Post by Viktara on Jul 5, 2016 23:47:48 GMT
It was late. The Jailbird was uncharacteristically packed with patrons, as the locals of Raiti Zacro eagerly took part in the general forms of debauchery you’d expect to find in a seedy back-alley pub. Tonight, Viktara refrained from the festivities. She elected instead to enjoy her solitude in a small booth far away from the noisy clientele, huddling next to a bottle of her favorite brand of whisky as she reminisced about the past.
Another sip, and her mind began to drift back to her younger days in prison. Before she packed on all the extra bulk. Before she learned how to fight, or control her ki. Before she learned how to survive.
A much younger Viktara wearily stirred up from her cot as her eyes were assaulted by the visage of her stark white cell. She sighed inwardly as she tightly shut her eyes again, sending up silent prayers that this horrible institution would magically cease existing as soon as she opened them again.
“...Darn it.”
Her bare feet touched down on the chilled floor as she swiveled her body out of bed. Everything was so cold, and sterile. Just as the Arcosians liked it. She stared at the reflection rippling in her sink’s pooling water. Greeting her was the image of a scrawny farm girl. Tall and skinny, with messy hair and knobby knees. She was well equipped for handling household chores and tending to crops no doubt, but was this innocent face really destined to become a feared fighter?
She closed her eyes as she took another breath. Today was the day she would find out.
Exiting her cell, the woman traveled through the brightly lit halls of white and grey before finally arriving at the prison’s courtyard. It was a small enclosed metal stadium, filled with training weights, exercise machines, and sports gear to keep the prisoners preoccupied while they rot out their sentences. Few windows were provided here, as there was nothing outside but the cold depths of space. Most inmates preferred it that way, as the concept of time seems to drain away when staring in the face of an endless void.
The Heran female warily traveled passed the various gangs of inmates to reach her destination. Her blue skin and bright orange hair only served to paint her as a colorful target, as Herans had a notoriety of being ruthless killers thanks to a certain individual. She felt all their groping eyes on her. Sizing her up. Studying her weaknesses. It was only a matter of time before they pounced, and she had to be ready.
“‘Bout time you showed up, lass.” a gruff voice stood to greet her. The man was known as Zetsubo, the Heran Pirate. To most, he was a truly threatening sight to behold. He was an absolute monster. Seven feet of meat and muscle, with a scarlet red beard that stretched down his chest. He had a reputation for being a merciless fighter. Those who had the audacity to challenge him were often carted away with broken bones and torn ligaments. His style of fighting was savage and dirty, yet there was an almost surgical precision to every strike he threw. His blows never seemed to strictly be aimed at incapacitating his enemy. rather, they were thrown at crucial points in the body in order to deliver the most pain possible.
“Ready fer yer trainin’, then?” he asked as he cracked his neck in anticipation.
"W-well sir, i-it’s not like I have much of a choice..." she stammered out under her breath. “SPEAK TO ME LIKE A MAN, YA BLOODY FAIRY. CHIN UP, CHEST OUT.” He ordered, eliciting shocked yelp from the smaller girl as she instinctively stood at attention. “Now, C’MON. You’ll want some privacy. These lot are like sharks, and you don’t wan’em ta smell ya blood.” he growled as he turned to leave the courtyard. A knot began to swell in the girl’s throat as she followed close behind him. ...Am I really going to bleed?
Soon, they arrived in the male showers. A throaty growl and a few well placed glares were enough to scatter the few men still lingering inside. “Aaaallright. Got the place t’ ourselves. Now then.” he cracked his knuckles before lowering his body into a boxing stance. “Hit me as hard as you can.”
The girl blinked. “A-are you sure? I-I mean, my pa always told me to hold back, ‘cause I was so much bigger tha-” “BLOODY HELL, WOMAN! SHUT YER GAB AND PUNCH ME IN THE DAMNED FACE!” he shouted, his barking voice echoing off the porcelain walls. Sighing again, the slender girl took a deep breath as she balled her right hand into a small fist. She took her first step forward, before finally charging ahead and shutting her eyes while throwing all her strength into a forward hook!
“EYES OPEN, SCRAG!” He roared as he suddenly slammed the back of his fist squarely into the girl’s gut.
Her eyes shot open wide to visions of stars as all the air was suddenly expunged from her lungs. Her arms clutched around her stomach as her legs fruitlessly struggled to hold up her own weight. Finally buckling under the pain, she collapsed onto her knees before falling down again to her side. She didn’t cry. She couldn’t scream. It was all she could manage to curl into a fetal position, and silently choke on her own stomach bile.
