Not the Burpees

Log Info

• Title: Not the Burpees
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Cesran
• Place: The Colosseum
• Time: February 5th, 2022
• Summary: Cesran has sought out Aryia as a means of seeking atonement to the forces at be for his deeds. His method of penance? Manual exercise and labour. Not an ounce of magic here to help aid him. Aryia starts him out with some basic exercises, him even managing to land a hit on her. But soon it becomes clear that the pugilist was going to push the archmage's limit as much as possible, her barely letting up exercise after exercise. Then, she reveals the full breadth of what she has in store for him. It's going to be hell.

The Colosseum

It's a somewhat chilly day. Snow packs into the sides of walls in the Colosseum as the training grounds have been cleared out for more equal footing on the packed sand. Not many are out training today, as the cold and wet air ruins mundane equipment, and being freezing isn't the greatest for spectators.

But it was a boon to cool off from working out.

Going over a routine for such an exertion of physical training was that of a scarred mul'neissa woman. She's without her green jacket, it instead tied around her waist as she flips through her journal. Leaning against the wall with a foot propped up against it. Waiting expectantly for someone.

Cesran is freezing as he is dressed in the simple gear of a Navos initiate monk. He has asked Aryia to be able to train with her for a week, no spells, no magical equipment he has to live under her tutelage for a week. It's part of him making an atonement to the universe for destroying a demon's soul. He went to the clergy of Navos to seek balance and this was the answer that was given to him. Normally one to pursue only cerebral pursuits for a week Cesran must give up all that and work on his much neglected physical form. He hustles out to Aryia and gives her a bow. "Good morning Master Aryia." He says politely as his gi is still freshly laundered.

Aryia looks up from her book and-

Blink blink.

Shifting on her feet, she frowns a bit, glancing aside. "Morning. Uh, please don't call me that," the ex-slave insists with a free hand. "Anything else but that."

She looks him over, the elf rubbing at her face. Herself looking more like a backstreet brawler with her tank top and hands wrapped in cloth tape as opposed to anything proper like Cesran was wearing. She steps forward and holds her journal out for him to look at.

On it was a list of exercises.

-Assessment spar.

-Body workout. Jogging, pushups, pullups, situps, squats. Sets and reps TBD.

-Break

-Weight lifting.

There's more, but it's mostly speculative on what to do, as a baseline has to be established first.

Once he gives it a look over, the mute unceremoniously throws the journal over her shoulder. "Hit me," she signs, dead pan. Standing still. <Handspeech>

GAME: Cesran rolls 1d20+9: (19)+9: 28
GAME: Cesran rolls 1d3-1: (2)+-1: 1

Cesran thankfully knows handspeech with the aid of any of his magical items replies, "As you wish Aryia." He looks down at the journal and he nods, "Understood."

"What?" Cesran asks in disbelief, but quickly recovers, "All right. I can do that." He rubs his hands together and makes a fist with his right hand. He's seen others do that and it's not too hard. He gives a straight jab right to Aryia's face. He's expected her to block it or some other cool monk style that will have him on his back. He's a bit taken back when he connects and he drops his hand immediately, "Are you okay?"

GAME: Aryia rolls punch: aliased to weapon0+2: (12)+18+2: 32

Aryia did ask for him to hit her. She was expecting the magi to do some sort of large wind up, or a big tell. But apparently him seeing others fight with their fists made him take some pointers. And his knuckles crash right into her jaw.

The mute's head whips back, and she takes a half step back to keep her balance.

She cracks her neck, then resets herself. "That was good," she signs smoothly before there's a flash of movement, and a hand halts just before his nose, the fingers glowing a moonlit hue. A finger pokes his nose, and there's a tiny sparkle of light.

"You got the right idea but keep your hands up for fuck's sake..." she gestures before walking around him. She nudges his feet and knees, getting him into a proper stance to keep his balance. A hand reaches up to tuck his chin in, and she moves his arms to keep his sides covered by the elbows, forearms protecting the chest, fists blocking his jaw.

It's a solid stance.

... but by the gods, is it tiring to hold. <Handspeech>

Cesran gives a smile, "Thanks." He doesn't even have time to wince as he sees the hand stop just in front of his nose and then his nose get poked. "Right." He brings his hands back up and lets Aryia move his limbs. He does his best to hold exactly as she told him. It's hard to keep an unfamiliar stance as his muscles aren't used to to this much work in just holding himself up right. It doesn't take too long before his arms and legs are starting just to ache a little bit from standing. Sweat is all ready starting to form on his brow.

Aryia explains what she's doing once the sweat starts to kick in. "This is the basic fighting stance. Protects your vital areas, keeps you solid on your feet if you get hit. And your fists are right there and ready to hit something if need be," she signs before mirroring his stance at the drop of a hat and jabbing at the air twice quickly in demonstrations. Moonlight flicks off at the apex of each little whiff.

