"Butt Cramps," Part 1...
based on Balard's Quit Message: (Quit: <Abby`> "Butt cramps makes good RP")
On a hot summer's eve, when it had been warm enough to sleep where you stood, comfortable and lazy, the strongest and mightiest were at their most irritable. Practicing routinely to keep above the rest of those wannabe-sport squirts, the bar is ever set higher for a stressed out Abby, pacing back and forth from the field of combat to the political arena. Either she is found fully decked in armor or behind a stand on the podium to announce her plans as Reeve. Doing stuff like, skull-bashing the idiots who cannot fathom how to count votes or striking a deal of blows with the numb-skulls that take pain like a daily vitamin. Enduring the hammering from weight of the promises to her supporters or wincing in anger and agony at the crack of her cap from the blow of a sledge. It was, is, and shall be for the first few days a strain in both mind and body. To learn what it means to be a Reeve and the duties that must be performed on top of the quest to rise those she mentors above the masses and flourish in the spotlight in the gladiatorial arena. The question is, how much of a pain in the ass was this year going to be?
On one eventful day, oh boy, here it comes, the worst stick in the butt she will ever have to tolerate...
"... But what does a Reeve do?" This, the newly elected Reeve, Abby has asked for the tenth time from a select number of Official Proprietors of Nanthalion.
A dark skinned moriel who chooses not to be named speaks Ominously and Purposefully to the Mercenary Leader, "The Reeve is an elected official serving the Nanthalion Citizens. They are the go-between person for the commoners and the nobles. They are essentially, the Mayor of the region. Their job is depicted as being one as a public servant and organizers to ensu-" Remember how nice, warm, relaxing this season is? The redhead nods her head and snaps upright before those fluttering lids shutters the waking light in her eyes. "-or worse. Professionalism in all capacities is expected of the Reeve in all matters. They are required to work with Temples, Imperial Guard, Shop Managers and Bazaar Marketplace to see to promotional events and things required by Nanthalion’s business leaders. A Reeve also ensures the morale and public opin-" The handsome lady, listening to this general ramble, gave a not so pretty snort and sighed while concluding in thought, '... But what do I do?'
Sometime later...
Sitting on her rump, with a forehead braced in the palm of her hand in the event she needs to run it down her face in frustration, she observes the past documentations that had been saved over the past Reeve's in office. Shuffling the papers about in disorder, as none appeared to have any relevance to what she sought, it took time to gather that none of the other Reeves personally did anything more than handle disputes between the nobility and the people that support her office. A lofty box with crumpled wax sheets spilling out had toppled to the floor. Inside, a glance of those emeralds held the 'Gift' from one such fan. When she first laid those green eyes upon the bunched threads of steel-mail, she had assumed to be a coif, but pulling the small assortment out, it turned out to be a pair, not hoods, but in fact swimwear. A Chainmail Bikini. Well, at least she had a paper weight for her stack of work-logs.
"Other than a few battles and a statue... Heh," there is a smirk, wary and worrisome trembling in the curt laugh, "I'm going to rock their world, aren't I?" With that hinted statement of her ambition, a pen bleeds a scrawl of scribbling lines of the plans she has to set into motion, the work that will be done in the coming time enormous, and enough to set her as an exemplary note in history whether this pulls through or flops.
Aside from being a pencil pushing desk jockey, later that day is when the action really starts to heat up. It takes her a bit to wiggle her gracefully built figure into that block of iron frame, but when ready, she comes storming out into the field, all takers on, and beware the vent of her ink-stained mitts... Just one person stands at attention. A slight girl with black locks of hair smoothed back from a marshmallow complexion face full of mirth at the sight of her mentor. Holding onto a sword, short and light with mithril, ready for the day's sparring practice, and prepared to learn the lessons harshly if she has to from the red tank tutor.
Being flung from one extreme to the other like a ping-pong ball caused her to be strung out to the point her muscles creaked louder than her worn plates. 'When did I last sleep in a bed?' she wondered. A pinch between her eyes to massage the sinuses cuts off the vision of her pupil for a short second or two. Taking in a deep breath, "You will follow my example and perform this every day before we spar. Is that understood?"
A little Casper-girl nods an acknowledged and accepting head.
Abby begins her warm-ups, showing off what it took to prepare the body and mind to ease in the day's routine and faux duel. Limber in the arms and shoulders, rolling and turning with a sway of her hips, and plopping down to stretch for those toes...
-Crrkkhh!-
"..." 'That didn't sound too good,' the wide eyed Abby slow and gradually pulls up and away from her feet. A cricking noise had been felt more than heard from the lower half of her right buttocks. Letting out an audible, "Ha~," before bracing herself to stand upright. The score sent a tragic ripple of spasms up and around her jiggly butt cheek. Flaring her nostrils, straight faced, staring at the stark white girl, and nodding her acceptaince, "Alright, let's do this!"
Lozen, the Bratty Halfbat, having already mirrored her instructor's stretches, stood ready for combat. The combatants met, with Abby using only the finger of her gauntlets to poke down the cuts and swipes of the wingless chirot. It did take a minute or two for the both of them to settle. At once, both of them look almost like sisters, both having the pale complexion of an albino. Abby stands stock still until her student leaves for the day. Then... She limps, holding her behind, and calling for a healer to get their ass in here before she is expected to deliver some kind of speech like a stuffed hand puppet.
Part 2 coming soon...