Training & Studying [OPEN]

[chore_boy]

Date & Time: Feb 21st - 24th
Location: Training Hall, Library
Characters: Coby & YOU
Summary: Nothing fancy! This will follow Coby's regular training and studying regiments, something he's going to be repeating indefinitely for the next ... forever.
Warnings: None expected.

Early in the morning, Coby woke up and left his empty apartment, content to rush to work a handful of hours in one of the local delis, putting in as much time as he could without sparing the expense of time he knew was best spent physically active. Working as a butcher didn't seem to help his sense of pride in being a Captain, but pride wasn't something that paid well enough for him to maintain rent, food and clothing. Free food tended to help, too.

He would work from Six to Ten every morning, diligently maintaining his allotment of travel time so he could arrive at the training halls on time to help anyone if at all possible. He spent the first two hours doing light training and doling out advice even if it annoyed someone--it was in his nature to want to be helpful even at the expense of being hit once or twice. When noon approached, he would separate himself and train alone for a number of hours--never exceeding eight of it. He would do simple stance and posture exercises, dead-lifting and a cyclical arena of stretching, punching and kicking until he felt his muscles tense up. Not once during his training would he seek out water or food. Starvation training was all a part of it.

Coby would leave around nine or ten o'clock and posit himself in the library, digging up a number of books he had checked out and sitting with them he began what seemed like the arduous process of logging tiny pieces of information from them in his notebooks. In reality, reaching the library on a daily basis seemed to be an immense reward to him and as he ate small and rationed pieces of fruit and meat with what seemed to be a prisoner's allotment of water, Coby tried his best to study as much as he could before the need to sleep would take him back home. It was his routine as a soldier.

(OOC: Feel free to toss times & dates in here via the subject header! Action or prose is fine.)

Comments

[silenceandcards]

It's shortly after Coby sits down and begins his note-taking. Keith read in his room most of the time, but once or twice a week he would opt to sit in the library and watch the people who used it. It was mostly to learn more about these people without getting up in their business and starting conversation. Part of it was because he was used to people moving around him, and the atmosphere wasn't uncomfortable.

He saw Coby from time to time but this is his first time approaching him. With a large tome already in his hand (something about the history of this world), he also reaches over and grabs a smaller book off the top of Coby's stack to flip it open and glance at it. He sets it back after a few seconds -- a little firmly, making a muffled but audible sound to catch Coby's attention if he hadn't already.

[chore_boy]

"Keith," Coby responded slowly, raising himself up only a little bit from his diligent writing. Though he spent the day training his Observation, Coby's mind had fizzled out by the time it was eight or nine. Keith had been otherwise invisible to his senses and though he realized that it was a bad thing to be blind in a crowd of people, Coby learned to trust a great deal of those around him. He smiled, closing his book on his hand--knowing that it was rude to conduct himself while his attention seemed drawn away.

"Did you need something, sir?" Earnest and eager to help--Coby still looked like he'd been beaten and left for dead earlier in the day in some capacity. In some ways, it was absolutely true.

[silenceandcards]

He shakes his head and takes a seat next to him, taking his closed book as a sign that the Marine didn't mind the company. He sets his own book on the table but doesn't open it as he turns to Coby and shakes his head. He didn't need anything, necessarily, but greeting an acquaintance seemed like a good idea. It didn't escape his attention that Coby looked, well, a mess. There was no need to put it nicely. He looked like the poor guys that got beaten up by Berga.

He raises an eyebrow at Coby as if to ask if he really did get beaten up.

[chore_boy]

It wasn't difficult to tell when someone was evaluating him. A little bit of surprise registered as Keith looked him over and Coby could tell almost implicitly what it was about. Most times, men wouldn't ask him that sort of question, though he supposed it must have been weird for Keith to see on him. A young man sporting bruises that bad usually wore them for all the wrong reasons and given how upbeat Coby looked despite his fatigue, he didn't likely look too much like a regular victim.