She stops in front of the magi, somehow looking /down/ at him despite the height difference. "The mind is part of the body. Neglecting one is going to hurt the other. Your magic doesn't mean shit if your heart gives out from having to push yourself a little bit more later in life."

"Hold that stance for as long as you can," she finishes, crossing her arms and watching him.

Endurance test. <Handspeech>

GAME: Cesran rolls constitution: (18)+1: 19

Cesran continues to hold the stance as the ache settles into his limbs as he listens to Aryia's explanation of the stance she put him in. He gives a slight nod, "I understand." He says as he's finding it a bit easier to hold the stance now that he's actually in it. He starts to make a check list in his head to keep limbs where they should be. He makes sure his chin is tucked in and his hands are up to protect it. He keeps his elbows in and his forearms protecting his chest. His legs are aching a little more from not moving, but so far it's nothing he can't handle.

GAME: Aryia rolls trip: aliased to : (18)+18+2: 38

Aryia watches. And slowly she walks around him. Seeing what trembles. What might give way. So far, there's an impressed look on her face.

But, that's not why they're here. They're here for repenting. And the pugilist was going to have to help him through that.

It starts small. Looking like little adjustments to his stance. A nudge here. A tug there.

Then it becomes more apparent. She puts a hand on an arm, or his back, and gives a heavy shove. "Stay in the stance," she mentions after each one. So not only is it an endurance test, its a resilience one. And it's certainly a force multiplier for the stress of just keeping hold of that footwork.

A hand grabs the front of his gi, gives it a tug and a twist, then topples him to the ground. "Stay in stance." The signs are practically droning. <Handspeech>

Cesran is easily shoved as he has to take a couple of steps to not fall back on his butt and he tries to get back into the stance. He starts to go through the checklist, chin down, fists up. He's grabbed by the gi and suddenly there is sky. He yelps as a sharp pain shoots up his back as he's tossed onto his butt on the ground. Cesran winces as he starts to get back up slowly onto his feet so he can try to get back into the stance. He starts the check list again: feet spaced shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, chin down, fists up, elbows tucked in.

Just as he gets back up, the instructor grabs his gi once more and starts pull down. Amplifying the strain on the wizard's muscles in trying to keep that same stance. Like he was weighing more and more, gravity growing. Wanting him to buckle and strain.

She has an.. odd expression on her face. She's not /bored/ per se, but calm. Eyes closed, focusing on the feeling. It's hard to tell if she's enjoying this or not, but it's clear that her endurance far outpaces the indoor book worm.

GAME: Cesran rolls strength: (11)+-1: 10

Cesran struggles to try to keep the stand as he's getting pulled down and and his muscles are now burning. He manages to keep the stance up for half a second before he's easily pulled down out of the stance. He struggles to try to get back into it, but can't fight against the pull as he tries to at least keep his fists up to protect his face as he's bends down in the direction of the pulling.

The pulling continues. Straining. Trying to get him to lock up and crumble. Though, through the burning muscles and struggling, the shadow elf leans in as he's brought closer to her level.

There's a whisper. No, a subwhisper. Nary there, with no timbre or vibrato. Just the sound of wind, and hissing.

"Remember to breathe."

Just as it's about to be another yank to the ground, the grip is released like a tightened rubber band. She dusts her hands off. "Pushups. Now," she instructs. Then keeps saying more with her hands, "You push yourself with your magic, reaching new heights that can't be attainable without it. Consider the body similarly." <Handspeech>

GAME: Cesran rolls strength: (10)+-1: 9

Cesran in trying to resist the pulling Cesran has indeed forgotten to breath. He inhales sharply at Aryia's subwhisper and is is bracing for another yank to the ground, his legs trembling as he's sure this next one will do him in. He's let go and has to take a step back to keep from falling over. He winces and starts to rub his back a bit. He gives a nod as he doesn't argue with her, he's not here to debate he's hear to follow instructions. He gets down on the ground trying to ignore the cold wet ground as he has to think for a moment to get into what he thinks is a good pushup form. Back straight on his toes, arms out at a 90 degree angle. He takes a deep breath as he starts to push himself up off the ground and the first one is pretty easy getting up, the he has to go down and hold himself not letting his chest touch the ground. The second one is harder as he pushes himself slowly back up and then tries not to just drop himself onto the ground. His arms are shaking as he lowers himself back down and starts to slowly push up for a third one.

Aryia gets on her haunches right beside the wizard, watching him struggle. More whispers as she's next to his head. "And yet, there is no magic without the body," she whisper hisses as he trembles up on his third, trying attempting. "If the body is nothing, then there is no fancy magic mansions. No blocking scrying. No fireballs and lightning bolts. Nothing. If the one moment you have to rely on a tool you have fails you, then you've failed yourself."

She puts a hand on his back, and ever so lightly pushes. "Come on."