The Heran warrior gazed down at the young girl with folded arms and a disgusted sneer. Sympathy wasn’t even an afterthought in his mind. “Stand up and quit’cher blubberin’, I didn’t hit’cha THAT hard... ‘Sides, if you were WATCHIN’ me insteada keepin’ yer damned EYES SHUT, then you woulda seen me MOVE!” He chided as the girl continued to writhe on the ground in agony. “Now STAND UP Scrag, I won’t tell you again!”
The girl groaned into the damp grey tiles as she strained to push her body off the ground. The cramping pains of her stomach only seemed to intensify as she stood straight up on wobbling legs. Her gaze then fell on her grinning teacher. Cocky, and proud. Her eyes narrowed on his boorish words as he continued to chide the younger Heran.
“Oooooh, that evil LOOK in your eye! I’m seein’ the HERAN in you now, girl!” His smug grin grew even wider as he spoke. “Now, hit me.”
The young fighter suddenly belted out a shrill scream as she charged into the larger man! Swinging wildly, she threw hook after hook at the Heran pirate, desperately hoping for at least one of her blows to land! “Y’see? Pain is a great motivator!” The experienced warrior laughed as he easily sidestepped Viktara’s attacks. “It keeps ya focused!” He cocked his head to the side, dodging another straight punch. “MOTIVATED!” He then swatted away another right hook with complete ease, never taking his eyes off the girl.
Viktara paused for a moment as her eyes flicked down to her fist. It was bruised from a simple tap. Her eyes widened once more as she began to realize the difference in their power. She was like a fly, challenging a lion. What made things even more terrifying, was that she knew his powers were being suppressed by the prison’s shock collars.
“It REMINDS you of what it feels like t’ be WEAK, and that weakness makes you ANGRY!” He continued as his stance lowered into a boxer’s crouch. “Then you turn that ANGER-” Lunging forward, Zetsubo completely vanished from sight! “-INTO STRENGTH!” Reappearing at her side, the Heran warrior delivered several striking jabs to her liver, stomach, and ribs.
Severe pain immediately rippled through Viktara’s every nerve, as her body’s weak points were struck with unforgiving ferocity. “This is how the HERANS fight!” He spoke through her screams as she collapsed on the ground once more, writhing in more pain than she’d ever experienced in her short life. “THIS is what makes us the most FEARED race in the galaxy!”
As he stared down at the Heran girl, still twitching on the ground between her sharp breaths, the man began to laugh. Hard. Loud, boisterous, belly-driven laughter that would be better found in a pub than a prison. Crouching down into a squat, he grabbed the Heran by the hair and forced her tear soaked eyes to gaze into his.
“Now. Stand up.”
Another sip, and her mind began to drift back to her younger days in prison. Before she packed on all the extra bulk. Before she learned how to fight, or control her ki. Before she learned how to survive.
A much younger Viktara wearily stirred up from her cot as her eyes were assaulted by the visage of her stark white cell. She sighed inwardly as she tightly shut her eyes again, sending up silent prayers that this horrible institution would magically cease existing as soon as she opened them again.
“...Darn it.”
Her bare feet touched down on the chilled floor as she swiveled her body out of bed. Everything was so cold, and sterile. Just as the Arcosians liked it. She stared at the reflection rippling in her sink’s pooling water. Greeting her was the image of a scrawny farm girl. Tall and skinny, with messy hair and knobby knees. She was well equipped for handling household chores and tending to crops no doubt, but was this innocent face really destined to become a feared fighter?
She closed her eyes as she took another breath. Today was the day she would find out.
Exiting her cell, the woman traveled through the brightly lit halls of white and grey before finally arriving at the prison’s courtyard. It was a small enclosed metal stadium, filled with training weights, exercise machines, and sports gear to keep the prisoners preoccupied while they rot out their sentences. Few windows were provided here, as there was nothing outside but the cold depths of space. Most inmates preferred it that way, as the concept of time seems to drain away when staring in the face of an endless void.
The Heran female warily traveled passed the various gangs of inmates to reach her destination. Her blue skin and bright orange hair only served to paint her as a colorful target, as Herans had a notoriety of being ruthless killers thanks to a certain individual. She felt all their groping eyes on her. Sizing her up. Studying her weaknesses. It was only a matter of time before they pounced, and she had to be ready.
“‘Bout time you showed up, lass.” a gruff voice stood to greet her. The man was known as Zetsubo, the Heran Pirate. To most, he was a truly threatening sight to behold. He was an absolute monster. Seven feet of meat and muscle, with a scarlet red beard that stretched down his chest. He had a reputation for being a merciless fighter. Those who had the audacity to challenge him were often carted away with broken bones and torn ligaments. His style of fighting was savage and dirty, yet there was an almost surgical precision to every strike he threw. His blows never seemed to strictly be aimed at incapacitating his enemy. rather, they were thrown at crucial points in the body in order to deliver the most pain possible.
