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Post by Lord Zasham on Oct 11, 2013 20:31:23 GMT -5
William had gotten an offer he couldn't possibly refuse. However the tournament, and the events which followed, proved to the young boy one impossible truth: he didn't know how to fight. This opportunity could mean his mother’s life; and his ability in battle may play a pivotal role. Not having the option to fail, he came to the realization that he needed training. Another Deliverer, somewhat of a mentor to young Willie, told the boy about the greatest warrior of the Collective, Vespasian.
“He was a master of gladiators and had train many a champion,” William was told. He took the advice in confidence and sought out this slave turned master. However as he approached he became nervous; the barbaric and overbearing building which housed it all was quite intimidating.
Not to mention he had heard that the man Vespasian was a “bit” of a hard ass. Willie foresaw that that would be a “bit” of an understatement. With a few deep breaths he charged in there, finding an arena of sorts within. Looking around he called out.
“Is there anybody here? I’m looking for a… Vespasian?”
The last word came out a little dry; his nerves getting to him. To say he was indeed nervous would be the truest understatement. But he thought of his father’s dying words, and his mother’s possibly dire fate, and kept it together.
At least, as well as he could…
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Post by Deleted on Oct 20, 2013 0:02:31 GMT -5
Vespasian had watched the tournament for the most part unimpeded by the combatants it was actually rather disappointing as he had figured that at least one of the entrants would have found their way over his little abode. But the sad fact was that he was going to never have someone stop by for a proper training, as many in the tournament needed such things, which was a sad fact. Due to the tournament Vespasian had to postpone all of his gladiatorial matches that had lined up. This left a back log of fighters that needed to prove their worth and those that needed to meet their end. But he was not going to stick his nose where it didn’t belong, Zex had made that perfectly clear when he took over the station and had Wrath show who was the superior being. To this day Vespasian was not stupid enough to question the mysterious leader of Alpha Prime.
He stood in his arena as he barked commands at some of the trainees to clean certain parts of the arena of the blood that had stained the walls for quite some time but also of the trash the piece of shit contestants had left in his domain. Suddenly he heard a voice from behind him and he merely glanced behind him to figure out what was going on.
“Is there anybody here? I’m looking for a… Vespasian?” A meek voice called out. When Vespasian turned to see what was there he was far from impressed and thus turned back to his gladiators.
“I am Vespasian. If you are here delivering the food for the rest of the gladiators just leave it in the dorms. I am busy right now and do not feel like dealing with weaklings.” The trainer called out in disgust. He was in no mood to deal with pathetic fighters at the current moment.
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Post by Lord Zasham on Oct 22, 2013 12:18:13 GMT -5
A man turned around and his overbearing stature and intimidating glare gave him away before words ever left his lips. With an unimpressed snort he turned back to his gladiators.
“I am Vespasian. If you are here delivering the food for the rest of the gladiators just leave it in the dorms. I am busy right now and do not feel like dealing with weaklings.”
Many would feel insulted, if not by the first statement then certainly by the second, but William could understand. Always able to see things clearly, thanks to a lack of arrogance or confidence, the boy looked down at himself. He was not dressed like a warrior, but rather a simple member of the populace, and his kind eyes betrayed him at every turn. By all appearances, he did too appear as a weakling. It wasn’t a far stretch; he had been a “weakling” all his life.
“Oh I see…”
He muttered as he stared at his shoes. On any other day, under any other circumstances, Willie would have obeyed the man’s wishes. Then again, on another day and under different circumstances, he would never have stepped foot within the arena in the first place. The mission William had been assigned by Prometheus Zex was undoubtedly a hazardous one, otherwise having the two candidates fight to the death would’ve been superfluous. Then an idea came to him.
“You know, I heard a story of a man, born a slave, who entered this arena long ago. When he exited, bathed in the blood of the fallen, he was reborn a champion and retained the greatest gift; freedom. People say he was the finest fighter in the galaxy; that he could forge dragons from mice within his arena. I was told that a Master lived here...”
It was a dangerous game he was playing as he turned, as if to leave. This man was pride incarnate, no different than he was pain in human form. To goad him might prove a very agonizing mistake but it was one he was willing to take to persevere. His mother, his sister, and now the Lord of Alpha Prime itself relied on him; and he couldn’t afford to let down any of them.
