Post by Deleted on Mar 19, 2015 3:23:17 GMT -8
The sun was still below the horizon as the purple shirted woman stalked out of her barracks, not even a glance given to her 'cohort' mates still done up in their beds. Clearly if she was going to have to compensate for them, she'd need to get to work even earlier than most, and get to her training. She did not even bother to fetch food or do any grooming before leaving - her hair a mess (or as much of one as it could be, with how short it was), her teeth unbrushed, her face unwashed, the only sign of preperation the pair of bottles on her hips, stuck into belt loops. Once she was out of the immediate area of the barrack's and their sleeping demigods and goddesses, she stopped being so slow about it - crouching down for a moment before taking off in a sprint. Soon the ground was a hundred or more feet below her, as she vaulted over the baths, her hands touching the roof of the building as she landed on the edge, dropping into a roll that quickly became another sprint, and then another jump as she hit the edge of the baths.
She flew through the air, hundreds of feet above the ground, and for a long moment in the darkness it was as if she was flying. Of course, she was not, and as she hit the ground - quickly into another roll to prevent any damage - she'd already almost hit her target, at the edge of the Field of Mars, near the mountains and hills - an assortment of various rocks, surrounding a few... lessened hills. She'd been at the camp for a few days now, and she quickly learned they didn't have the proper tools for her to truly exercise with, and so she'd created her own. She grabbed two of the smaller rocks, each about half of her height in size, by already carved (or rather, broken in) finger holes, and began lifting them from their place on the ground one handily, in an opposing rhythm, easily hefting the heavy stone over her shoulders continually. The repetitions were done with a silence that fit the night, the only noise the woosh of air as she lifted and lowered the large stone 'dumbells'.
Nothing ever happens if someone is not pushed, that was the first lesson that her father had taught her, when she was let out to survive on her own at six years old. If someone only ever did the 'average' then they could never be 'heroic' - if what the camp offered all its members was to be considered what was average for heroes, then she would need to go above and beyond that to be a hero that would impress even them. If no one was going to provide the push she needed, then she'd just need to push herself. That was why she made this training area, it was why she woke up so much earlier than everyone else, it was why she snuck out of the camp proper daily. She needed to excel even more, to keep the goatboy and little mouthy girl from dragging her down - that was why she doubled the amount of time she spent there. She needed to excel and outshine the people who were so flashy with their parent's gifts - that was why she worked twice as fast in every movement.
Ninety seven... ninety eight... ninety nine... three hundred Astrid's mind echoed at every set of lifts, counting only when her right arm (and stone) went up. Three hundred each, she dropped the stones onto the ground, the sweat on her brow clear already. She grunted as she pulled one of her bottles loose, taking a drink of it and shaking her head as she swallowed it down, setting the bottle onto the ground. Her muscles already ached from the day before, though she refused to admit it, it was clear by how her body was reacting that she was pushing herself too much - or would be, to anyone besides herself. To her it was a sign that she was too weak, that she needed to push harder, and that she was clearly not living up to what she needed to be.
She looked at the rest of her rocks, sighing as she moved herself towards one of the largest ones - easily around four feet tall, wide, and deep - set up atop two flattened rocks, only a foot and a half off the ground. She dropped to the ground unceremoniously, crawling backwards to position herself under the boulder, hands moving to meet the stone, bent arms slowly extended. For a moment it was almost too much for even her strength as she pushed herself. For a moment the boulder refused to move. And then the tons of weight began to lift, and she moved it down off the 'rack' rocks she had created. After the first movement was easier, as she 'benched' the heavy boulder over her head.
This was dangerous and she knew it - it was larger than she should have been doing, she was without (and likely could never find) a spotter, and if she slipped and dropped it, even her invulnerability would likely not let her get through unscathed. But she was not afraid - the idea of being afraid of her own failure had never occurred to her, and so she couldn't possibly be afraid. Her grip was stable into the rock, as she repeated the movements, the cold stone nearly touching her as it came down, and then lifting what seemed to be far above her. She had only been in the camp for such a short time, but she was already frustrated with it - she had assumed that the chance for battle training with proper weapons would be useful for her. Unfortunately, the first time she attempted instruction on how to wield one of the golden blades, she crushed the grip within her hand. The second time she avoided that, but nearly ended up breaking her sparring partner's wrist by clashing blades - partner too stubborn to let it go as the clash happened. This unfortunately caused both blades to suffer heavy damage.
Spears were even worse, as she had learned in snapping multiple of them completely in half after only an hour or two of practice. Even the magical bows were no more useful than the real ones, losing form and becoming unfirable within a dozen shots. Not only that, but for some reason the so called 'leaders' (her uncles) frowned on her breaking and throwing large rocks at people during training, especially when the rocks happened to be buildings before she got her hands on them. One hundred. She set the large boulder back on its rack, sliding herself down and out from under it. As she stretched, her arms practically felt as if they would fly off her body with the new found lightness. She raised them up behind her back, stretching them out fully before sighing, leaning down to grab her bottle of water, downing most of it in a single gulp. The sweat on her body was now extremely obvious, as it ran down her face, her arms, her exposed legs, and dampened the neck of her shirt visibly under the now rising sun.