“Ready fer yer trainin’, then?” he asked as he cracked his neck in anticipation.
"W-well sir, i-it’s not like I have much of a choice..." she stammered out under her breath. “SPEAK TO ME LIKE A MAN, YA BLOODY FAIRY. CHIN UP, CHEST OUT.” He ordered, eliciting shocked yelp from the smaller girl as she instinctively stood at attention. “Now, C’MON. You’ll want some privacy. These lot are like sharks, and you don’t wan’em ta smell ya blood.” he growled as he turned to leave the courtyard. A knot began to swell in the girl’s throat as she followed close behind him. ...Am I really going to bleed?
Soon, they arrived in the male showers. A throaty growl and a few well placed glares were enough to scatter the few men still lingering inside. “Aaaallright. Got the place t’ ourselves. Now then.” he cracked his knuckles before lowering his body into a boxing stance. “Hit me as hard as you can.”
The girl blinked. “A-are you sure? I-I mean, my pa always told me to hold back, ‘cause I was so much bigger tha-” “BLOODY HELL, WOMAN! SHUT YER GAB AND PUNCH ME IN THE DAMNED FACE!” he shouted, his barking voice echoing off the porcelain walls. Sighing again, the slender girl took a deep breath as she balled her right hand into a small fist. She took her first step forward, before finally charging ahead and shutting her eyes while throwing all her strength into a forward hook!
“EYES OPEN, SCRAG!” He roared as he suddenly slammed the back of his fist squarely into the girl’s gut.
Her eyes shot open wide to visions of stars as all the air was suddenly expunged from her lungs. Her arms clutched around her stomach as her legs fruitlessly struggled to hold up her own weight. Finally buckling under the pain, she collapsed onto her knees before falling down again to her side. She didn’t cry. She couldn’t scream. It was all she could manage to curl into a fetal position, and silently choke on her own stomach bile.
The Heran warrior gazed down at the young girl with folded arms and a disgusted sneer. Sympathy wasn’t even an afterthought in his mind. “Stand up and quit’cher blubberin’, I didn’t hit’cha THAT hard... ‘Sides, if you were WATCHIN’ me insteada keepin’ yer damned EYES SHUT, then you woulda seen me MOVE!” He chided as the girl continued to writhe on the ground in agony. “Now STAND UP Scrag, I won’t tell you again!”
The girl groaned into the damp grey tiles as she strained to push her body off the ground. The cramping pains of her stomach only seemed to intensify as she stood straight up on wobbling legs. Her gaze then fell on her grinning teacher. Cocky, and proud. Her eyes narrowed on his boorish words as he continued to chide the younger Heran.
“Oooooh, that evil LOOK in your eye! I’m seein’ the HERAN in you now, girl!” His smug grin grew even wider as he spoke. “Now, hit me.”
The young fighter suddenly belted out a shrill scream as she charged into the larger man! Swinging wildly, she threw hook after hook at the Heran pirate, desperately hoping for at least one of her blows to land! “Y’see? Pain is a great motivator!” The experienced warrior laughed as he easily sidestepped Viktara’s attacks. “It keeps ya focused!” He cocked his head to the side, dodging another straight punch. “MOTIVATED!” He then swatted away another right hook with complete ease, never taking his eyes off the girl.
Viktara paused for a moment as her eyes flicked down to her fist. It was bruised from a simple tap. Her eyes widened once more as she began to realize the difference in their power. She was like a fly, challenging a lion. What made things even more terrifying, was that she knew his powers were being suppressed by the prison’s shock collars.
“It REMINDS you of what it feels like t’ be WEAK, and that weakness makes you ANGRY!” He continued as his stance lowered into a boxer’s crouch. “Then you turn that ANGER-” Lunging forward, Zetsubo completely vanished from sight! “-INTO STRENGTH!” Reappearing at her side, the Heran warrior delivered several striking jabs to her liver, stomach, and ribs.
Severe pain immediately rippled through Viktara’s every nerve, as her body’s weak points were struck with unforgiving ferocity. “This is how the HERANS fight!” He spoke through her screams as she collapsed on the ground once more, writhing in more pain than she’d ever experienced in her short life. “THIS is what makes us the most FEARED race in the galaxy!”
As he stared down at the Heran girl, still twitching on the ground between her sharp breaths, the man began to laugh. Hard. Loud, boisterous, belly-driven laughter that would be better found in a pub than a prison. Crouching down into a squat, he grabbed the Heran by the hair and forced her tear soaked eyes to gaze into his.
“Now. Stand up.”