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RP: Elysia [Elysia Novus] Barracks - Day 3

Zakalwe

Zakalwe

Inactive Member
And again the day dawned, and again the alarm rang at 6:45 - ushering the cadets from their slumber. To further enforce this awakening Nerael voice rang out among them, "Out! Time for morning exercises."

In the courtyard Nerael was jogging on the spot - waiting for the cadets to get out of their beds and into the new day. Of course if they weren't out soon he'd have to resort to dragging them out and giving them low altitude parachuting lessons without certain vital bits of equipment.
 
He slept peacefully as ever and then slept through wake up call. With one hand sheilding his eyes from lights he didn't bother to realize he was late till it was nearly 7:05 AM He pulled himself out of bed and then sleepily got dressed. He knew he was late just by the fact that the barracks was empty. he stole out into the court yard and sillent slipped into his place among the streching and exercising cadets, hoping that Nerael hadn't noticed.
 
Unfortunately Nerael did notice - and fully intended to carry out his threat. From a pull up position he forward flipped to standing and strode towards Evenael, his voice raising into a near shout, "Stop exercise everyone - we have someone who does not believe that he needs to join us. You! Cadet Evenael!" Nerael drew himself up to his full height (although notably did not extend his wings) and stared directly into Evenael's eyes, "You are late, and as such you have brought down on yourself a suitable punishment."
 
Evanel froze when he heard Nerael talking. Yes, he noticed and that wasn't going to be good for him. Evanel bit the inside of his cheek as he watched Nerael stride over to him. He stared right back into Nerael's eyes, unwilling to let the man make him flinch or give an inch of ground. he cracked a slight smile and then said "Than I shall accept said punishment with eagerness and enthusiasm."
 
"Don't be an idiot. Follow me." Nerael turned and walked to the medical building, calling over his shoulder "Free style exercise untill I get back." What exactly he meant by that not even he knew. However it would be interesting to see how they interpreted it.

Once in the building Nerael caught the attention (and the arm) of the chief medic, "This cadet requires his Soul to be saved. Now."

The medic simply nodded and turned to Evenael, "If you will come this way." He led him to a almost vertical bed, and it was indicated that he should lie down.
 
Evanel followed after Nerael silently, not knowing what was going to happen to him. When he was brought to the medic building he was almost surprised he was being led there, but said not a word nor showed any outright emotion. He caught what Nerael said to the cheif medic and was immediately set on edge. He followed the man over to the bed and then reluctantly laid down. He clenched hia jaw, not quite knowing what was happening, but he staid still and waited.
 
The medic pressed a few buttons beside the bed, there was a quick hum and Evenael felt a quick sharp pain throughout his head as the machines involved took a record of his memory, personality and in fact everything that made Evenael Evenael and saved it. Thankfully the pain lasted only a few seconds and left no residue - Evenael was quickly ushered from the bed and back to Nerael who looked at him coldly before turning silently and walking back to the yard.

Once at the yard Nerael took a strange disk like object two metres in diameter and pulled it out into the centre of the yard, "Everyone start doing press ups: twenty at a time with a thirty second rest between groups. Cadet Evenael - stand on this disk."
 
Evanael winced at the sharp pain, but that was all that he did. When ushered to get up he did and ignored Nerael's cold look. Rubbing the side of his skull with a hand he followed after Nerael out into the court-yard again. When Nerael had the disk he knew something bad was going to happen. Reluctantly he stepped up onto the disk as told, his wings pulled in tight against his side, obviously scared of what was going to happen next.
 
"Disk, elevation one hundred metres." Nerael commanded the disk - and immediately it began to slow ascend up into the air, taking Evanael along with it, until it did indeed reach an elevation of one hundred metres. Nerael called up to Evanael, "Feeling comfortable cadet? Good. Now jump."

A simple exercise. Would he survive? Relatively insignificant - although it did theoretically have some importance in learning how to fall etc, primarily this was a favoured punishment used by Nerael. He really disliked lethargics.
 
Evanael swollowed hard as the disk went up. When it finally reached 100 Meters he looked about, quite nervous, but at the same time rather happy for a challenge. Sure he'd proabaly end up with a few broken bones and several bruises and stuff like that, but it would be all for the better... he guessed. Looking around he took his time to be decisive and in stead of just straight of jumping, a bright and rather stupid idea came to his mind. He'd try to fly his way out of this. Stuck on the idea that if the birds could fly so could he and this was a perfect time to try.