GAME: Cesran rolls strength: (1)+-1: 0 (EPIC FAIL)

Cesran is about half way up for his third pushup as his arms are on fire and he can feel pain in his elbows and shoulders. He hears her whispers as they cut through the struggle and he feels the hand on his back as he struggles to push against her hand. He just can't make his arms go push any harder as his whole body is shaking from the effort that is ultimately futile. His muscles give out as he face plants into the cold wet ground. He's breathing harshly as his arms are sore from the effort. He manages to get out, "Give me a moment and I'll try again." His breath is ragged all ready.

Aryia doesn't seem disappointed, rather, she gives a light smile before grabbing him and pulling him up to a sitting position. "You're doing good. Found your limit."

Then she grins. "Expect to feel exactly like this for the next week, friend." Her eyes sparkle with excitement.<Handspeech>

Cesran grunts at the effort as he helps to get himself into a sitting position. "Thank you. I'm as mentally prepared for it as I can be." He says as he starts to rub his sore arms and he sighs as he didn't wipe off his hands before getting the gi dirty, or more dirty then it all ready was.

Aryia herself was already dirty and sandy from training earlier. And that only makes her grin even wider. "The first day is always the easiest," she snickers behind one hand while the other one gestures. "It's the /second/ day that's always the ass kicker. I'm going to send you back to the temples by the end of the week with every muscle in your body feeling like burnt jello."

Oh no. She's totally enjoying this.<Handspeech>

Cesran nods his head as he resigns himself to his fate. "All right what's next?" He asks as he's determined in his course to set things right with the universe even if it breaks his body to do so, "I didn't know you could burn jello." He says with a bit of a snicker.

"Then you haven't seen me cook," Aryia snerks, picking up the mage by the back of the gi and sets him on his feet. "Now that we got most of your muscles tired, now it's time to jog until you drop. Then it'll be break time."

She claps her hands at him twice, two tiny bursts of moonlight coming from her hands. "Chop chop! Two laps around the arena! Move it finger waggler!" <Handspeech>

GAME: Cesran rolls constitution: (7)+1: 8

Cesran is all stiff and sort and he nods, "Got it two laps." He looks around the arena. It shouldn't be that hard. He starts out at a brisk jog, nothing too fast as he's not trying to sprint. He gets about a half a lap in before he starts to flag. The years of teleporting and riding around on his carpet of flying have taken their toll. He's really missing his carpet of flying at he finishes the first lap and winces as he's getting a stitch in his side. He slows down to a walk as he rubs his side hoping that it will go away so he can pick up the pace again.

The mage jogs.

The pugilist walks backwards, keeping up with him easily and watching. All that teleporting and riding around, sitting and using magic to get things rather than doing it oneself really shows, and the mute can see it.

"In the nose, out the mouth!" she motions at him as the pace slows a hair. "Keep your breath steady and don't waste energy bouncing your step!" she coaches. "It's just two fucking laps, I've seen wizard towers with more steps than that! Let's goooooooooooooooo!" she signs animatedly, dragging the 'o' across the air. <Handspeech>

Cesran starts to pick up the pace again as he tries to ignore the pain in his side. It takes him a bit, but eventually he get the whole breathing thing down. He manages to keep up a good jogging pace as he makes his way around the arena one more time. He slows down to a walk after he crosses the imaginary finish line and he lifts his arms above his head as he continues forward as he did read that doing this helps after running or jogging.

Aryia on his case the entire time through the lap, gesturing widely and loudly. Pushing him as much as she can, but letting off when space is needed. She nods approvingly as he keeps going afterwards. "Cool down lap, yes. Walk it off. Keep your arms up there, but don't breathe any faster or slower."

Her smile grows to a broad grin. "And then we'll do situps. Then more stance holding. Then another run. Then some squats. Then some more stances. Then /one more/ run, then we can break for lunch! Then we'll do it /all/ over again!"

This is hell. <Handspeech>

Cesran hears sit ups as he walks around the arena once more with his arms up in the air. He groans a bit as maybe he shouldn't have had one last breakfast in his mansion before coming here. He nods a little bit as she tells him the agenda and he tries to give a smile, "Sounds fun." He says as he's starting to get his breath back as he completes the cool down lap around the arena.

Aryia's grin turns slightly impish as they come to a stop. "Oh, don't lie to me, this is going to fucking suck, buddy,"

She slaps a waterskin into his hands. "Hydrate, take a minute, then it's sit-up time."

She rolls her shoulders. "We're just getting started." <Handspeech>

Cesran nods, "Oh yah it's gonna suck big time." He takes a small amount of water as he is all ready afraid he's gonna throw up from the sit up. Just enjoy to swish around in his mouth and swallow to get get the dryness out of his mouth. He gives the waterskin back and he nods, "Let's get started then." He says as he knew giving himself over to Aryia was not going to be easy.

Aryia cracks her knuckles, grinning from ear to ear. "And then tomorrow we can do pullups. And I can educate you about the wonderful world of this thing called B-U-R-P-E-E-S." <Handspeech>

Oh no.

Not the burpees.

GAME: Cesran rolls intelligence: (17)+10: 27 (He knows what the are. Unfortunately.)

-End Scene-