enjoy your rabbit [training]

[ALBEIR REINHART]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: url('http://i.imgur.com/ajvTt.jpg'); width: 425px;][style=background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 5px; font-size: 12px; color: #cacaca; padding-left: 10px;]but no one else ever can see[/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 7px;][/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 10px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #cacaca; text-align: justify; width: 97px; margin-top: 125px; margin-right: -115px;]tagged;; albeir words;; -- notes;; training credits;; template by jetplane of btn[/style] [style=font-family: tahoma; color: #333333; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; margin-right: 110px;] The world had now recognized the absence of a young noble turned pirate. He himself stood forward with blades in hand, both parrying knife and rapier. The first in his right the latter in his dominant hand. Albeir seemed hard at work now as he decided to live up to his old fencing title, knowing he had a bit of what one would call grace and spring to his step. His garments were rather done up, though they were expected of the young lad, he had never really done much by not wearing what were known to be the standard clothes of nobility though they weren't as high end as one would assume. It was his odd idea of living on the edge which led him to this, he figure he'd make more adversaries if he dressed well enough. Pirates tended to target nobles though he was not likely to be one who would let himself be out done. Slowly raising his stance he held left to his side and the right hand in front with parrying knife in hand. Thus he began with a quick thrust of the knife and flowing it with a twirl as if to disarm or knock the opponent off balance, then a quick upward slash following a downward into a thrust from his rapier. He re-assumed a defensive stance and would seem to practice the thrust once more, he had decided it was wiser to engage in thrust attacks. The blades were durable and thin, aside from most regular pirates using katana or sabers he went with a less conventional method which seemed to a carry a bit of finesse and acquire what he thought would be a little more mastery. He wante dto see how pin point his stabs were, and if at all they were accurate, though form, form was the most important of them all. Without form you had no balance you needed technique, though one that could not be read, like a dance, and most pirates were not well versed in the art of dancing. Granted he was no entertainer himself, though a noble he was and many requisites came into play. Of course though his form also relied on strong arms and thrust was one of the most important, as if he was not to do multiple thrust, well that would be out of the question, because today was his wish to develop his multiple thrust techniques. With one blade. With both rapier and parrying knife in hand he relieved himself of his stance and decided to make his way to a tree in which he had created a target, a cut out of what would be the human body, a training exercise of his accuracy in multiple thrust attacks. It would prove in itself to be very interesting. [/style]

[ALBEIR REINHART]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: url('http://i.imgur.com/ajvTt.jpg'); width: 425px;][style=background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 5px; font-size: 12px; color: #cacaca; padding-left: 10px;]but no one else ever can see[/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 7px;][/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 10px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #cacaca; text-align: justify; width: 97px; margin-top: 125px; margin-right: -115px;]tagged;; albeir words;; -- notes;; training credits;; template by jetplane of btn[/style] [style=font-family: tahoma; color: #333333; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; margin-right: 110px;] There was now another air to the training, a dance to it, as he was known to be the blade dancer. Albeir placed his blades down for a moment, in which he would remove shirt shirt and jacket. Revealing his tone physique he had now placed for the moment weights on his wrists, his legs, and a weighted vestment on his boy. All of which being rather light, the ones on his wrist and legs ten pounds, and the body vestment an extra fifteen. Though adding to his own body wait it would seem clear to him this would allow him to build a tone form and aid him in his swordsman ship by allowing him to lessen the stress that the blades carry on him and carry them easier, in time allowing them to feel lighter. This method was rather, old, but developed well and even though he was vulnerable to attack, he felt he was well secluded enough to perform such tasks and train. In this he began to do a dance known to some as the tango. Yes the tango, now for some reason it allowed for him a sense of foot work and balance, and though it was sword fighting, it involved a little more than what most people understood. Foot work entitled a well crafted sense of balance which allowed him to stay on guard even if he were to be caught off guard. If that made sense in anyway. Though he began to embrace his movements. Quickly stepping forward, making sure his feet were in count, he decided to do a complicated musical count. Three, four. "One, two, Three. One, Two, Three, Four." These counts kept the enemy off balance, fighting was similar to a dance, in order to use the blade well or make the correct shot, you had to lead the target. Lead the partner in which you dance with, and to do so, you had to know how. He was soon now making the counts and deciding at which moments were appropriate to use his weapon, and soon he would so. Though not before toning exercises of course. [/style]