He turned and backed up nearly to the edge and then took a breif few strides and leapt off the end shooting for an open patch of ground. His wings snapped open and he flapped his wings furiously, futile of course, and tried to slow himself down. Dispite everything his wings were a bit of help. Instead of hitting the ground at a good 150+ MPH he managed to get it down to about 150 MPH before he just pulled his wings in tight and let himself fall. He hit the ground curled up into a tight ball and bounced once, loosing his breath and then twice, finally going all jelly bodied as he blacked out and then a third time and then slid five feet over the ground before comming to rest.

Of course he didn't move his body allready racing to recover from the shock of said landing. Several of the bones in his wings were broken, amking them even more useless than before. His back was going to turn into a massive black bruise and several of his ribs were cracked and one of them even broken in two. The wound ont he back of his head fromt he other days had reopened and was bleeding, staining his hair dark red. Amongst everything else, he'd broken both bones in his right arm and was covered in enough scrapes and sratches to look like he'd been through a war zone.
 
Nerael walked over to Evanael, pulled him onto his back and carried him to the medical building - in the mean time the cadets (or at least those that wished to escape punishment) continued with their exercises. In the medical building Evanael was put inside a pod which seemed to be made of some variety of glass which quickly filled up with a thick liquid. Evanael did not have the urge, or need, to breathe as the liquid began to quickly repair his body.
 
Evanel healed well enough. When he gained consiouness half way through the process he rolled over on his side and curled up in a ball. He staid that way long after his body was done being repaired. He told himself that the next sharp knife he saw and he'd take his wings off himself. if he couldn't use them, why have them. This little punishment had dome way more to him than anything else ever had before.
 
The pod emptied slowly and Evanael was soon exposed to the air - and Nerael. Nerael took hold of part of his soaken garments and hoisted him out of the pod, "Come on cadet, back to the platform." His voice was not as cold now - simply perfuctionary. He led Evanael slowly back to the court and jestured to the platform, "Cadets! Jog around the court!"
 
Evanael couldn't help but whine softly as he was pulled forcefully out of the pod. Outside he was wet and cold and miserable. When they got back to the court he bit his lower lip to keep himself from whining again. Whatever was next he was sure was going to hurt, but he knew what he was going to have to do soon. Better to go join some rouge band of pirates than suffer through 100 meter, parachuteless drops.
 
"You didn't do badly cadet. 10 metres." Nerael wasn't that cruel, at least not this early in the morning. He turned and flipped onto his arms as he began to run in hand-stand form. It was something he was working on - as soon as he could do it at close to running speed he'd be happy, but he wasn't even nearly there yet. The platform raised to ten metres, and held there motionless.
 
He eyed the ground and then mumbled soemthing to himself. He stepped off the edge and fell a good thirty feet. He managed to land on his feet, bending his knees so he didn't break his legs, his wings splayed outwards to let him keep his balance better. He managed to keep from falling over and got to his feet. Looking around he looked for the closest pointy object.
 
Nerael stopped running and flipped the 'right' way up, walking over to Evenael and speaking to him quietly, "Kid, I saw what you did. You want to fly, and I understand that. But we're not made for that. There's nothing wrong with our bodies - but it is not for Plebeians to fly, that is for the Patricians." Nerael sighed, "Talk to me at the end of the day, and we'll see what we can do for you. For now get back to exercises."

He turned his attention to the group, "Alright cadets, twenty minutes of co-ordinated exercises." He dropped to the floor and began to do pressups at an unusually high speed - expecting everyone to keep up with him.
 
Evanael growled lightly and then walked off, his feathers puffed up. He took his place and dispite the burning pains in his feet and legs he set to the Press-ups going as fast as his arms would let him. His mind dulled by the soreness and pain echoing up from his nerves made him follow Nerael's every command like a puppy dog, almost ready to just lay down and die. He sensed a round of Nepleslian depression comming on.
 
Thankfully Schuyler had rolled out of bed at the right time, and cringed when he saw the other recruit hit the deck.

He kept doing his exercises, with increased fervor, for what may happen to him if he screwed up.

He figured doing these exercises was cake walk as compared to what the recruit was faced with.
 
Exercises finished, they weren't particularly interesting but Nerael seemed to have his attention on something else. He even had one finger push ups instead of his regular vertical press-ups. However the hour finished and he quickly sent them to the showers and the mess before going to collect their next teacher.

The meal today tasted of a variety of white chocolate - without the dehydrating side effects.
 
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