Still, she was not done yet, as she looked back at the piles of rocks. She had at least half an hour before the camp would truly be in motion and she'd need to be back, and that was easily enough time for another few sets.
Notes: Just a quick post to show what kind of shit Astrid does outside of camp required training
Words: 1265
She flew through the air, hundreds of feet above the ground, and for a long moment in the darkness it was as if she was flying. Of course, she was not, and as she hit the ground - quickly into another roll to prevent any damage - she'd already almost hit her target, at the edge of the Field of Mars, near the mountains and hills - an assortment of various rocks, surrounding a few... lessened hills. She'd been at the camp for a few days now, and she quickly learned they didn't have the proper tools for her to truly exercise with, and so she'd created her own. She grabbed two of the smaller rocks, each about half of her height in size, by already carved (or rather, broken in) finger holes, and began lifting them from their place on the ground one handily, in an opposing rhythm, easily hefting the heavy stone over her shoulders continually. The repetitions were done with a silence that fit the night, the only noise the woosh of air as she lifted and lowered the large stone 'dumbells'.
Nothing ever happens if someone is not pushed, that was the first lesson that her father had taught her, when she was let out to survive on her own at six years old. If someone only ever did the 'average' then they could never be 'heroic' - if what the camp offered all its members was to be considered what was average for heroes, then she would need to go above and beyond that to be a hero that would impress even them. If no one was going to provide the push she needed, then she'd just need to push herself. That was why she made this training area, it was why she woke up so much earlier than everyone else, it was why she snuck out of the camp proper daily. She needed to excel even more, to keep the goatboy and little mouthy girl from dragging her down - that was why she doubled the amount of time she spent there. She needed to excel and outshine the people who were so flashy with their parent's gifts - that was why she worked twice as fast in every movement.
Ninety seven... ninety eight... ninety nine... three hundred Astrid's mind echoed at every set of lifts, counting only when her right arm (and stone) went up. Three hundred each, she dropped the stones onto the ground, the sweat on her brow clear already. She grunted as she pulled one of her bottles loose, taking a drink of it and shaking her head as she swallowed it down, setting the bottle onto the ground. Her muscles already ached from the day before, though she refused to admit it, it was clear by how her body was reacting that she was pushing herself too much - or would be, to anyone besides herself. To her it was a sign that she was too weak, that she needed to push harder, and that she was clearly not living up to what she needed to be.
She looked at the rest of her rocks, sighing as she moved herself towards one of the largest ones - easily around four feet tall, wide, and deep - set up atop two flattened rocks, only a foot and a half off the ground. She dropped to the ground unceremoniously, crawling backwards to position herself under the boulder, hands moving to meet the stone, bent arms slowly extended. For a moment it was almost too much for even her strength as she pushed herself. For a moment the boulder refused to move. And then the tons of weight began to lift, and she moved it down off the 'rack' rocks she had created. After the first movement was easier, as she 'benched' the heavy boulder over her head.
This was dangerous and she knew it - it was larger than she should have been doing, she was without (and likely could never find) a spotter, and if she slipped and dropped it, even her invulnerability would likely not let her get through unscathed. But she was not afraid - the idea of being afraid of her own failure had never occurred to her, and so she couldn't possibly be afraid. Her grip was stable into the rock, as she repeated the movements, the cold stone nearly touching her as it came down, and then lifting what seemed to be far above her. She had only been in the camp for such a short time, but she was already frustrated with it - she had assumed that the chance for battle training with proper weapons would be useful for her. Unfortunately, the first time she attempted instruction on how to wield one of the golden blades, she crushed the grip within her hand. The second time she avoided that, but nearly ended up breaking her sparring partner's wrist by clashing blades - partner too stubborn to let it go as the clash happened. This unfortunately caused both blades to suffer heavy damage.
Spears were even worse, as she had learned in snapping multiple of them completely in half after only an hour or two of practice. Even the magical bows were no more useful than the real ones, losing form and becoming unfirable within a dozen shots. Not only that, but for some reason the so called 'leaders' (her uncles) frowned on her breaking and throwing large rocks at people during training, especially when the rocks happened to be buildings before she got her hands on them. One hundred. She set the large boulder back on its rack, sliding herself down and out from under it. As she stretched, her arms practically felt as if they would fly off her body with the new found lightness. She raised them up behind her back, stretching them out fully before sighing, leaning down to grab her bottle of water, downing most of it in a single gulp. The sweat on her body was now extremely obvious, as it ran down her face, her arms, her exposed legs, and dampened the neck of her shirt visibly under the now rising sun.
Still, she was not done yet, as she looked back at the piles of rocks. She had at least half an hour before the camp would truly be in motion and she'd need to be back, and that was easily enough time for another few sets.
Notes: Just a quick post to show what kind of shit Astrid does outside of camp required training
Words: 1265