrificing, and making the offer without regard for how she might have to perform it.

"There's not much to show, really." Accompanied by a shrug, visible even with the cloak and cowl hiding her pretty well. "This also doesn't seem like the best place to spar." It wasn't a no, though.

"No place here is a good one." He shrugged very slightly, smiling. "But I didn't mean on me anyway."

"I don't really know forms." Although he was right about no place here being a good place. "Rob...my team-mate didn't really teach, although he helped me learn when we sparred."

"Hmm." Dread couldn't say he approved of that -- though a lot of his training had been learning-by-doing, the pugilists' guild had at least made certain he knew the basics and the flow. "Well, several of us are offering classes on things like this."

"I try to avoid fights, if I can." Raven said quietly. "But that's good to know. Do the missions mean there's a lot of fighting?"

"Last mission, if we hadn't fought, goblins would have killed innocent children." Which said everything it needed to about avoiding fights.

"Some fights you can't avoid--believe me, I understand." Perhaps with a bit of unintended heaviness on the last part. Raven had been raised a pacifist, but she knew that sometimes you couldn't avoid a fight. Maybe she'd just have to spend the rest of her life running, and avoiding a fight she couldn't win.

No, Dread totally got where she was coming from. The best way was always to not fight, but such opportunities came up astoundingly infrequently.

"That's why I think we should all be prepared."

"That just means you're smart." Raven shot back, before quieting for a longer pause. "You want me to join a class, probably."

"I think it's a good idea. But that's up to you. You know what you can do and need to do better than I do." He shrugged. Everyone did things a little differently. His own wife had never been able to get anywhere with his arts...

Raven relaxed, marginally--not that it was obvious at all. She appreciated that he wasn't going to be pushy about her needing training or anything. "How many of us here are experienced with emergency situations?"

"A lot." Not all of them, but a significant number in any case. "It's given us cause to wonder."

"How many missions have their been so far?" A pause, and Raven looked down slightly. "Sorry, now I really am interrupting you."

"Because life here is so busy?" He smiled, amused and kind. He could do with more interruptions. "Two, but one they called basically a practice."

Kick, Punch, It's All In the Mind

Working Hard

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Hardly Working [I'm guessing it's in the gym?]

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