"Oh--there's no need to worry, sir," Coby smiled a bit more sheepishly, setting one hand behind his head and bowing for a moment. "I got these while training. I've been meeting better and better opponents, who are a bit out of my league right now."

[silenceandcards]

He nods. It makes sense. He's seen the bruises Berga gets after brawls with Claire, and he's seen the bruises everyone else gets after brawling with Berga. Those two pack quite the mean punch, he knows. Coby's being ambitious, and just the slightest bit reckless with it. No harm there unless the training starts involving weapons, then that's worrying.

He thinks idly to himself that he should train more, too. But it's difficult, training too much, not knowing if it'll be wise too. He can't get too hurt in front of strangers.

"Sleep more."

[chore_boy]

Taking a few moments to actually grasp what Keith told him, Coby seemed to stare at him for a few seconds before actually recognizing it. His match with Saber had brought him into some serious danger, but it wasn't something he thought to be beyond his capacity. Having gone straight back into training seemed to be a sign of his determination--at least he thought so.

"Oh," He replied dumbly, his hands planted on the table. "I--I'm not sure what an adequate amount of time would be."

[silenceandcards]

Is this kid for serious? Not that Keith really was one to talk -- the life of a gangster involved late nights and lots of headaches and even alcohol and definitely not adequate sleep -- but at least he knew what being healthy entitled. Are you for serious, Coby?

He stares at the man for a few seconds before he reaches for a piece of paper that was lying on the table. There's a pen there conveniently, too, and he takes it as well. After scribbling on it for a few seconds he pushes it across the table at Coby. On it, he's written down a few points about healthy sleepy and eating.

It's rather vague, very 1920s, but it's something.

[chore_boy]

Coby began turning redder and redder. When Keith finally pushed the paper his way and his eyes fell on it, Coby was sure he was going to explode from sheer embarrassment. He was being reprimanded. None of this behavior that Keith jotted down for him had been emulated by him. In the midst of his training--

"T-Those are the basics!?"

[silenceandcards]

Basics? Not particularly. Keith had never done any real training before, so he won't pretend to know about that sort of thing. It was just what his father used to say when he was around, and what Kate sometimes said when he came home late from work. Sleep, stay healthy.

He shakes his head at Coby, wondering why he's so embarrassed.

"It's not necessary." But it's pretty important.

[chore_boy]

Coby stopped fretting, frowning inwardly. It had been a good set of days, he figured. He was learning many, many things from other people and a great deal of those things had been adequate proof that he was completely wrong about a great deal of things. Finally crossing his arms and frowning, Coby settled himself.

"Not necessary--but, I've been wrong about a number of things, lately."

[silenceandcards]

He shrugs. Nobody can be completely right about everything. Coby's being open to admitting that is a good thing, but that's also cheesy as hell and he keeps quiet.

Training, though. Keith has tried to train with his gun but he hasn't done anything else, preferring not to train with partners for the most part.

"What sort of training?"

[chore_boy]

"Well--" Coby began, not sure how to answer. Each time he spoke about his regiments, people were often in disbelief or outright didn't believe him. There was no situation in which he was actually swaying opinions with his disposition, no matter how honest he was.

"Module training. I train in segments, hardening my body, quickening it and making it as flexible as possible. 'Rokushiki' revolves around six techniques which make you into a superb combatant. Though... I don't think you'd really believe any of what I could do unless you saw it."

[silenceandcards]

It sounds like a thing Claire might get interested in. That man would try to learn anything he didn't know about before, and he would learn it to master. Keith doesn't doubt that Coby can do it, though. Why would he? It's not as if he'd seen the kid fail at anything before.

He shrugs, then raises an eyebrow at Coby. "There's no reason not to believe." Really, there isn't. If you say you can do it, why not?

[chore_boy]

Coby looked more incredulous than he expected Keith to have looked. He tilted his head, wondering aloud to the older man.

"Why do you?" Leaning his chin against one opened hand, Coby looked skeptical. "If I told you about much of it, I think I'd change your mind. Even to people who I show it to--they think it's a magic trick."