“But I guess the stories were wrong…”
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Post by Deleted on Nov 1, 2013 0:21:49 GMT -5
“You know, I heard a story of a man, born a slave, who entered this arena long ago. When he exited, bathed in the blood of the fallen, he was reborn a champion and retained the greatest gift; freedom. People say he was the finest fighter in the galaxy; that he could forge dragons from mice within his arena. I was told that a Master lived here... But I guess the stories were wrong…” The little voice called out as Vespasian turned his back to him.
The gladiator could not believe what he had heard. His ability to train those that were strong enough to come and visit him was being called into question by a pathetic little runt that did not deserve the honor of carrying his jockstrap. Vespasian turned back to the little man as he clicked his jaw back and forth. This little worm standing before him was nothing more than a speck of dirt.
“Are you seriously calling my abilities into question? I am Vespasian! Gladiator of the Alpha Prime Pits! The Four Armed Lion! To train you would take no effort on my part. I can turn you into one of the universe’s strongest fighters!” Vespasian touted with pride. He was sure of it. How could he have any real trouble with him? He was the great trainer of Omega after all, if he couldn’t do it then no one could.
“So shrimp, what is the name of the fool that is going to get crushed under my training?” Vespasian asked as he stepped forward to him.
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Post by Lord Zasham on Nov 1, 2013 12:31:34 GMT -5
It worked better than he had hoped. The verbal slight had spun the warrior on his heels to face the meager William Watson Jr. The apparent human mirrored the action to a slower degree, “casually” turning in an attempt to hide his desperation.
“Are you seriously calling my abilities into question? I am Vespasian! Gladiator of the Alpha Prime Pits! The Four Armed Lion! To train you would take no effort on my part. I can turn you into one of the universe’s strongest fighters!”
The Master of the Pits roared, his intense power level flexing in unison with his pride. It might have worked too well, Willie thought to himself. Poking a bear or the Lion in this case, is never an advised tactic, though the human had little choice left. He could not simply unveil who his employer was, though the name Prometheus Zex could grant him near anything within the confines of Alpha Prime.
He was a man of the utmost secrecy, revealing only what would drive his diabolical plans forward. If William had simply implied who he was working for, he may have as well signed his own death certificate; or worse yet, those of his mother and sister. Thus he had to goad the man, figuring that was the only way to gain his attention.
“So shrimp, what is the name of the fool that is going to get crushed under my training?”
An insult, one Willie had heard many times, in many different ways, due to his rather meek appearance. It didn’t faze him, as his newfound strength in weeks passed had given him, a little, confidence despite his apparent meekness. William’s heart ached at Vespasian remark of him being “crushed” though he did not fear it for he knew he would overcome. To fail would be to fail his family; something he would not allow.
“My name, Master Vespasian, is William Watson Jr., though friends and family call me Willie. It is an honor to train with you.”
He remarked in humbled honesty. Though he had never been the fighting type, he had always had the utmost respect for honorable warriors; and what was more honorable, or respectable, than a man who forged his own freedom in the bowels of hell itself? Willie knew he was in for a world of pain but it would be worth it.
Not only would William train with one of the greatest martial arts masters in the galaxy but he would be as prepared as possible for his mission. After all, his ability to fight would greatly impact the result of the mission; a mission in which his mother’s life hung in the balance.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 13, 2013 16:11:12 GMT -5
“My name, Master Vespasian, is William Watson Jr., though friends and family call me Willie. It is an honor to train with you." The little man spoke in a weak tone before Vespasian. It was going to take a great deal of training but he believed he was going to be able to turn this measly piece of slime into some semblance of a warrior. The first thing that had to be done was to change that woefully pitiful name. Something that gave him to train harder, something to inspire him to change his very being, and that was simple enough to remember the little maggot in front of him.
