Working Out

Working Out

Laython was Running. Each leg a 15 pound weight increasing Strength and Stamina. He thinks on the Events of recent Days he shown Restraint we wanted Blood for Krom. It had been two years since his Sire Death. Since the Raid since he had been forced to leave his Sire behind as he covers his Escape for a Group of others the Information they had had was more important it needed to reach Dallas. His Sire had made that Possible. At a price. When they had returned days latter the Sabbat had cleared out. Remembering he begins to push him self faster exhausting his Muscles on the run strengthening him self with blood. He came to a stop. C lapsing on the ground. Starring up at the Stars. thinking now the next few days would take A lot. He knew they would be headed to London Again tonight probably to clean up that mess they found.

He had come here because he had heard the Group that Killed Krom might be here were these them. Probably not But maybe they knew who and were it had been two years and in that time he fought Daemons and werewolves Blobs even. Been a Primegion for a short time and Tortured by his in action.

He was on the right path now at lest he thought he was. Soon he would have Sabbat blood. He closed his Eyes thinking though all these things. Next stop would be the abandoned wear house he had found early on coming here. He takes off the weights and heads back for the Bike putting them up he then heads off stopping at home and grabbing his Go bag just in case. Then off to the Warehouse.

Once their he goes inside giving threatening looks to the vagrants living within. He says one word “out” he had taught a lesson once and it was remembered. When clear he dropped his Coat down and Drew his Sword. Starting his Slow work. Fighting his sire had said was perpetration thinking in combat would get one killed. But if you do not know what to do will get you killed just as fast that was solved however by muscle memory. So slow work taking his time with the motions of strikes and parry stances needed in Saber combat. Working though the foot work. Taking his time Slow work can be taxing on the Muscles but he pushed on he was after all Dead.

After he was done their he went back out to his bike ready for the nights next stop. His Phone Chirped. He checked it one word Tomorrow. He dropped it back into his coat pocket and put the coat back on mounting the Bike he was off into the night time to find a meal get his Buzz and rest for tomorrow who knew what tomorrow held.
Joy Ride

The cars moved in slow motion. Trucks, on the highway and one the back roads, Houses seemed like they were standing still in time people who were out barley moving. The Harley engine was working over time and pushing 115 miles per-hour. The realty was he was the one moving fast. He him self was unnaturally fast but it did not matter how fast you were in less you were able to reacted to it think at that speed, He had no way to train this really well ideas but only just that Idea's.

He had swung a weapon four times in two seconds before. He out run a bomb with 8 seconds left on a timer and not a small bomb either. He Done amazing feats of speed. It was in his blood taking control of will over the F leash the pile of skin and muscle that was his form.

He pulled around weaving in and out of traffic and weaving though street poles and obstacle he sees as he goes. His reflexes were lighting fast and he was now pushing the Chopper to the edge of it capability.

He was coming back up on the city he slowed to a normal speed it seemed so very very slow. The contrast was serial his mind socked in the contrast the difference between 115 and 65. He was coming off the freeway now and onto the main street.

It was not long to he was home. Into the house he went. His legs now like jello. What a Ride What a night.