[ALBEIR REINHART]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: url('http://i.imgur.com/ajvTt.jpg'); width: 425px;][style=background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 5px; font-size: 12px; color: #cacaca; padding-left: 10px;]but no one else ever can see[/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 7px;][/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 10px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #cacaca; text-align: justify; width: 97px; margin-top: 125px; margin-right: -115px;]tagged;; albeir words;; -- notes;; training credits;; template by jetplane of btn[/style] [style=font-family: tahoma; color: #333333; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; margin-right: 110px;] Laying himself down on the ground now he decided to do the next set of toning exercises, a fit form means a fit body of course. It was the fact that he did sit-ups now they kept his form tight and also quite nimble, he could with stand the stress of the blade dancing which carried onto his very own abdomen. One after another in quick succession he was attempting to make his way to a solid two hundred with the weights on his body and follow up them with a grouping of push ups as well, as all these areas involved the thrust and form of which he would move the blade. The sweat ran down his form and though he felt the stress in his abs it was so much so a good thing compared to most of the other work outs. It meant the muscles themselves were getting tighter and much stronger, allowing themselves to withstand more stress than before. He did enjoy the work out though, he was now reaching it's end and it would seem appropriate to move on to the next part of the work out. Now he would roll over and rest for a moment in time. His hair ran down his face as did the sweat. Now placing his arms he decided to begin doing push-ups. Fifty of them seemed to be the appropriate number and deciding that his pectorals did need a work out he moved quick. The weights added stress though, not to mention the stress already added from the ab work out it seemed that he would need to stop and take a breather sometime soon. He pressed on though, they weren't going to get easier anyways, so he had to get going and finish them or continue til he couldn't. Pushing himself up from the final one he took a breath, quickly removing the weighted vest from his body. It flopped on to the floor, drenched in his sweat now he smirked a bit and was amused by the state it was in. It was now time for a breather and some water. Walking to his garments with the weights all removed he had taken a sip of water, more like a gulp. He took a breath, there was a couple more things he probably needed to do, a run with the ankle weights seemed wise, though was it really necessary? [/style]

[ALBEIR REINHART]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: url('http://i.imgur.com/ajvTt.jpg'); width: 425px;][style=background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 5px; font-size: 12px; color: #cacaca; padding-left: 10px;]but no one else ever can see[/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 7px;][/style][style=float: right; background-color: #494949; opacity: 0.8; padding: 10px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #cacaca; text-align: justify; width: 97px; margin-top: 125px; margin-right: -115px;]tagged;; albeir words;; -- notes;; training credits;; template by jetplane of btn[/style] [style=font-family: tahoma; color: #333333; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; margin-right: 110px;] Still drinking the water, he stared at his ankle weights curiously. To use them or not seemed to be the question, he for sure thought they be useful, though it would be much better to go on a refreshing jog this time around. He decided upon the absence of his ankle weights, in doing a few leg stretches, more importantly the one known as butterflies. Sitting indian style he stretched his groin in order to make sure of no further strain on him when he was to run this grueling but not so grueling run. He quickly stood up and brushed his hair back as he decided to do a lap around this secluded area of the beach. Placing all but his shirt and jacket on with his swords at his sides, he stood up now and had begun to briskly make his way as his feet caressed the sand now. His runs movements were slow at first though every so often he decided to pick them up. It was a good pace for him now, not really thinking about the movement at all, then again you really didn't have to think about running. Returning his pace to a brisk jog again he took long strides, stretching his legs as far as they go and feeling the press from them. It was actually rather relieving as compared to the rest and what would be the remainder of the work out. Though he continued to move thinking about nothing for the most part, and also what he was to practice. He dreaded the idea of having to put the weights back on his wrist for the sword training, though he was going to have to practice his accuracy once more before all of that. There was not much to worry of though, he enjoyed jogs. The island seemed calm enough, though it was a training ground and meeting ground for those who had wish to test their might against one another. He was impartial to fights though he would never decline a challenge, he was just hoping that there was no way in which he could be interrupter. That would well, leave him awful sore, figuratively and literally. He was now reaching the end of his lap, and decided to stop by his objects once more, the run was a good break, and now the remainder of the training began. [/style]