“First thing is first, if I am going to train you that is not the name that you are going to go by. No you need something different.” Vespasian thought for a moment before speaking again, “From now on you will be called Whatever Eternal Loser Patrolman, also known as W.E.L.P.” Vespasian proclaimed with pride for thinking of the name. People often claimed that Vespasian was far from intelligent and that he was just a simple thug. But that name showed his true cunning and smarts shine through like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. He turned away from WELP and began to rummage through some of the crates that one of his gladiators had left by his feet. Though after a quick search through all the boxes that sat at his feet he let out a bit of a grunt. He marched off towards one of the gladiators that was carrying another crate he stopped the man with a firm hand down on his shoulder. The man, alien creature, thing stopped in his place as Vespasian circled around front. Quickly he leafed through the crate until he found exactly what he was looking for.
“In order to get you anywhere close to being any kind of force in the ring we are going to need to speed up your training quite a bit.” Vespasian spoke as he approached WELP again. “Put these on and then we can start with your daily beatings…I mean training.” Vespasian laughed as he tossed the weighted clothing in his hand at WELP.
(Weights have been presented in rp as requested. Please reflect that in grading.)
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Post by Lord Zasham on Nov 20, 2013 7:09:53 GMT -5
The Grand Champion of the Arena, and William’s new Master, Vespasian looked down upon the whelp of a human. It was needless to say that he was intimidated. Willie could imagine the brutish warrior squishing his skull betwixt his biceps with one flex. Thus when he lingered for a few moments before speaking, the boy swore he saw the cogs turning in his mind. It was a terrifying thought, what things he could be conjuring. What horrifying activities could he be planning for young William? The boy shuttered at the thought.
“First thing is first, if I am going to train you that is not the name that you are going to go by. No you need something different.”
A wave of relief washed over Willie when he realized his new Master’s mind was not busy with thoughts of torturous “exercises.” A small echo in the back of his mind told him the worst was yet to come.
“From now on you will be called Whatever Eternal Loser Patrolman, also known as W.E.L.P.”
Out of gut reaction William almost laughed but stifled it before it could see light; afraid of the potentially dire consequences. The proud look on the rugged gladiator’s face tickled him further but he continued to hold a straight face. Vespasian then turned away and began sifting through a box that a gladiator trainee had left at his feet recently.
Apparently not finding what he was searching for, and noticing another trainee walking by with another box, the Master Gladiator walked over to the man before laying a mighty paw on his shoulder. The man froze as his master came around to investigate the contents of the box. Willie’s stomach churned when Vespasian found the source of his search.
“In order to get you anywhere close to being any kind of force in the ring we are going to need to speed up your training quite a bit.”
Looking to his hands the boy found grieves in one hand and gauntlets and belt in the other. The fact that his arms were flexed as if under some kind of stress worried him.
“Put these on and then we can start with your daily beatings…I mean training.”
Vespasian tossed the apparel to his new apprentice with a laugh. William lifted his hands to catch them as if they were any other clothing, only to be seriously surprised. Their inexplicable immense weight caught him hard, unbalancing him before sending him straight to the ground back first with an audible thud. They knocked the air clean out of him, Willie gasped as he tried to adjust the weight so he could sit up. Not one to keep his violent Master waiting, he quickly pulled off his own shoes. Slipping on the gladiatorial style grieves he stood before pulling on the gauntlets and finally strapping on the belt. They were similar in appearance to Vespasian’s own gear though less grand, naturally.
The heavily weighted clothing made an immense difference; it was a constant strain on his entire body. Willie would never reject a gift though, never willing to feel rude. More so however, he trusted Vespasian on such matters. He had utter faith in his Master’s training, though he knew not why. For others it was the legends surrounding him which bred their loyalty. For Willie it was his aura; the gladiator’s spirit was intense and brilliant in its strength.
The boy only hoped such traits would rub off on him in the trials to come.