[silenceandcards]

He shakes his head and reaches for one of Coby's books.

"I know a man who could do anything. And men who come back from the dead."

[chore_boy]

Coby couldn't have smiled any stupider than he did when Keith reached for one of his books. The dorky little smile he wore was puppy-like as he very much seemed to want to talk about the topic of the book and see if someone would discuss it with him. Though, his excitement was understandable. Helmeppo never really indulged him when it came to books and he had no other friends. Any chance to talk seemed like it would make his day.

"A-Ah, did you? Did he eat a Devil Fruit?"

[silenceandcards]

"Devil Fruit?" He has no idea what that is. He watches the smile stretch across Coby's face and looks down at the book's cover. He hadn't looked at it to figure out what the subject matter was.

[chore_boy]

"Well, I guess I'm learning that this world isn't one that has Devil Fruits. I supposed that's fortunate," He thought to himself that a world without men who could light the world on fire, shake it to pieces and turn themselves into swords was a good one. Places without men like Whitebeard had to be nice, Coby figured.

"Devil fruits are fruits that, if you eat them--they grant you incredible powers."

[silenceandcards]

"Incredible powers." He mutters this, opening the book and glancing down on it. He doesn't read the words as much as he observes the paper of the pages. Very crisp, not difficult to cut your fingers on if you got careless.

"You got other fruits like that?"

[chore_boy]

At that, Coby reached into his side pack for a protein bar--pausing before drawing up a second one and holding it out for Keith.

"Actually, there are countless Devil Fruits. Supposedly, only one person can have one ability in their lifetime and only one living person can have that ability until they die--then, that ability will become a fruit once more. They're very diverse things, though. I could name a few abilities for you, though that would hardly describe their variation."

[silenceandcards]

He listens quietly, taking the bar into his hand and looking at it while Coby spoke. Fruits that can give people a certain power, but (supposedly) only one person could have that power until their death. He wonders if that wouldn't cause a lot of ambitious people coming after their life.

It probably does.

He nods, to show that he comprehended it.

[chore_boy]

"In that vein, Devil Fruit users have become serious criminals. In many instances, I'd say that in law enforcement, you encounter reasonable criminals and unreasonable ones, but..."

Gesturing widely, Coby looked a little bothered--not immensely, more so on the annoyed side of the spectrum. He had fought with plenty of Devil Fruit users before. Ones whose powers still surprised him to that day, "When one gets powers like that, it goes straight to their heads in most cases. They think they're absolutely above reproach and justice. I can't stand people like that."

[silenceandcards]

"..."

Power did that to people. Keith thought about the man that smuggled money from the Family; he was dead now, perhaps turning into fish bait by now. Then he thinks about the bastard that came in and shot some of his his men because Luck and Berga picked him out of their office. He was an annoying small fry, and a coward who only came back because he had a body that wouldn't die. He was at the bottom of the Hudson now.

"There are always men like that."

[chore_boy]

"Naturally so," With that, Coby slipped another book from the pile, leafing through it briefly. "But, I don't see any powers like that spoken about in your history books. It makes me wonder if there's anything like that in your world or..."

He frowned inwardly, saying it only because he started. He didn't want to believe in it.

"If your world is nicer in that regard."

[silenceandcards]

"We don't need special powers for the world to get nasty."

That being said, Keith finally puts down the book he took from Coby's pile and clears a part of the desk directly between them, placing one of his hands down there.

... Really, it's no big deal is it? He and his brothers and the Martillo Family didn't go around showing off what their bodies could do, but that was because if enemies knew and they got careless, the fear factor of the dead coming back to life would fade, and it could get used against them. They could still feel pain, after all. But Coby was a Marine. He was not a gangster and he was not an enemy from New York. Hell they probably didn't even exist in the same time-space. It didn't matter. Silently, Keith fishes into his jacket's inside pocket for a knife he keeps on hand.

"Most guys don't know about it, that's all."