Post by Pluto on Feb 2, 2019 17:13:22 GMT
2100 PL/Medium Training Weights
1050 PL With Weights on
Pluto sat upon an old splintery wooden bench; the bench was located on the outskirts of South City near where urban started turning rural once more. There was no one around for some distance, across the way a bit were some fields that someone likely owned, but that was it. Pluto slumped over himself, he sat wide-legged with his arms resting on his knees; he held a mostly empty bottle of brandy in his right hand. The bottle was bagged, as it should have been it public, but drinking in public is illegal anyway so that fact didn’t really matter.
Pluto wore his red coat today, the collar high enough to cover the sides of his face, his blue beanie was down far on his head, and all in all he looked like a vagrant in very expensive clothing. No one would be able to tell that the man was a Saiyan, well half-Saiyan; the only sign was his tail which was tucked under his coat and around his waist. He honestly smelled of sour booze and it seemed like he hadn’t bathed for a while, he had patchy stubble growing in as well.
Pluto lifted the bottle to his lips and took a great swing from it; it was sickeningly sweet but had a pretty good kick to it. He grimaced slightly and clicked his tongue, the bottle had been open a while now and with the slight heat and the fact that he hadn’t eaten all day it wasn’t tasting any better. “Haven’t trained in months… Keep getting into fights. Always drunk,” Pluto began mumbling to himself as he softly swayed on the bench. He felt pathetic honestly, the only time he ever felt good anymore was when he was fighting, and lately he had been going overboard. It hadn’t even been him starting the fights lately, it was like everyone had suddenly become assholes; even more than he was.
The Half-Saiyan sighed to himself once more, the wind felt nice on his face today and he was beginning to calm down a bit. The bottle was almost gone so once he drank it all he could think of his next move, he’d probably go get some breakfast (even though it was lunch time) and find some motel to crash at. He’d been up since the night before, probably going on thirty hours now, and he could feel his body shutting down from all the alcohol and sleep-depravation.
1050 PL With Weights on
Pluto sat upon an old splintery wooden bench; the bench was located on the outskirts of South City near where urban started turning rural once more. There was no one around for some distance, across the way a bit were some fields that someone likely owned, but that was it. Pluto slumped over himself, he sat wide-legged with his arms resting on his knees; he held a mostly empty bottle of brandy in his right hand. The bottle was bagged, as it should have been it public, but drinking in public is illegal anyway so that fact didn’t really matter.
Pluto wore his red coat today, the collar high enough to cover the sides of his face, his blue beanie was down far on his head, and all in all he looked like a vagrant in very expensive clothing. No one would be able to tell that the man was a Saiyan, well half-Saiyan; the only sign was his tail which was tucked under his coat and around his waist. He honestly smelled of sour booze and it seemed like he hadn’t bathed for a while, he had patchy stubble growing in as well.
Pluto lifted the bottle to his lips and took a great swing from it; it was sickeningly sweet but had a pretty good kick to it. He grimaced slightly and clicked his tongue, the bottle had been open a while now and with the slight heat and the fact that he hadn’t eaten all day it wasn’t tasting any better. “Haven’t trained in months… Keep getting into fights. Always drunk,” Pluto began mumbling to himself as he softly swayed on the bench. He felt pathetic honestly, the only time he ever felt good anymore was when he was fighting, and lately he had been going overboard. It hadn’t even been him starting the fights lately, it was like everyone had suddenly become assholes; even more than he was.
The Half-Saiyan sighed to himself once more, the wind felt nice on his face today and he was beginning to calm down a bit. The bottle was almost gone so once he drank it all he could think of his next move, he’d probably go get some breakfast (even though it was lunch time) and find some motel to crash at. He’d been up since the night before, probably going on thirty hours now, and he could feel his body shutting down from all the alcohol and sleep-depravation.
WC: 410