"Ready, Master."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 4, 2013 18:24:05 GMT -5
W.E.L.P. did exactly as told and put the weighted clothing on, though it caught the little pip squeak by surprise causing him almost to drop them on the floor. While it would be understandable to have been caught off guard by them to Vespasian, the relentless trainer on Alpha Prime, it was more of a sign of disrespect. If he had dropped the weighted clothing just because he was surprised by the weight of them then there was no way that the trainee was ready to endure the hell that was before them. It was for this reason that many gladiators before W.E.L.P. had been sent away, and when they didn’t leave they were either sent away forcefully or left in the arena to tend to their missing limbs. Vespasian had earned his right to do as he pleased everyone else had not, and as such needed to listen to his commands no matter how ridiculous. “Good. You passed the entrance exam into my training. As simple as it is you would be surprised how many people actually seem to fail. I mean they are simple weight clothing; it wasn’t like they had to carry a Xolertan bull bug on their back as they fought off five other gladiators.” Vespasian complained as he turned and walked away once again. “I had to do that once. Five gladiators and I all entered the arena ring together. We were told that only one of us was walking out, so the fight starts and when it was no longer entertaining enough the arena master release the Xolertan bull bug. The other gladiators cowered in fear but I didn’t. No, I charged right at the creature and killed it with just a two inch blade! The gore was everywhere! And in my time of vulnerability the other gladiators pounced,” Vespasian rambled on as he grabbed a simple metal bar and a remote sitting beside it. After doing so he began to return to W.E.L.P. “I ended up using the Xolertan bull bug’s body as a weapon and club the rest of the fools to death. That was a fun fight. Though not as treacherous as the fight with Ptolemaic Tiger brood that I had to take on with nothing but the pants on my very muscular legs. But that is another story for another time. Take this.” Vespasian handed W.E.L.P. the bar and took several steps backwards. This was one of his favorite tests to do. His fingers danced over the remote control before finally resting on the number of two hundred. With a jab of his finger the bar would instantly increase to two hundred pounds of weight without warning. If he managed to keep the bar upright then the weight would only be increased to four hundred and then to six hundred. “So tell me W.E.L.P., why did you want to put yourself through the torture of training with a person like me?” Vespasian asked as he sat down on a nearby box while he enjoyed the show. FYI: Xolertan Bull Bug= www.deviantart.com/?q=alien+bull#/art/Bull-Black-Tongue-287149734?_sid=6c92dc96Ptolemaic Tiger= www.deviantart.com/?q=alien+bull#/art/Caecuraptor-216018117?_sid=6ddac965(Sorry the links won't work properly for me) |
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Post by Lord Zasham on Dec 9, 2013 22:47:20 GMT -5
“Good. You passed the entrance exam into my training. As simple as it is you would be surprised how many people actually seem to fail. I mean they are simple weight clothing; it wasn’t like they had to carry a Xolertan bull bug on their back as they fought off five other gladiators.”
William nodded, happy to have passed this unnoticed exam. He would have let out a sigh of relief but the intense weight was making it near impossible to inhale. It was almost as if his overall power was halved or something. Vespasian began reciting a story in well-rehearsed fashion.
“I had to do that once. Five gladiators and I all entered the arena ring together. We were told that only one of us was walking out, so the fight starts and when it was no longer entertaining enough the arena master release the Xolertan bull bug. The other gladiators cowered in fear but I didn’t. No, I charged right at the creature and killed it with just a two inch blade! The gore was everywhere! And in my time of vulnerability the other gladiators pounced.”
The apparent human’s new master blustered on as he turned away from his new student and took several steps away. Fighting through his own meagerness in an effort to master this new weight, William listened on intently, awed by thoughts of the fearsome beast and treacherous gladiators.
“I ended up using the Xolertan bull bug’s body as a weapon and club the rest of the fools to death. That was a fun fight. Though not as treacherous as the fight with Ptolemaic Tiger brood that I had to take on with nothing but the pants on my very muscular legs. But that is another story for another time. Take this.”
Vespasian had picked up a stick of some sorts as well as a remote, of which he handed the former to Willie. The wily veteran then frantically pressed away at the remote before finally looking back to the timid boy with a malevolent smile. He then hit one last button and without warning the seemingly simple stick exponentially increased in weight; to the sum of two hundred pounds.
“Holy hell!”
The boy cursed as he readjusted his feet in a struggle to keep the device upright. Before the explosion which lead to his fantastic increase in strength, this mere weight would have been enough to drop the boy to the ground instantly; possibly injure him. Since the incident however, such a weight was manageable. The heavily weighted clothing made it nonetheless trying.
“So tell me W.E.L.P., why did you want to put yourself through the torture of training with a person like me?”
With two hundred pounds proving ineffective, the arena champion turned it up. The cylindrical machine doubled in weight, once more surprising the boy. Weakened by the clothing, he ended up lowering it from in front of him to a deadlift position. Willie could feel the intense burn in his legs and arms the exercise was incurring. Through his concentration he mustered a response, not wanting to be rude.
“I have been offered a job; a position with a very influencial man in the Omega Collective. He has promised me the one thing I desire most, to cure my mother of the disease which dooms her.”
Noticing Willie’s resolve, Vespasian once more cranks up the remote until the stick is thrice its original weight. Six hundred pounds became twelve hundred thanks to the addition weighting from his new training attire. Sweat began to bead upon his brow. Then it ran down his face as it contorted with the struggle.
“I am afraid that I will not be strong enough or skilled enough to accomplish what’s asked of me. That is why I came to you. I was told you could makes lions from lambs. Master, I cannot fail my employer because it would mean failing both my mother and little sister.”
Though he had never explicitly stated the purpose of the challenge, William inferred the rules and obeyed to the best of his ability. So when he fell to his knees, with all his strength and strained muscles, he held the torture device off the ground.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2013 0:21:28 GMT -5
“A job huh? It is an interesting motive to try and become more powerful. Personally fighting for money is not exactly an ideal sort of situation. I know it is strange to hear from me especially but it never ends up being a great way to get ahead in life.” Vespasian said as he rubbed the back of his head. He had seen numerous fighters go into the arena only to fight for money and often times they were some of the first to die. They never truly prepared themselves for the battle and were often cowardly when it came to staring death in the face. It was in those moments that you realized you could never trust those people to be besides you in the heat of battle.
“Even if you enter into battle in order to obtain a cure for your ailing mother you still run the risk of fighting for the same reason as mercenaries. When you fight for reasons such as that you never fully commit yourself to the purpose of war. To kill the person opposite of you or prepare yourself for the idea that someone may have no other desire but to rip your head off. Things like that are hard to justify when you are being paid,” Vespasian warned. He had seen too many of his friends be recruited by the man that no doubt was recruiting W.E.L.P. His friends were among the strongest in the Collective and valuable fighters to have on the payroll.
“Tell me W.E.L.P. This influential person here in the Collective is it Prometheus Zex?” Vespasian asked as his finger twitched over the control panel on the remote increasing the weight even more even though W.E.L.P. was already on his knees struggling to hold on as it was.
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Post by Lord Zasham on Dec 24, 2013 9:05:38 GMT -5
“A job huh? It is an interesting motive to try and become more powerful. Personally fighting for money is not exactly an ideal sort of situation. I know it is strange to hear from me especially but it never ends up being a great way to get ahead in life.”
Master Vespasian lectured as he massaged the rear of his skull. Willie, continuing his struggle against the demonic device, pulled one leg up pressing the flat of his foot against the ground as he attempted to do the same with the other. With great effort he was able to stand once more; though the pain it incurred was intense. Despite the distraction, he did his best to pay attention to his Master’s every word. Though a tad eccentric, he was still a Master of the Martial Arts and a legendary gladiator; there was bound to be wisdom hidden in his dialogue.
“Even if you enter into battle in order to obtain a cure for your ailing mother you still run the risk of fighting for the same reason as mercenaries. When you fight for reasons such as that you never fully commit yourself to the purpose of war. To kill the person opposite of you or prepare yourself for the idea that someone may have no other desire but to rip your head off. Things like that are hard to justify when you are being paid.”
William certainly didn’t want to kill anyone. It was only recently in which he became able to hurt others; and he wasn’t even fond of that. He believed there to be truths in his Master’s words; he couldn’t imagine being paid to hurt others, nonetheless kill. As a Deliverer he was accustomed to meeting enemies who ‘have no other desire but to rip [his] head off.’ That was always justified; the more dangerous the package the higher the pay. But to kill? For money? William doubted he was capable of it.
“Tell me W.E.L.P. This influential person here in the Collective is it Prometheus Zex?”
Willie was a mixture of surprised and impressed by Vespasian’s insight. Then again he had been on Alpha Prime for many years and, due to his reputation and connections no doubt, must know all the players of the hollowed out asteroid. Even still, Prometheus Zex was impossibly secretive, giving little away in any conversation other than the bare essentials.
“Actually, yes-“
In the midst of his reply the rod’s weight was increase once more; this time to a cool eight hundred pounds. Yet another surprise, William flopped about in an attempt to stabilize, but having only just stood, he found the task impossibly. Though as he fell, he tucked the stick against his chest and turned. Striking the ground back first, the ever increasing mass pressed down despite his vain attempt to bench press it off his sternum.
“Yes Master, Prometheus Zex is my employer. And sir I doubt I could kill for money or personal gain… But if anything could make me deal death or face it down; it would be my mother’s life.”
He said with absolute resolution as he the stick began to rise from his chest; his arms noticeably shaking.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 28, 2013 21:03:47 GMT -5
The poor little man didn’t know what he was getting into when he signed up for Vespasian’s training. The gladiator noticed that the surprised look on his face when Vespasian asked to see if Zex had been hiring poor little W.E.L.P. to the job and then the look was only amplified tenfold when the bar increased in weight again. Barely managing to hold it off the ground W.E.L.P. was forced onto his back into a bench press situation. This was just the first lesson and thus far he was proving that he was worth the legendary gladiator’s time. But his priorities were still messed up.
“You see W.E.L.P. while many would find that reason quite admirable to fight there is only one truth to it. They are wrong. When you go into battle you must think on one thing and one thing alone, staying alive. Anything else that is on your mind is only going to serve as a distraction to you in the midst of battle when you should be focusing on how to deal with your opponent standing right in front of you.” Vespasian lectured as he rose to his feet. He walked over to W.E.L.P. as the bar slowly began to rise despite his arms violently shaking at the weight.
“As for knowing about your employer it is hard not to notice his movements if you are looking for them. You see during his rise to power he approached several gladiators that I fought alongside, they were great fighters. They all disappeared after going to work with him and I have never heard from them again. The only thing I can assume at this point is that every single one of them is dead. Thus leading to my point…” Vespasian spoke as he put his foot on the bar. He slowly began to press down on the bar with his foot. “Zex will only use you…until you are worth nothing to him…and then he will crush you…and never look back…”
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Post by Lord Zasham on Jan 12, 2014 23:00:49 GMT -5
“You see W.E.L.P. while many would find that reason quite admirable to fight there is only one truth to it. They are wrong. When you go into battle you must think on one thing and one thing alone, staying alive. Anything else that is on your mind is only going to serve as a distraction to you in the midst of battle when you should be focusing on how to deal with your opponent standing right in front of you.”
The master gladiator declared as he stood from his relaxed position. William strained to listen to Vespasian’s words as he pushed the bar away from his chest. Willie’s muscles burned and his breathing was labored, but he managed to keep up with his master’s lesson. He found it hard to agree though; his family may serve as a ‘distraction’ in the midst of battle, but they were also his sole reason for fighting in the first place.
“I understand master but my family is all I fight for; I find no joy in harming others, but I can’t argue your point that focus is key in combat.”
In the heat of battle a split second could mean the difference between defeat and victory; life and death. Willie would need to learn to separate himself from his worries when in combat. It would play a pivotal part in his survival in the trials to come.
“As for knowing about your employer it is hard not to notice his movements if you are looking for them. You see during his rise to power he approached several gladiators that I fought alongside, they were great fighters. They all disappeared after going to work with him and I have never heard from them again. The only thing I can assume at this point is that every single one of them is dead. Thus leading to my point…”
William was a little surprised; he did not expect Vespasian to be so astute and cunning. He had seemed a blunt force who hit first and spoke second. There appeared to be more finesse behind his brutish exterior than Watson had expected. The information he shared upon Willie’s new ‘employer’ was as enlightening as frightening.
What happened to his friends? Will the same fate befall me? The boy found it hard to believe that any ally of Vespasian could be killed, especially if they were anything like him. However his thoughts were pulled back to the here and now as his master placed an armored boot upon the bar, slowly pushing down as he finished his thought.
“Zex will only use you…until you are worth nothing to him…and then he will crush you…and never look back…”
The bar, which Willie had only just began to lift, began to descend once more, until he felt its weight upon his sternum. He could not deny anything that Vespasian claimed; after all he knew so little about the Lord of Alpha Prime. It did not change his situation though nor his mind on working for the shady mastermind though. His choice may come to hurt him in the end, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make, for his mother.
“If that is true…”
He mustered through clenched teeth. Using all his strength he pushed the bar, and by extension the gladiator’s foot, up before jerking his whole body to the side, rolling sideways away from his master. In mid spin he brought a knee up, repositioning his weight so as to roll into a knelt stance; the device still held by both hands in front of his chest.
“Then it is a fate I will have to face, because my mother’s health is the payment for my service.”
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2014 23:41:50 GMT -5
“That would be deemed worthy…but I still don’t care.” Vespasian stated coldly as he flipped his toes underneath the bar and popped it into the air with ease. While W.E.L.P. might have had trouble with the weight Vespasian did not and in fact could wield it with ease. Once it was in the air the arena master would snatch it out of the air and then charge after W.E.L.P. Lifting weights would not make a strong fighter, it would make a strong person but not a strong fighter. A strong fighter was formed through experience in combat and nothing else. You could study fighting or watch tapes but until you got in the fight itself no one truly knew how they were going to react to what is going on in front of them.
He would close the distance quickly and then swing the stick, with the full weight still applied, at the head of the young W.E.L.P. It would be quick, much quicker than he would probably expect. If he managed to block it would no doubt strain the young fighter because of the momentum if he managed to keep his footing. If he didn’t then he would go flying through the air. In either case Vespasian would be relentless in his attack driving home that W.E.L.P. could only focus on the fight in front of him.
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Post by Lord Zasham on Apr 14, 2014 14:39:37 GMT -5
“That would be deemed worthy…but I still don’t care.”
The Master of the Arena stated cold heartedly. William could not convince him that his intentions were noble, or perhaps the intent was meaningless to him. Maybe it was Willie, always so concerned with the wellbeing of everyone else, who was missing the point. As he would soon find out, Vespasian was far more ‘convincing’ than the apparent human boy. With a flick of his big toe the brutish man knocked the bar out of his new pupil’s hands and into the air.
Whether it was meant to discourage the boy, as he was apparently far, far weaker than the man before him or just a chance for his new Master to show off his might, William could not tell. It turned out not to matter in the grand scheme of things, as the important action was what he did next with the infernal contraption. Pulling the device out of the air he immediately swung it, with it still at maximum weight, at Willie’s face.
“Oh sh-”
The young boy had no idea what his Master had planned. At first he thought the move was signaling the next step of training; in a way he was right though the transition was not quite what he had expected. Not thinking his next move would be a rather brutal attack, William did not prepare himself for what came next. It would not have mattered much however as he paled in comparison to his Master’s power.
Thus he could barely lift an arm when the bar slammed into his skull. The incredible momentum carried into the boy and sent him flying. Well, almost. Due to the angle in which he was struck, he ended up skipping haphazardly across the sand before becoming a wall decoration. Letting out a long, painful sigh his vision recollected as he looked at his upside down Master.
Turned out he had been implanted inverted into the heavy stone wall. The odd viewpoint did not make the charging Vespasian any less terrifying however. He had just enough time to cross his forearms over his chest before another powerful punch exploded the whole section of the wall which Willie had come to rest. Meanwhile a straight line of dust and debris continued up through the stands, coming to a halt halfway up.
Awkwardly sitting on piles of loose and shattered stones, William swore he saw singing and dancing stars circling his head. Vespasian was already stomping up the path Willie’s body had made through the stands, very determined to make his point. Between the back to back concussions it was hard for Willie to think nonetheless react; especially considering he was still bogged down by the gladiatorial training weights. Still rattled from the previous attacks, the boy was left to act off instinct, throwing up both hands and unleashing a full powered Vanishing Beam into Vespasian just as he reached him.
It would most likely do little if anything at all but William was just reacting to the situation; he was never going to be able to do a thing if he could not get even momentary separation and reprieve. In the end it was the only other option besides eating another gladiator fist sandwich, and he was already quite full.
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